#severe faultlining

[edwardos]

Screenshots from 2021 of sights in my real old Minecraft Beta worlds.

[yunwangja]

oof im writing some good stuff…. it making me blushhhhhh

[lilianade-comics]

bestie i KEEP meaning to tell you, my #1 spotify wrapped song was one that i overplayed like crazy *entirely* because it reminded me of your girl out of time au. i'd just sit there imagining scenes and letting my imagination go hogwild. it was "prosthetic love" by typhoon but the important thing here is that you gave me severe brain worms with that au in the best possible way. it's still turning in my head like a rotisserie chicken. i love weird young accidental dad vlad with all my heart

This?? Coming from you? Means the absolute world to me! I still fairly regularly kick around elaborate, contextless angsty Vlad & Dani road trip reconciliation scenarios because your fic (we are) the faultline irreparably altered my brain chemistry.

I listened to Prosthetic Love and I completely see the vision. That's a cheese melt time travel found family song if I've ever heard one. (And goodness knows I've heard a lot of them, Girl Out of Time has a whole personal playlist of thematically appropriate 80s rock and angsty retrowave because I'm incapable of listening to music and not projecting them onto it).

Weird young accidental dad Vlad is beloved, I'm so glad you agree. He's a complete mess and so's Dani, but they're both pretending to be fine so the other doesn't ask questions. The lack of real communication makes their strange parent/child relationship rest comfortably in between half truths and half lies and a whole lot of omission, and yet it's more real than what Dani ran away from in 2006. It's no wonder she doesn't want to leave the past....

Anyway, thanks for sharing this!! It means a lot that people enjoy my AUs! (Especially this one, this one torments me :))

[artbyblastweave]

What percentage of Worm non-heroes could you simultaneously heroify without causing enough divergence to derail canon?

Due to their sheer size, their post-leviathan irrelevance, and the Protectorate's known tendency to fold in total scumbags with a rebrand if they think they can get away with it, I think you could peel off quite a few of E88's fodder capes and shuffle them off to remote protectorate branches (or corporate teams, or Haven) before it affected much in the story. You can peel off several of the lower-ranking Merchants in a similar manner, and you might be able to do the same thing to Oni Lee. Faultline and her team could also inch a few degrees towards "Heroes-for-hire" rather than villainous mercenaries without much changing. The non-Brockton-bay S9 lineup could look like anything. The adepts could all be heroes and it would affect nothing. Likely there are more examples

[lordmaddie]

Nothing But Echoes

In the latest chapter if @ashestoblood 's fanfic Dark Chambers of our Mind, my Prophet the Marksman gets a cameo, meeting her Prophetess Ilona :O I felt inspired to write a version of the scene from the Marksman's PoV A short drabble, below the readmore ^-^

A day of the drudgery of shopping awaited us. With war looming on the horizon, this was likely one of the last chances we’d get to stock up on supplies and non-perishable food. Everyone else was having the same idea, it seemed… The Marketplace was heaving, and in the hubbub I overheard several complaints at the increase in prices.

Tharaêl split off to speak to Golfur Silverman (the merchant and I were currently not on speaking terms…) and I started to make my way to Erbgoth's to purchase some dubbins.

Momentarily, the sun became too harsh, filling my vision in white. A pain behind my eyes, like I was experiencing the Echo, but milder - I was not locked within my body this time.

“The Sea of Eventualities churns with strange tides, False Prophet.” A voice in my ear - the Veiled Woman again, so soon? “Currents meet and mingle, however briefly, as like calls to like. One will remember and one will forget. Truth shall bleed - but who is the dreamer, and who is the dream?”

I had no time to think upon her words, however, for in my disorientation I’d walked into someone- No, not into. Through. I turned.

A woman, dressed in sensible travel-leathers, her hair tied back to keep it out the way. I looked into the eyes of a fellow killer… But not into the eyes of an evil thing. And… So strange. I sensed something kindred about her.

Her eyes dipped to my neck. Frowning in thought, she reached into the collar of her leathers and pulled out a pendant - a Sigil Shard. She tilted it in her fingers, showing me a cracked face of the gem. I touched my own Shard, running a thumb over it - mine had the exact same faultline, like a bolt of lightning.

