#for general band wrangling purposes but also

[izzy-b-hands]

So. I've written a slightly crack fic dethklok x our flag crossover one shot (Dethklok in the Our Flag universe in this case)

I can't decide if I should publish this one, if I do it just on here, or here and ao3 lol

[dollsahoy]

When I sew button-up shirts, I like to press as many edges as possible before I start sewing any pieces together. It's easier for me to work this way, because it means I don't have to wrangle an ever-growing project around on the ironing board and sleeve board.

These are all the hems--front, back, and short sleeves--pressed before assembly. (I did sew darts first.)

I use a Dritz Ezy Hem (link to manufacturer's website, I am not compensated--I've had my Ezy Hem since before the very idea of people being compensated by companies in exchange for mentioning their products online) to press up the edges 5/8", then I fold the raw edges to the inside and press again.

When it's time to sew the seams that bring these pressed edges together, I unroll the pressed part and sew all the way to the raw edges

Then I trim away some of the seam allowance corner, using the pressed lines to know how high to cut. The purpose of trimming the corner is to reduce bulk in the folded hem.

Then I...well, then I serge the seam allowance, but I know not everyone does that, for various reasons. Then I fold the seam allowance toward the back and roll the pressed area back up. It doesn't always align perfectly, but it's close enough to flatten with my fingers. (If you're not serging, or are finishing the seams separately, they would be opened up before rolling.)

Now it's ready to be stitched immediately, no need to get up and go press things.

I stitch from the inside, so I know I'm actually sewing through the pressed edges--I understand this means that the stitching may not be perfectly evenly spaced from the edge on the outside, but it's close enough, and no-one's going to be scrutinizing my clothes to notice. They better not be.

I also press the front bands and one side of the collar band before assembly

I attach them, when it's time, to the shirt on the inside. Then I flip them around to the outside, encasing the seam allowances, and carefully edge stitching the pressed edge down. It's not the "hand-stitch on the inside so there is no visible stitching on the outside" approach the patterns generally want. But. I've sewn nine of this particular shirt, plus six of another button-up shirt pattern, since last summer, so it works for me.

I remember a time in the past when I was baffled by how to sew a button up shirt with front bands and two-part collars. Figuring out how to approach things in a way that makes sense to my brain--regardless of what the pattern says--helped a lot. (As did getting a vintage buttonholer attachment, but that's a different ramble.)

[adhdo5]

1, 2, 3, 6 for both of them?

1. if one of their friends was jumping on a bed and asked your character to join them, would they?

Both of them hard yes. Aktare Loves situations and would love to show off the new backflip meta she's invented. Rosencrantz hard "why not". He would probably eat shit immediately but he'd be fine so

2. would your character carry around a tiny bath and body works hand sanitizer? if yes, would it have a specific scent?

Rosencrantz would adore hand sanitizer for anything but he'd carry around a normal sized bottle I think and it would be unscented because he unironically likes it. His incense smells like licorice and disinfectant canonically so if you gave him actual hand sanitizer he would appreciate it. They put alcohol in a gel huh? That's crazy

Aktare however is definitely the target market for this but xe hates how hand sanitizer makes xer hands feel so while she would enthusiastically steal hand sanitizers with funny scents by the handful she wouldn't end up carrying any around

3. does your character paint their nails? do they wait for them to dry fully afterwards?

Aktare does when she gets xer hands on the material to! Xer nails grow quickly so when she's staying somewhere with access to nail polish xe can do it a lot. She is awful at waiting for them to dry though

Rosen doesn't do it on his own steam but Aktare wanted to prove xer skills so she painted his nails abt it because if anyone can sit there not using its hands for 5 hours it's Rosencrantz. It was a good day

6. what parts of your character’s voice/manner of speaking are distinct, if any?

Aktare I've actually not played at a table in a long while, and her voice I'm still kind of wrangling, but where I'm at with xer, I think the most notable thing is the range. In one man band fashion xer vocal range is quite wide (I think lower than mine– she can get down to at least a countertenor and up to a nice mezzosoprano), and while xer speaking vc is very bright and brassy, her singing or storytelling voice is much darker and fuller – it's very much a fundamentally different register like she's just making the sound differently bc xe learned that as a particular tradition. She gestures in a way that Looks very flamboyant and expressive but is also generally intentional/presentational (one of the big Gestures is lashing her tail against the floor or smth else, to get attention or punctuate a point); most of xer gestures are On Purpose as opposed to smth that just happens. She still does them when more relaxed (she finds it fun and it's not like unnatural just intentional + it helps xer get her point across) but also rocks/sways back and forth more and tenses/untenses up (actual stims). She also speaks w/ a cadence with Specific Emphases, so you can Follow her better, like a PSA with keywords bolded; this is both smth she uses/learned for storytelling and song and smth xe just uses in conversation.

Rosencrantz was always more emotionally subdued + had some degree of blunted affect, which became more pronounced after he died; it's mixed in with a dose of emotional blunting and of intentional apathy/detachment but even most of what breaks thru those gets blunted to varying degrees – this is most evident in body language (he's generally very still, gesturing very little and fidgeting not at all; all of his movements Look intentional and heavy/stiff. One of the only gestures he does for emphasis is Looking Over At You; again it's got a noticeable weight and clunk to it, almost rolling eyes or head over at you. Otherwise he tends to stare off into space, his drink, the floor, the opposite wall, etc) but also in tone. On the whole it just gives like he doesn't want to move unless he has a reason to, and he processes this as mostly "not caring enough" to vary his tone/pitch of speech, but were he to try to do so, he'd struggle with it

His speech cadence is also monotone w/ him not really pausing In sentences (at commas etc); this would make him hard to listen to/droning, but his sentences tend to be pretty short/to the point. Introduction script of "I'm Rosencrantz. I'm a cleric." is so iconic to him in particular I'd b remiss not to mention it; in general though he tends to drop words, especially subjects, except for emphasis

[seoadmin]

REASONS FOR A FENCE

Why do we build fences? To hold something in or to keep something out? For aesthetic purposes or utilitarian? To block unsavory sights or to prevent neighbors from spying? Maybe – just maybe – we build fences for all of these reasons and more. The fact is, there are dozens of reasons for a fence to exist: safety, security, privacy, decoration . . . As you begin planning your new fence, consider the reasons for a fence and decide which features are most important to you. What do you hope to accomplish by building a fence?

SAFETY 

One of the most popular reasons for a fence is to protect people and animals. If you have children, dogs, cats, or even horses, a fence can keep them wrangled up in your yard, so that they don’t run off, injure themselves, or get lost. You might also be concerned with elements outside of your yard, like lakes, ponds, cliffs, or hills. By installing a fence, you ensure that no one within your yard will accidentally fall into a body of water, fall off a cliff, or climb a dangerous bluff.

SECURITY

A fence will also prevent strangers from easily entering your property. Whether you’re imagining criminals trespassing on your land, teenagers unknowingly traipsing through your garden, or deer sauntering through and munching on your apple trees, a fence is a great way to ward off uninvited guests.

ESTABLISH BOUNDARIES 

Going right along with security, a fence is also a great way to establish the boundaries of your property. Sometimes people trespass on land accidentally, not realizing that they’re upsetting the owner. Other homeowners might be frustrated that their neighbors aren’t respecting the line that separates their properties. In situations like this, a fence will create a clear, hard-and-fast boundary.

PRIVACY

Many homeowners think of their outdoor space as an extension of their indoor space. They want to achieve a high level of privacy in their yard or pool, so that they can relax and feel free to be themselves. If you’re worried about neighbors eavesdropping or spying on you, a privacy fence might be the perfect solution. For additional privacy, plant trees near your fence.

CURB APPEAL

Although most fences are built for a utilitarian reason, once a homeowner decides to build a fence, the aesthetic appeal of the project should become a primary concern. Just because a fence has an important job to do, that doesn’t mean it can’t be regal and gorgeous.

More info about Fence installation.

In addition, some homeowners choose to erect a fence primarily for its curb appeal. If you’ve always dreamt of having a white picket fence, a large fence draped with vines, or a stylish ornamental fence, why not make that dream a reality? Not every fence acts as a shield or barrier; some simply look lovely.

TRESPASSING WEEDS

Is your neighbor’s yard filled with weeds and other unwelcome plant life? Is the vegetation attempting to trespass onto your lawn? Instead of allowing the weeds to grow unchecked, stop them by adding a fence. Although this won’t work for all weeds, some will stop in their tracks if you impede their progress with a defensive fence. You will need to choose a fence without many gaps that reaches to the ground, such as a vinyl privacy fence.

CONCEALMENT OF UNATTRACTIVE NOISES

Finally, our last two reasons for a fence revolve around concealment. If you live on a noisy street or your neighbors throw a lot of parties, a privacy fence can buffer the noise somewhat. If this is your primary concern, look into noise-buffering fences like foam-filled aluminum. Noise-concealing fences can also benefit people who live near schools (good morning, marching band!), concert venues, restaurants, and generally lively streets.

https://fencescottsdaleaz.com/

[brandyllyn]

To sell your love for peace (01)

Javier Peña x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Summary: You weren’t his type but he was willing to make an exception.  Words: 2500

Other Chapters My Masterlist 

Rated: Hella Explicit.

Warnings: language. fingering. PiV. prostitution. Javier is a normal amount of asshole.

You were pretty. That was the first thing Javier noticed after you threw open your apartment door. Not the brittle beauty of the girls that he usually preferred, but a basic almost wholesome kind of pretty that he knew a lot of men paid good money for. Javier stepped inside, carefully scanning the street behind him and then guiding you back into your apartment with one hand on the base of your spine. He closed the door behind him, being sure to lock it.

