#peace for old ghosts

[uttersorcery]

Peace For Old Ghosts has just released a bewitching and gorgeous new mini album “Golden Decay” on Eyeless. Utter Sorcery asked about 5 records he loves right now and might have inspired him too.

Photo: Bertie Patel

1. Sylvie - Sylvie

Beautiful, warm and emotional. Sounds like a warm duvet on a Sunday morning. Immediately familiar, this slotted into my life instantly. Amazing live band too, such love for what they do onstage.

2. Careful of Your Keepers - This Is The Kit

A great record whose warm directness hides a hidden world of complex rhythms. Like a friend whispering helpful poetry into your ear.

3. The Natural World - Land Lines

This record is almost a decade old but a friend gave it to me and it's so good. Plucked cellos, krautrock grooves, and warm synths. Minimal and intelligent.

4. I Will Not Be Sad In This World - Djivan Gasparyan

Hauntingly beautiful solo flute music from Armenia. Despite the title, it's really fucking sad, and even more beautiful because of it

5. Emerald Tablet / Echoes - Somei Satoh

Longform Japanese drone that barely lifts it's voice above a whisper. "Echoes" was written for an exhibition where speakers were placed 1km apart on a mountain, surrounding you with the sound. It must have been incredible! This is deep listening that requires a bit of stamina, but it's very rewarding.

[ganjubai]

[mothscotch]

i had ideas yesterday

[justarandomlambblog]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 [END]

The second shackle comes off

Get adopted and feel loved, mangey cat

We're gonna pretend I didn't give Heket the wrong shaped crown aight? aught 👍

(explanation beneath the cut bc I didn't want dialogue)

The harvest comes. Narinder can't help but notice how sad the wheat fields are, the wheat growing small and patchy at best. He remembers how Heket would make the wheat fields flourish just by walking between the stalks. The memory of the fields she would create early in their godhood makes him feel somber, realizing now what the cost of being a godless land is; their entire lives are left to the limitations of the earth, without any god to help them thrive. These people are making the best of what they have, and they're happy even though it's not a lot.

Narinder notices some are harvesting wheat while others till the earth once it's been harvested, and the old dog explains that once this wheat is harvested they plant "winter wheat", which can be harvested in the spring before they plant their summer wheat. They till and fertilize the earth before planting the winter wheat, of course. Narinder tries his hand at harvesting the wheat, and the old dog begins to teach him how to use the sickle. Time passes.

Over the late summer, autumn and winter, Narinder learns how to live this provincial, modest life. He tills the fields with the other villagers, he sees feral beasts for the first time in over a thousand years, learns to collect eggs from said feral beasts, learns how and decides he doesn't like to collect milk (the godless lands have more feral beasts than the Lands of the Old Faith ever did), has finally regained enough strength to draw water from the village well without help, learns to bake bread (with great amounts of help so as to not waste the precious resources with the inevitable first fifty failures), and attends his first lantern festival. All in all, this marks his approach to his second year here, most of his first year spent indoors recovering. (His fur is also getting long, something something new me new hair something (totally not an excuse for me to draw hair))

At his first lantern festival, Narinder decides to partake in what is usually a coming of age tradition for the village; he gets an ear piercing, choosing a symbol that will essentially act as his written name. He chooses a symbol that is a crescent moon inside of a sun, thinking of Aym and Baal when he sees it. (Note: He is not scared/nervous about the ear piercing, he isn't bothered by a literal pinprick of pain, but the fact that someone he barely knows is this close with a needle is what worries him)

Later on, days or even weeks later, the old dog gives him a chain with their individual symbols on it, with a loose chain hanging from the other side of Narinder's sun-and-moon charm. Narinder questions this and the old dog explains the symbolism behind the charms; two charms with a chain extending between them indicates marriage/partnership, and two charms with another charm on the chain between them indicates that couple's child/children. The one Narinder has is the latter, with the second parent's charm missing, indicating that the old dog views Narinder as his own son, now. It takes a moment, but Narinder realizes all at once that this is the old dog's way of extending an invitation to become family- and it's been so long since Narinder had a family... (And yes, the old dog is fully aware that this cat is thousands of years old (Narinder was very vocal about this in the first weeks before he eventually stopped bringing it up), but that won't stop him from deciding he's gonna be this abandoned, fallen god's new family)

Narinder goes to sleep, and finds that despite everything- despite how simple and quaint and, frankly, not easy life in this little godless village is, he's happy. He has none of the luxuries that he had as a Bishop; no worship, no reverence, no servants, no silks or satins or veils or anything of the sort. Here he's just... one of the people. Just another face in the crowd. And he's happy. Happier than he's been in a long time. Unfortunately for Narinder, he is failing to realize that this godless village is a little less godless every day he's there. But that's not necessarily a bad thing.