“Where did you get that Shard?” She asked in blatant demand. I took note of the edge in her tone… I had both height and weight over her, and she didn’t seem particularly well armed. A mage, then, I guessed… With magic enough to lend her confidence enough to speak to me that way.

“From the Archmagister in the Chronicum.” I answered. The Veiled Woman’s words caught up with me… Surely not…? “The same as you…?”

“I don’t remember seeing you when the fragments were divided…” Not a question - she sounded like she was half-immersed in her own thoughts.

“I don’t recall you, either - and I would’ve noted your presence.”

The more I looked at her, I came to the realisation that I could see through her - just barely. As if she wasn’t quite here. She cast no shadow.

There was a long silence between us. She broke it first. “Prophet…?” Ah, that was a question.

That’s what they called me, up at the Temple. But she was certainly no Keeper, nor novice, nor one of the wizards. I made my - hah - shot in the dark: “Prophetess…?”

She nodded. “I suppose this is someone’s idea of a joke, two Prophets crossing paths.”

I knew of no people or entities that had both the penchant and power for such foolery. “Or a sign of worse to come.” I’d never had a vision that showed anything nice, after all. A passing guard thought himself brave enough to give me a judging look. I met his eyes until he dropped his gaze and hastened his steps.

“So tell me, Prophet-” She began, but I cut her off. “No need for that, not between us.” This role wasn’t one I shouldered with pride - it was a grim necessity, nothing more. “Call me Corvus… Or the Marksman, if titles are your preference.”

“Ilona.” She gave her name in fair exchange. “So tell me, Corvus. Do you think all this-” she didn’t need to specify what this was “-will get any better for us?”

I shook my head wryly. “No. We’re not glorious heroes walking the ‘Righteous Path’, are we? The likes of us don’t get a happy ending.”

Ilona laughed, half-heartedly… You had to, didn’t you? Or you’d weep all day long… “I suppose the ‘likes of us’ are the main requirement for the role of Prophet. Someone… Wrong.”

“Perhaps.” I looked away, idly scanning the rooftops, the walls, the movement of people in the Marketplace. The people passing by unknowingly parted around us like a river around a stone. “Or maybe it’s our punishment for whatever sins stain our hands red.” My thoughts turned, as they often did, back to Kilé.

Sensing Ilona’s gaze on me, I slid my eyes back to her. She seemed hopeful… The same hope I carried within myself. “Or a chance for redemption.” She said, solemn.

Before I could reply, Tharaêl’s familiar voice interrupted us. “There you are.” Odd. His words seemed to echo. Ilona and I turned to him.

This wasn’t my Tharaêl, I noticed immediately. This one had different clothes, and moved differently - he carried himself stiffly, as if recovering from an overexertion the previous night. I looked back to Ilona, eyebrow raised, a smile at my lips, to ask if she was the cause-

To see her gone.

I looked back to see the other Tharaêl gone, also, replaced with my own. He frowned in poorly-masked concern. “I thought I heard voices.” He said. “Were you talking to someone?”

My mirth faded. “No, there was-” There was what? What was I doing? “Sorry, I think I’m still tired. What did you say, again?” “I said: Have you been to Erbgoth’s?” That was it! “No, not yet.” “Well, she’s closed.” Tharaêl informed me. “There was a rush earlier this morning, and she’s out of stock. Silverman was the same.” “Piss.” Just our luck. “Well, let’s go see if Uajaan has anything left. Worst comes to worst, we’ll twist the Temple Quartermaster’s arm for some supplies.” “If we’re heading to the Temple afterwards, we should see how Calia’s doing…”

As we headed off together, I thought I heard the sound of flapping wings. But of course, there was nothing.

[softskyburial]

This is a pinned post for @softskyburial

That name came out of a time when I lived alone in a shack in the wilderness and was convinced that I was going to die out there. I watched so many other dead animals get devoured and I had extremely severe covid so I expected the same for myself.