You introduced yourself and he nodded. "Javi," he offered, holding a hand out and taking note of the calluses on your fingertips when you took it. He scanned the small living room, taking in the quilt hung on the wall and the small painting of flowers near the kitchen.

"Can I get you a drink?" You asked, hands nervously running down your thighs. He nodded and you disappeared into the kitchen, the skirt of your dress skimming across your thighs. He took in your assets almost dispassionately. You had a cute, girl-next-door vibe. Someone a man could pretend to be in love with for the night.

You probably had more work than you knew what to do with.

The whiskey bottle you held up was exactly what he was hoping for and he nodded at your questioning look. You met him in the living room with two glasses, walking around the threadbare couch and settling onto one end. He sank into the other, shrugging his jacket off.

"Vanessa says you know each other-"

"From work," you finished for him, glancing at him from the corner of your eye before looking away. He was used to this. A lot of men were harsh with the girls, and as a result there could be a hesitancy in women in your profession around unknown strangers. It was important that he made himself as non-threatening as possible.

"From work," he echoed, taking a drink from his glass but not probing on that subject further. "How long have you lived here?"

Glancing around the apartment you shrugged, "A few months? I moved her from Medellín last fall."

Javier made a note of that, sipping his whiskey. "The place is nice, I like the quilt."

You smiled, finally, seeming to relax a bit. "My grandmother made it."

He smiled back, "I have a blanket my great-grandmother crocheted. Ugliest thing you’ll ever see. Old bat was colorblind." You gasped and choked on the whiskey and his grin grew wider. "You okay?"

"Yes," you croaked, holding a hand to your throat. "Just, went down the wrong way." Your eyes met his from under long eyelashes. "My grandmother would murder me if she heard me talking about her like that."

"Mine’s already passed," he shrugged. "I’m not worried."

"I’m sorry." You reached out and touched his knee and then jerked your hand back. He clocked that as well.

The whiskey was good, not expensive by any stretch but not cheap shit either. He watched as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, glass in one hand. Finally you said, "Vanessa says you’re… that you can pay. For… information."

This was what he had been waiting for. He leaned forward, dropping his glass to the table and turning his body towards yours. "That depends on the information."

You swallowed and nodded to yourself. "I know some… I heard something. About…"

He knew this dance as well. Knew why you were hesitating. "If you help me I promise to do everything I can to keep you safe."

You nodded again, still not looking at him. "If I knew something about Escobar. And his plans. That would be worth something?"

"If it turns out to be true," Javier raised an eyebrow. "If it helps us, then yeah. It’s worth something."

You nodded, silently staring into your glass.

"Do you know something?" he asked, watching your face. You stared into the distance before the words tumbled out.

"There’s a hit. On Friday. The Minister of Finance."

Javier blinked. He knew that. Six weeks of surveillance by the CIA hoping to find a connection for their own purpose had dropped the nugget of information to the DEA. It had taken a lot of wrangling and horse-trading to get the info, and even now he could admit it was more dumb luck than skill that had gotten them the notice.

Dumb luck, skill, and now you dropping it in his lap.

"How do you know that?" He asked and his eyes narrowed when you shook your head at him.

"I can’t- please don’t ask me that."

Also not uncommon. If the relationship continued he’d get it out of you eventually. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pack of smokes, giving you a questioning look and offering one to you. He lit it after you gave permission, letting it dangle from his fingers as he watched you.

"How do I know this is good intel?"

You sighed, setting your glass down on the coffee table. "The man, the one who is going to do the hit, his name is Jackal."

Javier sat bolt upright, dropping his cigarette across his empty glass. That was a name he’d only heard a few times. A sicario that had thus far evaded any attempt to get a photo. "How the fuck do you know that name?"

Again you shook your head. "I asked you not to ask me that."

He bit off his retort. If you had a lead on Jackal, even if it was only hearing about him in passing, then he needed you to keep offering him intel. Needed you to trust him and tell him how you knew this. He pulled his wallet out with a grunt, opening it and thumbing through the contents. Javier looked at you through the cigarette smoke as he dropped a twenty onto the table.

"Until I can confirm," he paused and looked you over. You weren’t really his type. He liked his girls primped and preened, long nails and perfect makeup. But then again, there was something about the smooth skin that your dress showed, the curve of your thigh, the way he could see your nipples pebbled against the fabric. You weren’t his type but he was willing to make an exception. Slowly raising an eyebrow, he held your eye as he counted out another sixty bucks. "Yes?"

You nodded, licking your lips, the action making his cock stir. He added another twenty onto the pile, making it an even hundred, before folding the remaining cash and shoving it back into his jacket. "Drink up," he motioned at your glass, picking his cigarette up and taking a puff.

"You’re beautiful," he said conversationally and you choked again. His brow furrowed. It was just something to move the night along. To get out of the idea of you being an 'informant' and back into your day - well night - job. The girls usually liked it when he complimented them, winking at him and offering to show him all of their beautiful parts. But you seemed flustered and your chest heaved.

It was an amazing act.  

"Can I kiss you?" A standard question. Every girl had a different standard for what they were willing to do - the intimacy they were comfortable with. Judging from your look and demeanor - your schtick was 'hometown sweetheart'. Javier was pretty sure the answer would be yes.

Sure enough you nodded and he carefully set his cigarette to the side, shuffling across the couch and cupping his hand behind your neck. Pulling you closer to him and gently pressing his mouth to yours. Your lips parted on a gasp and he took advantage of it, thrusting his tongue deep and licking inside of you.

You smelled sweet. Tasted it too. He was used to women who tasted like cigarettes, maybe alcohol - just like he was sure he did. But you tasted like sugar and he delved his tongue deeper into your mouth to chase it. He wondered, idly, if you would taste as sweet all over. If maybe tonight would be the night to break his general distaste on going down on a hooker. He always thought, in the back of his mind, that he would end up with a mouthful of someone else’s cum if he did.

He didn’t begrudge you your profession, but there were some aspects of it that frankly didn’t interest him.

You moaned softly and he wrapped his arms tighter around you, guiding you backwards until you spilled down onto the couch. He slipped his hand under your shirt to palm at your breast, your back arching up to him with a small gasp. Oh, he liked that. The air of inexperience rather than the usual carefully orchestrated arches and moans. He thrust his tongue into your mouth, finding your nipple with sure movements and rolling it between his fingers.

You cried out, your hands tugging at the strands of his hair and your thighs parting so he could settle more firmly between them. His lips ghosted down your neck, digging his teeth into the soft flesh and you trembled. You fucking trembled and Javier made a mental note that he had gotten a deal with the hundred he had dropped for you.

His hands pulled at your clothes and you dropped your own to help, pushing the top of your dress down. Reaching behind his neck he pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons, and then leaned down and pressed his chest to your bare skin.

"Fuck you feel good," he groaned into your mouth, tongue darting out to taste you once again. Your fingers skimmed down his spine, slipping beneath the band of his jeans and then rising back up. He wanted your hands on him and he reached behind himself to catch one of your wrists, dragging it between your bodies and pushing it beneath the denim. Your touch was soft at first, hesitant, but a thrust of his hips pinned your fingers between his cock and your stomach and he could rock himself into your palm.

It took very little adjustment to press his mouth to your breast, to pull your nipple into his mouth and tug. Your hand clenched around his cock and you let out a soft whine that sounded almost like his name. He grinned, moving to your other breast, rubbing his cheek to your soft flesh.

"You smell like cookies," he groaned, licking underneath your breast and then up to your neck. "Fuck, how do you smell like fucking cookies?"

"It’s vanilla," you gasped and he pressed his nose to your neck, inhaling the soft scent. It reminded him of home, of lazy weekend mornings and a domesticity he had left behind in Laredo. Powdered sugar on almond dough and canned preserves pulled out for Sunday breakfast.

Fuck he definitely hadn’t paid you enough.

He shifted his weight on the couch, reaching down to stroke up your thigh. He felt you shiver and then his fingers met soft cotton. Soft, damp, cotton.

"Oh sweetheart," he pressed his lips to your cheek, pushing the fabric aside and running his hand through your slick heat. "You’re so wet. For me?"

You didn’t answer but your thighs parted further and his thumb slipped over your clit. He heard you gasp, pulled back to see you bite your lip and arch your neck.

"Can you come for me pretty thing? Come on my fingers before I fuck you?"

The hand that was in his pants shifted, fingers wrapping around his cock more fully and he dropped his forehead to your shoulder and matched your movements, slipping two fingers inside of you. Felt you squeeze around him even as your hand tightened and slid across his cock. If he wasn’t careful he was going to come in his jeans like a fucking teenager.

He sat back on his heels, using his free hand to pull your hand out of his pants. With a careless twist of his wrist he flipped your skirt back and tugged your panties to the side. "Oh that’s a pretty little pussy," he growled, "you think you can take three?" He didn’t wait for a reply, pulling your hips up so they rested on his thighs and then slipping three fingers deep inside you. You reached over your head with both arms, twisting your hands into the pillow under your head. The action lifted your breasts up higher and Javier wished he had a third hand so he could pinch your nipples while he played with you.

Three fingers in your cunt, two fingers of his other hand rubbing across your clit. He could fucking hear how wet you were for him, felt your muscles clench around him, your knees rising further to his sides. "Yeah, fuck baby that’s it."

He wouldn’t say you screamed when you came. The sound was lower than that, more of a helpless cry than anything else. Your mouth opened in a perfect 'O' - a shape made to take his cock. Maybe next time. Right now, he wanted to be inside of you.

His jacket was on the floor and he retrieved a condom while you were still recovering, slipping it on and giving himself a couple of short tugs. Leaning forward and propping one hand on the pillow next to your head, he pushed your panties to the side. Lining himself up and slowly sliding inside of you.

