#remna

[gallade-x-treme]

Let it never be said that World Flipper is not-- or was not-- a Goated Gacha Game.

[elizabethnna]

REMNA Hampers • Mini Prayer mat • Nastar Burger • Cashew Choco Ball • Clear crystal cup • Marble cake • Roasted nut & seeds in an air tight jar • Turkish choco truffle in an air tight jar Further details : WA 1 : 08112355800 WA 2 : 081380283975 ⁣ ⁣ ⁣ ⁣ ⁣ ⁣ ⁣ ⁣ ⁣ #idulfitri #lebaran2023 #hampersidulfitri #hampers #hamper #hamperslebaran #ramadhan #eid #eidmubarak #hamperlebaran #kue #kuekering #kuelebaran #remna #medjool #mtqlalebaran #hamperslebaran2023 #nastar #nastarburger #cake #bolu #lapislegit #lapislegitpremium #medjoolcake #hamperspremium #corporatehampers #mtqlahampers https://www.instagram.com/p/Cqak34wh3Tl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[quariumarts]

Artificial Fairy, Remna.

DnD character design.

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 5 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10

AN: for those who care - my essay is half done and hours overdue <3 Anyway ...here have some angst x

Synopsis: You are captured during a mission and tortured. A certain lieutenant is the only thing on your mind as you struggle at the hands of your captors. Word count: 794 Warnings: Canon typical violence, graphic torture, non-consensual touch, blood etc. Some shit might not be canon compliant. Ghost x gn!Reader: Angsty as fuckkkk. Lots of hurt and little comfort (yet).

* ˚ ✦

There wouldn’t be tea for you tonight. The camomile teabags you kept in the spare pocket of your tactical vest had been ripped out and strewn across the concrete floor of the warehouse. Amongst other things, of course, but standard issue military gear was less important to you. The tea reminded you of warmth, comfort, safety and him. 

The tea reminded you of him. 

It was him you thought of as they strung you up like a carcass in an abattoir. It was him you thought of as they held you under that freezing water. His eyes you saw when you closed your eyes, the cobalt blue fading each time you were shocked awake. 

Your family would be ok without you. They’d done it for years. But him. Who would look after him? Soap and Gas would. Price too. But they drank coffee, not tea. Who would be there in the early hours of the morning when he stumbled into the kitchen in an insomnia filled haze? Who would buy him camomile and restock the tin on his shelf when he forgot? 

You’ve stopped flinching when the door slams; stopped tugging at the restraints. When a tattooed hand wraps around the hair at the nape of your neck and pulls you don’t struggle. 

Grey eyes rake over your body, a cigarette hangs from his mouth. Makarov. 

It’s taken the task force months and months to even gather a wisp of information on the man in front of you. And here he is; so close his breath fans across your face. The fresh cuts and welts sting is a cloud of cigarette smoke is blown ion your direction.

“Ah, дорогая,” He lets out a harsh laugh as you cough, “look at you.”

You fix your eyes on the wall over his shoulder. His hand clamps around your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. 

“So defiant,” he whispers, nose millimetres away from yours. Spittle hits your cheek; your skin crawls. 

He lets go, a brief moment of respite before stars flash and pain blooms across your cheek. His rings catching chunks of your skin as he backhands you across the face. He scoffs as you swing limply from your chains, head hanging low with your chin to your chest.

“You know,” he walks slowly around you, cigarette dangling from his fingers as he speaks, “I don’t think you’re going to talk. Are you дорогая?”

Your heavy lidded gaze remains on the concrete floor. 

“Ready to die for the cause are you?” The cool barrel of a handgun comes to rest against your forehead. “This is your last chance. Talk.”

A beat. The safety clicks.

“Talk!”

You shut your eyes. Metal crunches. The trigger is pulled with a clack. 

Your eyes flutter open, confused. Makarov grins back at you.

“You might not talk, дорогая,” his hand snakes back up to your jaw, gentle this time. A caress, “but you can send a message.”

His hand trails down your chest, cigarette still between his middle and index fingers. He stops over your heart, pressing the butt to your skin. His eyes never leave yours. Watching as your eyes water against your will; as your jaw pops, clenching to hold back a scream. The smell of burnt flesh wafts up. You gag.

He draws away. Tossing the shrivelled butt to the ground. He doesn’t stomp on it, he doesn’t need to. The last embers still burn your skin. 

˚ ✦

It takes you hours to notice the guards haven’t returned. It doesn’t matter anyway. You are too weak to move. He’s left you for dead. 

You’ve fallen into delirium. There’s no point in resisting it now. The wisps and figures that dance around you are a welcome distraction from the remnants of Makarov’s torture. He’s there again. Cobalt eyes and pale hair. Wouldn’t it be nice if he was here? Maybe he’d pick up your camomile from the ground, dust it off and tuck it into his own vest.  Or maybe he’d take pity on your in your last moments and pull you into his arms. 

It’s been a while since you’ve been hugged. 

The end is near. Ghosts and spectres have begun to materialise. Are they here to lead you away? Guide you to whatever comes next? Their arms wrap around you, gentle but firm. They unhook you from the ceiling and unwind the chains which rattle against the concrete beneath you. 

How kind of them to let you pass on with dignity. 

His eyes flicker before you.

It’s so nice for your memory to allow you to see them one last time.

One. Last. Time.

------

Masterlist

Next Part:

[inkformyblood]

a picture is worth a thousand words (CWFKB #20)

drunken kiss for @codywanfirstkissbingo modern au, previous night of drinking

Obi-Wan shudders awake on a groan, half-opening an eye and regretting it at the same moment. There’s light somewhere to his left, a dull hazy red that spills over the wall opposite him, and he presses his face back into the cushion imprinted onto his skin. He hopes it is a nice enough pattern and that is the extent he is able to care about it at that moment. He shifts slightly, shoving his hand beneath his hip to pull out his phone. Opening his eye again, he flinches away from the bright glare of his screen, swiping at the controls to try and lower it. 

Second attempt goes easier, the pounding in his head lessening a scant amount and he’s able to make out the time (being far too early for this), his string of notifications (mostly responses in various group chats and nothing that raises an alarm), and an update from his back account (far too early for that). This is not his apartment. He doesn’t have curtains, yet another thing that fell too far down his to-do list for him to have bothered with, and they’re surprisingly nice to have. He’ll have to get round to it. Tomorrow. Later. 

He needs to piss. 

That means moving. 

Obi-Wan levers himself upright like he is trying to move the universe, shoving his hands beneath his face and pushing sideways more than upright. He hits the floor hard, feeling the impact a moment later, and he bites his tongue until he tastes copper beneath the bile twisting through his stomach. Looking around, Obi-Wan’s gaze skims over the empty sitting room, the pull-out couch he had just fallen from and the complementary armchair. There is a bookcase along one wall andObi-Wan twitches through an itch of curiosity at the base of his skull, the desire to drag his fingertips along the spines and try to work out something of the person who’s home he has invaded. But first, he needs to find a bathroom. One door is through the attached kitchen, another piece of the constructed puzzle slotting into place at the sight of matching appliances, so Obi-Wan ignores it, turning his attention to the other doors that stand through the wide archway. He rises onto his toes as he steps onto the wood floor, a chill rattling up his spine and feeling like it will knock his teeth loose, and begins to search. The first door is a study, but the second reveals a bathroom and Obi-Wan steps inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

He flicks through his phone through half-lidded eyes, ignoring the pulse of group chats recovering from the previous night, and going for his photos instead. Most are useless, blurry snaps of lights and people that Obi-Wan has worked alongside for years and yet he couldn’t pick out their features now, but it is the most recent set that makes Obi-Wan wake up in an instant. 

Cody Fett. He is kissing Cody Fett in full blue and pink and green club light lit focus. And he can’t remember it. 

Not a single kiss out of the several he’s photographed. 

Obi-Wan steadies himself, resting the phone on the side of the sink as he washes his hands, moving through the motions as he returns to the sitting room. He sinks back onto the sofa bed, wriggling to try and get himself comfortable before he dives back into his camera roll. Water thunders through the pipes and he straightens, feeling like he has been dragged in front of the principal’s office, waiting to be told what he has done wrong. He has woken up in other people’s beds before, made several questionable decisions on unofficial work night’s out and a handful on the official work night’s out, but this feels different. There is a weight to this decision because he actually likes Cody. 

Obi-Wan thinks he loves him. 

One photo of drinks, enough to turn Obi-Wan’s stomach even now, then a picture of himself and Cody together. Obi-Wan studies his own face, the grin that distorts the freckle beneath his eye, his cheeks clinging to the remnants of glitter, before he turns his gaze to Cody. Cody looks beautiful, always does, and his eyeliner gleams in the light cutting across their faces on the photograph. His grin is wide, easy to love, and he leans towards Obi-Wan in the photo, his head inclined so there’s barely any visible space between them. There’s some time between that photo and the next one and Obi-Wan’s memory stretches blank and all encompassing. They must have discussed something during that missing blank space, something that had led to the next photo. Obi-Wan flicks to the next photo. It is slightly blurry, his hand must have moved while he was taking it, but he is kissing Cody. 

“Oh, good. You’re still here.”

Obi-Wan starts, his phone dropping from numb fingers to somewhere amongst the nest of blankets. Cody waves at him, leaning against the doorframe. His chest is bare, a splash of a dark tattoo over one shoulder and curling over his chest, and his patterned trousers sit low on his hips. His socks are mismatched and Obi-Wan hadn’t thought it was possible to love him anymore before that moment. 

“I can leave if you’d like me to?”

“No.” Cody steps forward, clasping his hands in front of him. He worries the heavy ring he wears on his thumb, chewing his cheek before he continues. “How much do you remember of last night?”

Obi-Wan smiles through the wash of fear that floods through him, feels it draw his smile tight and artificial. “If I made you uncomfortable, I apologise. I never wished to—”

“I’d like to kiss you again,” Cody blurts out. His hands still on his ring and he takes another step forward. His legs press against the edge of the sofa bed. “Properly this time so we can both remember it properly.”

Obi-Wan holds out his hand and pulls Cody down onto the bed with him. They would both remember that morning well enough to make up for the night before. 

[gender-goth]

REMNAGENDER

a gender that feels like remnant from FNAF! this can be described as a gender that has died, and is being possessed by remnant to keep it alive.