Obviously I’m still alive and I highly recommend it. I’m now getting my MFA in visual arts at a low residency program. Which is amazing because the effects of the pandemic are ongoing in my life.

My MFA thesis is about knitting and digital art. My art blog is @pixiesnakes

I’m a faultline hugging Californian (the picture above is the San Andreas fault) and I was a Hindu monk in an ashram for a few years. I’m very serious about religion and spirituality but not in a weird way. Becoming religious also required me to become deeply anti-colonial and anti-racist.

I post a lot of personal, art, nature, justice, veganism, and queer stuff. I don’t post politics because privacy but I absolutely do have opinions and enjoy reading on the subject. Use whatever pronouns you want for me. Why do you need to know my gender? Are you a cop?

I’m one of those livejournal refugees that came to tumblr in 2011.

[mariacallous]

Meduza: Problems with the ‘decolonization’ of American studies of Slavicism, Eastern Europe, and Eurasia

In an article published on January 1 by the website LeftEast, historians Alexander Herbert and Bryan Gigantino challenge the cultural analysis that dominates modern American studies of Slavicism, Eastern Europe, and Eurasia. Herbert and Gigantino criticize the role “decolonization” now plays in the field, and they focus on several panels and presentations at the most recent ASEEES annual conference. 

Their main complaint is that scholars embrace “essentialist depictions,” elevating nation-states to a “historical political ideal,” and similarly approach culture “as an essence divorced from material forces.” Affirming “abstract, culturally inflected immaterial visions of the nation” is dangerous both for its primordialism and how it paints the Soviet Union as an “imperialist, colonial, or even anti-national polity,” overlooking the USSR’s complicated history as a nation-builder.

The authors list types of materialism they say scholars overlook — “wealth accumulation, class struggle, territorialization, financialization, capital, and natural resources“ — but they urge colleagues to treat these factors as the context for culture and ideology, not as a reductive economic explanation for history. The trickiness of implementing this in practice is evident in two cases Herbert and Gigantino confront: the invasion of Ukraine and the study of race in the USSR.

In Ukraine, “analyzing the crisis materially, with skepticism towards the assumption that ethnonational hatred or ideology are the primary drivers of war,” leads to the conclusion that Russia’s invasion was a rational response to “contingent political crises, economic incentives, concerns over natural resources, and decades of geopolitical competition.” Herbert and Gigantino are quick to deny that they think this means Russia is “innocent or justified”; “to invade another country to seize its assets is egregious,” they write. Still, they advocate centering explanations for the war on its material causes (for example, by framing it as competition over “unfettered access to key transit routes and control of natural resources”). 

While this emphasis on “geopolitical faultlines” won’t persuade everyone (a trigger warning: the article addresses NATO expansion), Herbert and Gigantino observe that resistance to their framing is rooted in part in the fear that “locating rational or structural causes” in Russia’s invasion “complicates the dominant civilizationist narratives in the West (democracy vs. autocracy) as well as the nationalist narratives that prevail.” In other words, it goes against the field’s political message and “manufactured consent,” risking (1) the “disincentivization” of Ukraine’s supporters in the West and (2) career setbacks for any scholars who dispute the paradigm. (In their conclusion, Herbert and Gigantino suggest that a true decolonization of the field would start with scholars interrogating their own “theoretical basis, sources of funding, and political projects.”)

The article also criticizes a specific, albeit unnamed, paper presented at the last ASEEES conference that “used Afro-pessimism to interrogate Soviet anti-racist policy by critiquing Soviet visual representations of blackness.” Herbert and Gigantino don’t name the paper’s author, but they accuse this scholar of relying on “questionable sources analyzed through cultural interpretation that reflect the lived experience of the researcher.” In other words, they write, it’s a “’lost in translation’ process” that imposes a framework rooted in the U.S. experience of racism.

I am still thinking about how I feel about this but I am rather skeptical of some of it, particularly the "centering of material explanations" for the invasion of Ukraine and what seems to be ignoring some rather relevant historical elements in Russia's and the Soviet Union's treatment of and approach towards Ukraine.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Writer Life: Part 2.