You had been tight on his fingers, on his cock you fit like a fucking glove. He pressed all the way, watching your face as you took every inch of him. The way your forehead crinkled and you bit your lip. Then your eyelashes fluttered open and you met his eyes.

Fuck, you smiled at him.

He fell across you, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and taking you hard and fast. He could feel your nails raking down his back, your legs lifting to wrap around his hips. He wanted to make you come again, wanted to feel you shudder and moan beneath him.

But your hands came up to cup his face and you moaned "Javi" directly into his mouth and he fucking came. Body hunching over yours as he cursed and grunted, fucking hard into you and then dropping his forehead to yours.

"Fuck I’m sorry," he mumbled, kissing you softly.

"For what?"

He groaned and pulled out of you, leaning back to the other side of the couch and stroking his hand along your calf. "I’m not usually such a fucking two-pump chump."

You pulled a blanket from the back of the couch, tucking it under your arms and covering your legs before sitting up and placing your hand over his. "Maybe… maybe we try again?"

Javier leaned his head back and shut his eyes. How the fuck did that make him feel worse? "No, I have to go. There’s something I gotta… anyway. I can’t stay."

"Oh."

He turned and looked at you, reaching out and chucking you lightly under the chin. "Maybe next time?"

Your smile was bright enough to light up the fucking city. For just a moment Javier felt like he was the only man in Bogatá.

God damn you were good at this.

.

Pt 2

.

Taglist:

@hnt-escape, @kesskirata , @supernaturalgirl , @notabotiswear , @wonderlandgabby , @pascalesque

[rigmarolling]

History in the News: DUDE, WE KNOW WHAT THIS MUMMY SOUNDED LIKE

Are you freaking out?

Are you?

I mean, maybe you’re freaking out in general but HERE IS SOMETHING SPECIFIC FOR YOU TO FREAK OUT ABOUT.

“...about which you can freak out?”

WHO CARES? BECAUSE BOY HOWDY, HOLY SHIT, AND HOT DANG, SCIENCE HAS DONE IT AGAIN.

(A warning, for those who may not like photos of mummies...below the cut, thar be a photo of a mummy. It’s not that bad, I promise.)

Meet Nesyamun. In life--more than 3,000 years ago--he was an Egyptian priest and scribe at the Temple of Karnak. Today, his well-preserved mummy calls Leeds its home, and he’s one of the most extensively-studied mummies in England.

People just can’t get enough of this guy. So much so that a few years back, scientists referenced his mummy to reveal what our buddy Nesyamun actually looked like:

Look at that Yul Brynner-lookin’ dreamboat. Those eyes! Those cheekbones! That flawlessly symmetrical face! Look at him go in that temple, carrying incense, honoring the gods, chanting their sacred hymns...

Oh, and speaking of chanting, not only do we know what he looked like, but with the help of science, we now know what he may have sounded like.

Did you get that? Let me just reiterate it in case it hasn’t sunken in that this is one of the coolest things ever:

WE KNOW WHAT THIS 3,000-YEAR-OLD DEAD GUY’S VOICE SOUNDED LIKE.

Well, sort of. 

See, Nesyamun may not look like it, but he’s very well-preserved, as far as mummies go. See for yourself:

Oh, please. Don’t make that face. Like you haven’t woken up from a three-hour nap in the middle of the day, dehydrated and disoriented and looking like beef jerky.

ANYWAY.

We know a lot about this guy, partly from the detailed information about his life inscribed on his sarcophagus, and partly because of his mummy, which, yes, I promise is in good condition. 

Such good condition, in fact, that when scientists ran this dude through a CT scan, they discovered that his vocal chords were still intact. 

“What to do with this information?” David Howard, one of the members of the team that resurrected Nesyamun’s voice, wondered. 

But Howard knew exactly what he wanted to do with that information: 3D print out the vocal chords and produce sound from them to simulate the priest’s voice. Howard has done this before--3D printing out copies of vocal chords to see how accurately the printed copy mimics a voice, I mean. He’s done it on multiple living people, including himself, and the results are pretty spot-on when it comes to replicating what someone sounds like. 

But he’d never tried it on a dead guy. So with the help of a team of archaeologists, Egyptologists, computer whizzes, and other people who are infinitely smarter than you and I could ever hope to be, Howard and his band of Archaeology Avengers got to work. 

Above: Family photo.

They used computer tech and detailed scans of the mummy to identify the vocal chords and did some sort of alchemy in the computer that I know can be logically explained but which is actually probably some sort of digital witchcraft. 

And then, out of the 3D printer came a life-size model of Nesyamun’s voice. 

Well, his vocal tract, at least:

Yeah, I know. You can say it: it looks kind of gross. No one’s offended, it’s fine.

Meanwhile, using the information they had scanned into their witchcraft robot computer, they were able to reproduce what Nesyamun may have sounded like.

And here it is...a voice that hasn’t been heard in more than 3,000 years:

.....Okay. 

Okay, I know what you’re thinking: 

“Wait, what? What the hell was that?”

Just give me a minute to explain. There’s a reason Nesyamun sounds like the noise you used to make when your mom asked you how school was. 

See, the scientists stressed that they were only able to produce sound, not speech. This is only what air running through those vocal chords sounds like. 

Also, the scientists were up against a slight challenge recreating that sound because our friend Nesyamun was, um...

...missing his tongue. And part of his soft palate. 

Above: Oh, wait, no, it’s still in there, never mind.

As far as we know, this was just natural corrosion and not the result of anything creepy, nefarious, or cinematic; just the consequence of, you know. Being really, really, really old.

But the missing tongue and part of the soft palate complicated things because, as you can imagine, your tongue plays a key role in how you sound and how you speak. Without it, you’d probably sound like...

“...eh.” This mummy.

So the scientists had to recreate the tongue and the rest of the missing bits as best they could, using measurements from other similarly-sized mouths. And for the purpose of their study, they were only able to reproduce one vowel sound.

One whiny, disaffected vowel sound, which truly echoes the malaise and general “do not want” of this day and age, meaning we should absolutely all stan Nesyamun, who, judging by that voice, is probably doing this in the afterlife right now:

Here’s the even cooler part: while the technology isn’t quite there yet, this means that someday--probably sooner rather than later if the world doesn’t implode on itself--scientists could potentially recreate what long-dead people sounded like, provided the person in question’s body and vocal chords are well-preserved enough. Heck, we could even hear them speak full words and sentences. They might even be able to digitally “talk” to us, bringing history alive in the most metal way possible.

That also applies to famous historical people, if, again, those famous folks’ bodies are still intact enough to wriggle out enough info from their vocal tracts. 

Now, the scientists in the Nesyamun study stressed that this technique understandably won’t work with just skeletal remains--in order to recreate a realistic voice, the bodies need more tissue and juice to ‘em.

But still. This is like magic. This is straight-up necromancy. Do you know what this means?

This means that one day, Henry VIII could scream at you to rub ointment on his festering leg ulcer. Rameses the Great could scream at you for not showing up to Thanksgiving dinner again, Moses, what the hell, man, I thought we were cool??? 

It also means that one day, our boy Nesyamun could sing again. In fact, that’s what Howard and his team of superheroes want to work on next: recreating the mummy’s whole mouth so he can sing the actual Ancient Egyptian chants he would have sung while praising the gods at the Karnak Temple. 

How do we know what the chants were? Why, they’re written all over his sarcophagus (and other places), of course! And music historians have already recreated Ancient Egyptian music. 

Now the only thing we have left to do is wrangle an actual Ancient Egyptian into performing that music for us.

Us, in 2030: Nesyamun! Nesyamun! Do Wonderwall! Wonderwall!

Nesyamun:

[chipped-bowl-of-soup]

Integrity Blues Thoughts

This album is just on a different level compared to the other Jimmy albums, which considering the strength of their discography is saying something! Justin Meldal-Johnsen’s production really does wonders for the album, especially in the bass department, and it really enhances the overall sound and feel of the album and pulls you in. Then there’s the lyrics, again, Jim’s best to date with a level of introspection and framing that is incredibly poignant.

Rest under cut but feel free to add 

  You Are Free, The End is Beautiful and Pol Roger are all perfect example of this.  I’ve already mentioned that as someone who has struggled with their sexuality for a long time, listening to You Are Free for the first time was over whelming. Especially the lines, "Amazing the effort we put in / Amazing the emotional bridges, tunnels, roads, and ways / We go around what's one step from our face". And, " Everyone has their opinions / But I'm the one that's gotta walk it / So much fear to get over / And so much pain to get past / Wish there was an easy way through / Wish there was a way to learn it all / And have my bright new shiny tools / Without the cost attached". The anthemic nature of the lyrics are then all encapsulated and enhanced by the swelling guitars and drums (I really love the drumming on this track, especially before the chorus).

You are Free is then followed by The End is Beautiful and having really immersed myself in this album for this discussion these two one after another had me on the verge of tears. “I was taped up to fight / I had my speech ready / Then like only you can, you stole the air out from me” is another line that gets me and perfectly articulates that experience of being frustrated with someone but you both realising that the anger is useless. The really stripped back instrumentation of this track really lets Jim’s vocals shine as well, there’s so much pain and yet acceptance in his delivery.

