#this song is so surreal and also a bit foreboding

[linseedling]

"King and Queen of the Pelicans we No other Birds so grand we see None but we have feet like fins With lovely leathery throats and chins"

Pelicans We - Cosmo Sheldrake

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

INTERVIEWS ETC 2023

I sometimes talk to people! Going back over the last year, I had some nice conversations with some very cool people. I like doing interviews, but they definitely stress me out a little bit. I suppose it's good to get out of your comfort zone from time to time, though ... So yeah, here are a few of those interviews, in case you missed 'em the first time around.

HEAD VOICE (James Jackson Toth, Ben Chasny, Donovan Quinn)

Donovan Quinn: There’s one aspect of process which is like a user manual. You know, turning on a machine, how you control the bass or whatever. But then there’s a part of process which is more of our terrain, where it’s kind of a story. An artist or a group of artists is interacting with all these elements — each other, gear, inspiration. With each of our pieces in Head Voice, we’re getting little bits of that story.

ILYAS AHMED

With my record, I’ve seen people reference Loren Connors, which is great — I’m a huge fan of Loren Connors. But I’m always comparing it to something like Bill Fay, maybe in an emotional sense. Or like, Neil Young — how do I make “Cortez The Killer” … but not just copy it. One of my favorite Coltrane tunes is “Alabama.” Those eternal favorites you always come back to. How can I make something that feels like that without just doing that, right? I’m not interested in copying it, I’m interested in transmuting it, making it fit into my weird perspective of the world. 

WILL HERMES

As an artist, [Lou] was a “transformer,” and everybody has their own version of who he was. What they want him to be, what aspect of his character they wanted to take in. I tried to show them all. I don’t know if they all morph into a single, intelligible human being. But maybe that is part of what was endlessly fascinating about him. He was all of these things simultaneously and they didn’t all necessarily add up.

M. SAGE

I think it’s radical to have fun. And to be silly. It’s not meant as escapism or denial, but the world is dark and weird. And it keeps getting darker and weirder. It’s radical for an artist to afford an audience joy or pleasure. I mean, I love a lot of that solemn, serious, foreboding electro-acoustic music. There’s incredible stuff, obviously. But I wanted to make something that felt fun. And accessible! That’s radical, too, I think.

HORSE LORDS

Andrew Bernstein: We’re trying to make things that sound interesting to us, first and foremost. But we’re also hoping that the music and the way we operate spurs the listener to think differently. Every act is political, and our decisions might make someone reconsider how they make music or how they go about their lives.

BRENDA SAUTER

“The Obedient Atom” at White Eagle Hall was really special. That was one of the original Willies songs and it never got recorded. It was one of those songs that was always left behind for one reason or another. To finally play it out just felt incredible … and then the fire alarm went off and everyone had to evacuate [laughter]. There’s something about that song! Surreal. The atom wasn’t so obedient that night.

Further reading: Bill Million on the Feelies' live tribute to an Underground legend

GUIDING LIGHT: A TOM VERLAINE APPRECIATION

Alasdair MacLean: I also think of some of Stephan Mallarme’s phrases – “the musician of empty nothingness.” Verlaine seemed to be working in parallel: “Watching the corners turn corners;” “Lightning struck itself.” The language turns in on itself, like the guitar solos. He obviously knew those poets back to front. I imagine lots of other people have tried to do this since, but all of them have made fools of themselves. Verlaine never did.

Further reading: Tom Verlaine - 20 Great Tracks

SPIRAL STAIRS

When we first started talking about rehearsing, I was like, “We’re probably going to be playing the same 20 songs. Let’s just pick another 15 songs that we know we can bust out.” Eventually, we finally came to that point…but then in rehearsals we ended up playing probably like 60 songs [laughs]. I’m like, “Oh my god!” That was just for the two Primavera shows, so it was like “Come on!” It took a while to re-learn all of that stuff. 

[herrlindemann]

Rock Sound, 2005 - Interview with Till and Schneider

Anyone who’s witnessed Rammstein’s pyrotastic live show will know they aren’t a band to do things by halves. So maybe rock sound shouldn’t be surprised by the surreal trail of events that unfolds during the press day for new album ‘Rosenrot’. Arriving in Paris with some vague instructions to head to the Place de la Bastille and find a double-decker bus, it all fells worryingly like the plot from a bad James Bond film. Luckily, any fears about being unable to follow such a cryptic lead are calmed on spotting a bright red London bus which, in case it wasn’t given away by its conspicuous geographical location, is helpfully plastered with Rammstein album artwork. Today the bus will were a dual purpose; both transporting us to a top secret interview site and acting as a pretty ingenious promotional tool, as we drive through the city past several turned heads and dropped jaws. 

Onboard, journalists from various European countries are initiated into an album listening session that’s shrouded in MI5-style secrecy. After signing a contract, each writer receives a sealed and numbered personal CD player containing a preview version of ‘Rosenrot’. Suffice to say, those who dare to break the seal and peek inside do so on pain of death. Well, probably. And it doesn’t end there. 

Arriving at the interview venue — a boat moored on the bank of the River Seine — it seems Rammstein are intent on having us experience as many branches of the Parisian transport system as possible. It all ensures that the press are suitably bewildered, as well as just a little excited, when the time arrives to interview bands members Till Lindemann and Christoph Schneider. Really, you wouldn’t think it could get much weirder. But it does.

Both Lindemann and Schneider appear oddly indifferent to the day’s set-up, as if they’re old hands at sending journalists into a state of confusion before meeting them. Not that frontman Till really needs to try; he’s already knocked us hacks for six by granting several rare interviews this afternoon, and in person he looks every bit as imposing as his on stage characters. Thankfully though, he’s infinitely more good-humoured, and a listen to ‘Rosenrot’ reveals his increasing skill in channelling that quality into the songs.

