#techno kaleidoscope

[gregoryvincent7]

about last year…by @colosseumjkt 🙌🏻🙌🏻 . . #GregLiaison #colosseumjkt #jakarta #party #jakartaparty #dj #indoclubbers #indoclubbing #indonightclub #trance #trancefamily #techno #house #edm #dancemusic #kaleidoscope #kaleidoscope2022 #happynewyear #happynewyear2023 #selamattahunbaru #selamattahunbaru2023 #artistliaison #liaisonofficer #artisthandling #2023 (at Colosseum Jakarta) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnHiv3pyroQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[lookinghalfacorpse]

pushing my agenda of c!dream’s chat as butterflies

-fully clad in netherite armor, stalking forward with long proud strides and his chin up.  dream is almost completely covered from head to toe, a mask on his face and his hood up.  trailing close behind him is a fluttering cloud of butterflies.  one has landed on his shoulder, another on his wrist.  one will fly off the blade of his axe as soon as he raises it.  he’s so used to them he doesn’t seem to notice.

-they gather when he sleeps, perching around his bed and resting on him.  flying above his face, riding on his gentle breaths.  george used to watch them, wondering how their little feet didn’t wake him.

-when they’re upset with him, they ram their delicate bodies against his mask.  the constant tink tink tink is distracting, and once or twice it actually did direct his attention away from whatever nonsense he was trying to pull.  “i know, i know,” he’ll tell them, “i can’t see when you do that, c’mon.”

-sam found one in the prison lobby once.  he’s not sure how they keep finding their way inside.  quackity will tear its wings off if he sees it.

-they land on techno’s arms, grasping the fur on his forearms.  he talks to them in a low voice, the way he talks to all the other animals.

-a hoard of butterflies on his shoulders as he limps through the forest, holding onto the thin and near-ruined prison uniform.  their wings flap in intervals, as though trying to keep him upright.  if he collapses, they ram his face until he wakes.

-quackity sees a beautiful, shimmering, blue butterfly resting against the facade of the casino.  it’s alone, which is odd-- usually there’s a whole kaleidoscope of them when he’s nearby.  maybe he’s trying to be discreet.  quackity crushes it under his thumb, slowly and deliberately.  if he’s being watched, he doesn’t want to look afraid.

-a purple one lands on sam’s finger as he’s jotting down notes for a new machine.  he watches it, stretching and shifting the digit below it to watch how it moves with him.  there’s an empty cup on the desk beside him-- he thinks about trapping it underneath.

-(he does, and he keeps it there for a while.  it flutters around inside the glass and its wings catch the light-- it’s distractingly pretty.  he releases it outside.)

-a purple butterfly returns back to dream and lands on the tip of his nose.  jokingly, he scolds it for taking so long.  he isn’t surprised that the blue one hasn’t come back, but he knew this one might.

[beasiannow]

Betty Jane Smith: Before

Below Biju Jie Satō : At the start of her adventure

A mysterious science group in Japan has come up with an idea to get visitors to Tokyo to stay longer and have a more profound visit at the same time.

They have invented a machine that, at a quantum level, turns foreigners from outside Japan into true citizens of Tokyo physically and mentally for a whole week. Next, they put these machines into vending machines around Toyko (because they also own a snack food company).

Here, we see Betty Jane Smith from Chicago, Illinois, who, to her shock and surprise, has been turned into a Japanese woman who lives on Harajuku Street. What happens next?

Betty Jane Smith, once a Chicagoan, now stands on Harajuku's bustling streets—a bewildering and exhilarating metamorphosis. The quantum machine’s hum still resonates in her ears, its invisible tendrils weaving her essence into the very fabric of Tokyo.

Monday: The Awakening Betty blinks, her eyes adjusting to the neon kaleidoscope. The air smells of sweet crepes and cherry blossoms. She glances down at her transformed self: a Japanese woman with raven hair adorned by an oversized bow. Her kimono whispers secrets of centuries past, threads of tradition woven into its silk.

The locals pass by, unfazed by her sudden appearance. They, too, wear their eccentricities—their neon hair, platform shoes, and glittering accessories. Betty’s heart races. She’s no longer a tourist; she’s a resident. The vending machines beckon, offering matcha lattes and rainbow sodas. She hesitates, then selects a can of sakura-flavored tea. The taste blooms on her tongue—a memory she never had.

Tuesday: Lost in Translation Betty navigates the labyrinthine streets, her Japanese fluency a patchwork quilt of phrases. She stumbles upon a cat café, where feline eyes regard her with ancient wisdom. She orders a latte and pets a calico named Tora. The café owner winks, as if knowing her secret. Betty wonders: Is she the only quantum convert?

Wednesday: Harajuku Fashionista Betty embraces her new identity. She shops at Takeshita Street, donning Lolita dresses and fishnet stockings. Her reflection surprises her—a fusion of Betty and Tokyo’s spirit. She poses for photos with tourists, their smiles genuine. She’s no longer an outsider; she’s part of the Shibuya crossing, a pixel in the city’s heartbeat.

Thursday: Shrine Whispers At Meiji Shrine, Betty prays for clarity. The torii gates frame her uncertainty. She asks the kami: Why her? The wind rustles the sacred trees, and a paper fortune flutters—a mix of kanji and English. “Embrace the ephemeral,” it reads. Betty laughs. She’s living a haiku, seventeen syllables of wonder.

Friday: Neon Dreams Betty dances at a techno club, her pulse synced to the neon strobes. She meets Yuki, a fellow quantum traveler. They share stories over sake—Yuki from Birmingham, Alabama, Betty from Chicago. They laugh about their borrowed lives, the transient magic. Yuki whispers, “We’re stardust, Biju-san. Here today, gone tomorrow.”

Saturday: The Farewell As the week wanes, Betty stands at the quantum machine. Its hum beckons her back to Illinois. She gazes at Harajuku’s lights—their ephemeral brilliance. Yuki hugs her, and they exchange email addresses. “Remember,” Yuki says, “Tokyo lives in you now.”