Behold!: ALL THE WRITTEN-IN NOTEBOOKS!! These represent ALMOST all the books I've written, which is. Several. I'm up to thirty-six (36) Separate Books (including Versions but not including Revisions--I'm on my four-and-a-half Version of Lucius's story, for example, but that v4.5 went through four rounds of Revision. Four rounds of revision has so far been my cap!).

The first notebook on the bottom left is the Very First Actual Book I Wrote. It's the prototypical Alicia story, completed when I was 12/13! The two stacks next to her are different Versions of that same story (although I've done a lot of her strictly on the computer, so my counts there aren't accurate). To the right of Alicia is my Aschar and Terrwyn stack, and then Will/Edge/Freeze.

Second row from the bottom is: New Canon Lucius, New Bonus Content Lucius (including hell!AU), Crossovers (two in that colorful stack!), Shift, Amyra, and Faultlines.

Third row from bottom: Original Angel Wings, Early Draft Lucius, Oasis; Tornado Riders, and then Average 1, 2, and 3 respectively.

Top row is the newest stuff!: Driscoll gets the first two stacks,then Rell, then my Little Red Riding Hood retelling, The Bitch Journal™, and a stack of random shit where pages are in fact written on. (That bonus floating top row is like. Real Life Journals and such.)

Everything pictured here is used! Most of the notebooks are entirely filled, or on their way to being so. So, yeah, I go through a lot of notebooks, but I really do truthfully go through them, which is neat to see!

I am not, however, immune to the Writer+Notebook problem, which you can see in Part 3!

Part 1 | Part 3

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

I'm the anon that asked if this blog was both jedi and anakin positive. Thanks for the answer, tbh it was because I find sw fans often feel the need to pick a "side", and there's nothing wrong with that in fandom, really- but honestly it is nice to find a blog that doesn't view liking both anakin and the jedi as mutually exclusive.

I feel like I follow a lot of jedi + anakin fan blogs? But curation takes time I suppose. ... a fair amount of obikins like both, i think, which is natural, although I find obikin fanfic a bit hit and miss with jedi bashing too. Not that it's just obikin shippers who like both by any means.

Honestly, I'm probably harder on Anakin than several jedi-positive blogs I can think of.

If anything to me the faultline feels like it lies in the prequels/anakin's story as man vs self or man vs society (can't claim credit for this phrasing). Those who focus on the former may love him or hate him, but they focus on his agency first and foremost either way. But if he is viewed instead as a monster constructed by the world he lives in, then it becomes all about the mistakes and cruelties inflicted upon him by those around him- and that usually includes the jedi to varying degrees. (I should maybe clarify: in this dichotomy i am presenting, to be in the former camp doesn't necessarily mean denying that any injury against him occurred. though i've seen some who kinda do sometimes)

[howlingguardian]

⭐

Hmmm, what to talk about? I know, Interlude 4!

I remember a snippet somewhere that has people assume that when the Palanquin mercenaries aren't around, they're doing something cool offscreen. And since I had plans for them since the early days, I wanted to introduce them in style.

Trainwreck especially was appealing to me. The man's almost a blank slate- I don't think he has any dialogue in canon, we have only a few Word of God statements for his personality. At the same time, he's fascinating- the only Case 53 Tinker we see in Worm or Ward.

Putting them together and shaking up their dynamic a little just seemed like a good idea. Of course, I also wanted to make the meeting seem natural. So Faultline is deliberately seeking out an unattached cape who can relate to several of her crew, and playing that connection up to appeal to him. As opposed to Elpis recruiting people almost entirely by accident.

I've got more plans for Palanquin later in the story- at least one more interlude showing their shenanigans- but this was a pretty damn good start if I do say so myself.

[parragone]

Fuck it, I can't decide what to write for nanowrino so I'm taking the decision out if my hands. This is a poll to help me decide which of these concepts to commit to; if you like, you can vote based on vibes, but there's gonna be a synopsis/explanation of each under the cut.