The band’s fifth studio album continues to develop several of the themes from ‘Reise, Reise’ — namely the exchange of strict marching rhythms for dynamic rock riffs (‘Rosenrot’, ‘Zerstören’), and a new-fund affinity for ballads (‘Feuer & Wasser, ‘Ein Lied’). Yet it also comes with a few major surprises, most noticeably ‘a party anthem about driving into a brothel’, titled ‘Te Quiero Puta’. As if diverting from their trademark sound with cartoon noises and mariachi instrumentation in this effort weren’t enough, the biggest shock comes from Till, who switches his usually foreboding vocals into Spanish to hilarious effect.

Schneider picks up the story: « Till could never find good lyrics for that song, » he recalls. « It was a bit sad because we always liked it very much music-wise. Then he came up with this Spanish, which I absolutely didn’t like, especially with all the trumpets. But sometimes you have to get used to ideas that you don’t find so cool, because they might have a little potential. »

Consequently, ‘Te Quiero Puta’ is one of the best songs Rammstein have written, not just because it shatters every preconception they’ve built up with previous albums, but also because it’s executed so well. Maybe that’s down to the fact that when Rammstein go off on a creative tangent, they aren’t driven by a need for attention, but by genuine curiosity. Indeed, while ‘Te Quiero Puta’ was inspired by a love of Spanish culture that Till developed while exploring Costa Rica, ‘Mann gegen Mann’ was born from an equally eye-opening experience.

The singer explains: « That’s a pro-homosexual song. It’s based on an experience I had when we went out in Berlin with another band that had two gay members. We went to a gay bard and I was just impressed by how fast they made contact with other men, how there was little bit of communication and then they went home together. I thought it was quite enviable, especially when you compare it to what happens between a man and a woman and all the ritualistic behavior. They just had a one-night stand and nothing more. I thought there was something poetic about that. »

There’s nothing all that unusual about Rammstein dealing in potentially controversial subject matter, as the gory inspiration for ‘Mein teil’ showed. Even so, it’s hard to escape the impression that ‘Rosenrot’ is their most experimental album to date.

According to the band, that probably has something to do with they way in which it came together. The release of ‘Rosenrot’ comes just a year after ‘Reise, Reise’, meaning a significant change to their normal working cycle.

« We’ve never released another album so quickly," says Till. « Usually there’s the album release in summer or early autumn, then we tour through autumn, winter and spring and then go into working on the next release in the autumn. But after making ‘Reise, Reise’ we had four songs left which hadn’t fitted in with the rest of the album. So we decided then that we would make another CD straight after ‘Reise, Reise’ so that we could use them. »

Although they could have released the songs as an EP, there was another obstacle to overcome. During the making of ‘Reise, Reise’, Rammstein decided they would take a six-month « creative break » when they eventually came off the road in 2005. That meant either leaving fans with a long wait before another album arrived, or working incredibly hard to extend those four songs into a full release before disappearing. With Schneider stressing that the leftover tracks were « good songs, not just B-sides », they took the latter option and began work on ‘Rosenrot’ under what he describes as « a lot of pressure due to the time constraints ». 

But with both ‘Te Quiero Puta’ and ‘Mann gegen Mann’ among the new songs penned in that period, it was evidently also a positive time creatively.

« The songs are from two different periods so I think that makes the album a bit outstanding, » comments Schneider. « It’s not like the last two Rammstein albums, but it’s a good album. »

It turned out so well, in fact, that they changed their original plan to call it ‘Reise, Reise Vol. 2’ and graced it with its own title. That title continues their fascination with dark fairytales, echoing both an old story by the Brothers Grimm and a story that Till recalls about « a girl who sees a red flower on the mountainside and tells her lover. He tries to get it for her but he dies ». Nonetheless, the album as a whole also marks the end of an era for Rammstein.

« For me, this is the closing of a chapter for the band, » says Schneider. « Everybody needs a break, they need a bit of distance from this band and time to look forward and ask, ‘Where am I?’ And, ‘What do I want to do?’ We need to find other ways of being inspired. »

Consequently, there will be no tour to support the release of ‘Rosenrot’, as the sextet head their separate ways to recharge and reflect. After more than 10 years of following the same work schedule, the members of Rammstein are looking forward to spending time with family, travelling, and having the chance to recover from an exhausting promotional itinerary. They initially discovered the benefits of taking time out while making ‘Reise, Reise’ — when tensions carried over from previous album ‘Matter’ came to a head and forced them to put work on hold. As Schneider states, it’s vital to the « balance of democracy » within the band that they get away from each other now and again.

However, with this personal time now coming at the expense of a new live spectacular, are they concerned that ‘Rosenrot’ won’t get the exposure it deserves?

« Maybe that will affect something, » allows the drummer. « But we’ve been on tour for almost a year now and we’re tired. Of course our live show is a big part of our promotion, but what can you do? You can’t keep on at the same pace, running and running like a hamster on a wheel. »

A much-needed holiday? The end of an era? You might wonder if ‘Rosenrot’ is shaping up to be Rammstein’s parting shot…

« I have a good feeling, » begins Schneider. « I think Rammstein has the potential to continue. But after 11 or so years you have to be careful. It’s easy to over-do it, for it to get boring and for you not to reach your potential anymore. We’ll see. If it doesn’t happen anymore I’ll do something else. »

Thankfully, Till is more assured about future plans, insisting Rammstein will start work on another album and tour after their break. What’s more, the excited singer suggests we can expect an even greater visual extravaganza on their return — if he gets his way.

« Personally, I’d just sing two songs and then have two hours of pyro! » he laughs.

There’s no doubt it’ll be worth the wait.

[yunatheintrovert]

shot through the heart (and you’re to blame) | Chapter 1 [Russell Adler/Female Bell!Reader Soulmate AU]

As you tapped your foot against the carpeted floor of the conference room to Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie, you felt your once anxious mind calm down.

For far back as you could remember-which really was just the year 1981-music with your ever trustworthy Walkman had always helped you with...well everything.

It had been one of the reasons you loved that pencil-pushing job in the cubicle at Langley as an intelligence analyst. No unholy amount of paperwork could overcome the clarity you felt at the sound of music blaring through the headset at your ears, drowning out everything else in your world. There was no voices, no ringing in your ears, no screams.