Suggested Pronouns?

remna/remnant, possess/possessed, hau/haunt or haunt/haunts, para/paranormal, dead/deads or dead/death, death/deaths, ghost/ghosts, soul/souls, energy/energys, dece/deceased, immortal/immortals, metal/metals, melt/melts

[crushculture03]

The First Meeting

See Masterlist for warnings

Chp 3 of ‘About you’

Gifs aren’t mine all credit goes to the og creators

Summer 1999

Bobby Singer didn't like visitors, it was well known he really didn't like people in general, well besides his daughter Valerie, who was the only one who could make that grumpy man smile.

The morning of June 2nd loud banging woke both Bobby and Valerie. Bobby pulled his pistol out as he slowly approached the door, "Who the hell is it!" he yells. "It's John, Bobby, '' a voice says. Bobby groans and puts his gun away, opening the door to reveal the Winchester boys. "What John '' Bobby says, clearly not happy to see his friend. "I gotta go on some hunts but can't take the boys, can you watch them while I'm away? '' John asks, and motions to the two teen boys standing next to him.

Bobby sighs and looks at the boys, "Fine, but you owe me big time Winchester '' he grumbles, "Come on boys' ' he says and steps aside so they can walk into the house. "Thanks Singer I appreciate it, bye boys be good" John says, before walking back to his car and speeding off.

Bobby closes the door and looks at the boys, "Sam, Dean wow you two have grown, how old are ya again?" he asks, "I'm 18 and Sammy's 16" Dean says. "Ok, well Sam you're the same age as Valerie'' Bobby says, "Val get down here there's someone I want you to meet!" her father shouts up the stairs.

Sam swears he felt his heart skip a beat when a young blonde girl came down the stairs. "Val, meet Sam and Dean Winchester, Winchesters Meet my daughter Valerie," he says, introducing the teens. "Hi" she says sheepishly, "Hey," the boys say in unison. "Val they're going to be staying with us all summer, can you show them to their room? '' he asks, "Of course" she smiles and motions for the boys to follow her.

The three teens made their way upstairs, "So um this will be your guy's room, there are two beds here, and my rooms down the hall, the bathroom is the last door on the right" She said. Dean walks into the room, throwing his duffel bag on one of the beds, while Sam stays in the hallway next to her. "Thanks, Valerie" he mumbles, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment, he's never been good at talking to girls. "You can call me Val, Sam" she smiles, he nods his head in response before walking into the room. "I'll let you guys get settled in, I'll be in my room if you need me, '' she says before walking down the hall to her room.

"Sammy has a crush" Dean teases his brother, "I do not!" Sam defends himself, even though his deep red cheeks give away his lie. "You better be careful, she's Bobbys daughter and you don't wanna be on his bad side" his older brother warns "But I say go for it Sam, maybe you'll finally get some" he teases before falling back on the old bed. "Thanks, Dean" he mumbles, before putting his bag down on the other bed. "I'm gonna go walk around" Sam says, his brother waves him off before closing his eyes, taking a nap.

Sam walks down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of her door, he nervously knocks on her door. Val opens the door, now out of her pajamas and into actual clothes, "Hey Sam everything ok?" she asks, "Yeah I was just wondering if maybe you'd be able to show me around the property, if-if you're not busy" he stumbles on his words a bit. "Of course" she says, Val couldn't help the butterflies that flew around her stomach when she looked at him.

He steps aside so she can follow her, she walks past him and down the stairs, he follows her. "Well let me show you my favorite place to go, my dad built it when I was a kid and my mom was still around" she leads him outside, the two walking in comfortable silence until they reach a run down tree house. "I know it looks old but it's safe I promise" she says as she climbs the stairs and motions for him to follow her. He follows after her and takes in his surroundings, the tree house was old and worn down but there were two bean bags in there and the remnants of smoked joints and empty beer bottles.

"Wow you're a bit of a rebel aren't you? '' he jokes as he sits down on one of the beaten up bean bag chairs. "It helps ease the pain of some of the stuff I see on hunts and everything, it's nice to get away from it all" she says as she takes a seat next to him.  "I understand that, so Bobby forces you to hunt like my dad does," he asks. "No, he did train me but doesn't force me to go on hunts if I don't want to, I'm sorry your dad does, he sounds like an asshole" she says, which causes Sam to let out a laugh, "you're not wrong about that" he responds.

"Do you plan on hunting when you turn 18, or do you wanna do something else?" she asks, "Well I hope to go to college, I know my dad won't be happy but I don't care, he's controlled too much of my life already" Sam responds. "I hope you get that life" she says, looking over at him and smiling, "Thanks" he responds.

Present Day

"Whatcha thinking about Val" Sam asks, snapping the girl out of her daze. "Just thinking about the summer we met, I remember us sitting in my tree house talking about the future, I'm glad you got your dream" she says before going back to looking out the window watching the scenery go by. "Aw day dreaming about Sammy aren't you" Dean teases from the driver seat, she kicks his seat "Shut up" she snaps. "Hey be careful in my baby you better not have scratched the seats" Dean lectures, "yes sir" she says, saluting him in a teasing way. The three still had a long way to go, not only miles wise, but also in the hunt to find John Winchester.

[unearthlyfromage]

The Costs of Our Hubris; Chapter 3 "Bones and Skin" Out Now!

Shoutout to @trangenderstan, my co-visionist and who I owe this entire thing too, really. This AU wouldn't be the way it is today if it weren't for him.

Read it on AO3 here

Or read it below the cut!

Skittering up buildings and slinking through the shadows of alleyways, an intense gaze peered through every gap and crack of old sturdy walls. He was stalking for another one in a derelict market, a cesspool, a melting pot of neighboring planets all outpouring resources to sell for the highest bidder.

The place reeked of alien meats and vegetables and cheap jewelry, he could smell it all through the large gap between his closed jaws. The closest Stan would ever get to closing his mouth for his teeth were in the way.

All for naught, Stan was beginning to realize, as he couldn’t see nor taste any filth in the surrounding area. There was no stench of guilt or pen ink, nor any wild brown hair or large cloaked humans. He’d been at this for months, yet he’d only snuffed out a few dozen of those six-fingered bastards. They’re getting smarter.

Scoffing in disgust at the wasted time, he turned his direction forward from his hiding. He made his form known to the crowds, a curled and twisted figure standing taller among most as he approached the wall of living beings, watching them all part and scramble in fear the moment his clawed and deformed feet disturbed the chaotic river they’d amassed.

Glaring at them all with disinterest and disgust he paid no mind to their frantic chattering in hushed cowering tones, the shining sigil of Cipher on his clothes reminding them to stay away should they have a single coherent thought.

Stopping at a rarities stall, his neck snapped to the cowering shopkeep, the many-eyed man low and away from his table. Sneering at him, he turned and slammed his hands on the rickety old wood, claws tearing deep marks in the grain as he leaned in close.

“I want that.” He growled, pointing to a golden 8 Ball. Gulping down the heart in his throat, the man tore his eyes away from Stan to glance at it, though it wasn’t any longer than a split second, that’s usually all it took.

“F-Fifty, for that.” He stuttered, slowly holding his many hands up to try and calm him. Growling, he reached out to grasp his clothes, dragging him up and through the gap in the table to slam him against the post. Stan got close to his face as the shopkeep yelled in his panic, every inch of him trembling. “Yer payment is your life. Fairtrade?” He grins, and the man nods as he laughs airlessly, gasping and choking on his breath as Stan drops him.

Expression fading to a sneer he watched him scramble back into his hut of a pop-up to grab the ball, setting it down and thanking him profusely. Taking them Stan quickly moved on, stopping to shake it and watch the liquid slosh around, chuckling at the simple Maybe?’ it gave in response. Surely he’d like another one, especially one as shiny as this.

Stuffing it in his bag as he continued forward, ripping into and scavenging every shop of interest until he had about ten or twelve little trinkets of varying shapes sizes, and origins.

Without any other needs, he lumbered to an open rift and crawled through it, leaving a ravaged and panicked market behind him.

It took him a small while of random rift portals to reach where he wanted to pray.

This world was a cold and empty one that he knew well, a scrapyard for abandoned aircraft on a planet doomed to rot uninhabited thanks to the radiation. He liked to stay here often, his own home away from home. Digging his claws in titanium hulls to drag himself up and through the refuse, he stood on top of the hulking carrier to scan the skyline to find his spot.

The rotting and rusting materials underneath his marred and mangled feet groaned and cracked under his weight. He was gone by the time it would’ve caved, jumping and lurching from crash to crash steadily ascending a monstrous mountain, one of the last remnants of the actual ground beneath the refuse, sometimes weaving his way through openings and through ship to ship in a practiced rat crawl to reach his favorite piece of garbage to rest in.

Feet digging into the flesh of the ship that peeked over a cliffside, he swung back and forth to build his momentum before letting go and grabbing at the edge of a spacecraft so high up and embedded in the mountainside he was in line with the mint green clouds. Sighing in contentment as he pushed himself up into his ‘house’, he walked in and smoothed a blackened hand over the cold walls, humming happily.

He meandered his way through, passing by old and desecrated corpses of all manner of beings. Bounty hunters, mostly. People that would come here to try and find him, and the unlucky bastards that did would never leave this derelict planet. All of his most enjoyable chases happened here, times where he’d bob and weave on the ceilings and walls snatching them from above when they’d least expect it, mimicking the sounds of their comrades when all was quiet and dark to watch them get closer before finally realizing something was off, always far too late. His favorite chase was a unique circumstance, one had gotten away. It was the one he wanted the most.

He knows for a fact that six-digited rat will never forget him, even if he did squeak away by the skin of his teeth. He had him by the neck, to the wall, he could feel his heartbeat in the pads of his fingers as he squeezed. If only the rest of his crew were dead, he would’ve gotten everything he wanted out of that rush.

Turning a corner he walked ever deeper into the ship, the further any natural rays of light became the more the walls began to glow, Stan had long since coated the place in bioluminescent plant matter. Be it sap from the planet's weird and warped trees or the various other plant life still surviving on a planet so irradiated. He could see in the dark, but lighting it up made it feel more.. homely, in a way.

Eventually, the metal walls gave way into rock-hard dirt, Stan having hollowed out a cave for praying in. Setting his bag down on a pile of bones, he began to carve new symbols to join the countless others that littered the walls and ceiling, whispering an incantation he knew better than English at this point. The sound echoed and warbled around the room, he didn’t stop etching symbols until he ran out of room, collapsing in the center on a carving of his God as his chanting grew in intensity.

His eyes rolled into the back of his skull as he belted what sounded like gibberish to anyone who didn’t understand. His body contorted as his limbs stretched out, yelling love and devotion for his creator as the bones shook and tremored, begging to come home, pleading for his aid in ode Stan's words garbling through coughs as he hacked up a black, viscous liquid, pooling and squirming and bubbling as the bones raised gently in the air.