Jims vocals are just great on this album, he doesn’t have the strongest voice or a massive range but he pours such emotion into his delivery on every song. There are three moments that really stuck out to me, the first being the one I’ve mentioned a few times now  from Pol Roger, “I'd say get on and close the bedpost curtains / Pretend the ground is fire / I know that'd make you smile” with the wistfulness in the delivery, you can almost hear the smile. Pol Roger is also just an incredible closer, I like the explanation someone gave a while back about it being about long distance relationships, which with the bands lifestyle you’ve got to imagine is a really personal one for Jim. I think there’s also a running theme in it of being ok by yourself, which I’m maybe reading too much into but it’s a theme I relate to. Then the title track has probably his strongest vocal performance to date and again lyrically it’s just so poignant and encapsulates the theme of the album that was summarised in the letter that Jim published when announcing the album. The final one is actually earlier on the album on Pretty Grids the line “There's a chance I meet your eyes if I move in”, for want of better words, there’s a real swagger and smoulder to his delivery of that line, which given I think he said the song is about the start of a relationship when everything is new and exciting fits really well. The bridge on Pretty Grids is amazing and the bass line after if is so good!

The bass on Pass the Baby is so good as well but in general it’s kind of a weird one for me. Jim has apparently said it's about the unintended effects of manipulation and it coming back to bite you. Lyrically I can't see that but musically I completely get it, the song does a complete 180 coming in with that end break down section which is unreal live. It flows nicely into Get Right which is a solid rocker and bridge really elevates it. I also relate to the theme of being so set on this ideal future/goal that you don’t focus on the here and now. Through is also another great rocker with a great solo and a welcome burst of energy after the emotional wrangling that was You Are Free and The End is Beautiful.

The first three songs are probably the weakest of the album, You With Me I actually really do like, the choir opening (I’m not sure if that’s the correct term so feel free to correct me) is beautiful. Sure and Certain and It Matters both just don’t click with me for some reason, I think it’s that even despite the heart breaking lyrics of It Matters, they both just feel flat compared to the other songs? Plus, I definitely overplayed Sure and Certain before Integrity Blues came out and was bitter it was an encore song when I saw them live during this tour.

Integrity Blues is just such a personally resonant album, it came out about a month after I had finished my Masters, was unemployed and feeling directionless and without any real purpose which just left me in a really bad place and I really needed this album. Which is why I don’t expect to like Surviving as much, but I am still looking to forward to it!

[truthbeetoldmedia]

The Critical Role of 'Critical Role'

It’s any given Thursday night, roughly 9:50 pm Eastern Standard Time, and my house is filled with the scent of oven-fried chicken and the driving thrum of Celtic percussion and string instruments. The PS4 Twitch app is open, streaming an impressive flow of themed fan art over-scored by the aforementioned tune. My loved ones are gathered; we hunker down with our meals, eagerly anticipating the clock’s turn to 10 pm. It’s time for Critical Role.

Critical Role is a weekly Dungeons & Dragons campaign livestream, currently available on both its own Twitch channel Critical Role, as well as the Geek & Sundry Twitch. The series features live gameplay of a home-brewed world, created and made manifest by the talents of popular voice over artist Matthew Mercer, acting Dungeon Master, and featuring live unscripted performances by his equally-gifted friends. The core players are Laura Bailey, Taliesin Jaffe, Ashley Johnson, Liam O’Brien, Marisha Ray, Sam Riegel, and Travis Willingham; special guests also occasionally join in, such as Khary Payton, Mark Hulmes, Sumalee Montano, and Ashly Burch, who've all appeared briefly in this campaign.

If some of these names are familiar to you, that’s because the talent involved in Critical Role are renowned, tested, and aggressively committed actors/members of the production, animation, television, film, and gaming industries. Their varied skills, gravitas, and dedication combine with Matt’s ceaselessly creative mind and quick thinking into an amalgam so dense and compelling that it’s hard, as a viewer, to escape the show’s pull. Not that I’d want to; I’ve long since passed the event horizon and I’m in it until the end.

Currently, Critical Role is on its second iteration. Campaign 1 ran for several years as a private home-game amongst friends, then was translated into a format fit for livestreaming. It followed the heroic band of adventurers known as Vox Machina,  made up of characters birthed from noble archetypes; imperfect yet admirable individuals with the heart and skill to face world-rending, inconceivably fearsome enemies; a story intricately laced with nuance and lore, but grander and more sublime for it.

Campaign 2 is quite different in flavor, though still seated in the same world as its ancestral adventure, some 10 years after the fact. The team is now The Mighty Nein, a name blithely transplanted from an in-joke made by the Twitch chat and the cast themselves. The new characters are deeply flawed, broken, and self-centered individuals brought together by aligned goals and a specific brand of apathy only possible in jaded, wounded souls who just want to do at least a few decent things in their blighted lives. Despite this somewhat bleak tapestry, Matt and the Players have managed to weave in glittering threads of love, charity, hope, and devotion. It's tragic and beautiful; both rough and soft to the touch, depending on which swatch you feel.

Given that Campaign 1 is so voluminous in its scope, breadth, and tenure, it is understandably overwhelming as a starting point for the uninitiated. For this reason, I recommend diving in at the beginning of Campaign 2, launched on January 10, 2018 and available for free on Geek & Sundry’s YouTube.

I’m aware that modern media is crawling with genre stories: you can’t walk three feet without banging your toe on some phylactery or superpowered humanoid. And while Critical Role takes place in an indisputably fantastical setting, where the characters level up and come into powers which they often don’t initially comprehend, this is not a “coming of age” tale. There are no “Hero’s Journey” tropes. The growing pains explored are generally relegated to the emotional, intellectual, and spiritual. The Mighty Nein learn and develop in tandem, outside the constraints and moors in which storytelling often entrenches itself. That’s the beauty of Dungeons & Dragons. Regardless of what the Dungeon Master has planned for each session, if they’ve given the Player Characters enough freedom, the emergent narrative is wholly original.

Being a Dungeon Master is famously likened to wrangling cats, though I find it more like wrangling cats who’ve learned to use laser pointers and Roombas on their own. One of the areas where Critical Role shines is that Matt is always over-prepared for whatever path the characters may choose, not to mention remarkably quick on his feet in adapting this sandbox he's established in response to how the Players decide to play, and the Players do him the courtesy of self-regulating their out of character moments and the silliness which often accompanies the excitement of roleplaying with your friends. Each session accumulates calculable progress.

But now that I’ve described the scaffolding on which Critical Role is built, I’d like to talk about the more abstract reasons I feel the series is so important, and why it’s absolutely worth your time.

One obvious benefit is that the series is live. Live broadcast media, in recent memory relegated mostly to sketch shows, soap operas, and the exhausting 24-hour news cycle, has been reinvigorated by the podcast, vlogging, and gaming communities. It’s a special joy to be present when something momentous occurs — a precious time-locked thing you share with a community made up of those who love what you love. An intangible communion of experience: in this instance, one where you cannot rely on your knowledge of narrative structure, because not only are we learning new things about these characters with the passage of time, but the actors who portray them are learning as well; all of which is packaged in breathtaking improvised acting.

The Players who make up The Mighty Nein are unafraid to make bold choices, to do things which until that precise second they didn’t know their characters would do. They don’t pander to the audience in order to provide the story beats which will make us comfy and complacent; these actors are so dedicated to maintaining organic character growth that, on occasion, some of their actions will frustrate, annoy, or anger the audience. However, the beauty in this is that none of the Players’ calls are pre-fabricated to elicit a specific reaction from the audience. You’ll love some stuff and hate some stuff, but there’s no onus, no learned helplessness, no pretense or smugness or hubris: those very things which can drive us up the wall when dealing with a lot of media these days.

Like most fandoms, there are some bad apples here and there, but Matt and the Critical Role team are dedicated to creating and maintaining an inclusive, intersectional environment where we can all thrive. The Critical Role cast and staff do everything possible to step in on behalf of their core players, special guests, and fans alike, in order to defend against, mediate, and mitigate the sporadic flares of anger, cruelty, and general suckiness which pervade so many other fandoms. They are humble and grateful and express it often, with deep sincerity.

Fan artists and other creators are welcomed, embraced, appreciated, and encouraged. Cosplayers are readily provided reference images and showcased on the official series Twitter. The Critical Role production group is even working on programs meant to provide new players and novice DMs with guidance for the 5th Edition Dungeons & Dragons game system, as well as help navigating the more complicated aspects of RPG group dynamics. Every Critter is celebrated and bolstered in an open-source, accessible, super-fun community.

This show has brought pure, distilled hope and joy to so many, while also maintaining its initial purpose: a group of close friends who nerd out roleplaying and having a blast. The only thing that’s ever changed is that now we get to be part of it, too.

Critical Role airs Thursdays at 7 pm Pacific Standard Time on either the Critical Role or Geek & Sundry Twitch channels.

[galacticbugman]

My most Dangerous moments

Hi gang how is it going I know I have already made two recent posts but I wanted to go ahead and make one more! So you may be wondering why I am holding a snake. Well it is all part of my plan to remind you that it is snake season that there are few snakes you should be made aware of if you are planning to come to the Cross Timbers region or eastern any time soon. This little Rough-green Snake is totally harmless but there are some snakes I just wouldn’t handle at all. I am not really a true herpetology nerd (Study for Reptiles and Amphibians is what it means for those of you who are giving me that strange look right now) This was taken last year at River Legacy just before fall came. But it is spring now and things are warming up around here so there are two kinds of snakes you should be aware of while traveling this spring and summer in the Cross Timbers of Texas. I know its all about Texas right now but give it a few months we are defiantly planning to go to Colorado in the Summer so I can give Texas observations a break and go to the mountains and get some observations up there. Right now though I want to talk about this. 