It was all just the consistent sounds of songs you listened to time and time again.

(And as much as you hated to admit it, there was that stubborn bit of hope that refused to die in every song you listened to. Because maybe, just maybe-you had someone out there when you had no one to call your own.)

That stability you found in a world that you knew you had no place in was all thanks to an old acquaintance and now friend. Belikov must have heard from Lazar about the noise complaints from your neighbors. After all, the next time you met him at the scheduled Chicago Cubs’ game, he handed a boxed Sony Walkman WM-5 model with his usual smile under his signature blue Chicago Cubs hat.

As much as you prized your precious Walkman, you couldn’t help but notice how the timing of the mixtapes it played was...uncanny.

Granted, you made the mixtapes yourself. But the MK Ultra program didn’t give you foresight into the future.

You remembered Lazar laughing amusedly at your musings about that. You swore it was true although perhaps that was the paranoia left over the MK Ultra program.

Yet as you sat patiently at the conference table, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding that punctuated the ringing silence the Walkman had before it moved onto the next song on your mixtape.

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART AND YOU'RE TO BLAME-

As the song you had listened to for years after quite literally getting shot in the heart rang loud and clear in your ears, you registered the doorknob turning across the room.

And suddenly, you just knew.

The song you had listened to for a year while getting as drunk as a fish in bars was coming back to haunt you with a vengeance.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake-” you muttered to yourself, perhaps a bit more loudly than you intended.

Russell Adler walked through that door not a second later.

Even as you swiveled your gaze to the suddenly very fascinating waste basket at the opposite side of the room, you couldn’t help but look at your former...superior out of the corner of your eye.

He was as calm and composed as ever. Signature sunglasses and the ever present cigarette in hand, he looked the same as he did in 1981.

Years ago, you would have admitted that it was frustrating to be ignored that way.

But now, all you could hope for was that he was just here to sit in for the meeting.

If the implanted memories were any indication, Russell Adler always tied up loose ends.

And you were that one loose end that just wouldn’t die.

Quietly sighing to yourself, you soon turned your attention to the briefing that just started. Half of the people you didn’t recognize. But you did notice the familiar figures of Lazar and Belikov sitting in the seats next to Adler.

It must have been some time into the briefing that you felt a forceful nudge at your leg. Turning slightly, you faced your neighbor, recognizing the familiar face.

She was an analyst at the cubicles in Langley as well. Although, she had a fair resume filled with a reasonable amount of fieldwork related to the Eastern Bloc.

“Bell,” she said as you read her lips and the frustrated look in her eyes, “Turn off that damn Walkman.” you assumed she said that in a hiss.

Truth be told, you weren’t exactly popular among the analysts at Langley. You were rather aloof with your quiet lunches in your little cubicle and constant listening to music on your Walkman in the busy hallways.

Suddenly, you saw the analyst’s head turn towards the upper end of the conference table.

And just like before, you simply knew who your “neighbor” was looking at.

“There’s no problem, sir. It’s just her-” You saw the analyst gesture to yourself before she added, “I don’t know if she was paying attention to the briefing.”

There were several times in your line of work that you wish your conversational and social skills were more up to par....and this was one of those times.

You looked at Adler, shrouded in a sparse cloud of smoke with his signature sunglasses on.

“Bell,” was the word you registered all too well.

You felt the gunshot scar on your chest ache in pangs because you heard that word-BellBELLBell-in Vietnam all those years ago-nonono

It wasn’t real. And you had to listen to the advice the shrink gave you.

They were all just surreal dreams.

“Sir?” you quietly inquired, making sure to use the honorific. After all, there never ever was any personal feelings involved in the past and thus formality should be used to distinguish that (and deep down you knew it was for your sake because you had to draw a damn boundary between reality and whatever the hell MK Ultra planted inside you).

For a split second, you could have sworn something crossed his face. Although, you could never tell what he was thinking behind those shades.

“We’ve got a job to do, Bell.” You felt yourself freeze, “What is it?” He was testing you.

Of course.

“Objective is a downed American recon satellite over the Angolan desert. Secure perimeter, destroy sensitive technology, and exfil at 1300. Weapons armament is at our discretion,” you said in clipped statements before adding, “Further details will be assigned to us at a later time.”

Much to the frustration of your “neighbor”, Adler simply nodded approvingly at you in that ever slight way before taking a drag of his cigarette.

Luckily, the briefing was over in around 15 minutes without a hitch.

By the time it was over, your mixtape had already gotten to Tainted Love by Soft Cell and you were already in the middle of jumping out of your chair and making a hopefully subtle dash to the hallway.

From the pain you drive into the heart of me The love we share Seems to go nowhere

Suddenly, you felt a weighted, warm pressure on your shoulder and you instantly twisted around with your hand on the origin of the pressure-

-only for you to blink in consternation at the warm feeling of callused skin against your own.

He’s not wearing gloves, you thought vaguely for a moment as you held Adler’s large callused hand on your shoulder.

Wait-

“Sorry, sir-” you jerked away from him with an apology, “...old habits die hard.”

'What old habits? You had none, not with him.' you kicked yourself mentally.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings.” Ah, yes...The same kind of lecturing you would get in the safehouse when you would listen in on his calls...Granted that somewhat deserved, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t watching over you 24/7 like that time you saw him watching you wander around in the darkroom.

“Yes, sir.” you simply said. It was better to be unnoticed by Adler than it was to piss him off. If you had to be the same devoted obedient subordinate as before, so be it.

There just wouldn’t be any personal feelings involved this time.

(because there were none. It was never personal.)

And I've lost my light For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night

You couldn’t help but feel rather awkward at the silence that lingered in the air.

“If that’s all, I’ll be going now, sir.” you rather sheepishly said before moving to turn to walk away. 

“What are you listening to, kid?” Adler asked suddenly.

“What?”

“The song,” he gestured to the Walkman secured at your waist.

“Tainted Love,” you quickly answered, “Soft Cell.”