The village wakes up to their fields flourishing like they never have before. The wheat is taller than the tallest villager, and no one is really sure what to do about this, but there is excitement throughout the village. Narinder thinks of Heket again, reminded once more how she would make the fields come alive. The shackle on his left hand opens up before dispersing into light, and he remembers the way she looked at him in the days leading up to his imprisonment, the quiet and somber warnings she would give him. He takes a moment to grieve before turning his attention back to the present, back to the family he's creating now.

[sonykatzen]

Let's dance ✰! ^_^

[tmnt-obsessed-ace]

Ok we have a full set of turtles that adopted rise turtles.

Same Story Different Font Leonardo

Shellshock Raphael

Ghost In The Shell Donatello

Know Peace Michelangelo

I wanna see them hanging out, getting into chaos, hell even taking a nap together (god they need it)

Absolutely yes :D

That would be so cool

[cream-and-tea]

LAY ME DOWN. chapter six excerpt. unedited. featuring: fivers attempt at honest conversation at a very bad time, the first of many. a category five Pallas Mental Illness Moment. thoughts of violence.

[transcript under the cut]

don’t ask if i’m posting this excerpt just to make this joke. you already know the answer. anyways me when i try to comfort the teenager that HATES me.

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-). @vellichor-virgo @transmasc-wizard​ @houndmouthed @muddshadow @just-wublrful @corkywantstowrite @shrunkupthejams @andromedaexists @kingsinking @lungs-and-gills @lychniscitrus @phantomnations @onomatopiya @sapphos-scientist @arctic-oceans @perilous-prologue @redbloodprose

Pallas leans their head against the stone railing and tries to think calming thoughts. Colour-coded notes, pens lined up in a perfectly neat row, the feeling of freshly laundered clothes against their skin, old-book smell, sticking their thumbs into Calliope’s eyes and watching his head explode like an overripe melon dropped onto concrete…

No. Not that. Not now. Cold water. The bite of frost in early morning air. Coffee so hot it scalds their taste buds going down. Slowly, infinitesimally, they allow themself to breathe.

Then sound, the scuff of a boot against the floor. For a split second of stupidity Pallas considers that merely thinking about Calliope has summoned her to torment them like some kind of bloody mary demon. They spin sharply on a heel, bristled, already narrowed in on a heartbeat and ready for a fight; only to find someone far worse darkening the tower door.

The man, tall and rangy with waves of blond hair pulled unsuccessfully back from his face, stops dead in his tracks, hands raised in the universal gesture for surrender. Fiver (as in the fictional rabbit, not the currency) looks, as always, like a problem that should have been dealt with years ago.

Pallas narrows their eyes, not moving an inch. “How did you know I was here?”

He shrugs, signature laissez-faire smile painted across his face, signature gaudy coat brushing just above his ankles. He's wearing red heart-shaped sunglasses and the overall effect is patently ridiculous.

Pallas isn’t certain why the Director tolerates Fiver at all. He’s a wanderer and a wretch who doesn’t even have his name logged in the ledger. He appeared out of the blue when Pallas was a child and has spent the years since darting in and out of The Library's halls whenever it suits him, like a stray cat who only wanders back when the weather gets cold. He’s far past the age of a student and yet hasn't taken up any official post, so Pallas has deduced that he is either an man so abominably foolish that the Director considers him below her notice, or he somehow holds knowledge that could be useful to the cause, in which case it’s not their place to question her. They don’t have to be cheerful about it though, not when Fiver knows things about Pallas that no one should know and insists on popping in and out of their life as if he doesn’t.

“Lucky gue-”

“You followed me.” Pallas cuts him off so they don’t have to listen to his voice. They narrow their eyes. Fiver takes a step further onto the balcony as if he has any right to.

“Calm down pal-o-mine, my ears were popping three floors away. I think everyone in this building can tell you’re out of it. I came to the place furthest away from everybody else. Trip not go so well?” He has a smile like the Cheshire Cat, it doesn’t once slip from his face. Instead of answering Pallas turns around to face the air. That’s right, they think, you’re so little of a threat to me that I don’t even care that I’m leaving myself exposed to attack from behind.

“Yeah, it’s like that sometimes,” Fiver continues lightly. “Hope it wasn’t a total horrorshow at least.”