 One of the most common snakes you need to be aware of is the Venomous Copperhead. This guy blends into its environment very well. This blog post is called my most dangerous encounters because this was a venomous snake I photographed. Now I was not in any real danger because I saw it and I kept my distance as I got my photographs. This guy was at Elmer W. Oliver when I saw it. This was my first shot of a Copperhead, my first time seeing one, and my very first venomous snake so basically a first on two accounts. I was with my granddad and we went on the path a little less traveled which went to the side of the first pond where the fishing dock is. Anyway we were walking and at the corner of my eye I saw something that looked totally out of place. I saw the bands of this snake. I was walking pretty fast but I had shifted my eyes at the right time to see this guy sitting on this brush pile basking in the sun trying to warm up. He was a pretty good size snake. I got just a touch closer but still most of this is the zoom talking. I was not close at all and I made sure that I had good footing on the trail so that way I wouldn’t roll into the brush pile or the area behind it so that way I wouldn’t run the risk of getting bit. This snake was an absolute beauty. I had only seen these guys in captivity and I had never seen a wild one before but oh man was it cool. Just look at those patterns they are masters of camouflage. What people don’t realize when they get bit is how close they were to them. They can be right on a leaf pile where you can’t see it at all. Most snake bites happen when a person provokes it or accidentally steps on it. We have a saying in our naturalist group that goes the The first person will alert the snake, the second person gets away but the snake is now a little ticked off, then the third person will get bit. So be careful with your surroundings and watch out for these guys when you are at River Legacy, Elmer W. Oliver, Village Creek Historical Site, or anywhere in Dallas’s wooded areas, or this area in general because they will be out on warm days. 

Another shot of a separate Copperhead this one was at Village Creek Historical Area which is pretty close to River Legacy and the Inner Lochen area. This guy was found during our last iNaturalist City Nature Challenge which I will talk more about very soon coming up here in April so I can give it a rest after I make this last entry for the time being. 

This snake was found by the wife of one of my friends in our naturalist group. This guy was behind this huge log and he was looking right at me. I had my camera in at full zoom. There was no way I was going to get that close this sucker for he could have lunged at me if I made him feel uncomfortable. Remember to always watch an animal’s warning signs. If an animal has had enough it will give you warning but if you don’t give that animal its space or give it that respect it is going to get you. I have trained myself to watch for the warning signs I may not know all animals and their warnings but I am slowly learning as the years go on. This snake just slithered off after I got this shot. He didn’t want to have anything to do with me. Snake will not often bite with venom. Most of the time it is a dry fire and you just get the fangs. Snakes can’t eat us so they don’t want to use precious venom reserves on something they can’t eat. Also if a snake is agitated and turns around at you and starts moving toward you; just get out of the way. 

I had an experience at an school my aunt taught at a few years ago. We had a little plant garden and we went out there on a hot spring day to work out in it. I was in front of our cart that we had the water hose in, the gloves, shovels, and all of our other supplies. I was wearing my tennis shoes just for the record and I walked out in front of the cart and I didn’t see the huge Cottonmouth Snake or what we sometimes refer to as the Water Moccasin basking there on the patio just outside the doors. I walked out and stepped on its tail by an accident. I didn’t mean too but he turned around quickly and came at me. I got out of the way and alerted my family but the snake went in the building. We had to carefully use a rake and try and wrangle him. (DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!) We were able to safely get him over the fence so he could spend his time in the Stock Pond in the farm yard next to the school yard. Now that is a true story and one of the reasons I now wear mainly hiking boots around these areas where I live because we do get a lot of venomous snakes. So it was really dangerous to wrangle that snake but thank goodness no one got bit. We didn’t really know what kind of snake it was until we looked it up. I was completely shocked but I did the right thing. I stayed clam and got out of the way. Normally snakes will seem like they will chase you because you think that they have had enough and are going to teach you a thing or two. The actual fact is they are trying to run but are trying to defend themselves. As Sarah Harding from The Lost World: Jurassic Park said “Animals will defend themselves and violently if necessary!” This is a quote I used often to let people know that they are not going to attack you but if you agitate them enough they will give you something you are never going to forget. 

This is not the Cottonmouth that I stepped on but it is a Cottonmouth. I photographed him year before last when I was out doing some iNaturalist observations at the Fort Worth Nature Center and Refuge. My aunt and I were the only two out on the path that leads onto Greer Island. This guy was coiled up which is a sign you shouldn’t even get close because it is ready to strike to try and catch a potential meal. I gave this guy was wide birth and took some shots. Again I am not close at all. I was standing up a few yards from where the snake was sitting and it is the zoom that is doing all of the talking. There is a correct way of dealing with venomous snakes. What I did was give it some breathing room so that way it wouldn’t be scared or try to come at me thinking I was a potential threat. He stayed calm and we went on our way without either of us;my aunt, myself, or Mr. Snake here getting harmed. 

If you are bitten by a snake there are a few rules that are critical and there are things to do and things to not do. 

What not to do: Cut and start sucking the venom out. That will only do more harm than good for one thing you cut yourself deeply and two you will start to panic. That venom works quickly and truth it is in your blood stream and there is not guarantee that the venom will come out and panic caused for your heart to race and that will make the venom work its way into your body faster. You only put yourself in an even more dangerous situation. 

Do not use store bought snake bite kits. 

what to do 

Remain calm, if you have some with you, you or said person call the emergancy number. Remain calm, help will be on the way. remain calm get a pen or a marker or something to mark the place where you have been bitten and the emergency team will use that to make the treatment much quicker, again don’t panic; remain calm. your job is to stay as calm as possible so you don’t cause yourself more harm. So follow these instructions and you will be just fine. 

Many people find snakes to be distasteful creatures. For me I think they are beautiful and just misunderstood. Though for centuries snakes have been characters representing evil or the Devil’s agents. The truth is snakes are not like that at all. They have a part to play on this planet as population control officers for other reptiles such as lizards, rodent and frog controllers, and bug zappers. Copperheads can feed on a kings ransom of cicadas in the summer. So they do a lot of good for our environment. So the thing is to respect them. You are on their turf so like I said earlier be mindful of your surroundings, slow down, and keep an eye on all of what you see. You might just miss that Kodak moment. Snakes are here for a purpose unnecessary killing of snakes does more harm than good as well. So the trick is to not handle them unless you are a professional or if a trained professional says it is okay. I am not a professional but I am a naturalist and somewhat understand but the trick is to pick your battles and think to yourself is it worth it. Knowing the warning signs that an animal has had enough will help you avoid risky confrontation with wildlife. 

So until then I am Galactic_Bug_Man and I will see you on the trail!

[blankasolun]

Music media wrote about the court case that the remaining members of Soundgarden filed a lawsuit against Vicky Cornell in response to her claims of the band allegedly wanting to deprive her and her children their part of royalties that she made public December (I wrote about it in this post). You’ll find the media coverage below.

Loudersound

Soundgarden countersue Vicky Cornell – allege she used cash from charity concert for “personal purposes”

By Scott Munro (Classic Rock) 3 days ago

Soundgarden file legal papers in Florida over music copyright issues, ownership of social media accounts – and allege money raised from the Chris Cornell charity concert was used by Vicky Cornell for “personal purposes for herself and her family.”

In December last year, Vicky Cornell, the widow of Chris Cornell, issued legal proceedings against Soundgarden.

Vicky sued the band, claiming they were withholding hundreds of thousands of dollars in royalties which were owed to her and her family – with the legal wrangle also involving copyright issues over seven audio recordings made by Chris before his death in May 2017.

Now, Rolling Stone report that surviving Soundgarden members Kim Thayil, Matt Cameron and Ben Shepherd are countersuing Vicky and the Chris Cornell Estate, calling her complaint an “offensive recitation of false allegations and accusations.” 

In legal papers filed at the US District Court of the Southern District of Florida on Wednesday, the band categorically deny “every material contention lobbed by Vicky Cornell, who filed her Complaint – rashly and without good cause – with the true purpose of extorting Soundgarden into conceding rights to which she is not legally entitled, and of coercing Soundgarden to prematurely distribute Soundgarden funds to her.”

The documents also allege that Vicky is in control of Soundgarden’s social media accounts, with the papers also addressing the copyright issue of the recordings that Vicky pointed to in her original Complaint.

Soundgarden also allege that money raised at the I Am The Highway: A Tribute To Chris Cornell charity concert at The Forum in Los Angeles on January 16, 2019, was used by Vicky for “personal purposes for herself and her family.”

Revenue from the concert benefitted the Epidermolysis Bullosa Medical Research Foundation, but the papers claim: “All recipients of the revenue from the Cornell Concert have not been identified, and Vicky Cornell has failed to adequately respond to counter-plaintiffs’ formal and informal inquiries about how these revenues were used and expended.”

It adds: “Soundgarden is informed and believes and theron alleges that Vicky Cornell’s representation was false in that Vicky Cornell did not have the intention of using some or all of the revenue from the Cornell Concert for charitable purposes, but rather for personal purposes for herself and her family.”

The charity concert saw artists from across all musical genres perform, including Foo Fighters, Metallica, Tom Morello, Brad Wilk, Josh Home and Miley Cyrus.

Blabbermouth

SOUNDGARDEN Members Countersue VICKY CORNELL Over Tribute Concert

May 7, 2020 20 Comments

According to Rolling Stone, the surviving members of SOUNDGARDEN have countersued Chris Cornell’s widow Vicky Cornell and the Chris Cornell estate, accusing them of using revenue from the January 2019 Chris Cornell tribute concert for personal purposes for Vicky and her family.

The countersuit, which was filed in U.S. District Court of the Southern District of Florida, Miami division on Wednesday (May 6), claims that Vicky Cornell requested in late 2018 that Kim Thayil, Matt Cameron and Ben Shepherd agree to perform at the “I Am The Highway: A Tribute To Chris Cornell” January 16, 2019 concert in Los Angeles without compensation. “To induce SOUNDGARDEN to agree to this request, Vicky Cornell represented that the revenue from the Cornell Concert would be used for charitable purposes,” the complaint states.