You could’ve sworn you saw Adler’s lips twitch up ever so slightly in almost a rather smile....or grimace. You could never quite tell with him.

“It’s a good song, Bell.” was all he said before walking away.

And with that exchange, you were left alone and confused in the hallway.

Once I ran to you (I ran) Now, I'll run from you This tainted love you've given

Author’s Note: 

This is my first time writing out Adler's character as well as even writing out a Call of Duty fanfic. Hopefully, it turned out okay. My writing is still pretty rusty at the moment. 

Anyways, I love writing Soulmate AUs and I found the idea of it to be interesting with a Russell Adler/Bell concept. Aside from my love for Soulmate AUs, I also just had to write out post-canon ending Bell having a Walkman and listening to music all the time with it.

Also, in case anyone is confused, this has a canon-divergence where Bell got non-fatally shot by Adler just before getting pardoned by a high-ranking official for her efforts and then getting a pencil-pushing job as an intelligence analyst at Langley. It's somewhat based on the "happy ending AU idea" post I put on here. It's rather unrealistic but I decided to run with the idea since it ran well with the soulmate AU concept.

Well, thanks for reading!

[shemakesmusic-uk]

After releasing her film Black Is King as a Disney+ exclusive a few weeks ago, Beyoncé has shared the visual 'Brown Skin Girl' on YouTube. Featuring SAINt JHN, WizKid, and daughter Blue Ivy, the clip features appearances by former bandmate Kelly Rowland, Noami Campell, Lupita Nyong’o, and more. The video coincided with a special message the star shared with Good Morning America. "It was so important to me in 'Brown Skin Girl' that we represented all different shades of brown," Beyoncé said of the video, crediting director Jenn Nkiru with the concept. "It was important that we are all in this together and we're all celebrating each other." [via The FADER]

Eivør releases a new single and video, ‘Let It Come’, the latest lifted from her forthcoming album Segl. The transportive new clip - filmed in Iceland - is a prequel to the video for previous single release ‘Sleep On It’, which Eivør released last month. Both videos are directed by Einar Egils and feature actor Tómas Lemarquis (Blade Runner 2049, X-Men: Apocalypse). Speaking about ‘Let It Come’, Eivør says; "It’s one of those songs that took many shapes before it reached its final destination and I guess the opening line pretty much explains it all: “Sometimes I overthink the most simple things”. This song is a follow up to my previous single 'Sleep On It' - whilst that was about insomnia and making difficult choices, 'Let It Come' is about coming out at the other end of this struggle, embracing the uncertainties you might find yourself in and finding the courage to believe that something good will come your way." Of the interplay between the two music videos he has created for Eivør, director Einar Eglis adds; "'Let It Come' is a prequel to the end of the world that was portrayed in the ‘Sleep On It’ video. Eivør has been stuck in a loop of uncertainty for years, until she sees a vision that will end everything as we know it, and she is the key towards redemption. She must face these facts and embrace the golden idol she is to become."

The gentle, hypnotic sway of 'god's chariots' is central to MaryLou Mayniel's first full-length project Galore. Her catalogue of experimental electronica is impressive whichever way you look at it. Creating everything from video game soundtracks to an EP sampling the likes of Miley Cyrus and Carly Rae Jepsen to vast instrumental odysseys and empowering pop anthems, Mayniel can turn her hand to almost anything. 'god's chariots' is at the helm of the singer-songwriter's latest drop of new music. “It’s a fantasy, a place you’re in to escape reality, but it’s also about being so lonely that you kind of lose your mind,” explains Manyiel. A fragment of her forthcoming debut full-length project 'god's chariots' is just one piece of the ever-expanding story which Oklou shares on Galore. With additional tracks 'nightmare' and 'rosebud', also out n ow, we get to piece more of Galore's narrative of emotional rebirth together. Already an illuminating experience with its first six songs out in the world, soon you'll be able to witness Manyiel's first masterpiece in all its glory when the rest of the project is released next month. [via Line Of Best Fit]

Madeline Kenney has shared the visual for her Sucker's Lunch album track 'Cut the Real'. 'Cut the Real' is one of the most lyrically confrontational tracks on Kenney's new album Sucker's Lunch. Kenney has unveiled the accompanying self-directed visual filmed in Oakland that sees her dressed in a Rococo style suit and makeup, giving a heartfelt performance of the song's fierce lyrics. Madeline Kenney: "I wrote 'Cut the Real' when I was feeling particularly insane / depressed /"out of my mind" as I was starting a new relationship. I really struggle with self confidence and found myself spiraling out into deep holes of self-loathing -- even though I knew what was going on I couldn't stop that cycle. The concept was inspired by the aesthetic choices in recent Aldous Harding videos as well as old Annie Lennox videos. I wanted to put on a gender-neutral Rococo outfit and just really allow myself to ham it up, and occupy that same spinning-out headspace as I was in while writing the song." [via Line Of Best Fit]

Four years after she released her solo debut Slugger, Speedy Ortiz leader Sadie Dupuis is getting ready to release Haunted Painting, the second album released under her Sad13 alias. The album comes out next month, and  now we get another new song, and it’s got a pretty great music video attached. The new Sad13 track is called 'Hysterical,' and it’s a zippy synthpop track with layered lyrics: “I wanna see you disappear and laugh like I don’t need permission.” In a press release, Dupuis says that the song is about “unfunny comedians [who] love to argue that ‘PC culture’ destroys comedy.” Dupuis plays almost all the instruments herself. The video, directed by Kate Banford and Jamie Loftus, features Dupuis alongside comedy-world mainstays like Loftus, Mitra Jouhari, and Demi Adejuyigbe. Like the new horror movie Host, the whole thing takes place on a computer screen, and it’s all about what happens when a ghost shows up in a Zoom party and kills everyone. [via Stereogum]