Scarlet Signs - Sci fi rough draft of chaos nonsense

I don't have names for the space species, yet, so just be forgiving okay

In essence, humanity joins the Galactic Assembly, and the pacifist psychic space vampires are one of their only outright allies. The unicorns have never liked the vampires because the vampires practice isolationism, pacifism, and don't like to share their research or their military support. Not to mention, the vampires are, you know, vampires that consume thought and concepts in order to sustain themselves. Unicorns feed on blood, but that's fine since obviously they only feed on non sentient beings, and the vampires have to feed on conscious thought. Humans come under the protections of the vampires, unicorns, start shit, and unicorns find out that the vampires are pacifist for everyone else's sake rather than their own.

Expressways - zombie post apoc, but like, a long time since the fall and zombies are just a thing the same way stray/outdoor cats are a thing

Every child from coast to coast knows the story; in the aftermath of plague, infighting, and the emergence of the Pests, the old Pony Express was reinstated to handle package and letter delivery so as to spare the use of fuel and keep the continent as intact as possible. It's not an easy job, but every courier is provided for and deeply respected by those they deliver for. Fewer people sign up to learn the routes each year, but even one courier is better than none.

Jethro, Maverick, and Harper have been couriers for nearly thirty years each. When they stop in for their latest deliveries, a pair of fresh faces are handed off to them to learn their first routes. Colt and Montana learn how to deal with each other, why no courier travels alone, and how to best avoid a Pest nest.

Halls of Hexes - magic academy where magic is taught and students don't usually die.

Mostly fixated on the teachers of the school as they try to handle an encroaching eldritch horror that really shouldn't be there. Magic beyond minor levitation or very simple enchantments is cast using a focus that's personalized to each individual. Magical creatures such as fairies, elves, angels, demons, centaurs, etc. are treated as citizens of the magical world, and several classes have magical creature teachers. Magic is just a normal part of life and while some choose to pursue it, most people just go about normal lives by choice.

Skyreach Academy has maintained a position of academic prestige on the global stage for generations, with particular pride regarding their extensive programs on Vile and Etheric magics. This position is upheld by excellent staff, along with the small town of Elkmarrow, which provides support for the students and faculty within the academy.

Magic, however, can draw in strange and unwelcome visitors. Practiced and versed magicians know that all magic runs the risk, so when no one in the school can find their reflections in mirrors or puddles, the best among them set to work. The safety of the students, of course, remains of the utmost importance - even if the students seem to delight in the fact the professors are now the ones missing class.

Frontiers and Faultlines - steampunk post apocalypse fun times

Most of the world was decimated save for a handful of cities who managed to build walls, domes, and foundations strong enough to withstand the massive natural disaster which raged beyond their borders. Communication was mainly maintained through rail lines.

Story focuses on Vasev, Absalom, Malory "Mal", and Cantrelle. Absalom and Vasev are scientists, Mal is a bounty hunter, and Cantrelle is an assassin for hire. Vasev and Absalom are trying to get the trains working again after a horrific accident ( read: targeted attack ) mangled the machines. Mal and later Centrelle are handling the rough and tumble "get rid of the ones responsible" side of things.

[nocturnalghoul]

Mushy May Day 31: Reuniting

Nobody can stop me from ending with Frankenghoul OC! This is a piece about them reuniting with their lover in a magic dream, and a token of reconciliation for the clergy.

Mushy May is finally over, but I have had so much fun with it! Thanks again to @forlorn-crows for organizing the event, it has been a blast and I’ve adored both writing it and seeing what all everyone else made!

Also thank you to @askingforthesun for graciously letting me borrow Deo to throw in at the end there. Hope I did right by ya boy!

Words: ~1410 (I edited a few mistakes and am not rerunning the word count)

Rating: T (vague mentions of implied sex but honestly its like one paragraph and I mostly skip over it.)

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

Finally the night the proto-ghoul had been waiting for had arrived. Seeing as the winter solstice was tied to the element of Earth, it was the one night of the year when the magic of that element was the strongest. It also made it the one night when they could reconnect with their love, Kedros, again. 

As they let themselves shift into the dream world, they focused on the residual earth magic deep in their core. It originally was their mate's element, but now that magic was the only remaining physical proof of them having existed at all. 