And so, Betty steps into the quantum stream, her heart a constellation of memories. Chicago awaits, but Tokyo lingers—a neon imprint on her soul. She boards the plane, her bow slightly askew, and whispers, “Sayonara, Harajuku.”

The science group’s experiment succeeded: Betty Jane Smith, once a foreigner, leaves Tokyo as a citizen of dreams.

[turnthemasunder-if]

May The Best Lover Wins

So my Readers it has come to my attention that Daddy Charles got so many followers(Simps more like it lol!) and I intend to remedy that with these snippets. So I hope you enjoyed this snippet featuring Chase our downtown horny Lycan boy ;) Oh its a bit NSFW btw under the cut. Song

(Chase's POV)

In the heart of the pulsating nightclub, the infectious beat of the club techno jazz reverberates through your very being. The air is electrified with anticipation, as the blinding lights dance and morph, casting a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors that paint the atmosphere. With eyes fixated on the spectacle before you, you stand in the corner, a silent observer of the chaotic symphony unfolding.

The dance floor is a swirling mass of bodies, a mesmerizing pandemonium of movement and energy. Each individual becomes intertwined with another, lost in the rhythm and the shared ecstasy of the moment. As you inhale deeply, a cacophony of scents wafts through the air, a heady mixture of sweat, perfume, and the unmistakable allure of desire.

Deep within the depths of your being, a primal beast stirs, demanding to be sated. It yearns for the raw and carnal pleasures of the flesh, its hunger insatiable and unyielding. The thumping bass resonates within you, echoing the pounding of your own heart, as the beast within claws at your every fiber, urging you to succumb to its desires or to simply put it wants to fuck!

The atmosphere is charged with tension, as if the very air crackles with the anticipation of unleashed passions. The room feels alive, pulsating with a frenetic energy that ignites the senses. You can almost taste the heat in the air, feel the electricity coursing through your veins, and hear the collective gasps and moans that rise and fall like waves crashing against the shore.

And sooner your eyes land on a certain woman sitting on the bar, and without knowing her or hearing her, she catches your eye. You find yourself drawn to her, fascinated by the way her fingers lightly dance along the rim of her glass. She wears a knowing smile on her lips, as if she's challenging you to get lost in her world, a world that you suddenly ache to explore. Your desire rises within you like a wildfire, fueled by the frenzy surrounding you and the uninhibited desires of the music.

It's a volatile cocktail that can explode at any moment, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if tonight will be the night when all your pent-up frustrations are finally set free. As the woman's gaze meets yours, a primal thrill runs through you, and you sense that she is waiting for you to make a move. With your heartbeat thundering in your ears, you will your feet to carry you toward her, suddenly aching for a taste of this otherworldly creature before you.

Slowly, you approach her, letting your eyes wander over her shapely figure, savoring every dip and curve of her body. Her eyes are a startling shade of blue, rimmed with dark, smoky makeup, and they burn into you, daring you to take what you want. As the pulsing beats continue to swell around you, your gaze slides down her neck, following the graceful slope of her throat to where her breasts sit tantalizingly beneath her silky shirt.

The hunger that has been brewing within you all night intensifies, and you know that you need to find some form of release or risk exploding like a grenade. "Hey there gorgeous!" you wink at her and sitting beside her. "What can I treat you into tonight?" you lick your lips at her, not taking your eyes off hers. "Get me anything you want," she purrs, eyes twinkling in the strobe lights, giving you a kinky grin. "Bartender give me your best!" you wave the bartender offer and he begins to prepare drinks.

You can feel the sexual tension in the air, swirling like a mini-hurricane, ready to strike. While the bartender fixes your drinks, you notice a slight stain of lipstick on her glass and slowly slip your finger on the dirty wet place she just put her luscious lips. When the bartender arrives with the drink, he asks her, "Do you need an ice?" "Of course," she grabs a little ice cube out and throws it down on her shirt. On top of that, she turns to the right to give you a fabulous view of her breast, and you got this beautiful sight of her well-endowed cleavage.

Without hesitation, you watch her feed your drink a naughty bit of finger licker goodness. "I can give you more," you say, lust building up in your throat. This whole idea seems like it's on auto-play now, this kind of hook-ups its child play to you now how many times have you done these? 15…20 or is it 30? No matter! It means that your a pro and a pro that will get his reward after this sensual hour is over. She touches your chest and teases you with those flirtatious words while those other girls stand by, watching your exchange with interest it seems the two of you are garnering an audicence. "Hey fancy a dance?" you ask the girl, still calling her girl because you didn't really care about her name, after this night you will forget her.

"Thought you never ask!" the girl said, seizing yo With the alcohol swirling in your blood and a vision of the hot girl swaying her hips to the beat, the thoughts running through your head are wicked and sinful. Your dick is already straining against your pants, a steady throb that tells you that tonight is the night when you're going to unleash it. As she coaxes you to grab her breasts, you close your eyes for a moment, imagining what it's like to have them in your hands, how they feel.

The pounding bass reverberated through the dimly lit club, filling the air with an electric energy. Bodies swayed and moved in sync with the music, lost in the euphoria of the night. You were in your element, dancing with a beautiful girl who had caught your eye. The connection between you was palpable, her laughter and carefree spirit infectious.

But amidst the pulsating lights and rhythmic beats, a familiar presence intruded upon your blissful moment. A growl emanated from deep within you as you recognized the source of the disturbance. Tarnish, your friend and constant thorn in your side, had somehow managed to worm their way into your carefully crafted plan. "Chase is that you?"

"Who let them in here?" you thought, frustration seeping through your words. This was always bound to happen. Tarnish was like a magnet for chaos, forever on the verge of ruining your carefully orchestrated schemes.