Spiraling into a circle on the wall, the liquid burning a trail upwards to stretch and fill the void within, a spark of light bursting from the middle as orange light cracked the black tar and spider webbed outward, shards falling to reveal a portal of bleeding intense colors, the orange and red hues of his true home basking him in its light as Stan finally slowed to a silence, sitting there to sunbathe in the impossible dry warmth emanating from the rift.

Getting his fill, he rose to stand and lumbered over to the bag, grabbing it with a trembling hand as he turned to walk inside, the rift fizzling and shorting out soon after.

The room fell back into its desolation, the bones falling to the floor with hollow thumps, some dry enough to crack and shatter.

~~

They had lost yet another one.

A horrible crime scene awaited the small party of five that descended from the ship to do a welfare check on one of their researchers, a Ford tasked with collecting sap samples for adhesives in their projects.

Standing there in the quiet one-man research station, the red smears along the clawed-up walls and floors and ceilings growing thicker around the site of the body made a chill run down his spine.

The scene was quiet, and anything but serene. Walking through it was a tense dread he would never get used to. The lights along the walls buzzed and flickered, still dull and dim from within. It was a stark contrast to the frantic, clawed-open hole in the side of the building. The odd and colorful forest outside is a stark contrast to the grim murder within. Purple trees have grown into woven patterns and spiraled upwards topped with teal and cerulean leaves, samples this Ford had dedicated his past year to studying. Turning to look down the hall at the lumps of torn-up human meat sprawled on the floor, lifeless and red, he couldn’t help but call that year a wasted effort.

The place was haunting. The conical dome shape of the main room was left marginally untouched by the carnage. There was no struggle, Origin would call it vandalism more than anything else. Destroying books and carving symbols and runes into the walls - incantations that needed further research. Raising the camera with limp hands he took photos, the others doing the same in the other rooms. The only footprints - if he could call them that, the claw markings looked more like hands or a bird’s talons than anything else - were ones leading outside. So either this thing cleaned up and returned to ruin the place, or it had done it before killing him. It's unlikely, given it was clear this one hadn’t even taken his gun out.

It was a growing addition to this creature's Modus Operandi. Rarely, if ever, does the victim get a chance to react past realizing what’s happening to him. Staring despondently at the footprints, he leaned his nose against the dull red fabric wrapped around his neck, eyes narrowing.

“It came in from up there.” One of the members of the small five-person crime scene analysis group piped up, a Stan, one of the very few they have on deck that likes to get more involved. Turning to face him and up at the open AC vent, he hums in acknowledgment.

“Didn’t notice that before. Good eye.” He walked closer to the center of the dome, looking up to peer through as much of the vent as was visible. Dents and claw marks are vaguely highlighted by the small lights dotting the ceiling. It seemed big enough for a person to fit through if they were fine with confined spaces and didn’t have too much mass.

Judging by how the insides looked twisted and bent outwards, he’d guess one of those things wasn’t quite the case.

The Stan, Jellyfish they call him - a comedic nickname that didn’t fit the tall imposing figure, face set hard. “I think we should cut our losses and get out, just in case it comes back anytime soon.” The man wanted to get out of here just as much as Origin did, and he couldn’t blame the want.

Walking along the destruction, nothing was done for a strict purpose. The crunching of glass under his boots and the breeze against his back from the open hole were sensations he could do without. Looking up again at the vent, paranoid more than anything else, he noticed the steady red flashing of the base’s security system. “We could try the cameras?” He turned to look at Jelly and the others he’d been talking to.

Glancing at Origin, he hummed. “They’re always corrupted. So says R, at least.” He turned his gaze to them now, eyes staring squinting in scrutiny at the idea. “Unless these have audio, it wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

Cursing under his breath, he shook his head. “Go grab the feed.” He demands with some air of leadership or power, digging his hands in his pockets. “I have a feeling about this. If it’s a wasted effort we’ll call this one inconclusive just like all the others, and never come back. How is that?”

He could hear Jelly scoff and walk away without another word, but Origin wasn’t looking at him, instead analyzing the disfigured handprint on the wall. The outline of something that was once human, if the shape was anything to go by.

It burned a pit in his stomach, gulping uneasily. His face stayed hardened and expressionless, but he couldn’t stop the uneasy sensation in his gut, the broiling and rolling feeling of discomfort that clawed its way up his throat and made a home in his skull. These scenes made him feel nostalgic, in ways he could never place and didn’t want to think about.

Instead, he turned heel and walked towards the body, arms wrenched tight to his back as he looked down at the mangled figure of himself. The smell was pungent, and the first thing to hit him, but beyond that was the damage done. Torn open and vivisected violently, face torn up and disfigured, the hands were missing. All of these deaths were so personal, so angry, and targeted.

He had a horrible feeling for what or who this could be, and what its intentions would be.

“We have the footage,” he could hear Jelly say somewhere beyond the hall, “we should be going. The people from the medical wing said they would bury the body. Come on boss.” Origin's face tightened at the nickname. He wasn’t his boss, not traditionally at least. He held domain over the prison cells and nothing more.

“I’m not your employer. Don’t call me that.” He leaves the body behind, his navy trenchcoat stained purplish at the ends thanks to the still-drying puddle surrounding the body.

Leaving three of them down on the planet for burial left a foul taste in Origin's mouth, they still didn’t know for certain whether or not this monster was gone. Though if it was still lurking, he had high doubts it would’ve let them romp around inside taking samples and photos and analysis of the crimes.

They sat in silence, waiting for the pod to dock in place and once it had, they gave each other a stiff nod and headed for the hull, their voices chattering in various conversations. It took a while to get used to being surrounded by himself, even if none of these cosmic clones were exactly like him.

Staring up at the large, wide robotic figure standing in the center of the steering column, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “I hope you’re done spending quality time with the ship, I require your assistance if you don't mind.”

At first, there was no response. But he knew damn well R heard him. He heard everything in this ship, he WAS this ship… at least in part, when he was docked and controlling it. A synthesized sigh left the robot, relaxing from his stiffened ram rod pose to turn and face him, the only indication that he was looking at him was two LED orbs flashed up on the panel of his face.

“Yes?” his tone was bored, the deep mechanical imitation of a man's voice as he descended the steps and stood opposite him, staring down at him in a cold foreboding manner.

“I need you to watch this footage and tell us what you find.” Origin showed off the small drive, and while R gave no verbal response, he stretched out a metal six-digit hand in emphasis for him to hand it over. “If this is another disappointment, I will refuse to watch anything else you give me.”

“I assure you, this one has promise.” Huffing, the metal man pushed aside synthetic hair to plug it into an empty slot at the base of his neck, staring down at the floor. “Fine. Then you will watch it with me.”

The cameras behind his LED screen, the closest one could compare to eyes, lit up and cast a projection on the metal floor of the ship. Standing up straighter, he tinkered with the opacity and volume, before allowing it to play. Keeping his distance from R, he watched as the researcher, a Ford that hadn’t chosen a unique nickname for himself - most that opt to research off ship didn’t bother - sat there writing down his report for the day.

He remembered that being their first tip something was wrong. They always reported something every day, even if it was just a personal status report. A confirmation they were still alive.

It was normal, for the day-to-day of a research base, and R fast-forwarded until something changed. Stopping at the small squeak of the vent grate opening, Origin was surprised it did have sound.

He leaned in to try and look at what emerged, but it was the same thing it always was. A distorted and fizzling, popping black shape. Stray particulates fade away and ooze off the footage itself.

They weren't quite sure why it was this mass of particles, like a burning singe in an old reel, creating negative space. But they knew it wasn't normal. R had equated it to radiation particles, and seeing it in motion Origin was inclined to agree.

It watched him, whatever it was, and waited for him to get up and walk out. Now alone the thing chuckled to itself, a low and distorted gruff sound that was hauntingly human. It sounded almost familiar, which served to unnerve all the more.

Watching further, it skittered down the wall like a spider, waiting over the doorway for him before finally choosing to strike, jumping him and goring him in the hallway. The sounds of his screams and this things distorted laughter were loud, loud enough for Origin to cringe and press his face into the old fabric of his scarf, closing his eyes. R was kind enough to pause it immediately, rewinding to play the laugh again.

“Something familiar, in that laugh.” He mumbles and stops sharing to play around with it, distorting it further until he plays it again.

Through the static and distortion, the altered and squealing of his screaming and the contorted squishing and ripping, the noise made the baby hairs at the nape of Origin's neck stand on end, there was a sound objectively scarier.

It was once warm and inviting, a comforting hug in verbal form. A sound of nostalgia and sleepless nights together as children. A familiar and frequent sound among the ship's walls. Though it was mangled and bastardized, wrong and distorted, it was unmistakable. It's that gruff, loud bark of a laugh.

Stanley.

[fatehbaz]

“It’s calling right beside me but, there’s absolutely no sign of it!” said celebrated birdsong recordist John Kendrick in 1984. He was straining to see a South Island Kōkako (Callaeas cinereus), a wattlebird endemic to Aotearoa (New Zealand), with a last recognized sighting in 1967. In 2021, a group [...] picked up flute-y tolls characteristic of this “Grey Ghost.” Even so, this did not convince scientific authorities that a bird existed. [...] The South Island Kōkako Trust, currently offering NZ$10,000 for confirming evidence of an alive Kōkako, also stresses photographs, video, and/or visible relics [...]. Privileging eye over ear, along with a materialistic gaze, in searches for last members of a species, enacts an epistemic violence that finalizes extinction [...]. These objectifying terms sound different than Māori whakapapa (genealogy) -- relating visible and invisible beings -- announced in the Te Ao Tūroa (Māori Natural History Gallery) in Auckland. [...]

Similar searches, sponsored by Pākehā (a New Zealander of European descent) institutions, took place in the early twentieth century for a close relation of Kōkako -- for vanishing Huia (Heteralocha acutirostris). The Eurocentric vanishing narrative also extends to peoples racialized and oppressed as non-white. In the nineteenth century, Pākehā ornithologist Walter Buller projected that the extinction of both the declining Huia and the “Māori race” would occur between 1884 and 1909. In 1922, Te Rangi Hiroa (Peter Henry Buck, Ngāti Mutunga, Irish-English), however, underscored a pēpeha (ancestral saying): “We will never be lost, for we spring from the Sacred Seed, which was sown from Rangiātea.” Contrary to an official narrative, many convincing reports indicated Huia were still living then.