The physical world faded away as sleep finally gripped the ghoul. Immediately in their dreams a large statically shape of a ghoul began to materialize, flickers of earth magic spilling out of the form through faultline-like fissures shifting ever so slightly. 

There was something about the way the green glow shifted in mesmerizing cracks that let the proto-ghoul know that these solstice nights were the one time these conversations were not simply imagined. On these nights they were talking to the last piece of spirit that remained of their lover. 

“My dove, is it the solstice again already?” the figure exclaimed joyfully as he gradually solidified and took shape. He was still a little fuzzy around the edges, but being able to see their mate once again still left the proto-ghoul breathless, even after all these years. They surged forward, pulling their mate into the tightest hug possible, resting their chin on the top of his head. 

“It doesn’t come often enough, Kedros. I yearn to see you every day and these meager crumbs are nowhere near enough.” they whispered into the top of their mates' hair. 

“I have to say I do appreciate your flair for the dramatic, my dove. You know I am with you always, even if we can only truly reunite on nights such as these.” Kedros mumbles into their mate's neck, attempting to wiggle free slightly to look them in the eye. “Now, it may be the longest night of the year but alas it is only the solitary night. Let’s not waste time on these same sentiments expressed every time for the past two centuries.” 

As Kedros speaks, the black void slowly melts away leaving the two in a small clearing of a thick forest. He pulls his love with him to sit under a clearing to curl up. The two get to talking and it is like no time has passed at all. The conversation flows free and easy until the words falling past their lips gently fade away. Each returning sentiment falling faintly quieter causing the two ghouls to lean a little closer to one another until eventually those lips meet.

It starts slow, the most saccharine of gentle kisses with hands roaming just for the sake of being close to one another, then gradually turning to so much more. The pent up desperation of only seeing one another one day a year hitting them both. The speed and ferocity with which the two ghouls rip each other's clothes off leaves shreds of cloth littered all around them like discarded wrapping paper. As they continue to pick up speed, elemental energy starts to crackle around them, building to a crescendo alongside the two ghouls. 

“That is not how it once was, however I guess it suffices” the proto-ghoul teases breathlessly afterwards, taking in the several leveled trees around them. 

“Maybe so, but you are not the ghoul you once were either my dear.” Kedros shoots back, a wave of sorrow sliding across his face before he purposefully shifts it into a warm smile. 

“Speaking of that, I’ve decided to implore you to let go of some of that rage in your heart. It has been two centuries, surely the church has learned from their mistakes.” he continues on, scanning his lover's face for any sign of a reaction. 

“I- I cannot my dear, not after the way they ripped you from me.” the proto-ghoul laments. They can see the way their mate deflates at the immediate refusal. “I wish I could, but I am unsure of how to do so.”

“I believe in you to do the right thing my dove, no matter how long it takes.” Kedros asserts before laying his head on the proto-ghoul’s chest. 

“Lets not weigh down our limited time with this dour subject any longer. I know you will come around eventually.”

The rest of the remaining evening is spent reminiscing about the past as well as catching up, seemingly better than every time before it. 