"Miss me, you did miss me?" Tarnish chuckled, positioning themselves between you and the girl. "Ya know I'm a bit busy!" you point your eyes towards the girl. She giggles and she shrugs at you. She's interested and doesn't care about your friend or their bullshit as long as they're not stopping your party. You can't blame her. She can easily find a willing man after you fail to deliver, with a package like that she wound't even sweat.

"Go away, Tarnish!" you exclaimed, attempting to maintain your composure and keep up with the pulsating beat. But Tarnish was relentless, refusing to take the hint. They started to dance along with the two of you, a mischievous grin on their face.

"You know, Chase, I really need to talk to you," Tarnish said, their smile masking a hint of seriousness in their eyes. You sneered and clenched your fists, not in the mood for any kind of discussion. Tarnish, however, remained unfazed, their smile unwavering.

"Huh, well I'm not in the mood for talking, so get the fuck away!" you spat, your frustration boiling over. But Tarnish persisted, their determination evident in their unwavering gaze.

"Now, Chasey my love, I think we're beyond that. So we're just going to talk," Tarnish and grins that asshole-smile of theirs. As if to put emphasis on what they mean, their eyes flicker to your fists that's begging to land on their face.

"You two are exes or something?" the girl asked, her irritation palpable.

"No… No… NO!" Panic surged through you as you realized your so close, so close to hitting home and Tarnish just waltz in and need to ruin everything. "Nope, I don't even know them," you lied desperately, hoping to salvage the situation.

Without warning, you threw a punch at Tarnish, but they anticipated your move and deftly blocked it. "Good, now let's talk," they said, their voice calm but firm.

"We are in the middle of something!" you hissed, your voice barely a whisper as you fought to maintain some semblance of control. The girl watched the scene unfold, torn between intervening or stepping back. Her lips were pursed, her eyes darting between you and Tarnish, a potent mix of annoyance and intrigue in her gaze.

Tarnish, undeterred, continued to hold your gaze, their face a mask of concentration. With surprising strength, they grabbed you and pulled you closer, invading your personal space.

"C'mon, Chase, what does the girl have that I don't?" Tarnish taunted, their voice filled with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

This caught you off guard. "What?!"

Confusion washed over you, and you stared at them, studying their face for any sign of a joke. Slowly, you noticed a glimmer in their eye, a smirk tugging at the corners of their lips. "What the fuck are you talking about, Tarnish?" you asked, your voice laced with disbelief.

Your confusion is like a tangled web, woven with irritation that prickles beneath your skin. It's hard to believe that they could be serious. They couldn't be. They must be joking, just messing around. But as you glance at their face, the way their chest rises and falls with each breath, you begin to doubt your initial assumption. Their words hang in the air, heavy with expectation.

"Yeah, you heard me," they say, their voice laced with a hint of challenge. "What do those girls have that I don't?"

You roll your eyes, frustration simmering in your veins. Tonight is not the night for their games. "You're kidding, right? Why are you doing this?" you retort, your voice dripping with exasperation.

A mischievous smirk dances on their lips, mischief glinting in their eyes. Their question hangs in the air, pregnant with possibilities. "Hmm…Is it bad if I was to kiss you right now?" A momentary tightening in your chest hits you like a sudden blow, catching you off guard. Is Tarnish serious?

Before you can utter a word, they pull you closer, their lips crashing against yours with a fierce intensity that ignites a fire deep within. Time seems to freeze as you stand there, caught in the whirlwind of emotions. One moment, you were simply enjoying a night at the nightclub, partying with a cute chick, and the next, you find yourself swept up in a passionate embrace that leaves you breathless and bewildered.

Tarnish, ever the tease, pulls back, leaving you yearning for more. "Now, how about that talk? I hope this can change your mind," they say, their voice husky and dripping with desire, their tongue darting out to lick their lips. With a firm grip, they pull you to your feet, leading you away from the crowd and towards the open balcony just outside the bar.

Your head spins from the whirlwind of emotions, and as you glance to your side, you realize that the girl you were with has vanished, perhaps growing bored and seeking someone more enticing. It dawns on you that you are now free for the night, caught in a web of uncertainty and exhilaration.

Together, you and Tarnish make your way to the balcony, the cool evening air washing over you, as if trying to clear the fog in your mind. The night sky stretches above, adorned with a million twinkling stars, while the full moon casts a soft, silvery glow across the city. It's a scene straight out of a dream, a backdrop that heightens the drama unfolding between you.

"You know," you say, a crooked smile tugging at your lips, "you really just stole my chance back there."

Tarnish smirks, shaking their head. "Sorry…not sorry? I just couldn't take it anymore. But this talk is not about me," they reply, their voice a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

A chuckle escapes your lips, a release of tension that lingers in the air. The events of the evening have left you on the edge, uncertain yet exhilarated. You take a deep breath, the world around you seeming to pulsate with an electric energy that you can't quite grasp.

As your mind races to make sense of everything, you can't help but feel a thrill in the air. There's something unspoken, something electric between you and Tarnish. It's a connection that defies explanation, leaving you breathless and craving more.

The heaviness settled in your stomach, a knot forming as the reality of what had just transpired hit you in waves. The sensation of the kiss, the way Tarnish had looked at you with those intense eyes, the way their lips had tasted, it was all surreal, like a dream.

"So what were we gonna talk about?" you asked, trying to ground yourself in reality.

Tarnish took a sip of their glass, a mischievous glint in their eyes. They always seemed to have something up their sleeve, their hands quick and proficient. It was a skill you admired, but also a little wary of. How quick and proficient could they really be? It was a theory you didn't mind them testing, but importantly you want them to test it on you..

"Oh, that?" Tarnish chuckled. "That's just an excuse so I can prevent you from getting laid!"

Your arms crossed, anger bubbling up inside you. "Seriously? I thought it was a matter of emergency!" you exclaimed, the frustration evident in your voice.

Tarnish simply swirled their drink, the ice clinking against the glass. "What can I say? Uncle's orders! Besides, you seem to be more entertained by being single all the time anyway."