---

This Anglo-colonialist Huia story could not be innocent of genocidal taint. In 1923, England-born J. G. Myers, a New Zealand Department of Agriculture scientist, looked back and published a final Huia date: 28 December 1907. This marked “the last specimens . . . actually seen” by a trustworthy witness -- fellow ornithological society member, Scotland-born W. W. Smith. Also on 26 September 1907, New Zealanders had declared a semi-independent dominion within the British Empire, no longer their colony. [...] Implicitly, 1907 links this symbolic rise of localized power with the demise of Huia, known to be Māori taonga (treasures) linked with Māori mana (prestige). Repeating the original Myers-Smith Huia claim republished in a 1928 Evening Post article and thereafter cited in a succession of natural histories, the extinction narrative continues to resonate with a system disrupting Indigenous sovereignty, ecology, and ontology. [...]

Meanwhile, between 1890 and 1910, note historians Carl Bradley and Rhys Ball, Māori “dual traditions of reform and protest . . . crystallised” against colonialism’s forced disconnections from lands, language, culture, and identity. Māori development expert Margaret Forster (Rongomaiwahine, Ngāti Kahungunu) stresses how the plural voice of Māori in various politics of resistance and cultural and ecological recovery “has never been silent.” Beyond the 1907 signposts, many voices, never silent, also call for listening. In 1909, Māori knowledge-holder Henare Hamana (Ngāti Awa, English) accompanied a Huia-search expedition organized by Dominion Museum-affiliated scientists. On this trip, imitating Huia calls, Hamana attracted at least one male bird. Hamana’s breath, whistling Huia-like phrases, continues to echo from a 1948 recording [...].

---

Two recently composed waiata (songs) integrate this Hamana-Huia audio. In “Tohu maumahara mō ērā kua hinga Memorial to the Fallen” in Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, a waiata lamenting “the loss of the huia” animates dimly lit cases of skins, bones, and feathers beside lists of other now-invisible kin. In Pūkaha/Mount Bruce, “Waiata Manu Huia,” cultural audio by tāngata whenua (Indigenous hosts) Rangitāne, flows into this Huia-absented remnant of Te Tapere-nui-o-Wātonga (a.k.a. Seventy Mile Bush), the last substantial remainder of this vast forest of high importance to Rangitāne as well as the birds. During the nineteenth century, the New Zealand government had pressured Rangitāne to acquire the land.

In 2016, in Te Tiriti o Waitangi Treaty redress, New Zealand apologetically returned the remnant to Rangitāne. Rangitāne gifted the Pūkaha land for the “people of Aotearoa” -- encouraging engagements with them/their land in just relations, mending whakapapa (genealogy), te reo Māori (language), and kaitiakitanga (sustainability ethics). “Waiata Manu Huia” speaks of Huia, relatives, like Moa, sadly silent in this world. Yet, “forever singing in the spirit world.” Sound made by birds binds both worlds in Māori genealogy and multisensory cosmology. “Ko tātou ngā kanohi ora” (“We are the living eyes”), also say Rangitāne kaitiaki land-keepers. “Waiata Manu Huia” concludes with a traditional calling in to relation, doing and being our best together: “Whano, whano! Haramai te toki! Haumi ē! Hui ē! Tāiki ē!”

---

Text by: Julianne L. Warren and Michael Roche. “Sight and Sound: Beyond the 1907 Huia Extinction Story.” Environment & Society Portal, Arcadia (Spring 2023), no. 2. Rachel Carson Center for Environment and Society. Published online in February 2023.

[superwingshine-world]

Super Wings members some profile (remake 2023) (P1)

1. Jett:

Gender: Male

Color: Red and White

Birthday: March 23th, 2004 (Aries)

Age: 19

Affiliation: Student, Super Wings leader

Height: 175 cm

Relatives:

- Robert: father

- Jenna: mother ✝️

- Jenny: aunt

- Flip: younger brother

2. Donnie:

Gender: Male

Color: Yellow and blue

Birthday: September 23th, 2004 (Libra)

Age: 19

Affiliation: Student, mechanic

Height: 178 cm

Relatives:

- Poppa Wheels: father

- Remna: mother✝️

- Remi: older sister

- Scoop: younger brother

3. Dizzy:

Gender: Female

Color: Pink and white

Birthday: August 26th, 2004 (Virgo)

Age: 19

Affiliation: Student, rescue rider

Height: 173 cm

Relatives:

- Steven: father

- Diana: mother

- Sparky: older brother

- Blaze: older sister ✝️

- Zoey: older sister

4. Jerome:

Gender: Male

Color: Blue and yellow

Birthday: April 26th, 2004 (Taurus)

Age: 19

Affiliation: Student

Height: 179 cm

Relatives:

- Unnamed father

- Unnamed mother

- Jane: younger sister

- Jerry: younger brother

5. Paul:

Gender: Male

Color: Blue and white

Birthday: November 29th, 1986 (Sagittarius)

Age: 37

Affiliation: Police oficer

Height: 185 cm

Relatives:

- Unnamed wife ✝️

- Kim: adopted daughter

6. Mira:

Gender: Female

Color: Green

Birthday: June 27th, 2004 (Cancer)

Age: 19

Affiliation: Student

Height: 170 cm

Relatives:

- Willy: first father and uncle

- Mino: step father and biological father

- Selena: mother✝️

- Swampy: half brother

7. Bello:

Gender: Male

Color: White and black

Birthday: May 27th, 2004 (Gemini)

Age: 19 (current)

Affiliation: Student, safari expert

Height: 179 cm

Relatives: Unknown

8. Grand Albert:

Gender: Male

Color: Orange

Birthday: December 22nd, 1946 (Capricorn)

Age: 77

Affiliation: Super Wings adviser

Height: 170 cm

Relatives:

- Unknown son

- Ellie: granddaughter

9. Astra:

Gender: Female

Color: White and light blue

Birthday: January 22th, 2004 (Aquarius)

Age: 19

Affiliation: Student, astronomer

Height: 175 cm

Relatives:

- Rover: father

- Aria: mother (missing or dead)

- Astro: younger brother

10. Chase:

Gender: Male

Color: Dark blue and red

Birthday: August 5th, 2002 (Leo)

Age: 21 (current)

Affiliation: Student (formerly), spy

Height: 182 cm

Relatives: Unknown

11. Flip:

Gender: Male

Color: Red and white

Birthday: March 20th, 2005 (Pisces)

Age: 18 (current)

Affiliation: Student

Height: 169 cm

Relatives:

- Robert: father

- Jenna: mother ✝️

- Jenny: aunt

- Jett: older brother

12. Todd:

Gender: Male

Color: Brown

Birthday:

Age: 19 (current)

Affiliation: Student (formerly)

Height: 177 cm

Relatives: Unknown

[darkkirb]

x₁ mabre’a x₂ x₃ :: x₁ cu mabru x₂ fi’o remna xadni fi’e x₃ :: x₁ is an animal of species x₂ with human body x₃; x₁ is a therian of species x₂

[brookston]

Holidays 6.30

Holidays

Action Mesothelioma Day (UK)

AMC (Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita) Awareness Day

Arch 630 Day

Armed Forces Day (Guatemala)

Artichoke Day (French Republic Day)

Blink 182 Day

Burning of the Three Fires (France)

Circus Comes To Town Day

Common Rock Rose Day (A.k.a. Yellow Cistus)

Day of the Virtual Friend

Day of Youth and Children’s Public Organizations (Ukraine)

Dia del Ejercito (a.k.a. Army Day; Guatemala)

Disabled Veterans Day

Don’t Sing in the Shower Day

Do the Right Thing Day

Economist Day (Belarus)

Fandronna (Madagascar)

Federalisation Day (Abeldane Empire)

Festival of Ass-Kissing

Flag Day (Bahamas, Portugal, Tanzania)

General Prayer Day (Central African Republic)

Gone With the Wind Day

Guiding Light Day

International Aquatic Maintenance Day

International Asteroid Day (UN)

International Day of Parliamentarism

International Sailor Moon Day

International Sperm Count Decline Awareness Day

lawyer’s Day (Kyrgyzstan)

Leap Second Adjustment Day

Lovers’ Day (Azerbaijan)

Meteor Watch Day (a.k.a. National Meteor Day)

National Blink-182 Day [182nd Day of the Year]

National Corvette Day

National ESIGN Day

National Girls in Automotive Day

National OOTD Day (a.k.a. National Outfit of the Day Day)

National Safer Workplace Day

National Water Gun Fight Day

Navy Day (Israel)

NOW Day (a.k.a. National Organization for Women Day)

Philippine-Spanish Friendship Day (Philippines)

Prayer Day (Central African Republic)

Pridie Kalendas July (Traditional citizen committee voting day; Ancient Rome)

Queer Youth of Faith Day

Rabbit Rabbit Day [Last Day of Every Month]

Remna Ni (Mizoram, India)

Revolution Day (Guatemala)

Social Media Day

Teacher’s Day (Dominican Republic)

Tech Support Appreciation Day

Thomas Sowell Day

Tungaska Meteor Day

World Pneumothorax Day

youth and Students’ Day (Belarus)

Food & Drink Celebrations

California Avocado Day

National Ice Cream Soda Day

National Mai Tai Day

Independence & Related Days

Carsica (Declared; 2018) [unrecognized]

Concordia (Declared; 2021) [unrecognized]

Democratic Republic of the Congo (f.k.a. Zaire; from Belgium, 1960)

Hul Divas (Santhal Rebellion Anniversary Day Jharkhand, India;1855)

Imus Cityhood Day (Philippines)

June 30th Anniversary (Coup d’Etat; Egypt; 2013)

Revolution Day (Sudan; 1989)

Tacloban Day (Philippines)

5th & Last Sunday in June

Alexanderson Day (Sweden) [Sunday closest to 7.2]

Father’s Day (Haiti) [Last Sunday]

Independence Sunday (Iowa) [Sunday before 7.4]

Bereaved Father’s Day (UK) [Last Sunday]

Descendants Day [Last Sunday]

Gay Pride Day [Last Sunday]

Log Cabin Day (Michigan) [Last Sunday]

Mother’s Day (Kenya) [Last Sunday]

National BeActive Day (Ireland) [Last Sunday]

National Ducks and Wetlands Day [Last Sunday]

Weekly Holidays beginning June 30 (Last Day before 1st Week of July)

Eye Safety Awareness Week (thru 7.6) [Begins Last Sunday]

Helen Keller — Blind Awareness Week (thru 7.6) [Begins Last Sunday]

Wildland Firefighter Week of Remembrance (thru 7.6)

Festivals Beginning June 30, 2024

ČeSFuR (Nové Město na Moravě, Czech Republic) [thru 7.5]

Paris Jazz Festival (Paris, France) [thru 9.8]