Pallas crosses their arms on the railing and leans their chin on them. If they ignore him long enough eventually he will give up and leave. Still the footsteps draw closer and then, horribly, he appears next to them, leaning his arms against the railing as well. They resist the urge to move away, opting to keep staring straight ahead and trying not to think about the dirt smeared on their cheeks or the pine sap making their fingers stick together or their messy hair or anything else that will confirm to Fiver that they’re just as weak as he obviously believes. Heat floods to their face, ugly and rioting. What does he know? What does he know about anything?

They want to wash their jacket. They want to take everything out of their jacket pockets and arrange it all on a table and throw out anything that’s useless and then wash their jacket and then after it’s clean put everything back in the pockets and feel satisfied about all the excellent objects they have in their pockets and how well organized it all is. They don’t want anyone to look at them. They don't want to talk to Fiver, especially today, when thoughts that usually stay locked in the back of their mind have been so quick to claw their way to the surface.

[ashenberry]

the shit mgsv and to a lesser extent pw did to the implications of the first 4 games in retrospect is soooooo fucking funny to me actually. mgs2 ocelot put liquids arm on his after losing it. sillay. mgs4 ocelot was lying actually its just an advanced prosthetic. nanomachines. lame. mgsv in a world where advanced cybernetic prosthetic arms have existed since the mid 70s ocelot instead opted to pretend he took some dead british guys arm to further sell the being possessed by a ghost bit he was pushing so he could stop information control. sillay again

[summertimemusician]

Sleep Deprived Linked Universe Au concept that I think could be neat, everything is the same but the Chain or a Chain Member (Wild, Sky or otherwise) is like the Sky Children/Moths in Sky Children of the Light. Or where we drop one of the children of light or a moth with the Chain as a substitute for therapy which I really think they could use.

Or secondary Sleep Deprived LoZ/LU Au concept: everything is the same, but either one of the Chain members is like the Vessels in HK, or we straight up drop the Pure Vessel in BOTW when Link/Wild emerges from his 100 year power nap (goodness I wish that were me) after having his brain scrambled like an omelette and they and Link unwittingly imprint on each other and adopt one another as found family, which helps them deal with their respective traumas, bonus points if Wolfie/Twilight/TP Link is also there and unwittingly part of the found family, and if it bleeds over into LU the Chain has to suddenly cope with the fact this eldritch bug being from another world entirely meant to be a vessel for a maddened deity basically adopted one o their own as a sibling. Could also somehow throw Ghost or Hornet in there later on.

I will not elaborate further.

[talentforlying]

constantine: i don't have a job, occult detecting doesn't count also constantine, every halloween: well, i guess it's time to punch in. don't talk to me i'm on the clock. racking up that overtime tonight

[creatively-cosmic]

im eating your interpretation of boss cacao /silly /pos

gehehe.. thank youu

[steviescrystals]

i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)

[roseytherat]

It’s a little overdo but I wanted to make an appreciation post for Buzzfeed Unsolved/ Watcher and Ryan and Shane in general. I started watching BFU on a whim when I was in the worst part of my depression and I needed something to watch when I randomly saw some fanart on Pinterest and decided to watch it. The latest episode out at that time was the one about Cynthia Anderson and it was the first thing to make me laugh in a long time so I kept watching and ran my way through the series essentially self-medicating as long as I needed. And after Buzzfeed Unsolved it was Are You Scared and then Puppet History and so on. I love everything these two men have worked on and whatever they do is amazing. Ryan is so passionate and he believes in what me makes and he always puts his best into what he does. And Shane is wildly creative and fills his series with the best winks and nods and underlying mysteries and hones his craft each time. They’re both just the best.The funniest thing it that these two random goofballs saved my life. Anyway I’m back at school tomorrow which fuckin sucks so… 🔪👻

…Enjoy this old embarrassing art from when I fist started watching the show

:3

[manon-de]

undefined

[snailfen]

still insane over the gsc/hgss rendition of lavender towns theme btw

[flamingredanon]

I have a question about "Spread your wings and fly". Reginald calls Randy "papa" in it, is Randy his biological father or do vampires have a family-esque hierarchy?

Randy and Terrence adopted Reginald when he was a child, the two of them finding the young boy abandoned in an alleyway and on the brink of death due to snowstorm, with Randy being the one to turn Reg to save his life.

Randy is a pure blooded vampire, born from the union between Sir Wilford IV and his (currently unamed) wife who didn't make it, with Terrence being his human husband that was turned by Randy after a bad run in with Grigori.

I haven't really thought too much into stuff like heirs for the Vampire Trio AU, I do have it that Jaques Kensington had to give up the throne because the vampire turned himself into a ghost due to a potion experiment, with Billy G taking the chance to lay claim to the throne before eventually being slain by Wilford in a call to action against his younger brother.