The words stung, a mix of jealousy and annoyance welling up within you. "Are you jealous? Because you know I can fix that up for you in an instant!" you retorted, a flirtatious tone laced with anger.

Tarnish only smirked, their eyes glimmering with a hint of mischief. "Nah, I'm good. Besides, no one is ever good enough for me. So I need you to be the best for me, at it!"

The night grew darker, and despite your inner disgust at Tarnish's words, you couldn't deny the truth in them. They were one to hold their cards close to their chest, revealing just enough to keep you intrigued. And you couldn't help but notice the hints they dropped, suggesting that your role in their life was greater than they let on.

You looked at Tarnish, surprise evident on your face. "So how are you suggesting it?"

"You know what I'm trying to say, Chase," Tarnish replied, their eyes lighting up with mischief. "We've always been each other's special helper, so to speak."

Your heart raced, the implications hitting you like a ton of bricks. Could this be real? Could Tarnish and I…

"Besides, you're the only one who truly knows me, Chase. You know what I want, and you know what I like."

You squirmed in your seat, the double entendre sending a rush of heat through your body. Their eyes burned into you, and suddenly it all became crystal clear. Tarnish desired you.

Your mind spun, the weight of this moment taking its toll. Your gaze involuntarily flicked to their lips, remembering how soft they were when they kissed you. The desire to taste their sweet nectar overwhelmed you. But just as you leaned in, hoping to finally give in to temptation, Tarnish pulled back, denying you pleasure once again.

"Ah…Ah…Ah!" Tarnish playfully wagged their finger, closing one eye. "Chase, I thought you were the King of Love, yet you're so gullible to fall into my charms!" They guffawed at their own joke, reveling in the power they held over you.

"Get out of my mind, Tarnish!" you gasped, your flustered state a mix of newfound desire and frustration.

You stared at Tarnish's neck, imagining the softness of their skin and the taste of their sweet nectar. But Tarnish had other plans. "Let's play a game, shall we?" they offered, a wicked glint in their eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical yet intrigued. "What kind of game?"

"Let's charm and swoon some gals and guys back at the club, and see who can gather the most numbers," Tarnish proposed, gulping down their drink in one motion.

"What are we, kids? This is not a game!" you shook your head in disappointment.

Tarnish's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Okay then! Let's make it interesting. The winner gets to make the loser do whatever they want for a whole day."

A wicked glint in their eyes, Tarnish knew they had piqued your interest. "Alright, you're on! But remember, it's my game, and I've known you for a long time," you said with a proud smile.

"Same goes for me! Let's begin!" they say and giving you a playful wink. The hours passed quickly. The air is charged with excitement. You and Tarnish have worked out a system: one signals for a number, the other secures it. It's a blur of smiles and flirtations, of shy winks and coy smirks. You meet their eyes, catching the mischievous gleam in their irises, and it's as if you two are having a silent conversation. It's exhilarating and addictive, and you realize that Tarnish might have a point.

You watched Tarnish moved, their charm and ease making you wonder why you hadn't just walked up to them instead. They are truly a force to be reckoned with. The way they held the other's attention, the way they made every little gesture seem so effortless and natural. You couldn't help but be in awe of them.

As the night dragged on, you realized that you were both getting close. You could feel the same growing tension in the air. With each phone number secured, the stakes climbed. It was no longer about who had the highest number. It was now about who could make the person in front of them laugh the loudest or blush the hardest. And you couldn't help but feel a little guilty when you saw how good Tarnish was at this game.

Then you came to an inevitable conclusion. You would never win. Not without Tarnish. You would always come up short in comparison to them. They knew how to tease and flirt and use their body language to their advantage. And you? Well, you're a master of your craft but Tarnish? They're on another level. As you watched them work their magic on some random guy or gal, you felt a strange knot forming in your stomach. You couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but it didn't feel like jealousy. It felt more like…

Longing?…Passion?…Regret? You weren't sure.

But whatever it was, it was clear that you weren't going to win this game. Which meant you had to take matters into your own hands. So you took a deep breath and mustered your courage. After all, what was the worst that could happen? "Hold on there, buster! My little monster?" Tarnish stared at you, a look of shock on their face. "What?" they asked.

"You heard me! Since you were so insistent on us doing something fun together and we ended up playing this…game! So I suggest we finish it up and go somewhere fun!" you offer, watching their expression closely.

"I see…Well, as much as I hate to agree, you've got a point!" they chuckle softly. "Plus the party's dying down, so where you in the mood for something more…intimate?"

Their gaze was locked on yours, their lips slightly parted. "Intimate… as in what?" they asked, their voice dropping an octave.

Your heart leapt in your chest. "As in getting a dance?" you say of all the things you said dance? Damn Tarnish are getting to your head. "Dance huh? I guess the party can be used some livening up from us!" they smiled devilishly.

It's time for the chase to become the hunted. Slowly but surely, you pull Tarnish towards you, and to your surprise, they don't resist. In fact, they lean in closer, until you can feel their breath on your lips. You can't resist it. You want to kiss them so badly it hurts. Without thinking, you dive forward and trying to capture their lips in a fierce kiss.

Yet they evaded and using your momentum pulled you into a dip, one hand on your back and on the other well travelling to your lower extremities. "Getting stiff are we?" they grabbed your (achem) aching need and Tarnish let out a soft chuckle at the noise that escapes your lips.

As they pressed themselves against your erection, your body was already flooding with sensation. Before you knew it, Tarnish pulled you up and spins you around. You stumbled, dazed and confused by the sudden turn of events. "You okay there baby?" Tarnish teased, giving you a wink before moving closer.

"Okay you need to stop with the foreplay!" you groaned at them.

"Buttttt…I'm just getting started!" they teased and grabbed ahold of you, their fingers trailing dangerously low on your abdomen.

And in an instant, your inhibitions disappeared. You forgot where you were, forgot what you were doing. The only thing that mattered was this moment, this feeling. "Tarnish…" you whispered breathlessly, not even caring what you were saying.