Red, White & Blueberry Festival (Hammonton, New Jersey)

Taste of Adams Avenue (San Diego, California)

Vikingland Band Festival (Alexandria, Minnesota)

Feast Days

Aizen Buddhist Festival begins (a.k.a. Aizen Matsuri, Osaka, Japan; until July 2)

Allan Houser (Artology)

Bayard (Positivist; Saint)

Bernard of Le Mans (Christian; Saint)

Blodeuwedd (Goddess of Flowers; Celtic Book of Days)

Crab Races (Pixies, Elves, and Some Fairies; Shamanism)

Cut Through Red Tape Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Czesław Miłosz (Writerism)

Day of Aestas (Corn Goddess Summer Festival; Ancient Rome)

Day Sacred to Ceres, Changing Woman, Chicomeocoatl, the Corn Mothers, Demeter, Gaia, Ge, Hestia, Iatiku, Oraea, Pachamama, Spider Woman, and Tonantzin (Everyday Wicca)

Erentrude (Christian; Saint & Virgin)

Eris’s Day (Pagan)

First Martyrs of the Church of Rome (Christian; Martyrs)

Horace Vernet (Artology)

Just Another Day Day (Pastafarian)

Martial, Bishop of Limoges (Christian; Saint)

Papa Doc Duvalier Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Paul the Apostle (Christian; Saint)

Stanley Spencer (Artology)

Stephanie Chicken (Muppetism)

Theobald of Provins (Christian; Saint)

Winston Graham (Writerism)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Prime Number Day: 181 [42 of 72]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle (Film; 2000)

Africa Squawks (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1939)

All About That Bass, by Meghan Trainor (Song; 2014)

America: The Motion Picture (Animated Film; 2021)

Apollo 13 (Film; 1995)

Armageddon (Film; 1998)

The BFG (Disney Film; 2016)

Blues for the Red Sun, by Kyuss (Album; 1992)

The Busy Beavers (Silly Symphonies Cartoon; 1931)

Cat-Tastrophy (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1949)

Despicable Me 3 (Animated Film; 2017)

The Devil Wears Prada (Film; 2006)

Do the Right Thing (Film; 1989)

End of the Road, by Boyz II Men (Song; 1992)

Filet Meow (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1966)

The Firm (Film; 1993)

French Rarebit (WB MM Cartoon; 1951)

Future Shock Alvin Toffler (Novel;

Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell (Novel; 1936)

Great Balls of Fire (Film; 1989)

Guiding Light (Soap Opera; 1952)

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Novel; 1997)

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (Film; 2023)

Johnny Carson Show (TV Series; 1955)

The Joy of Music, by Leonard Bernstein (Music Book; 1959)

KISS Marvel Comics Super Special! (Comic Book; 1977)

Love You More, by The Buzzcocks (Song; 1978)

Mad Love, by André Breton (Novel; 1937)

Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates (Film; 2016)

Not So Quiet (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1930)

Oliver! (Musical Play; 1960)

The Outlaw Josey Wales (Film; 1976)

Ross Poldark, by Winston Graham (Novel; 1945)

Ran (Film; 2000)

Ray Donovan (TV Series; 2014)

Silent Movie (Film; 1976)

Singles soundtrack, by various artists, including Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam & Soundgarden (Album; 1992) 

South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut (Film; 1999)

Spider-Man 2 (Film; 2004)

Stone Soup, by Marcia Brown (Children’s Book; 1947)

System of a Down, by System of a Down (Album; 1998)

Telegraph Line (Science Rock Cartoon; Schoolhouse Rock; 1979)

To a Skylark, by Percy Bysshe Shelley (Poem; 1820)

True Blue, by Madonna (Album; 1986)

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Pink (Pink Panther Cartoon; 1968)

Well Oiled (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1947)

Why Do I Dream Those Dreams (WB MM Cartoon; 1934)

Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory (Film; 1971)

Zoom at the Top (WB MM Cartoon; 1962)

Today’s Name Days

Bertram, Ehrentrud, Otto (Austria)

Apostol (Bulgaria)

Adolf, Ladislav (Croatia)

Šárka(Czech Republic)

Lucina (Denmark)

Helend, Päivo, Päivu (Estonia)

Päiviö, Päivö (Finland)

Adolphe, Martial (France)

Bertram, Ehrentrud, Otto (Germany)

Apostolis, Apostolos, Meliton (Greece)

Pál (Hungary)

Primi Martiri (Italy)

Mareks, Tālis, Tālivaldis (Latvia)

Adelė, Emilija, Liucina, Novilė, Tautginas (Lithuania)

Solbjørg, Solgunn (Norway)

Alpinian, Ciechosława, Cyryl, Emilia, Lucyna, Marcjal (Poland)

Ghelasie (România)

Melánia (Slovakia)

Marcial (Spain)

Elof, Leif (Sweden)

Jaheim, Leanna, Leanne, Lia, Liana (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 182 of 2024; 184 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 26 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Duir (Oak) [Day 22 of 28]

Chinese: Month 5 (Geng-Wu), Day 25 (Yi-Chou)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 24 Sivan 5784

Islamic: 23 Dhu al-Hijjah 1445

J Cal: 2 Red; Oneday [1 of 30]

Julian: 16 June 2024

Moon: 27%: Waning Crescent

Positivist: 13 Charlemagne (7th Month) [Bayard]

Runic Half Month: Feoh (Wealth) [Day 7 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 11 of 94)

Week: Last Week of June)

Zodiac: Cancer (Day 10 of 31)

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 6.30

Holidays

Action Mesothelioma Day (UK)

AMC (Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita) Awareness Day

Arch 630 Day

Armed Forces Day (Guatemala)

Artichoke Day (French Republic Day)

Blink 182 Day

Burning of the Three Fires (France)

Circus Comes To Town Day

Common Rock Rose Day (A.k.a. Yellow Cistus)

Day of the Virtual Friend

Day of Youth and Children’s Public Organizations (Ukraine)

Dia del Ejercito (a.k.a. Army Day; Guatemala)

Disabled Veterans Day

Don’t Sing in the Shower Day

Do the Right Thing Day

Economist Day (Belarus)

Fandronna (Madagascar)

Federalisation Day (Abeldane Empire)

Festival of Ass-Kissing

Flag Day (Bahamas, Portugal, Tanzania)

General Prayer Day (Central African Republic)

Gone With the Wind Day

Guiding Light Day

International Aquatic Maintenance Day

International Asteroid Day (UN)

International Day of Parliamentarism

International Sailor Moon Day

International Sperm Count Decline Awareness Day

lawyer’s Day (Kyrgyzstan)

Leap Second Adjustment Day

Lovers’ Day (Azerbaijan)

Meteor Watch Day (a.k.a. National Meteor Day)

National Blink-182 Day [182nd Day of the Year]

National Corvette Day

National ESIGN Day

National Girls in Automotive Day

National OOTD Day (a.k.a. National Outfit of the Day Day)

National Safer Workplace Day

National Water Gun Fight Day

Navy Day (Israel)

NOW Day (a.k.a. National Organization for Women Day)

Philippine-Spanish Friendship Day (Philippines)

Prayer Day (Central African Republic)

Pridie Kalendas July (Traditional citizen committee voting day; Ancient Rome)

Queer Youth of Faith Day

Rabbit Rabbit Day [Last Day of Every Month]

Remna Ni (Mizoram, India)

Revolution Day (Guatemala)

Social Media Day

Teacher’s Day (Dominican Republic)

Tech Support Appreciation Day

Thomas Sowell Day

Tungaska Meteor Day

World Pneumothorax Day

youth and Students’ Day (Belarus)

Food & Drink Celebrations

California Avocado Day

National Ice Cream Soda Day

National Mai Tai Day

Independence & Related Days

Carsica (Declared; 2018) [unrecognized]

Concordia (Declared; 2021) [unrecognized]

Democratic Republic of the Congo (f.k.a. Zaire; from Belgium, 1960)

Hul Divas (Santhal Rebellion Anniversary Day Jharkhand, India;1855)

Imus Cityhood Day (Philippines)

June 30th Anniversary (Coup d’Etat; Egypt; 2013)

Revolution Day (Sudan; 1989)

Tacloban Day (Philippines)

5th & Last Sunday in June

Alexanderson Day (Sweden) [Sunday closest to 7.2]

Father’s Day (Haiti) [Last Sunday]

Independence Sunday (Iowa) [Sunday before 7.4]

Bereaved Father’s Day (UK) [Last Sunday]

Descendants Day [Last Sunday]

Gay Pride Day [Last Sunday]

Log Cabin Day (Michigan) [Last Sunday]

Mother’s Day (Kenya) [Last Sunday]

National BeActive Day (Ireland) [Last Sunday]

National Ducks and Wetlands Day [Last Sunday]

Weekly Holidays beginning June 30 (Last Day before 1st Week of July)

Eye Safety Awareness Week (thru 7.6) [Begins Last Sunday]

Helen Keller — Blind Awareness Week (thru 7.6) [Begins Last Sunday]

Wildland Firefighter Week of Remembrance (thru 7.6)

Festivals Beginning June 30, 2024

ČeSFuR (Nové Město na Moravě, Czech Republic) [thru 7.5]

Paris Jazz Festival (Paris, France) [thru 9.8]

Red, White & Blueberry Festival (Hammonton, New Jersey)

Taste of Adams Avenue (San Diego, California)

Vikingland Band Festival (Alexandria, Minnesota)

Feast Days

Aizen Buddhist Festival begins (a.k.a. Aizen Matsuri, Osaka, Japan; until July 2)

Allan Houser (Artology)

Bayard (Positivist; Saint)

Bernard of Le Mans (Christian; Saint)

Blodeuwedd (Goddess of Flowers; Celtic Book of Days)

Crab Races (Pixies, Elves, and Some Fairies; Shamanism)

Cut Through Red Tape Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Czesław Miłosz (Writerism)

Day of Aestas (Corn Goddess Summer Festival; Ancient Rome)

Day Sacred to Ceres, Changing Woman, Chicomeocoatl, the Corn Mothers, Demeter, Gaia, Ge, Hestia, Iatiku, Oraea, Pachamama, Spider Woman, and Tonantzin (Everyday Wicca)

Erentrude (Christian; Saint & Virgin)

Eris’s Day (Pagan)

First Martyrs of the Church of Rome (Christian; Martyrs)

Horace Vernet (Artology)

Just Another Day Day (Pastafarian)

Martial, Bishop of Limoges (Christian; Saint)

Papa Doc Duvalier Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Paul the Apostle (Christian; Saint)

Stanley Spencer (Artology)