Thayil, Cameron and Shepherd allege “that Vicky Cornell’s representation was false in that Vicky Cornell did not have the intention of using some or all of the revenue from the Cornell Concert for charitable purposes, but rather for personal purposes for herself and her family. SOUNDGARDEN is informed and believes and thereon alleges that Vicky Cornell knew that the representation was false, or exhibited recklessness or negligence as to its truth or falsity, for the purpose and with the intent of inducing SOUNDGARDEN into agreeing to perform at the Cornell Concert without compensation,” the counterclaim reads.

According to the lawsuit, “Vicky Cornell’s representation was material to SOUNDGARDEN in that SOUNDGARDEN had no interest in performing without compensation at a concert that financially benefited Vicky Cornell and her family. SOUNDGARDEN relied on its belief that the revenue from the Cornell Concert would be used for charitable purposes in deciding to agree to perform at the Cornell Concert without compensation. As a direct and proximate result of the breach of Vicky Cornell, SOUNDGARDEN has suffered damages as a result of Vicky Cornell’s misrepresentation including lost reasonable compensation for the Cornell Concert and reputational harm.”

The countersuit adds that “all recipient(s) of the revenue from the Cornell Concert have not been identified, and Vicky Cornell has failed to adequately respond to Counter-Plaintiffs’ formal and informal inquiries about how these revenues were used and expended. In a Declaration in Support of her Opposition to the Motion to Dismiss filed in this action, Vicky Cornell states that $643,000 of the concert revenue was donated to the Epidermolysis Bullosa Medial Research Foundation. But Counter-Defendants have not identified the whereabouts or disposition of the remaining revenue. Counter-Defendants have so far refused to respond to inquiries relating to the Cornell Concert, including failing to provide any substantive interrogatory responses or document productions in response to discovery propounded by SOUNDGARDEN in this action relating to the Cornell Foundation and the Cornell Concert. Moreover, until shortly before this filing when the Cornell Foundation released its 2018 Form 990 (almost a year late), the Cornell Foundation had not publicly released any information detailing its financial position since 2017. Finally, as of the date of these Counterclaims, the Cornell Foundation’s website still appears not to have been updated since 2017. A thorough accounting is required because Vicky Cornell promised SOUNDGARDEN that no portion of the revenue generated from the Cornell Concert would be used for anything other than charitable purposes as consideration to induce SOUNDGARDEN to play at the Cornell Concert.”

Last December, Vicky Cornell filed a lawsuit against Thayil, Cameron and Shepherd, alleging the group owed Cornell’s estate hundreds of thousands of dollars in allegedly unpaid royalties and the rights to seven unreleased recordings made before the singer’s death in May of 2017.

Responding to Vicky’s lawsuit, Thayil, Cameron and Shepherd claimed that they “don’t have possession” of their “own creative work,” and alleged that “Vicky Cornell has possession of the only existing multi-track recordings of the last SOUNDGARDEN tracks that include Chris Cornell’s instrumental parts and vocals. All of the band members jointly worked on these final tracks, Vicky now claims ownership of the final SOUNDGARDEN album.” They also insisted that all of the bandmembers, not just Cornell, are owed monies, but none of them will be paid until “expenses are paid and the partnership shares of earnings can be calculated and distributed.”

Consequence of Sound

Soundgarden Countersue Vicky Cornell, Claim She Used Charity Show Proceeds for “Personal Purposes”

The suit also involves ownership of unreleased recordings and the band’s social media channels

by Spencer Kaufman

on May 07, 2020, 5:37pm

  The surviving members of Soundgarden have countersued Chris Cornell’s widow, Vicky Cornell, alleging that she used funds from a 2019 benefit concert for her own “personal purposes.” They also contend that she has taken over the band’s social media accounts without permission, and have also formerly responded to her claims over rights to unreleased songs they say were intended for a new Soundgarden album.

Back in December, Vicky sued the Soundgarden members, accusing them of falsely claiming ownership of seven unreleased songs and withholding royalties from her over the dispute. The band had insisted that the songs were meant for a new Soundgarden album, but Vicky claimed no formal agreement was made between Chris and his bandmates as to the intended destination of the tracks.

In their countersuit, filed Wednesday (May 6th), and published by Rolling Stone, Soundgarden’s Matt Cameron, Kim Thayil, and Ben Shepherd not only responded to those claims, but also levied a number of other serious accusations against Vicky. One of the most glaring is that she used proceeds from the all-star January 2019 concert “I Am the Highway: A Tribute to Chris Cornell” for “personal purposes for herself and her family,” despite the show’s intention to raise money for the charity organization The Chris and Vicky Cornell Foundation.

The Soundgarden members say they performed for free with the knowledge that all proceeds were going to charity, and that the concert brought in millions of dollars. They are suing Vicky for “fraudulent inducement,” alleging that “Vicky Cornell did not have the intention of using some or all of the revenue from the Cornell Concert for charitable purposes.” The Soundgarden musicians are now seeking “lost reasonable compensation” for the performance.

Vicky’s lawyer, Marty Singer, has already responded, claiming that the Soundgarden members were paid $78,000 for the performance, and that “every single penny of the proceeds generated by the concert were properly allocated and accounted for.”

Soundergarden also claim that Vicky has taken over the band’s social media accounts without permission. According to their suit, Vicky has “removed fan comments and has herself posted images and comments to publicly-accessible Band Social Media pages. Some of those postings by Vicky Cornell are intended to denigrate the Band and Surviving Band Members.”

Regarding the seven unreleased songs, the band members contend that Vicky is well aware that Chris’ vocal tracks were always intended for a new Soundgarden album, and not for a solo effort or any other project. Their countersuit alleges that Vicky filed a complaint for the “true purpose of extorting Soundgarden into conceding rights to which she is not legally entitled, and of coercing Soundgarden to prematurely distribute Soundgarden funds to her.”

Furthermore, the band also shared an email exchange between Matt Cameron and Vicky Cornell, in which Cameron asks for access to the vocal files, which were on a laptop that the band returned to Vicky upon Chris’ death. In the exchange, Vicky does appear to concede that she’d like to see Soundgarden release the songs for the fans, but insists she must have say in which producer the band can choose for the project. To which Cameron responded as follows:

“We have no issues with including you/Ron/label with a marketing plan once the new music is finished, but we have to finish the music first. We want to the opportunity to use Chris’ vocals from his demos to build the new tracks from. 3 of the songs I co-wrote, 1 song Ben co-wrote, Chris wrote 2 songs entirely, Kim co-wrote 1 song. There could be more finished vocals/songs buried somewhere in the files, we won’t know until we listen. I supplied Peter with a list of producers I contacted about the project. Apparently you had no idea who Butch Vig was, but he would be great for something like this, rebuilding tracks from source material. Chris always recorded amazing demos, so lucky for us, his demo vocals were perfect for these new songs. We just have to find his vocal tracks from his demos/computer files. You are conflating many unrelated topics in your email. We would never do anything to tarnish Chris’ legacy, a legacy we feel honored to be a part of.”

As per Cameron’s email, it seems like Soundgarden was eyeing Butch Vig (Nirvana’s Nevermind) as the ideal producer for the album. The full countersuit offers much more in the way of details regarding the unreleased material, and other matters. It can be seen in full below.

In her Instagram stories, Vicky Cornell responded to the countersuit, stating:

“As my beloved Chris would say, ‘They’ve reached a whole new low.’ A very easily disproven one… When you attack the foundation, you attack my husband’s legacy. The foundation has nothing to do with the issue of who owns Chris’s vocal recordings. Their knowingly false allegations are a deliberate attempt to not just harm my credibility but the Foundation my husband and I created and everything WE stand for.”

Blabbermouth

CHRIS CORNELL’s Widow Fires Back At SOUNDGARDEN: ‘They’ve Reached A Whole New Low’

May 7, 2020 56 Comments

Vicky Cornell has fired back at the surviving members of SOUNDGARDEN after they filed a countersuit against Chris Cornell’s widow and his estate, accusing them of misappropriating funds raised from a Los Angeles benefit concert.

In the counterclaim, filed in the U.S. District Court of the Southern District of Florida, Kim Thayil, Ben Shepherd and Matt Cameron accuse Vicky Cornell and Chris’s estate of “fraudulent inducement” for allegedly using revenue intended to be raised for charity for “personal purposes for herself and her family.” The suit claims that the “I Am The Highway: A Tribute To Chris Cornell“ January 2019 show generated “many millions of dollars” but that the “recipient(s) of the revenue … have not been identified.” “Vicky Cornell did not have the intention of using some or all of the revenue from the Cornell Concert for charitable purposes, but rather for personal purposes for herself and her family,” the musicians say in the suit.

In the counterclaim, Thayil, Shepherd and Cameron also accuse Vicky Cornell of controlling the band’s social media accounts and removing fan comments as well as posting images and comments to SOUNDGARDEN’s social media pages that “are intended to denigrate the Band and Surviving Band Members.”

“It is unfortunate that Chris Cornell’s three former bandmates — who have made millions of dollars from Chris’ hard work, talent and creativity — continue to attack Chris’ legacy, his widow, and his young children by making salacious, scurrilous, and vicious allegations in order to distract from the truth,” Vicky Cornell’s lawyer Marty Singer responded in a statement to Rolling Stone. “Their transparently desperate counterclaims — which were intentionally filed shortly before the eve of the anniversary of Chris’ death and the eve of Chris and Vicky’s wedding anniversary — do not change the fact that they are the ones who have improperly asserted ownership of vocal recordings that were created solely by Chris and that they are the ones who have unlawfully withheld substantial sums of money from Chris’ widow and children (which is the very basis for the current lawsuit).