Your eyes locked with theirs, and suddenly you saw that familiar glint in their eyes. They were enjoying this as much as you were, savoring every moment. "Yessssss?" they purr.

"You need to stop being such a tease and just get to it already!" you pleaded, frustrated by their lingering touches and deft maneuvers.

They chuckled, clearly pleased by your response. "Welllllll…considering you asked so nicely…" They pulled you in close, their lips grazing your ear. "I won't keep you waiting any longer…"

Then they cupped your face, eyes locked and begin to lean clsoer and they did it again, by bopping your nose. "Boop!" they say, enjoying torturing you like this. Before you could utter a word, they had you pinned down, their arms above your head, their lips skimming yours, their eyes gleaming with a mischievous glow. You could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage, your breath catching in your throat, and the heat rising in your cheeks.

However, as they drew closer, their eyes flicked to yours, and you saw the laughter in them. "That's not funny!" you hissed, wishing they would stop teasing you like this. "Your right its hilarious!" they step back and giving you room to breath and subside that needed subsiding.

You were annoyed, even though you knew that was their intention. You wanted to be mad, to rage against their mischief, but you found yourself admiring them instead. They had a way of drawing you in, captivating you, enthralling you.

Without thinking, you grabbed a fistful of their shirt and pulled them towards you, holding them by the waist. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, you forgot to breathe. Slowly, they leaned closer, their lips mere inches from yours. And then, they placed a soft kiss on your cheek, their lips brushing yours.

It was a whisper, a ghost of a touch. But it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You shuddered, your fingers clutching their shirt, your heartbeat quickening. And then, they pulled back, their eyes smoldering.

Your breathing was ragged, your pulse racing, your desire threatening to overcome you. "Your too hasty young man!" they tease their lips pressed to your ear, their tongue darting out to lick the shell of your ear.

Unable to speak, unable to move, you let them have their way with you. Their lips continued to caress your ear, their breath hot and heavy. "I guess you do want me…" they whisper, their voice low and sultry.

You didn't know how to respond. You didn't even know if you could. Your body was on fire, your heart about to explode. "Buttt!" with quick and strong hands they pry theirselves from your grip. "Its a bit to soon!" they wink at you and leaning their weight to one leg. "I'm only here to babysit and maybe potentially tell you that below this club there's a feeding den that needs to be destoryed!" they say conspirationaly.

"Seriously now!" you exclaim while trying to compose yourself after what just happened. "Let me take you to a different kind of den that's full of lust and sex!" you offer since you're not exactly ready for anything heavy after what just happened. "Sounds promising but we have other things to take care of!" they say putting their hand behind their back and starting to walk backwards. "B-but what about my prize?!" you raise a brow at them.

"Our deal was that if I win you do anything I want and so far you've just been chasing my butt." They shrugged.

You groaned, wanting to pull out your hair. This can't be happening. "I can't believe you're just gonna walk away now."

"We can always continue this game later, right?" they teased, flashing you that annoying smirk.

Suddenly, a thought crossed your mind. "Wait! You really mean it?" you asked, raising your eyebrows at them.

They chuckled. "That depends…are you willing to work for it?" they said, their tone full of innuendo.

You couldn't help it. You laughed. It was just the way they said it. "You really are the best!" you grinned, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Now that's my good boy!" they say with affection.

So you and Tarnish get down to business flushing out the vampires from below and destroying their mode of business which is well letting people get drained of their blood, no more human batteries for them.

You and Tarnish take care of their operations like a duo. Bits of dust flying here and there, blood splatter on the walls and on your face as you stab a few unlucky vamps. Even the nonliving thing Tarnish even managed to burn a few bodies. It's pure chaos, but you knew what you were doing.

You looked around you, taking in the destruction and mayhem. It felt good to take out these bloodsuckers. But there's more sucking that needs to be down later and that involves you and Tarnish, if they stop playing hard to get that is.

[pixelgrotto]

Cannon Dancin' In The Middle East

If the Strider series represents a Japanese team making a blazing action game set in a Soviet futurescape, then Cannon Dancer is the same but for the Middle East.

Prevously unknown except to the handful of people who either touched the arcade cabinet or downloaded the ROM for MAME, Cannon Dancer flew under the radar for nearly 30 years until it got a surprise remaster earlier this year. I have the pleasure of reporting that Cannon Dancer's 2023 Switch port is just as batshit as the 1996 arcade original, and I'm glad that a wider audience can now experience the joy of an assassin in floopy trousers rampaging through the streets of future Dubai, kicking tigers in the face and battling giant goddesses for control over the planet.

Cannon Dancer is a spiritual successor to the original Strider, made by designer Kouichi Yotsui after he left Capcom and decided to channel the same energy that birthed Strider Hiryu for Mitchell Corporation. He did this despite the fact that arcade platforming action games were pretty much dead in '96, and as a result Cannon Dancer never did well financially. But I doubt that anyone who played this visual kaleidoscope back in the day forgot it. Cannon Dancer bursts with bright colors and killer sprite art, depicting some of the most vibrant levels I've ever seen.

It starts out in Agadan, a cyberpunk UAE-style metropolis on the Persian Gulf, and continues to a temple, a sprawing desert, the Indian Ocean, some forest near Aleppo, Prague, and a weird final level that may or may not take place in the Earth's upper hemisphere, except that it's red and nightmarish instead of freezing cold. Throughout all these arenas, Cannon Dancer's protagonist, a dude named Kirin, exquisitely beats ass by kicking things until they explode and getting powerups that shoot after-images of himself across the screen. How do you know you've gotten a power up? The color of Kirin's pants change. It's great stuff.