Stephanie Chicken (Muppetism)

Theobald of Provins (Christian; Saint)

Winston Graham (Writerism)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Prime Number Day: 181 [42 of 72]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle (Film; 2000)

Africa Squawks (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1939)

All About That Bass, by Meghan Trainor (Song; 2014)

America: The Motion Picture (Animated Film; 2021)

Apollo 13 (Film; 1995)

Armageddon (Film; 1998)

The BFG (Disney Film; 2016)

Blues for the Red Sun, by Kyuss (Album; 1992)

The Busy Beavers (Silly Symphonies Cartoon; 1931)

Cat-Tastrophy (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1949)

Despicable Me 3 (Animated Film; 2017)

The Devil Wears Prada (Film; 2006)

Do the Right Thing (Film; 1989)

End of the Road, by Boyz II Men (Song; 1992)

Filet Meow (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1966)

The Firm (Film; 1993)

French Rarebit (WB MM Cartoon; 1951)

Future Shock Alvin Toffler (Novel;

Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell (Novel; 1936)

Great Balls of Fire (Film; 1989)

Guiding Light (Soap Opera; 1952)

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Novel; 1997)

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (Film; 2023)

Johnny Carson Show (TV Series; 1955)

The Joy of Music, by Leonard Bernstein (Music Book; 1959)

KISS Marvel Comics Super Special! (Comic Book; 1977)

Love You More, by The Buzzcocks (Song; 1978)

Mad Love, by André Breton (Novel; 1937)

Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates (Film; 2016)

Not So Quiet (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1930)

Oliver! (Musical Play; 1960)

The Outlaw Josey Wales (Film; 1976)

Ross Poldark, by Winston Graham (Novel; 1945)

Ran (Film; 2000)

Ray Donovan (TV Series; 2014)

Silent Movie (Film; 1976)

Singles soundtrack, by various artists, including Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam & Soundgarden (Album; 1992) 

South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut (Film; 1999)

Spider-Man 2 (Film; 2004)

Stone Soup, by Marcia Brown (Children’s Book; 1947)

System of a Down, by System of a Down (Album; 1998)

Telegraph Line (Science Rock Cartoon; Schoolhouse Rock; 1979)

To a Skylark, by Percy Bysshe Shelley (Poem; 1820)

True Blue, by Madonna (Album; 1986)

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Pink (Pink Panther Cartoon; 1968)

Well Oiled (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1947)

Why Do I Dream Those Dreams (WB MM Cartoon; 1934)

Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory (Film; 1971)

Zoom at the Top (WB MM Cartoon; 1962)

Today’s Name Days

Bertram, Ehrentrud, Otto (Austria)

Apostol (Bulgaria)

Adolf, Ladislav (Croatia)

Šárka(Czech Republic)

Lucina (Denmark)

Helend, Päivo, Päivu (Estonia)

Päiviö, Päivö (Finland)

Adolphe, Martial (France)

Bertram, Ehrentrud, Otto (Germany)

Apostolis, Apostolos, Meliton (Greece)

Pál (Hungary)

Primi Martiri (Italy)

Mareks, Tālis, Tālivaldis (Latvia)

Adelė, Emilija, Liucina, Novilė, Tautginas (Lithuania)

Solbjørg, Solgunn (Norway)

Alpinian, Ciechosława, Cyryl, Emilia, Lucyna, Marcjal (Poland)

Ghelasie (România)

Melánia (Slovakia)

Marcial (Spain)

Elof, Leif (Sweden)

Jaheim, Leanna, Leanne, Lia, Liana (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 182 of 2024; 184 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 26 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Duir (Oak) [Day 22 of 28]

Chinese: Month 5 (Geng-Wu), Day 25 (Yi-Chou)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 24 Sivan 5784

Islamic: 23 Dhu al-Hijjah 1445

J Cal: 2 Red; Oneday [1 of 30]

Julian: 16 June 2024

Moon: 27%: Waning Crescent

Positivist: 13 Charlemagne (7th Month) [Bayard]

Runic Half Month: Feoh (Wealth) [Day 7 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 11 of 94)

Week: Last Week of June)

Zodiac: Cancer (Day 10 of 31)

[ppatricia34me]

Isn't it lovely Part1

“No peeking Patricia!” my firend Carly giggled, her small, let log hand held my left arm.

Emma, my other friend held my right arm, giggling as she helped Carly pull me, my eyes were still covered as the cold air hit me, the smell of fresh pizza made me Squeal with excitement.

“No way are we at Jeff's Pizza!” I excitedly asked, soon my blindfold was pulled away, my eyes wide as i looked out on the arcade, I turend to the tow and enveloped them in a large hug.

"Umm, hello, what about me?" A formeller guy teasingly called out.

I qwiclky turend on my heal to see my firend Qwine, his arms crossed playfull, hafe his face illuminated by an arcade racing game.

"Qwine, you sneaky little devil!" I exclaimed, rushing over to give him a hug, He smirked and huged me back.

"So what game, first birthday girl!" he teased, and I giggled, my eyes gazing at all the games.

I spotted a claw machine in the corner and pointed excitedly, "Let's start with that one!" Qwine chuckled and followed me over.

The claw machine was filled with big plush Spring Bonnies.

Qwine and I took turns trying to grab one, but it seemed impossible. After a few failed attempts, Qwine finally managed to snag one and handed it to me with a grin. "Happy birthday, my friend," he said warmly.

I happily hugged the plushy and thanked him, he playfully wicked at me.

"Yoo, it's bigger than you!" Carly called out to me as I showed the girls.

We all giggled as we walked over to a booth and sat down.

I placed the large plush on the seat closeist to my bag.

"Here want me to put him in your bag?" Qwine offered, I smiled and moved out of the booth.

I watched as he carefully placed the plush inside, his oversized head pokeing out of my bag.

"There, he's snun as a bun!" Qwine chuckled as he presented my bag to me, I giggled and put it on.

"Hay I bet you cant feat in the ballpit with that on!" Qwin teased playfully, Carly, and Emma both rooled there eyes at him, ready to say something but I steped in.

"Oh yha watch me!" I playfully sasyed him, Carly, and Emma smirked at him from eather sides of me.

Qwin raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting my challenge. I ran over to the ball pit, determined to prove him wrong.

I juped in, The wave of nostalgia hit me as my body was envolved in the sea of colourful balls, it feailt thinker then I rembered, alot hearder to move too.

As I strunged to move threw the ballpit I feilt something touch my ankle, my face whent pale.

"H..H..Ha, very funny Qwin, W..What did you hide in the ball pit?" I nerivecly asked.

The girls shoot him a glare, and Qwin put his arms up.

"N..Nothing, I sware!" Qwin spoke.

The girls exchanged a look of worry before rushing to the pit, Emma reached out her hand for me, When I tryed to grabe it, I fealt it angin, I froze, and then I was pulled down, sremeing as something dragged me down, the sound of my friends made my heart qwicking, I couldn't get away as whatever this was, it was strong and fast, My eyes soon closed.

(An unknown amount of time later, Sill Patricia POV)

I could feel my mind slowly wakeing up,I was on something soft, I kept my eyes shut, intell I feailt the sudden sensation of falling, then my eyes snaped open, my heart raceing as everything came back to me.

I sat up qwickly, I wasn't at Jeff's Pizza any more, I was in a red room with chakerbored floors, no windows, seating on a red flocked couch with a blakit over me.

The room was huge and well light.

I pushed the blakit off and stood up, My eyes winded, I was no longer in my black short overalls and floral top, instead I was waering a light blue Plaid Midi Dress, with Puff sleeves and a Square neckline. I also had white heels.

I could hear my heart racing as my mind began to think , not only was I in an unfamiliar place, but some creep had changed my clothes, and I have a feeling it was the creep that dranged me here.

I took a shakey breath and begain to walk around the room, The walls were pictureless, devoid of any family photos or remnants of anyone being there.

The room was eerily quiet, with only the sound of my own footsteps echoing off the walls.

As I walked further my eyes Lit up, there in the Distance bathed in Shadow stood a yellow door similar to one you'd find at a restaurant that would be used as an emergency exit.

I happily squealed as I ran as fast as i could in the heels i was forced into, I forced the door open and I was someware new.

I found myself in a black lightt arcade, An animatronic band playing on a stage and children running arond Well parents watched on from the seating room.

I stepped forward and begin to walk arond, The place looked fun but i Couldn't shake the earriness as i held myself.

As I walked around further I must have not been paying attention because i soon found mysfle bumping into a young man.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I kind of spaced out!” I flushed as i Apologized it's the older teen.

His Eyes went wide as he looked at me.

“I should be Apologizing to you Miss Davies, your husbend would have my head if he saw!” the teen Exclaimed.

My heart stoped, I didnt even have a boyfriend; I could feel my cheeks heat up, the teen looked at me like a deer in the headlights and quickly dashed off.

"S..Sorry angin Miss Davies, it wont happen, Angin!" The teen called out.

I watched him disappear into the crowd, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease, but I kept walking, the arcade was huge, children dashed pass me.

Soon I ended up on the edge of the arcade that led out to the dining room.

The Smell of freshly baked pizza caught my nose and I found myself going towred it, The pizza was being served Buffet style, I smiled and grabbed a plate and waited in line.

As the line moved, I fond myself face to face with the employee that was handing out the pizza, There eyes were wide but they soon put on a smile.

“Hello Miss Davies, Happy birthday, I hope your having fun!?” The girl spoke, a slight nervousness in her voice.

“Oh Thank you, Its Certainly interesting!” I chuckled Awkwardly, the girl let out a forced Laugh and Placed a meat lovers Pizza on my plate with her tongues.

“HAHAHA, Thats a good one Miss Davies, your so funny!” the girl Shouted amongst her fake laughter.

I smiled Awkwardly and Picked up my walking pace to a table, more like a booth.

I qwickly Ducked and slid into the booth seat, enjoying the moment to catch my berath.

I began to eat my slice of pizza, it wasnt like Jeff's Pizza, but it still teasted ok.

Once finished I grabbed my trash and threw it way and begin to walk arond once angin.

I found myself in an Adults only Section of the restaurant, there was a bair, Champagne colored walls and Granite and white marble Checkerboard floring, The bar was being tended to by a Freddy Fazbear looking animatronic that had Brown metallic casing with turquoise cheeks and what looked like a referee's outfit, as I approached I spotted name tag, it read “Carnie.”

"Hody, Miss Davies, what can I get you?" Carnies robic voce asked.

I slightly fliched at the question but then smiled softly.

"Umm, May I have a fizzy fatume?" I asked.