When Cross Record’s Emily Cross and Dan Duszynski teamed up with Shearwater’s Jonathan Meiburg to form Loma, it seemed like it might be one-off endeavor. But then last month we got news that they’d be following their 2017 debut with a new album, Don’t Shy Away. Along with the announcement, they shared a stunning new track called 'Ocotillo'. Today, they’re back with another one.  The latest preview of Don’t Shy Away arrives in the form of 'Half Silences,' which the band shared an earlier iteration of last year. 'Half Silences' was the first song we recorded for Don’t Shy Away, and we kept tinkering with it after we soft-released an early version last year,” Meiburg explained in a statement. “When you start making a record, you don’t know which songs will make the cut — but this one always seemed to belong, and we wanted to give the final mix (and its DIY video) a proper debut. People have asked if the fireworks are CGI. They aren’t.” 'Ocotillo' was an almost foreboding song, cresting into horn arrangements that teetered on the brink of chaos. In comparison, 'Half Silences' is a dreamier and hazier composition. But in either form, Loma are making some gorgeous, otherworldly music. [via Stereogum]

Back in June, the Bristol songwriter Fenne Lily announced her sophomore album, BREACH. So far we’ve heard advance singles 'Alapathy' and 'Berlin,' and today she’s back with another one. Lily’s latest is called 'Solipsism.' Here’s what she had to say about it: "A lot of situations make me uncomfortable — some parties, most dates, every time I’m stoned in the supermarket. 'Solipsism' is a song about being comfortable with being uncomfortable and the freedom that comes with that. If you feel weird for long enough it becomes normal, and feeling anything is better than feeling nothing. I wanted this video to be a reflection of the scary thought that I’ll have to live with myself forever. It’s surreal to realize you’ll never live apart from someone you sometimes hate. Dad, if you’re reading this you killed it as shopper number 2." The song comes with a video directed by Tom Clover with the non-profit Film Co. “I asked Fenne what products she wanted to be and then worked backwards from there with the illustrators,” Clover explained. “Most of the references came from Asian Supermarket packaging — they are way more interesting. The most important thing was making sure that it reflected upon Fenne’s personality — there’s a bunch of details you might miss on the first watch!” [via Stereogum]

About two weeks ago Oceanator shared 'Heartbeat,' the third and final single from their upcoming full length debut, Things I Never Said and now it has a video. The highly anticipated album via Plastic Miracles captures Elise Okusami’s songwriting at it’s best, a strong effort that sits between pop, rock, fuzzy punk, and alternative radio gold. The video, directed by David Combs and Ben Epstein, is every bit as delightful as the song itself, opening with the same magnetic energy as we find Okusami seemingly lost and looking for companionship. She finds it eventually in the form of herself, quite literally, as she joins herself at a bus stop, and then again in a field, with ten of more copies, al rocking out, all enjoying each other’s company. There’s a brilliant barbershop quartet moment, cool animation, and enough smiles to keep you going throughout your day. Speaking about the song, Okusami shared: “This song is loosely about having a crush, and both the grounding feeling and the anxiety that feeling brings. We recorded it all together like a live performance, and then I went back and added the lead guitars and the vocals. Guitar and vocals by me, bass Eva Lawitts (they), drums Aaron Silberstein (he)." [via Post Trash]

Ontario-based project Falcon Jane – the moniker for primary songwriter of the group, Sara May – have released their soaring new single, ‘The Other Moon’ via Pittsburgh-based label, Darling Recordings – you can watch the new video that comes co-directed by May and Dominique van Olm above. ‘The Other Moon’, which is lifted from a larger body of material set to come from Sara May further down the line, finds the artist exploring deeply sentimental and personal themes, from death to memory, and the miscommunication that can take place between generations. May has a penchant for unpacking these emotions in succinct and comprehensible forms, making something so personal and idiosyncratic to her feel so familiar to the rest of us. Much of May’s forthcoming work found its source of inspiration in early 2019 when her songwriting synched up with a string of deaths that occurred in her immediate family; ‘The Other Moon’ pays a touching testament to her Nonna with May lacing the track’s stark honesty with swooning guitar and her enchanting vocal palette, a sound that co-director, van Olm visualized as May’s DIY journey through space. Speaking about the new track, May says: “‘The Other Moon’ is a letter and tribute to my late Nonna whose death inspired me to start recording this album. Despite being from two completely different generations, and speaking two different languages, my Nonna and I had a very special connection. We understood each other and cared about each other, even if we couldn’t find the words to express it. My Nonna would always cheekily joke about her own death, and through her broken English, she claimed that when she died she’d be going to “The Other Moon”. This song is not a story about a happy-go-lucky relationship between grandmother and granddaughter,” May continues. “It accurately depicts the contrasting dynamic of a very loving friendship mixed with a lifelong trauma-ridden miscommunication. The big hole in my heart, the black cloud over our love. This song feels like the message I always wanted to send to her; pushing through the darkness to find the deep love we shared and continue to share now.”

Baby Queen has released her third track 'Medicine' with a fab new video. The follow-up to ‘Buzzkill', it arrives ahead of her debut EP later this year. "It's about a tangle of mental health and navigating your way through this world,” Bella says of the song, “whilst being so unhappy and equally disillusioned with the cyber landscape that we are forced to live inside, and the different ways people might numb themselves, or try to find a place where they can exist in amongst all of this fucking chaos." [via Dork]

Oklahoma-born, LA-based electro-pop songstress Mothica has released her debut album Blue Hour, accompanied by the official music video for her single 'VICES.' The album was written over the course of a few months, starting with one of the worst moments of Mothica’s life: a psych ward stay for self-harm and ends with a song about never wanting to feel the “crash” of drugs ever again. “Following that incident, I sought therapy and wrote lyrics detailing my journey into sobriety. I am now 13 months sober at the time of writing this, and have never been in a better place emotionally.” With her new album Blue Hour, she chronicles her deep struggle with addiction + mental health and the process of getting sober. “Someone told me that every artist has their ‘getting sober album’ eventually,” she explains. “I find it ironic that my debut album is my ‘getting sober’ album, because I think that’s indicative of how quickly I was forced to grow up."