Visually, I've appreciated Cannon Dancer's aesthetic ever since I first glimpsed it in emulated screenshots. Just as the Strider series' unusual penchant for Soviet-era futurism feels dated yet novel at the same time, Cannon Dancer's depiction of Western Asia populated by robots, techno troopers, oil rig mechs and pyamids rising above skyscapes is rad. It's rare to get a Japanese game (or any game from the '90s and 2000s, really) that channels the Middle East in a way that isn't just an Arabian Nights retread or some drab, browish setting for world militaries to make a mess in. While I wouldn't exactly call Cannon Dancer's "representation" good, it's at least fun and memorable.

One missed opportunity is that Kirin doesn't appear to be Middle Eastern himself, despite the English version giving him the Turkish name "Osman." (In fact, Cannon Dancer was released outside of Japan as Osman, and the new re-release generously goes by the title Cannon Dancer Osman. But let's be real, Cannon Dancer is 100% the better name.) Instead, he seems to be your usual Japanese action game badass who serves on Teki, a mercenary squad. He takes orders from Jack Layzon, the attorney general of the WORLD who desses like a 1930s gangster, because Cannon Dancer's vision of the future is wild. After a routine mission to take down cultists goes haywire, Kirin is left in the desert to rot and forced to seek revenge on his old Teki comrades and Mr. Layzon. Along the way, the deity Abdullah enslaves him as her personal avatar of justice...until Kirin breaks free and goes to beat the crud out of her as well, presumably becoming a deity himself by the end of the game.

This is my own interpretation of the plot as gathered from the various Cannon Dancer entries on the Strider wiki, by the way. There is a surprising amount of story bubbling around the edges of this game, but it's all stuff cobbled together from interviews or magazine articles. There are actual cutscenes, sure, but they feel like the work of a development team tasked to create a game based on an 80-episode 1995 anime about a cyber ninja in Baghdad that nobody else watched. Obviously, most Japanese games in the '90s had something lost in translation. But Cannon Dancer takes it to a new level, relishing in its incomprehensible nature yet offering the curious a treasure trove of lore if they bother to dig around online. It reminds me of the underrated Strider NES game, which was also baffling yet at least had a manga to fill in the gaps, and I respect it for that.

As far as its status as a Strider spiritual successor goes, I'd say that I actually prefer Cannon Dancer over both Strider 2 and Double Helix's 2014 Strider remix. Those are decent games held back by poor pacing, whereas Cannon Dancer is just as tight as the original 1989 Strider, if not more so thanks to the additional years that Kouichi Yotsui and his team had to improve on gameplay mechanics. And while you could dismiss Cannon Dancer as too much of a clone to win such praise, as some did in the years leading up to its re-release, I think there's more room out there for mashups which can best be described as "neon-drenched Dubai nightlife meets Jojo's Bizarre Adventure." Cannon Dancer is a garish Middle Eastern fever dream, and the world is better off for its existence.

[kvadosh]

brought together this fundraising v.a. compilation along with 7 other fellow artists from around the world

all proceeds from bandcamp sales will be used to provide e-SIMs for the people of Gaza

expect a kaleidoscope of electronic subgenres, spanning from Egyptian Shaabi to hybrid club, experimental techno, sound design and drill

[randomvarious]

Phaedrus - "Tesla" Welcome to the Future 1993 Techno / Acid Techno

Plays: N/A on Spotify // 25 on YouTube

Got another pretty obscure dance banger for you all today, with this exclusive off of a 1993 compilation from Dutch techno label Djax-Up-Beats called Welcome to the Future. The song, "Tesla," is credited to Phaedrus, which is an alias of an eclectic London-born guy named Justin Billinger, who moved to the Netherlands at age 11. Billinger is a classically trained musician who graduated summa cum laude with a degree in composition electronics from the Royal Conservatory of The Hague, and that education has seemingly enabled him to have quite a diverse output of his own, with stuff that ranges from the avantgardist modern classical all the way up to gabber.

But Billinger doesn't appear to have ever had much of a solo career himself, especially in the dance realm. According to Discogs, most of what he's released was made with at least one other person named Michiel Marsman, until his 2018 solo album, Mindfulness, which isn't dance either.

So, that ends up making this song, "Tesla," a doubly rare one, because not only does it currently have just *25* plays on YouTube as I'm writing this post, but it also appears to be the *only* solo dance track that Billinger's ever released in his entire career. And with how good it still manages to sound 30 years later, it might have you wondering why he never released more 🤔.

This track is such an unforgiving, twisting-and-turning journey of early 90s techno intensity. And on top of that, it's a pretty chunky groove too, with deadly combinations of melodic acid—both roundly stabbed and flutteringly wavy—an acid bassline of jagged blurps, and a whole lot of percussion, including a foundational four-on-the-floor kick-drum and the things that really end up making this untamed beast whole: snares and open hi-hats that simply mash. Plus, some quietly placid string pads underneath it all to provide a light contrast to all the rest of the madness, and a little bit of very unexpected hand drum in the second half too.

So, a real foot-stomping, kaleidoscopic acid raver's delight in this tremendous and very unknown techno jam here, which turns out to be the only solo dance tune that this eclectic musician's ever had released. And three decades on, it still goes so satisfyingly hard 😤.

Always love to hear what a formally educated musician can do with dance music and Billinger absolutely dazzled with this one.

[littleakatsuki]

The Moon's Feast

IF AS TRUE A STORY AS I AM ABOUT TO TELL YOU, began an afternoon when the uneven cobblestone paths of the city of Oromoas came to be marked by a turning kaleidoscope of colours beautiful and blasphemous, then the silence was long, insufferable, and a prison to Marquis, the voice of the crowd having been long since lost to him; then indeed have it in mind that he was a short man of five feet eight inches with an elegant style even when he was at work thieving. Also he was barefoot, and at present in the heart of Charmers Cast where the air was full of magic, cool and sweet. And somehow Marquis had gone from an hour to possibly three in and amongst a gallimaufry of competing ads fading in and out and perched atop buildings like gargoyles—HICCUPS, HICCUPS, HICCUPS some screamed—others gliding past or over people, offering fourth dimensional colouration, a distortion in the visual world that flickered at the edges of his vision in waves of curves and angles, lines of light, a sense of artificial personality lurking from whence a little spark of code had sprung, truth and illusion even harder to untangle. But if anything, Marquis was in Charmers because of the obvious line it cast between what was real and what was a lie. The festivities of the moon’s feast had brought Mudalans from far and wide, including many Ar and Rad from across the Viridian sea, as well as those of the neighbouring Uniakke tribes. Visitors surfed the streets with the curious inquisition of children, spellcasts dashed the air, false mages yelled come hither in a way that was full of life, as life was good for profit. The merchant stallmen were still goading and enticing loaded pockets with silk tongues—it was clear that the last seven years had not touched on the desert city.