He wicked at me, and grabed my dirk from the frege.

"Your at a bar and you picked the non-alcoholic pop?!" Carnie teased.

I flushed and sheepishly nodded my head, chuckling slightly, He chuckled back.

He pushed it softly over to me and I took it. He winked, and I thanked him and walked around more.

the room was packed with people chatting, jazz was softly playing in te backgrond.

I found a cozy corner to stand in and enjoy my drink, taking in the lively atmosphere of the room.

"Honey bunny~?" Sundly A deep mans voce wispered husckly in my ear, I could feel his hot breath breathing down my neck.

I froze, As my eyes darted to the side waer he stood, there by my side a large yellow rabbit animatronic that stood taller then most people, he was even taller then the other animatronic.

I feailt his cold matle hand grab my hip proctively angst his body, He looked like spring bonnie expit his eyes were turquoise and he had on a Royal blue suit on, almost as if he was masquerading as a human.

"You look allmost as good as the restaurants carrot cake~!" he creepily whispered.

I shivered as I felt his grip tighten, his creepy, deep laughter made my skin crall as his mouth got closer to my neck.

"Ah, Mr. And Miss Davies, just the couple I've been looking for!" A lowed friendly mans voce called out, I held back a sigh of relief, but I definitely didn't miss the low animalistic growl coming from the yellow rabite.

He straightened up his posture and put on a toothy grin.

"Ah Colton, Good to see you made it out to my wifes party~!" the yellow rabite sneered.

I gave the man a soft nevers smile, Colton let out a joyful chuckle.

"Are you kiding I woulnt miss this for the world!" he smiled.

the yellow rabite rooled his eyes, but qwickly put on a fake smile.

"Of course, you wouldn't want to disappoint your dear wife's best friend!" the yellow rabite replied through gritted teeth. Colton winked at me and clinked his glass of champagne against my pop can.

"Oh Yes, Felicity is somewaer here!?" Colton smiled, looking around the room.

"Why don't you go find her, i'm sure she's looking for you!?" the yellow rabit spoke, his deep voce makeing me shiver slightly.

Colton almost looked like he was in a dazy as he walked off.

"Finanly, Peace, now where were we?" The yellow rabit exlamed pulling me close and berrying his snout in my neck.

I could feel his hot, slimy drool splatter my sholder and neck, I flushed as he softly nibbled on my skin, he razed his right leg up, caseing me to lose my blace and stradle it, He chuckled deeply and left me higher thanks to his leg, nibling more of my neck.

I could feel his sharp teeth grazing my skin, yep he was Definitely going to leave a bruise.

I feilt my face heat up as I felt the yellow rabit start griding his leg against my opening, I bite my cheek, trying to keep from moaning, but wirdly I enjoyed the feeling, it feilt good.

"Mmm, What a Saucy little bunny you are, how long before you break~!?" he teased, huskly into my ear.

His words sent shivers down to my core, I couldn't help the small soft gasp that left my mouth as my cheeks whent bright red.

He growled playfully into my cheek, laying slimly open mouth kisses.

I sqilled softly, giggleing at the tickistsh sensation of his slimly open mouth kisses.

I couldn't resist the urge to press myself closer to him, wanting more of his teasing and playful touches, He chuckled, his grip tighting around my waist.

His breathing was similar to that of a feral wild animal.

“Mmm, Thats it honey bunny, play dirty, show me what you want~!” he growled husky in my ear.

I feailt my body lose it, I could feel the moan in the back of my Throat, I opened my mouth, but then someone called us, And I was unservicemeniously dropped to the ground, landing on my feet, I let out a soft, frustrated whimper.

The yellow rabbit let out a deep chuckle, placing his hands on my sholders and walking us over to Colton and my supposed best friend Felicity.

"Woha you two look like you've been partying heard!" Colton Chuckled, swing back and forth slightly, no doubt a little drunk.

I tried to compose myself, straightening my clothes and fixing my hair, hoping they didn't notice how flustered I was.

sundly, I feilt Felicity's long fingerneals brush my slightly bruised, slimy neck.

I feilt my breth hitch as she softly brushed my neck.

"Aww you poor thing, so sentive~!" she cood .

My cheeks flushed and the yellow rabit chuckled.

"I know, she's allways been such a bruiser~!" the yellow rabit teased, rubing my arms.

Felicity ran her fingers over the Indians left from the yellow rabbit's teeth, smirking at my face as I glared at her, my face flushed from my sentive neck.

"I hope you have a turtleneck swater~!" she teased, a smirk lineing her lips.

I tryed to hide my neck with the coler of my dress, but do to its shap it was inpossble, I ould feel my eyes water, but sundle I feilt a havey jackit drop on my sholder, I looked up, the yellow rabit smileing softly at me.

I nuzzled the jackit close, Ignoring Felicity.

(A few hours later the yellow rabbit POV)

I said goodbye to the last guest, closing the door and locking it, I turend to see my dear sweet honey bun sleeping with her face resting on a table, with several cans of fizzy fatume around her, I smiled as I picked up her sleeping body.

I was grateful to Carnie for spiking her last drink for me, I might have had control over this Pocket dimension and its inhabitants, but control over her was different, she was human.

[moonlitetales]

My childhood crushes list because I wanna see if there is a pattern somewhere

...I don't think lots of people know him but.. Ryoga Hibiki

^^^this mother fucker right here. I used to have the fatest crush on him but I don't remember a lot about him. I do remember that I used to be both happy and upset every time he and the fl had a moment together

I also happened to have a smaller but still there crush on his arch nemesis Ranma Saotome

^^^this motherfucker right here (yes they are the same person. Search remna 1/2 {also fanart credit: https://ranmafioso.tumblr.com/post/117620083102/chaoticwildhorse-render-13-saotome-ranma } )

-------------------------------

then there is Kaito Kuroba

^^^ him!! I loved his magic tricks and was so damn impressed by him

I...also liked his arch nemesis...

^^^ shinichi kudo. although this time I think I liked shinichi more which is weird cause he turns to a kid...but I guess I was a kid too sooo....

anime: detective Conan

-------------

I'm not sure which part of this hair cut did I like but yeah

^^^ ...yeah

...him too 💀💀💀

^^^ ...yeah X2

...Ben 10 Alien Force

---------------------------------------

He was my favorite though <3

^^^ <3333

I still love him <3

------------------

I will ad more when I remember 😊

[headlinerportugal]

UTO maravilhosamente disruptivos e NewDad embalados por Julie Dawson - Dia 2 do Westway LAB 2024 | Reportagem Completa

Julie Dawson a vocalista e guitarrista dos NewDad | mais fotos clicar aqui Como habitualmente no Westway LAB, ficou reservado para o último dia a tournée por diversos espaços na cidade, neste passado sábado, 13 de abril. Uma programação apelidada de ‘City Showcases’ levou concertos ao Convívio Associação Cultural, ao Oub’Lá, ao Tribuna, no Ramada 1930 e este ano também ao CAAA. Todos estes locais recebem frequentemente atividades culturais.

Com os ‘City Showcases’ a terem início de 30 em 30 minutos optei, mais uma vez este ano, por seguir um determinado roteiro em vez de percorrer as atuações todas. Tal permitiu-me assistir tranquilamente às atuações escolhidas.

Dei prioridade aos artistas que ainda não tinha tido oportunidade de ver ao vivo. Por motivo de ter sido uma tarde agitada em Guimarães com o clube da cidade a jogar em casa a partir das 15:30h geri a minha vida de forma a evitar a altura de maior trânsito em direção à cidade. Por isso os dois primeiros showcases: o de Remna e da Sónia Trópicos ficaram sem efeito. As outras atuações pelas quais não passei foram a de J.P. Coimbra, do duo polaco Franek Warzywa e Młody Budda e dos búlgaros Trigaida.

Sábado à tarde - City Showcases

A jornada começou então a partir das 15:30h no Ramada 1930 com os Grand Sun. Nesta que foi a primeira atuação da tarde a que assisti e curiosamente um reencontro com estes lisboetas quase 1 ano depois de os ter visto precisamente neste mesmo local. Nessa altura, em maio de 2023, tocaram ao final da tarde nas celebrações do 5º aniversário do Oub'Lá cuja reportagem está disponível aqui.

Grand Sun de regresso ao Ramada 1930 | mais fotos clicar aqui António Reis (voz e teclas), João Simões (voz e guitarra), João Ribeiro (baixo) e Miguel Gomes (bateria) são Grand Sun. João Simões confessou que nunca tinham tocado tão cedo. Minutos antes do arranque da atuação estavam ainda a fazer soundcheck e a afinar os últimos pormenores. Eles que surgiram neste Westway LAB após um contacto feito com um dos responsáveis do evento vimaranense durante o Eurosonic (Países Baixos) no passado mês de janeiro. Razão para dizer que o mundo é mesmo pequeno

O estilo descontraído da banda e o som com melodias contagiantes merecia um ambiente mais vibrante, com mais gente a assistir, apesar de terem passado umas boas dúzias de pessoas. Terem tocado à mesma hora do futebol terá retirado alguns curiosos.

Inicialmente não tinha programado a ida ao Tribuna para a atuação das Depdepan. Na sequência deste duo feminino ter atuado na quarta-feira anterior nos showcases das residências fez-me mudar as ideias. Chelsea Tolhurst (voz e guitarra) e Grace Bontoft (baixo e segunda voz) participaram no programa de residências artísticas do Westway LAB.

Debdepan no Tribuna | mais fotos clicar aqui Elas que confessaram terem passado cá por Guimarães “as duas melhores semanas de sempre". Para esta atuação completaram a sua formação com o baterista Conor Stanfield. O seu reportório ainda é bastante curto apenas com 4 temas disponíveis online. A faixa "Darkest Hour", tema de estreia editado em setembro de 2022, não faltou no alinhamento e serve perfeitamente de cartão-de-visita deste projeto de indie rock cujo potencial ficou bem vincado na sua performance.

Uma passagem pelo Oub’Lá, mesmo que breve, é sempre obrigatória. Com uma maravilhosa tarde que parecia de verão, de céu azul, convidou para tomar um copo no centro histórico e perceber melhor o ambiente da cidade em tarde com 20 mil pessoas a assistirem um jogo do Vitória Sport Clube. Após a goela refrescada houve ainda tempo para escutar um pouco de Corvo.

Corvo no Oub'Lá | mais fotos clicar aqui

O rapper português, nascido e criado na Madeira, contou com o apoio vocal de João Silva. Naqueles minutos em que estive presente fiquei com uma boa impressão do hip hop produzido por Corvo.