FKA twigs has always made incredible music videos, and 'sad day' ranks right up there with her best. For this clip, twigs worked with the director Hiro Murai, one of the best music-video directors to emerge in the last decade. Murai has mostly moved on from music videos in recent years. Instead, he’s directed episodes of Atlanta and Barry, two of the best shows on TV, as well as Donald Glover’s Amazon short film Guava Island and the forthcoming apocalyptic miniseries Station Eleven. The 'sad day' video is Murai’s first clip since he made the instantly iconic 'This Is America' with Donald Glover in 2018. I don’t want to give away much of the 'sad day' video, which starts out in a dingy takeout spot and transforms into a surreal dream-logic head trip. But you should know that twigs only made this video after spending three years studying martial arts at the Shaolin Wushu Center, and you can tell. A dancer named Teake, who twigs discovered via social media, co-stars. [via Stereogum]

The latest of Silly Boy Blue's ongoing build is 'Hi, It's Me Again,' a song she describes as the "too long text I didn't want to send at 3 AM to my ex." Like the rumination behind a loaded, emotional message to a former lover, she adds that it took months to assemble the words in her head but only one night to write out the lyrics. "I needed to write a song about this, because it's a very special place between the hate and the void during a breakup." With an almost lullaby melody, the spacey tune slowly builds into the ultimate warning: "You'll be the one I always haunt," Silly Boy Blue sings, her voice beautifully layered and atmospheric. All her thoughts throughout the song are interlaced with the relatable, somewhat insecure backpedal, "I'm sorry," capturing the headspace "just before resilience," as she describes. It's "when you start to understand the breakup, but you still have so many questions popping in your head." In the 'Hi, It's Me Again' video, Silly Boy Blue says she "needed to show the different parts" of her identity. "Some of them are masculine, some of them are feminine, some of them seem confident, some seem shy, some seem to suffocate, some stand proudly." Much like the nuanced feelings during a breakup, she expresses without binaries — and especially through fashion, as she opens the clip in only an oversized men's button-down. Scenes in the new visual roll by like memories or fleeting emotions, ranging from subdued drama to full on meltdowns. At one point, she's shown with a plastic bag pulled over her head to capture the most extreme feelings of dread, juxtaposed against a more innocent shot of Silly Boy Blue in all white with two lone tear drops fixated on her cheek. The artist also loaded in "important" references to her favorite movies, from the Titanic's necklace to The Rocky Horror Picture Show's big mouth. [via PAPER]

Dream Nails have released a video for their new single, 'This Is The Summer'. It's a song from their new Tarek Musa of Spring King-produced, self-titled record out now via Alcopop!. “[It's] a song about how our climate is breaking down irreversibly,” says singer Janey Starling. “Colonial capitalism, waged by UK governments and corporations for centuries, has ravaged our earth. “We need to be urgently fighting for migrant rights so the UK welcomes climate refugees displaced by countries hit by extreme weather. We must demand transparency from oil companies who relentlessly put profit before people, even as the world burns." Guitarist Anya Pearson adds: “We wrote ‘This Is The Summer’ in the heatwave of 2018, recorded it in another heatwave in 2019 and now we are releasing it in yet another heatwave! Our video for the track shows how the current pandemic, white supremacy and climate change are not separate issues but interlinked. The song is about the brazen complacency of getting drunk and catching a tan in the park while the world burns.” [via Dork]

BBC Sound Of 2020 winner Celeste has shared her new single 'Little Runaway'. Out now, the single is about a crisis of faith, and features a towering vocal from the London artist. A song about succumbing to the depths before emerging renewed, 'Little Runaway' began as a jazz sample, before taking on a life of its own. Celeste says... “‘Little Runaway’ is a song about losing your faith, even if just momentarily, and seeking answers from spirits and ghosts as nothing seems to make sense on this planet. My favourite line in the song is ‘good news I could use some’ – I believe everyone has a guardian angel, a protector, and this is me talking to mine.” “The verses actually started as this saxophone sample we were playing around with and eventually it transformed into the melody. I always play the sax back in my head even though it’s not in the song.” 'Little Runaway' features an innovative music video, steered by Celeste’s frequent collaborator Sophie Jones. [via Clash]

Anna Sofia released a brand new music video for her song 'Don’t Play Pretend'. 'Don’t Play Pretend' is from her latest EP Broken Perfection. Over a million streams into her career, Anna Sofia sings this song about her own life. She might not be perfect. She might make mistakes. All that said, at least she doesn’t pretend to be something she’s not. Sofia said she doesn’t have a message. “It’s just real life,” she said. “One day, I hope to fill stadiums all over the world. I want to have fans everywhere and have some way of helping them or guiding them through my music. My confidence comes from being myself and connecting with people.” [via The 360 Mag]

Last year, the K-pop group BLACKPINK made big moves in America with their Kill This Love EP, becoming the highest-charting women-led Korean act on both the Billboard 200 and the Hot 100 (with its title track). They also played Coachella. Earlier this year, they had a guest feature on Lady Gaga’s Chromatica with ‘Sour Candy,’ a single that matched their previous chart record at #33. They’re releasing a new album in a couple months, which was led off by ‘How You Like That’ in June. Now, they’re putting out another song from it, a collaboration with Selena Gomez called ‘Ice Cream.’ The food angle of the track is appropriate for Gomez, who has most recently been in the headlines for her new HBO Max cooking show. [via Stereogum]