Of course all of this was inside a dream, and they both are more than aware that it is the nature of dreams to end. As the proto-ghoul awakes to the first rays of sunlight their mate's plea weighs heavy on their mind still. There is one act of reconciliation that they can think of now that the pleasant warmth of sleep has faded. A gift of information as a token of goodwill.

~~~

Even though the clergy doesn’t want to see them, they see all that the church does from afar. Always lurking along the edges, always watching, keeping a keen eye on proceedings. This is partially out of a concern of safety, but also curiosity. 

They see the results of countless failed rituals performed, so close yet never good enough. They see how it rips the researcher apart, the way he retreats to the library as sanctuary after another wasted attempt, long black hair falling over his face in a wasted attempt to hide the way his makeup smudges with tears. He seems to genuinely care, and not purely in an egotistical “I must be perfect way” that they have grown to expect from higher clergy members. He cares about the resource drain, about discovery, about knowledge, about the pursuit of something more, about… ghouls. 

He is one of the few people in the centuries the proto-ghoul has been living in the woods that seems to actually care for ghouls like peers. 

Watching the librarian fight tears at the latest failure, being led away by the comforting hand of a tall blond, they understand exactly who to give their token of knowledge to. There is no doubt in their mind that gifting this researcher, a fellow academic yes, but also a man with so much love and compassion inside of him this act of goodwill is the correct course of action. 

The proto-ghoul sneaks a plain envelope onto the librarian’s desk while he is out later that evening with an invitation to meet at the edge of the woods at midnight. Whether or not the man will show up is questionable, but for the first time in forever they feel hope. 

He sees the man saunter up to the designated meeting point, as slowly steps out of the shadows in an attempt to give him a chance to adjust to their appearance and intimidating size. They search the man’s face for any signs of judgment, contempt, or pity, but all they find is eyes full of compassion and a barely contained excited smirk. 

“Brother Asmodeo, yes? Please allow me to state my piece without interruption so that we may both continue on with our respective nights.” they start apprehensively, but the man simply nods kindly and leans back against a tree to listen. 

“I know that my reputation must precede me, so I am… grateful to say the least that you are willing to meet with me, an alleged monster, at such an eerie hour. It shows great testament to your character. I would like to present you with this journal.” 

As they hand the journal over to the librarian he starts flipping through it, brow furrowing in concentration as he attempts to parse what all it contains. 

“I believe you might find this useful to put together the last piece of the puzzle you seem to be lacking for that ritual. Consider it an apology for past transgressions that I wish to finally put to rest. I am doing so to honor a past love, so I would wish you to find the love I have felt as a final token, but I get the feeling that it surrounds you already. Goodnight sir, I do hope the notations serve you well.” 

Before Deo even gets the chance to look up and say something to the proto-ghoul they are already gone, leaving him to go back to his study and devour the knowledge inside the tome.

[v1leblood]

i have a really simple faultline ask to answer but i have such severe brain fog

[inparenth]

"Briseis" and Other Works by R. Stimac

"Briseis" and Other Works by R. Stimac

Richard Stimac has published a poetry book Bricolage (Spartan Press), over forty poems in Michigan Quarterly Review, Faultline, and december, and others, nearly two-dozen flash fiction in Blue Mountain, Good Life, Typescript, and several scripts. He is a poetry reader for Ariel Publishing and a fiction reader for The Maine Review. Briseis The Iliad commenced with a rape,though you’re sore to…

[wynjournal]

Questions

This is an interview with one of the guys from Matt Flood's old band, Silhouettes, from early March, 2015. For some reason, the actual link to this interview doesn't work anymore( even thought it did this morning), so I had to take my chances with the Wayback Machine. But anyway, the original link had a band photo that obviously featured OUR Matt Flood, so I know this is it.

Matt has said that when Silhouettes broke up, he didn't do anything musically for several years, until he was asked by Chris McIntosh to join his and Benji Wilson's band. (According to the lore, Chris and Benji were in a band called Faultlines and they chose to dissolve and start over when their singer left.) In this interview, Matt actually says it was 5 or 6 years, where he didn't do anything musically at all. However, if I'm not mistaken, it's also been said that Chris and Benji knew they wanted to work with him because of a show they saw, presumably in 2017 with Silhouettes. Caskets was formed, as "Captives" in 2018. And as I said, the Silhouettes interview I linked above is from 2015... So where is that 5 or 6 year period where Matt's not doing anything musically?

In that Caskets interview, he specifically said it was 5 or 6 years, where he'd quit music "all together", and I'm just a little confused on that, because there's not a 5 or 6 year span between Silhouettes being active and him joining Caskets. If Silhouettes broke up in 2015, which I don't think they did, that would only be 3 years until 2018.

Incidentally, here is the tumblr for Faultlines, and an interview with them as well.

[huntingtonnow]

Melville Proposal Reveals Town Board Faultlines

Editor’s Note:  Despite having unanimous control of the Huntington Town Board, Republican members are at odds with each other on a major development issue, with one member calling for a law enforcement investigation.  We have received numerous calls, texts and emails in the last several days, asking why we and other news organizations have not published information contained in the following…