Para encerramento meu do circuito pelos ‘City Showcases’ escolhi regressar ao Ramada 1930 para ver o desempenho dos Melquiades. Esta banda proveniente de Lisboa (surgiu na verdade entre a capital e Setúbal) tem como elementos os seguintes músicos: António Agostinho (guitarra), João Abelaira (sintetizadores), Luís Lucena (baixo) e Miguel Abelaira (bateria).

Melquiades no Ramada 1930 | mais fotos clicar aqui Estes Melquiades entraram no meu léxico musical já há alguns meses pelo que esta era uma boa oportunidade para interiorizar mais aprofundadamente a sua valia. O seu repertório tem uma forte componente instrumental alicerçada por entre géneros como o math-rock e post-rock. Ao vivo soam bem e confirmaram as minhas noções positivas sobre a sua valia.

‘Fountain of Shingle’ é o álbum de estreia, editado pela portuense Saliva Diva e vem sendo tocado ao vivo pelas salas, clubes e bares de Portugal. Têm tido a companhia dos camaradas Daisy Capital Hotel em algumas das datas como foi o caso do Musicbox em Lisboa e o Ferro Bar no Porto.

Sábado – Noite 2 do Festival

Tal como na noite anterior, neste último sábado dia 13 de abril, o clima estava deveras agradável e convém lembrar que estamos somente no início da primavera.

A adesão de público ao evento foi bastante modesta, tal como na jornada de sexta-feira, um bocado inferior no número de pessoas presentes. Algo que causou alguma estranheza, a expetativa era bem diferente. Estarem os Xutos & Pontapés a atuarem a menos de 1km de distância à mesma hora, estar o tempo convidativo a outros programas ou o cartaz não ser tão apelativo são possíveis explicações para tal situação.

Pórtico de entrada/saída do Westway LAB | mais fotos clicar aqui

Minutos antes de entrar em palco Júlia Mestre tinha sido entrevistada em direto para a Antena3, media partner bastante relevante do Westway LAB. Talvez também por isso e por estar num dos melhores auditórios nacionais, a brasileira entrou sorridente para a sua posição pelas 21:33h.

A vocalista dos Bala Desejo prossegue também agora numa carreira a solo e foi nesta condição que veio dar 4 concertos em território luso. Neste sábado à noite foi a primeira a atuar perante uma plateia que ia tendo público a entrar em regime de conta-gotas. Notou-se na presença de público bastante interessado na sua performance a solo. Munida apenas da sua voz e do seu violão “embarcou” para uma atuação simplesmente natural na qual as palavras das suas letras saíram graciosamente amplificadas.

A brasileira Júlia Mestre em Guimarães | mais fotos clicar aqui

Júlia Mestre veio especificamente mostrar alguns dos seus novos temas presente em ‘Arrepiada’, álbum editado em abril do ano passado. Faixas como "Menino bonito", "Chuva de Caju" , “Sentimento Blues” e “do do u” foram interpretadas de forma sentimental tendo causado um impacto bom na audiência. O repertório de Bala Desejo foi também abordado com “Passarinha”.

A penúltima atuação no Café Concerto desta 11ª edição do Westway LAB foram os Conferência Inferno. Raul Mendiratta (sintetizadores) e Francisco Lima (voz) são os responsáveis pelo início do projeto Conferência Inferno em 2018. Mais tarde juntou-se José Miguel Silva para os teclados. Este trio portuense tem uma estética sonora bastante invulgar. Às letras negras e meio obscuras de Francisco são adicionadas trechos musicais post-punk e eletrónicos. Revelam um synth-pop à portuguesa refrescante e inovador com ritmos ora melódicos ora dançáveis numa mistura de Joy Division com Devo e New Order.

Conferência Inferno no Café Concerto do CCVF | mais fotos clicar aqui

Nesta performance o som esteve demasiado alto para o espaço e para a presença de público em número pouco significativo. Seguramente temas como “Mayday” (logo tocado no debute às 22:20h) "Alma", "Amanhã" ou “Fantasias” destinam-se a públicos mais específicos.

Nota final de registo para a pouca luz com que este trio portuense foi brindado, algo certamente propositado para “fabricar” um ambiente mais denso e consonante com a sonoridade destes Conferência Inferno. Eles estiveram pouco comunicativos, em contraponto todo o seu empenho esteve focado nas suas performances.

A grande surpresa desta segunda e última noite de festival foram os UTO. Este é um duo procedente de Paris e composto por Neysa May Barnett e Emile Larroche. Atuaram no dia seguinte à edição de ‘When all you want to do is be the fire part of fire’, o seu novíssimo álbum.

Duo francês UTO foi uma das maiores surpresas | mais fotos clicar aqui

Estes UTO revelaram-se disruptivos e experimentais. Recorrendo a sintetizadores, à voz de ambos e ocasionalmente às suas guitarras mostraram-nos o seu synth-pop efervescente e bastante dinâmico.

Com letras em inglês e outras na sua língua materna, o francês, proporcionaram um daqueles momentos reveladores e impressionantes. Conjugaram um jogo de luzes com as suas vestimentas coloridas, nas quais o encarnado foi elemento comum de uma atuação que de comum nada teve. Ponto curioso para Neysa, utilizou auscultadores ao invés dos mais comuns in ear.

Emile Larroche duo francês UTO | mais fotos clicar aqui

Fiquei com a certeza de que ouviremos falar mais deles a breve trecho, com toda a certeza. Para reafirmar e memorizar: UTO.

Diz a sabedoria popular “santos da casa não fazem milagres” e tal é escutado amiúde no dia-a-dia. Desta vez é mesmo necessário refazer este ditado popular retirando-lhe o “não. Há que dizer, com toda a propriedade, que os Unsafe Space Garden fazem milagres a cada atuação e desta vez foram brindados com o público da cidade que os viu nascer. Por entre amigos e fãs, não foram assim muitos (mereciam muitos mais) porém foram dos bons, tiveram direito a mais uma performance bem agitada, animada e divertida ocorrida já nos primeiros minutos de domingo, 14 de abril.

Alexandra dos Unsafe Space Garden | mais fotos clicar aqui

Desde o “pop bem-humorado“ do EP ‘Bubble Burst’ (2018), até ao rock psicadélico hiperbólico e florido do mais recente ‘Where’s The Ground’ (2023) esta formação evoluiu imenso, numa maneira muito positiva.

A banda foi sofrendo mutações no seu percurso, os membros fundadores Nuno e Alexandra continuam como núcleo, apresentando-se ao vivo, normalmente em sexteto, com o apoio de Filipe Louro (baixo), José Vale (guitarra), João Cardita (bateria) e Diogo Costa (sintetizador e samples).

Unsafe Space Garden a preencherem o palco e a emoção | mais fotos clicar aqui “Grown-Ups!”, “Where's The Ground?”, “Tremendous Comprehension!” ou “Em Defesa do Sol” tiveram direito a interpretações incríveis numa exibição em que os habituais cartazes, as pinturas faciais aliadas ao seu outfit espampanante não faltaram. Unsafe Space Garden ou Ulterior Sapiência Gritante, o que é relevante é que estes meninos estão cá de pedra e cal para nos deliciarem com estas canções e esta irreverência boa.

Têm sido avaliados como a próxima “big thing” a explodir no universo da música, por isso, esta vinda dos NewDad a Guimarães causava uma expetativa diferenciada e um pouco elevada. Tal como referi anteriormente, esta jornada final não contou com adesão de público em número mais revelante e quiçá mais expetável, no entanto algumas pessoas conhecidas da indústria musical nacional fizeram questão de estarem em Guimarães para checkarem estes jovens irlandeses vindos de Galway.

NewDad em estreia absoluta no nosso país | mais fotos clicar aqui A entrada dos NewDad aconteceu muito perto da 1 hora da manhã e o seu concerto teve lugar na box, o palco principal. Logo de arranque tocaram "Angel" seguindo-se “Slowly”, "Dream of Me" e “In My Head”.

Julie Dawson, a vocalista e guitarrista, afirmou estarem muito contentes pela primeira vez no nosso país. Sean O’Dowd (guitarra), Cara Joshi (baixo) e Fiachra Parslow (bateria) são os restantes membros da banda.

Fiachra Parslow no baixo dos NewDad | mais fotos clicar aqui No indie rock pachorrento e aconchegante para qual contribui a voz melada da vocalista notam-se influências diversas, se calhar assim de repente associo-os de forma simples aos Slowdive.

"Sickly Sweet" foi tocada bem como “Madra”, a faixa que dá o nome ao último registo discográfico dos NewDad. A última música foi "White Ribbens", interpretada a solo por Julie Dawson.

Efetivamente veio gente de fora da região propositadamente para os NewDad e os fãs pareceram, no final, estarem satisfeitos pela performance.

Cara Joshi no baixo dos NewDad | mais fotos clicar aqui Pessoalmente acho que a “barra” foi estabelecida muito acima, creio que eles têm potencial, no entanto, têm ainda muita estrada para andar. Para ganharem “calo” e conseguirem evoluir de forma positiva progressivamente até alcançarem outro nível. Veremos…

O Westway LAB teve uma boa edição neste 2024, esta que foi a décima primeira. Ao contrário do sucesso do ano passado, devido à lotação esgotada que se registou em 2023, a uma maior envolvência do público, isso não foi registado em 2024.

Alguns concertos foram incríveis e houve ainda lugar para algumas deliciosas descobertas. Mais uma vez as Residências Artísticas deram resultado a showcases bastantes agradáveis sendo este um dos pontos mais espetaculares de todo o Westway LAB.

Julie Dawson a vocalista e guitarrista dos NewDad | mais fotos clicar aqui

Ressalvar o trabalho d’A Oficina, gestora do Centro Cultural Vila Flor, pela alta qualidade geral na produção e organização do evento.

Após esta 11ª edição é preciso assinalar que o festival precisa obviamente realçar os pontos positivos porém é necessário igualmente refletir sobre certas questões: o retrocesso da adesão do público. A meu ver, o facto de outros eventos estarem a acontecer ao mesmo tempo na cidade ou até do bom tempo registado neste fim-de-semana podem explicar alguma coisa, contudo não explicam tudo.

Talvez o cartaz menos pomposo explique um pouco. Em 2023 Linda Martini e Criatura funcionaram como âncora. Um forte headLiner ajuda sabendo-se que é um evento que, pela sua essência, dará sempre palco a talentos emergentes e a bandas menos conhecidas.

Reportagem fotográfica completa: Clicar Aqui

Duo francês UTO foi uma das maiores surpresas | mais fotos clicar aqui

Texto: Edgar Silva Fotografia: Jorge Nicolau