Tel-Aviv based artist Noga Erez shares the next in a series of game-changing singles leading into her mysterious second album (details yet to be announced). 'You So Done' and its striking accompanying video are out now via City Slang. Following the sparkling sass of 'VIEWS' and the irresistibly upbeat lockdown anthem 'NO news on TV', Noga Erez and her collaborative partner Ori Rousso's latest offering 'You So Done' has been highly anticipated online since appearing on NBC's Good Girls earlier this year. It sees Erez shift from outward looking political themes to personal soul-searching, opening up for a stirring track about rejection, toxic and emotionally violent relationships, and ones own inner violence. Along with the track she has shared a moving statement, saying: "At some point, exactly one year ago, I started flashing back to one of the darkest times in my life. I was young, incredibly confused and lonely... There was a moment during this period where I was actually so weak, insecure and in need of love that I was not able to step out of what I know now to be an emotionally abusive relationship." She concludes: "It really, truly means the world to me to give this song to you. I hope this story can help some of you to realise that you are not alone. And I really do hope to make it clear that even the darkest places are not impossible to free yourself from. They are eventually an opportunity to learn, grow and to become a stronger person." Erez has created a reputation for the captivating videos that accompany her songs, and this latest video sees her step it up a level yet again. Her third collaboration with Tel Aviv-based director Indy Hait sees Erez as a puppet in a dystopian future, being violently flung to-and-fro by an unknown captor. "The video for 'You So Done' was a big risk taker for me" she comments. "Usually, I have an idea or I work with a director on an idea together. Since this was my third video with Indy Hait, I decided to let him do his thing. He offered up an idea that included a robot and I immediately hated it. I was just not able to imagine how it wouldn't come off as a science fiction video and felt it wasn't my style. But after talking and tearing the idea apart, I realised that this is a truly meaningful character. The robot in this video is actually not the violent character.  Its job was to portray the act of violence through transferring the moves from an unseen character and helping them come alive visually. The video uses muscle memory as the 'engine' to that violent dance act, and muscle memory is something that fascinates me. Eventually this video is far from being science fiction, it is my most personal video to date."

[happymetalgirl]

Oranssi Pazuzu - Mestarin Kynsi

Along with the entirety of fellow metal experimentalists Dark Buddha Rising, Oranssi Pazuzu in their entirety as well contributed to one of my favorite records of last year under the shared moniker of Waste of Space Orchestra. Their album, Syntheosis, was a hypnotic, surreal levitation through synth-heavy metallic psychedelia that Oranssi Pazuzu had been working more and more into their sound, which was at a height on their 2016 effort, Värähtelijä. After the release of its successor here though, not only the synthesizer boldness on Värähtelijä, but the band’s entire sound and artistic advancement as well pale in comparison to what they’ve done with Mestarin Kynsi.

Oranssi Pazuzu have been about this very sound their entire career, from their already rather impressive 2009 debut, Muukalainen puhuu, to this year’s effort. Even though they started strong, the band have been pushing themselves as best as they can to reinforce their sound, making little improvements from one album to the next throughout the past decade, in what has seemed like painstakingly slow, mild progress along a relatively high plateau, until now.

Mestarin Kynsi goes all in on the synths even more than two band’s worth of synthesizers did on last year’s Syntheosis did, but it’s not about simply upping a single element of Oranssi Pazuzu’s sound, but rather how the band uses that to truly evolve their sound beyond just being more synthy. The band’s fifth full-length is all about taking their captivatingly psychedelic black metal’s tangible, yet other-worldly horror to a whole new level for them and for black metal. The band manages to find this sweet spot of ideal balance between integrating so many synthetic elements and mutating traditional black metal elements while never losing that vital metallic realness and intensity in their music. No matter how many special effects the band brings in, the undivided focus is on the substantive mastery with which the band wields their massive sonic arsenal.

While most of the spook and psychedelia comes from the incredible creativity with which the synths are weaved into the dynamic metallic backdrop, the foundation that the band’s brilliance with manipulating those traditional metallic elements into a monstrous vehicle for the synths to amplify the various cerebral aspects of their music should not be left unpraised. While the instrumental pieces are rarely ever super flashy in isolation, the way they all work together in such harmony in a way that feels as though they arent even coming from a band with individual members but rather a superconsciousness where all the artists share and channel their creative energy through a single mind truly transcends the tightness of the vast majority of bands, who are often just incapable of entirely preventing everyone’s ego from leaking out just a little. With Oranssi Pazuzu in this album, it’s, again, like it’s all one mind and the only ego is the music itself. Before I get further into the kind of subjective abstraction this album seems to love encouraging me to dive headfirst into, I’ll get into the general technical aspects of it all.

First of all, the mixing of all the ingredients going into this album, for all sheer size of the sound being captured here, is a freaking feat of excellence and whoever mixed this thing deserves to take a bow. It’s not all crisp and clear the whole way through like some polished up techdeath record, but every phase in and out of the forefront and background of the mix is timely and constructive to the continuously sprawling movements of the compositions across the album. The drums really act as the album’s heartbeat in a way that few album’s drum sections can truly be described, pumping faster through the panic-inducing moments and maintaining a steady hypercardia through the calmer, yet still unsafe moments in the album. The guitars and bass provide the foundational aspects of the reasoning behind whatever is raising the album’s blood pressure, tastefully distorted and even maxed the hell out when the moment calls for it, and deceptively entrancing in their dark serenity of their hypnotically soothing dissonance when the tension needs to be built, never flashy or distracting, always committed to the greater good of the music of the album as a whole rather than any one instrumentalist’s turn for some time in the spotlight. And speaking of the spotlight, the part of the music that is usually prone to hogging it is as selfless and complimentary on this album as the rest of the band. The demonically liturgical, gravelly snarled vocals aren’t really flashy by any means either, but that’s not to say that the haunting hypnosis of the vocals is without character. Indeed, the vocals may be not be shooting for technical pizazz, but vocalist Jun-His really is playing a voice on the album and not just vocals behind a microphone. The vocal performances across the album (including all the effects used to enhance and accent then) really work beyond just the musical and extend into the theatrical, the voice of the album really coming from an otherworldly being all its own when the album is on.

Like I said, Oranssi Pazuzu has been melting and remolding black metal to do their bidding for over a decade, and the band continues to reform the genre much in ways that bands like Neurosis so vividly warps sludge and post-metal into something all their own and how Swans’ most recent incarnations have stretched out and apocalyptified the basic elements of rock music to a possibly maximal extreme. I mention that because I really am reminded so heavily of the genius of Swans and Neurosis with the way Oranssi Pazuzu approaches black metal in such an unrecognizable, yet unmistakable way on Mestarin Kynsi.