“Suffice it to say that Vicky Cornell and the Cornell Estate vehemently deny the supposed ‘facts’ contained in SOUNDGARDEN’s counterclaims, which will be met with swift legal action. It is ironic that Chris’ former bandmates now feign outrage over the 2019 Chris Cornell Tribute Concert conducted by Chris’s foundation — which raised over $1 million for the Charity Foundation and paid over $650,000 for EBMRF for medical research and which has nothing whatsoever to do with the issue of who owns Chris’ vocal recordings — when SOUNDGARDEN received over $78,000 to perform at the charity concert.

“As Chris’ former band members are well aware, every single penny of the proceeds generated by the concert were properly allocated and accounted for and their statements are not only false and defamatory but demonstrate the depths to which Chris’ former bandmates are willing to sink to tarnish his legacy.

“It is also ironic that, after spending substantial time and attorneys’ fees (paid for out of the monies owed to Chris’ estate) arguing that the Florida court system lacks personal jurisdiction over them, Chris’ former bandmates have now sought relief from that very same court system by filing their counterclaims.”

Vicky herself also personally took the SOUNDGARDEN members to task for their allegations, writing in her Instagram Stories: “As my beloved Chris would say, ‘They’ve reached a whole new low.’ A very easily disproven one…

“When you attack the foundation, you attack my husband’s legacy. The foundation has nothing to do with the issue of who owns Chris’s vocal recordings. Their knowingly false allegations are a deliberate attempt to not just harm my credibility but the Foundation my husband and I created and everything WE stand for…”

#gallery-0-6 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 100%; } #gallery-0-6 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

  Soundgarden Countersue Vicky Cornell Music media wrote about the court case that the remaining members of Soundgarden filed a lawsuit against Vicky Cornell in response to her claims of the band allegedly wanting to deprive her and her children their part of royalties that she made public December (I wrote about it in…

[mistressofgitterandbones-blog]

Bottle of Fairy Dust and Tears

The sound of nickel chinking against the apartment door must have jolted my 5 inch fairy from his stupor. Wings snapped in the air sent a flurry of dust most and light particles into the room. Tat alighted on my shoulder. “Ugh.. I can still see you. No obscene amount of wine can eject me off this tinkerbell asylum” My hand swatted Tat like an annoying fly. I tottered to a mass heap of sundry articles that faintly resembled a bed, floundering in a supine state . I sputtered incoherent fragments of words that were frayed on my tongue. Unintelligible mutterings were a slight improvement from the whimpers that escaped from my mouth yesterday, and the day before that. Whimpers, as pathetic as they sound, were really just quiet admissions, finally buckling into the pain. An admission of reality you’ve continually shunted from. Still, traces of a hope can still be found in the silent spaces in between, despite the stacking odds. It can still shoot through the barren cracks. For most people, this is a visceral sensation calling you to attention. My hope was more, shall we say, corporeal. Irksome. My hope came in the form of a fairy. His presence was, understandably, difficult to ignore than a mere feeling. Fairies like Tat appear only in the most dire cases. He was now an obligated promise I had to make to myself to hold on a little bit longer. Sort of like being responsible for a stray mutt. I couldn’t exactly kick him out . Or maybe my already defunct sanity has exhausted its resources and left me high and dry. All in all, my hands were clinging onto a salvaged swath of worth to steady faltering legs. Legs that showcased days old patterns, stark on wan skin. Legs that lay bare under too many waning moons and not enough sunrises. “Are you okay? Um..Do you need anything?” Tat began to swarm around, checking vitals signs were adequate, or acceptable under the circumstances. This was the second night swaddled in alcohol. An ill-chosen defense from hands too brutish for a faltering frame and mind. This puny creature seemed inadequate for such fractured and ill-fated matters. One has to wonder how could a creature of paltry size to the scale of the human eye be of any consequential guidance or support? But I’m still surviving so evidence stood contrary to my uncertainty. I’d come to realise the essential quality within hope is its quiet stature, its soft catalyst. There lies its strength. It can seem so inadequately small to aid in traction, to move against the grain of our circumstances, but is an ever-present vigil in our darkest hour. This embodiment of hope, this fairy, knows the softest voice in the room has the space in which to listen, gather, compare, construct accordingly. It resides in the overlooked spaces between the noise. A space where knowledge is stored and generated. A space of beginnings. Tat was my beginning, and my end. And an incessant ear ringing in between. A dogged attempt of pressing my eyelids together was foiled by nimble fingers plying them apart with an unnerving ease. An undeniable strength concentrated in a minute form. I shut my eyes again only to be jolted by a sharp sludge of liquid hurled at my face. Its coldness felt like a glacial slap against my clammy skin. “Are you kidding me?!” I rubbed my eyes incredulously, mouth agape. “What in the actual winged nut-house is wrong with you?” I motioned upwards to wrangle the impudent toad but stopped myself as my stomach accelerated in an uncomfortable direction. “Maybe you should have some coffee. Better to sober up a little. Yes, yes.. I know I had some milk thistle somewhere.” His lilt voice and swift movement jolted my queasy, fragile constitution. “Oh no.” I willed with all my might to settle the tsunami that was inevitably hurling towards my mouth. Tat held my tangled, feral hair back as my eyes blurred against a grimy cascade of rejects and regret. In the midst of upchucking my dignity I heard that lilt. A soft voice brushing against my ears, reminding me of my soft parts. I wasn’t broken completely. Tat was still here. I was still here.

I found myself in a fetal position cradling against a clean coverlet, no vomit in sight, and hands stroking my hair. Hands that were neither small nor particularly gentle lately. Hands I shamelessly needed on my skin. “My silly cub.” He held a cup of coffee under my nose, letting the steam and glorious scent waft through my senses. If I could just capture this moment, place it in a frame of simplicity. A fleeting thought that is fractured and malleable component to our ever constructing lie we tell ourselves. It enables us to step further in our idealized story. I have a piece contained. The piece of this person kept safe before the darkness overlapped again. It shows the hands that held me as I cried my ugliness, carefully cutting out the piece where those same hands used my skin as a canvas of bruises. We always cut, cut, cut. So what are we left with? An incomplete person that matches our fabrication. So I lay still wrapped in the scent of coffee mingled with cigarettes and heady wood. Encased in my engorged fairytale. Lips parted, I arched my back, leaning into him willing these scents as a vector to guide him towards a warmth building up. He emits a growl but places the cup in my hands, kissing me on my forehead. “Coffee first.. And maybe have a shower? The scent of vomit was never really a turn-on” I faltered, admonishing myself in silence as shame wafted over me. I took a sip only to utilize my hands away from the awkwardness seeping through the room “Why did you leave anyways? I thought we talked about what happened. I thought. I thought we were okay. But you just left and got yourself into this state.” Tension and hurt contorted his face into new angles. Angles promising a burgeoning frustration if I didn’t act quickly. “It wasn’t a reaction from last night. I promise. Everything is fine. I love you.” I brushed against his arm, testing. “I just lost track of time.” “Lost track of the glasses of wine you drank more like.””He sat back, arms folded, eyes creating a vortex in my line of vision leaving nowhere to evade or look besides his questioning and stiff countenance. I felt my skin flush; a warmth that resembled a fever. There was a coldness to it, a raw wind coursing through my blood giving that edge that made me want to grab that scissors from the coffee table and begin cutting out my deficiencies I clearly couldn’t compensate for. I instinctively recoiled and deflected. My body tensed as I folded inward. “I didn’t know I needed your permission to have a few drinks with my friends. Friends. I suppose that concept is rather alien to you, since you seem to have so many in your life.” Words spilled from my mouth before I could catch them. These inexorable moments always seem to have a slower, disoriented pace than usual. “How would I have time to have friends?” The word friends hung sharp and penetrating in the air. “When I have a girlfriend to watch over and care for like an inept, self-destructive child. Is it any wonder I reacted the way I did yesterday when I have this mess to cater for day in and day out.” I winced. My mind was plucking out fragments of yesterday. There was no delicate arrangement in how I grafted the fragments together. They lay stark in my head. They were banded together by a bellowing voice and trembling body who wouldn’t be held as I cried those ugly tears. Only a cold, barren bathroom floor. “I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean..” “Yes you did. Excuse me, I have to go pick up my actual child. The maturity level will be to a higher standard than here with you.” He stood up abruptly. “Do this relationship a favor and take a look in the mirror today. Seriously look deeper, find a semblance of that girl I met when we were younger. I fucking miss her and I’m sure you miss her too.” He sauntered to the door and paused, lingering to match the slow trickle of the dripping tap. He glanced behind his shoulder, furrowed eyes dropping, along with his frown lines and anger. “I hate what you do to me. I hate who I turn into. I’m. I’m not that guy. Please, don’t make me that guy.” The door slammed behind him, hooking me in the scent of cold, pungent coffee punctuating the air. I heard flickers of a soft, light wings flap so gingerly the air seemed too heavy breathe through. He carried a wad of tissue, waiting expectantly for tears for flood my face but none came. Emotions wrung dry today leaving a face dry and hard. My body felt hollow. I guess it had been for a long time. “Why are you still here? Do you like cleaning my apartment? Do you enjoy  watching my pathetic life slowly disintegrate into nothing? You say you’re the emblem of hope but you’ve done absolutely nothing of value since you’ve arrived.” “I’m here by the very fact of hope. It is not up to me whether I stay or go. You hold that choice.” I sighed. A flicker of annoyance appeared on his face only to be replaced by a gentle expression I came to know and was currently taking advantage of. I was a selfish asshole. He alighted on my hand, placing his on my cup to warm up my coffee. “Drink up. Then go have a shower. All is not broken but you got to do some heavy lifting yourself. I am only a 5 inch fairy after all.” With submission, I gulped the rest of my coffee and staggered meekly to the bathroom ready to wash away the dirt that had been accumulated in my life for too long.