And: indeed, the Mudalans were quite remarkably without the bloodshed and agonizing conflicts that existed in the west. Its economy, already huge, was growing at the fastest rate of any major nation. She was a paradise built in hell. In times of crisis, the place to flock to. Man, beast, goblin—whoever was attracted by the desert felt that they were returning to tribal, or more shamanic forms of intoxication, where magic generated a primal engagement with nature. The intensity of the shared experience bound the people with a powerful initiatic sense of group identity, that expressed itself in distinctive visual, conceptual, and magical forms. Oromoas was ancient, good and wise, and perhaps too cramped by techno-enhancements, but there was always something more to be said about her. She was dear to Marquis for a reason. He surveyed and measured the streets and found them pleasing to the eye. His home had the best of interests to go along with its people. And there were fewer places left in the world more rooted in the ‘Old Ways’ of which he was still privy.

[localloser]

“This invaluable research tool will hugely expand, update, and perhaps even revolutionize the feminist discourse. It might even be considered a work of conceptual art in itself." —Lucy R. Lippard, author of Six Years: The Dematerialization of the Art Object from 1966 to 1972

“This book served as my doorway to cyberfeminism and I now see what an energetic continent awaits me. Anywhere I stepped it burned my hair off, it’s that brilliantly intense." —Kevin Kelly, founding editor Wired magazine 

In Cyberfeminism Index, hackers, scholars, artists, and activists of all regions, races and sexual orientations consider how humans might reconstruct themselves by way of technology. When learning about internet history, we are taught to focus on engineering, the military-industrial complex, and the grandfathers who created the architecture and protocol, but the internet is not only a network of cables, servers, and computers. It is an environment that shapes and is shaped by its inhabitants and their use.

The creation and use of the Cyberfeminism Index is a social and political act. It takes the name cyberfeminism as an umbrella, complicates it, and pushes it into plain sight. Edited by designer, professor, and researcher Mindy Seu, it includes more than 700 short entries of radical techno-critical activism in a variety of media, including excerpts from academic articles and scholarly texts; descriptions of hackerspaces, digital rights activist groups, and bio-hacktivism; and depictions of feminist net art and new media art. 

Both a vital introduction for laypeople and a robust resource guide for educators, Cyberfeminism Index—an anti-canon, of sorts—celebrates the multiplicity of practices that fall under this imperfect categorization and makes visible cyberfeminism’s long-ignored origins and its expansive legacy. 

“You can use it as a reference, follow a thread, or just access it at random and it delivers wit and wisdom from over three decades of one of the most politically and intellectually challenging movements of our era. What happens between sexed flesh and gendered tech? More than ever we all need to know." —McKenzie Wark, author of A Hacker Manifesto

“This is an archive perfectly suited to its material: at ease with impermanence, richly appreciative of contradiction, and expansive in scope. Mindy Seu and her cohort of collaborators celebrate the polyrhythmic chorus of voices that have made cyberfeminist thought so delightfully difficult to define—and invite new, kaleidoscopic reinterpretations of our last three decades of life online." —Claire L. Evans, author of Broad Band: The Untold Story of the Women Who Made the Internet

“The Cyberfeminism Index celebrates, troubles, and critiques the histories and futures of struggle against networked patriarchy—from its first libidinous eruptions to tenacious tactical disruptions and mutations. For theorists and hegemony hackers alike the Index offers an inspirational and educational resource for the urgent work of glitching and decolonizing intersectional internets now." —Ruth Catlow, founder of Furtherfield 

[delohill]

(via "HexaFlare Kaleidoscope" Coffee Mug for Sale by delohill)

[whanaukaretao]

Bella's story

21 August 2024

I got an idea to use ChatGPT to help me draft some journal entries. It's quite tricky. Here are a couple of versions, focused on the lead up to their wedding. Obviously, it's too wordy and doesn't have the right tone or voice. But I guess it's a start. I will write them myself, and maybe borrow bits from these.

Example 1

September 20, 2584

Dear Diary,

The hyperloop slid into Auckland with a smooth hum, and as the doors opened, I was hit with a wave of sensory overload. The platform was a neon-drenched spectacle, alive with the pulsing glow of holo-ads and the hum of electric vehicles. Skycars streaked overhead, leaving trails of light as they zipped between towering skyscrapers. Below, sleek, autonomous trams glided silently along their magnetic tracks, weaving through the crowded streets. The air was thick with the mingling scents of street food and synthetic ozone, and the chatter of a thousand conversations filled the atmosphere. Everywhere I looked, there were people and robots in constant motion, their silhouettes illuminated by the dazzling array of lights. It felt like stepping into the heart of a living, breathing neon city—both exhilarating and a bit overwhelming. As I stepped onto the bustling platform, I could barely contain my excitement and nerves about what tomorrow will bring.

September 23, 2584

Dear Diary,

Auckland is an electric playground! K Road is a riot of neon, where the streets pulse with holographic ads and the rhythm of techno beats. Hoverboards zip past, weaving through the dense throng of people and robots. The sky is alive with flying taxis and drones, casting shifting shadows across the crowd. Every corner is a sensory overload of vivid lights and street performers. The vibe is both thrilling and overwhelming. Tomorrow, I’ll finally meet Les, and I hope that amidst this electric chaos, our meeting will be a bright spot of connection.

September 25, 2584

Dear Diary,

K Road today was a blaze of neon and energy. The streets buzzed with a mix of humans and robots, their movements synchronized in a pulsating rhythm. Monorails glided overhead, their sleek forms barely making a sound as they sped by. The air was filled with the hum of hovercars and the distant thump of bass from nearby clubs. The city’s heartbeat is a constant, throbbing presence. I’m feeling the weight of being alone here, preparing to meet Les in this swirling vortex of light and sound. I hope our first encounter brings a sense of calm and clarity amidst the city’s vibrant chaos.

September 26, 2584

Dear Diary,

The night before the wedding and K Road is alive with its usual frenzy. Neon lights flash from every surface, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the streets below. The hum of flying vehicles and the distant roar of a nightclub mix with the chatter of people and the whirr of robotic limbs. The city feels like it’s pulsing with its own heartbeat, and there’s a buzz of excitement in the air. I’m both thrilled and anxious as I prepare to meet Les tomorrow. Amidst this high-tech whirlwind, I hope our moment together will be a beacon of warmth and hope.

Example 2 (with robots blended in)

September 20, 2584

Dear Diary,

The hyperloop arrived in Auckland with a sleek whisper, and stepping out, I was engulfed by a sensory storm. The platform buzzed with neon lights and holographic ads that flickered like living art. Robots of every shape and function were everywhere—uniformed police drones patrolling the area, service bots gliding silently by, and streetwalkers adding to the vibrant scene. Hovercars whizzed overhead, casting brief shadows as they passed. The air was a mix of synthetic ozone and street food aromas, punctuated by the hum of electric vehicles. The city feels alive and overwhelming, and as I step into this neon jungle, I’m both excited and nervous about meeting Les tomorrow.

September 23, 2584

Dear Diary,

Auckland’s K Road is a dazzling spectacle of light and life. Neon signs flash over bustling sidewalks where robots and humans move in a constant dance. The police bots, sleek and watchful, hover above the crowd, while service drones deliver packages with precision. Street performers, both human and robotic, add their own rhythms to the mix. The streets are a tapestry of colors and sounds, with monorails gliding overhead and hoverboards weaving through the crowd. I’m still adjusting to this whirlwind of activity. Tomorrow, I’ll meet Les amidst this high-tech frenzy. I hope our encounter will bring a sense of calm in the midst of the city’s electric chaos.

September 25, 2584

Dear Diary,

K Road today was a neon storm of energy and motion. The sidewalks thrummed with activity—homeless robots huddled in makeshift shelters, servers offering their services with programmed charm, and streetwalkers displaying an array of colors and lights. Monorails swooshed above, while autonomous vehicles zipped by, barely touching the ground. The air was alive with the hum of tech and the bass from nearby clubs. I’m feeling a mix of excitement and solitude as I prepare to meet Les tomorrow. In this whirlwind of flashing lights and robotic presence, I hope our meeting will stand out as a moment of genuine connection.

September 26, 2584

Dear Diary,

The night before the wedding and K Road is electric as ever. Neon lights blaze, illuminating robots in every conceivable role—from police bots keeping an eye on the crowd to service bots navigating the busy streets. Street performers, both human and robotic, bring their own vibrant flair to the scene. Hovercars and drones fill the sky, adding to the city’s pulse. I’m a bundle of nerves and excitement as I prepare to meet Les tomorrow. Amidst this cacophony of lights and sounds, I hope our wedding will be a bright spot of warmth and joy.

[thedailyfrequency]

Shae District On New Single ‘Devotion,’ Playing Electric Forest, & More

Shae District, the rising electronic duo consisting of Debjit Das and Andrew Parpart, have been making waves in the dance scene with their immersive kaleidoscopic sound. Fusing elements of trance, techno, house, rock, and electronica into one, the Denver based duo creates music that not only transcends genres but fills your soul with intoxicating euphoria.  After dropping their highly acclaimed…

[moochilatv]

Yulo X presents: AMOR

Love Love Love with electronic vibes from Berlin

This song have a Caribou influence.

- Mixed by Tian Karl - Mastered by Sam Irl - Label: Superego Records

Yulo X, the latest project by Berlin-based music producer Felix Neumann, showcases a captivating blend of electronica, imbued with melodic and ambient elements, and occasional forays into various electronica genres - from house to techno, garage and dubstep. Stepping into Yulo X's domain is like floating into a space where the lush, melodic essence of Max Cooper meets the vibrant, pulsating energy of Caribou, dancing with the enigmatic, shadowy grooves of Floating Points. Yet, in the kaleidoscopic soundscape of Yulo X, the essence of the music is distilled into a rawer, more minimalist form, peeling away layers to unveil a core of stark, unadulterated emotion. Yulo X transcends electronic music genre boundaries, inspired by the dynamic energies of Berlin's and London's music scenes. His forthcoming debut album showcases a unique style with catchy piano passages and orchestral elements, marking an evolution in Neumann's songwriting and production that resonates deeply.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Yulo X (@yuloxmusic)

Check also his Monthly radio show @datatransmission

[djaavdin]

✔ Discover the music of the day 🎤-  Chic Miniature - Kaleidoscope 

 Credit : Crosstownrebels 

#technomusic #techno #playlist #song #dj #music #artist #electro #electromusic #art #dj 

[stardust-bridges]

Club Furies Premiere: Vleks, Javier Martinez, Badmoiselle - The Silence (Mazsai Remix) [Chaos Candance]

Three sonic forces collide in the premiere of the new label of our beloved Vleks, based in Tamaulipas. The kaleidoscope of sounds and cultures in constant change Javier Martinez―from Oaxaca. The witch of Mexican electronica Badmoiselle―from the imposing Mexico City. And the place where techno meets rock Vleks. Chaos Candance thus emerges as one of the new labels of the country, to continue…