The humming of the shower was lulling me asleep until an insistent and reverberating rapping stirred me. I looked up to two wet and ragged fairies slapping repeatedly against the window pane. An annoyance quickly dissipated giving way to a satisfied grin creeping on my face. I hesitated. The Fairy council has strict rules about meetings or social calls with other fairies and their respective humans that is not mandated or approved. Proper protocols must be adhered. Meetings must also be recorded for regulatory and archiving purposes. Tedious but necessary nonetheless. Although that was not my immediate reasoning for hesitating. One specific reason was an insufferable excuse for a fairy. More like a fluttering troll. I’m surprised she could tend to her own wings never mind guide her charge with all her caterwauling that spews from her mouth. Basking in my delight in such visual delights of her discomfort I quickly admonished myself for indulging in such weaknesses, human weakness. A fairy must be diligent and abstemious in such matters. Our calming and stoic nature maintains a homeostasis around humans. It helps to ease their suffering. We are but mere receptacles for their pain. A monument of hope, solidified and sedentary in the throes of life mangling our person. Remembering there was another fairy accompanying her I quickly flew over the window to let them in. “It’s about time. I was beginning to think Molly’s alcoholic breadth had finally killed enough brain cells to render you witless – which wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to achieve considering there is not too activity going on in the first place” Mina tapped my forehead pointedly before violently shaking herself dry. She raised a hand covered in a ragtag piece of cloth level to my nose. I raised my eyebrow. “What do you expect me to do with this grimy dishcloth exactly?” “I expect you to practice your hostly duties and hang up my shawl” “I am not your host. I didn’t even invite you. You’re not even permitted to be here.” I swatted her hand away, casting her rag to the floor. “Unbelievable. It seems you’ve adopted more of Molly’s fine qualities I see. I’m not the only one breaching the rules. So much for maintaining an objective role in your person’s life. I think someone is drinking from the human fountain too much.”Affronted, she gingerly picked up the dishcloth and placed it on the bed, ironing it out with her fingers. “Oh Mina, it is not made of woven silk. You constructed it from materials you found in dumpsters and streets.”The fairy I kept forgetting was here chimed in. “Apologies Tat, she is just a bit frazzled. We all are. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. This is a delicate matter we have to broach. Mina is not the most tactful as you know. I..” “I’m not the most tactful? Tat doesn’t even have the basics of manners down. No. He’s too busy drowning in Molly’s personality to notice what is happening to us.” Her wings flurried in a haze as she pushed a finger into my chest. “So don’t apologize to him. He should be grateful we’re even here in this molded apartment. The only charm this place has is when Molly isn’t in the room.” She spat out Molly’s name as if spewing the distaste from her mouth. Feeling a peculiar sting from her comments, I stilled myself from acting upon an urge to grab her wings and twist them into a tightly bound knot emblematic to her personality. I sighed. But she was right on one account. I willingly let Molly’s thoughts and actions intersperse with my own. When we are assigned,we are bound to our humans base personality so they can acclimatize but we should not indulge in their impulses. We could easily forget our purpose while being swept up in the human conditions and all of the glorious connections and emotions that spark an existence, like a match running along a striker. Humans forget they can see and feel life with such penetration and intensity. Every experience is a validation of existence. I was drunk on it. I was drunk on her. A selfish thought traveled through me. Did I even want Molly to find peace. If she fought her way out. I would need to move on. I wouldn’t be able to see  her anymore. Tamping down my unsavoury thoughts as quickly as I could I turned to Mina. “Since you haven’t had the prudence to follow protocol, please keep this meeting brief so I may write to the council in case you failed to clean up your trail coming here.” “Ever the professional. You act like the professor to us mere pupils but who has been corralling wayward fairies off the street, marshaling them back to their purpose, making sure their humans are taken care of. I have been picking up everyone’s slack while you have locked yourself away leading an impeccable example of hope.” Mina rolled her eyes and fronted up to be me. “So you can step off that professional high ground because you have been everything but professional.” She stood solid in front of me as I suddenly felt small and permeable, as if the emotions swarming around this room were wringing my body till there was nothing inside left. I rubbed my temples hard willing her voice to disperse into the air. “Really Molly, If there was a significant issue here don’t you think the council would have notified me. I’ve had my hands tied here. Molly is passing a fragile threshold. It’s make or break but I think I’m finally reaching her. I think I can help her. I might have lapsed regarding my mentoring but I would have noticed the severity of the problems” I placed my hands on her arms and smiled. “It is commendable and prudent of you to convey your worries. It is duly noted. I appreciate the time you gave to inform me. It won’t be forgotten.” Mina shrugged my hands away and directed a firm gaze towards me. “Don’t patronize me. I’m not doing this for you. There mere fact that everything goes unnoticed by you does not mean it isn’t occurring. A good chunk of fairies around the world are wayward. They are rapacious for emotions and their chargers have suffered. Incentives to adhere to the rules and to remain austere in their practices are minimal if at all present. And I have to say I question your commitment. I question your adherence to our codes. And I am not the only one. Your feelings for this girl has left you distracted. You are unfocused. Obsessed even.”She held her head high, hands on hips. “It is after much deliberation that we arrived with the only course of action available for us. For the betterment and progression of our fairies and humans I request your denouncement so I can be chosen as the official field commander.” A heavy sigh rolled from my mouth. This was absurd. The room weighed down on me. Throat restricted and wings overheated and heavy I flew to the window to let some air in. A new wave of annoyance passed over me. It derived not from this conversation but from the time imposed upon me. I wanted to clear them away before Molly walked through the door. Sighing once more, resignation felt in every part of my winged form. “You need to write up a petition and collect more than 50 signatures for that to be even considered.” Mina clapped her hands. A swell of smoke appeared, dancing between her hands, malleable like clay forming a tabular outline which solidified. She popped the lid open and handed my a roll of tattered parchment. It unfurled to the floor. I quickly skimmed through the innumerable list of names collected. My eyes changed depth of perception so that the names blurred into smudges of nonsensical ink. I had never questioned my capability as a leader and thrived on guiding fairies in fulfilling their duties that encapsulated their entire being in one purpose – to serve their person, personify hope. As I gathered memories of the last few months they are alarmingly devoid of wings or guidance of those wings. I had lost touch of my cadre. I felt a ping of unease as I looked at the desperate and sodden fairies stood before me. With a prick, my ego was broached and deflated. The clarion of their pain and worry was written across their faces. I knew my responsibilities. The burden it carried. I could already see the weight slipping off me as I loosened the shackles and status. It was okay. I was in this room room.I was with Molly. I was taken care of my the mere act of caring for her. I didn’t need my wings anymore. Even if I only had a short time left with her. “As you wish.” I conjured a pen from a dust and smoke residue Mina built up. Signing it I felt a bitter freedom that felt terrifying and truthful. I knew what I was really giving up. “I was expecting more of an opposition than this. But I’m not surprised. I’m afraid you’ll be a cautionary tale.” Said Mina. She placed a hand on my cheek, contorting her features to a sadness I never seen on her before. “May the last thing you remember is her love for you.” With that sentiment they flew away into the night.

My back pocket vibrated as I contemplated if I should just pack up and leave. Tat would follow me to the ends of humanity. I wouldn’t be alone. I bitched and moaned about freaking fairy dust falling all over my furniture and his incessant hovering and mollycoddling but it was actually nice having someone caring about me. He could see pass the squalidness of my life. For the first time in my life I felt comfortable and validated with someone. Even if he was just a fairy. Or a figment of my imagination. Laughing at my craziness I extracted my phone to check an incoming message knowing too well who it was from. “Can we please meet up? Today unsettled me. I don’t want to leave things the way they are. I know we can work through your issues. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I love you.” What was wrong with me. I shouldn’t even contemplate answering him never mind agreeing to meet. Flashes of bruised cheeks and tears came like an onslaught. Fear mingled with my desire to see him. Bereft, I tumbled into my desire, hung my fear on my neglected rack too cloistered with misjudgment already. Fuck. I loved him. More than myself apparently. Maybe I was to blame, accountable to the standards we set in place. If I respected myself more. Set a tone maybe he wouldn’t.. I stuffed my phone in my back pocket berating myself. I would analyze myself to the grave if I didn’t stop. I grabbed a pen and paper, scribbling feverishly, sticking it to the fridge. I couldn’t just give up hard won years of work and commitment over a few lapses. Lapses, the word lingered precariously in my mind. Donning my coat I slipped out of the apartment leaving a snoring fairy to fill warmth in my otherwise lonely and uncherished home.

I sat by the threshold, noticing a layer of dust caked in the corner. I wondered how long I’d been sitting here, waiting for Molly. She had left a note which caused my stomach to coil up. It was uncharacteristic of her to leave notes. There was comfort in her habitual inconsiderations. An eventuality I could trust. So the note marked an odd finality to it despite the words promising her return. How long have I been sitting her? I guess there is not much more to do but let the dust mark time and read the note in rhythmic repetition. I gulped down stale air. How many days has it been? I should open a window. But I wanted to preserve every last drip of her in this room. The world would refuse to enshrine her so I must. She said she would return. The words seemed hollow on the page. I could barely look at it anymore. Crumbling it up I sunk into another waning evening as the darkness encroached into the apartment. I’ll just sit here a little while longer. I realized I was swallowing tears while I waited, wingless in the dark.