The creepy synth motif that traces through the eerie psychedelic guitars of the opening track, “Ilmestys” are brilliant and immediately mood-setting alone, but the freakish accents that also run through the song just heighten the tension even more, making the burst into the warped, but awe-inspiring metallic crescendo near the song’s end such a fulfilling payoff. It’s a tactfully tempered, brilliantly accented, and expertly strategically arranged, cinematic opening to an album that subsequently continues to build on that cinematic grandiosity set up by its opening track in a further display of specialty mastery by its progenating artists.

Taking a slightly more patient approach in the aftermath of the opener, the second track, “Tyhjyyden sakramentti” is a bit more of a gradual build through several sections of gradually thickening metallic psychedelia that takes all sorts of twists and turns through spooky and trippy swirls of forcefully mesmerizing guitar noise. The band integrates all sorts of effects on the guitars with great intuition on how to . The song eventually reaches a simple, straightforward guitar riff for a few seconds, which is very soon sucked into a synthy reverberation that sounds like it takes a quick breath of fresh, sober reality and immediately plunges it back into the synesthetic nightmare of shimmering, yet discomforting ambiance the song has so expertly conjured up.

The longest song on the album, “Uusi teknokratia”, winds its way through these fuzzed and hazed out Sabbathian riffs and super creepy hyperventilating (yet uncannily calm) vocal hums and haunting echoes of black metal screams. Similarly hypertension-inducing, dark-night, full-moon ritualistic guitar atmospherics of a wide variety of speeds, timbres join in in cementing the frightful visions that the song is conjuring. The plinky synths and anxiety-inducing uncanny calmness of the soft vocals really give this song such an immersive sense of under-the-surface panic and uneasiness during the buildup to the thicker body portions of the composition, which make great use of the tension that’s built up, both giving the release of that tension a fitting of the type of horror that the tension foreshadows and bringing the energy back down in a manner that allows the tension to build up again for another gratifying payoff rather than being completely expended, including the dark ambient drone that rounds out the track to set up the unease for the next one.

It’s a foreboding string motif, eventually treated with some warped/slowed-record pitch distortion, that opens the album’s fourth track, “Oikiamielisten sali”. After this arguably over-extended intro, the song then bursts through with these bright synth lines and electronically fuzzy guitar lines that eventually ramp up to yet another level of entrancing, distorted guitar ether that manage to encapsulate a feeling of out-of-body dread amid some disorienting other-worldly storm, which is even more terrifyingly transcendent in its lengthy, multi-phased climactic finish that more than makes up for the length of the intro it took to get there. The ethereal first half of the climax and the pulsing pounding of the drums underneath the instruments’ power-down/fade-out on the second half are just so godly, and they lead seamlessly into the darkest moment of the album.

“Kuulen ääniä maan alta” kicks off with a low-register electronic drone over a driving mid-paced beat and some twisted horn samples that immediately turn the fearfully heavenly mood from the preceding track sour (in a great way). Far more fierce and menacing than anything else on the track list, “Kuulen ääniä maan alta” takes an entirely unique approach to the concept of heaviness, guitar distortion and crashing drums being merely a portion of the grand orchestra of haunting sounds on display.

The album ends with a real boom with the song “Taivan Portii”, which instantly kicks off with a flurry of distorted guitars, warped and spirit-summoning synths, and driving blasts of drumming that all mount into this huge, gargantuan wave of sound that just swirls around and back and forth in a final expulsion of unhidden, unrestrained psychedelic black metal power, like a coercive malevolent deity that has finally revealed its true form and power and whose breath-stealing display prompts only simple terrified admiration in helpless, accepted anticipation of its exercise.

This album is so immersive in the disfigured world it brings to life, so accomplished in the style the band have been honing from the beginning of their career, and so impressively composed and well-directed, it’s honestly hard to stop talking about and hard to avoid in exchange for listening to something else, it’s like I’ve been hypnotized into repeatedly returning to its best inhuman seance. Or maybe I’m just addicted to a fucking great album. It is a truly singular display of a band creating something so much bigger than themselves on a sonic level. I don’t understand a word on it, but I can’t get over this album, and I can’t imagine how much more I would have to pour into this review if I were to try to find and translate the lyrics. But either way, this thing is an artistic monolith and a real declaration of the band’s importance. I’ve been listening to it over and over again, thinking admittedly way more than I really should about how to score this thing, and every time I listen to it and analyze for flaws I just end up loving it more for new reasons as it unfolds and unfolds over and over. You could argue that the length of the intro to “Oikiamielisten sali” is an imperfection, but I’m not going to fixate on a lengthy spacy intro on a psychedelic album as a flaw like a slightly long nose hair on a beautiful woman. To me, I can justify calling this thing imperfect, barely, but it’s not worth it. I believe in love. To me, Mestarin Kynsi is a...

10/10

[hikarikirameku]

After the Sun Sets

I’ve debated, and I’ve decided to post the full fic on Tumblr as well, since I guess some people don’t like AO3? *shrugs* (As always though, the fic can be found here: [X] Since this is playing catch-up, I’m going to post all three chapters in one go under the cut, with chapters separated by line breaks. Summary:  Miguel makes it home after his fateful Día de Muertos. Everything appears to be back to normal, but little does he know the curse still lingers... 

After the Sun Sets: Sundown

It had been a long day for Miguel. Even longer considering the fact that he hadn't actually slept yet. During that fateful Día de Muertos, he had managed to get himself cursed, gotten nearly killed twice by his former idol, found his long-lost great-great-grandpa Hector, barely got his blessing to get sent home before the sun completely rose, and had managed to successfully spark Mamá Coco's memories to save Hector from succumbing to the Final Death. After all of that, he still had one last challenge...how he was going to survive the aftermath of having disappeared for the entire night from his living family.

He knew he was going to need some kind of explanation. His parents weren't about to let him off the hook that easily. If only he could tell them the truth without sounding absolutely crazy. Fortunately, he had a reprieve. After Mamá Coco had shared her memories of her Papá Hector with the family, the family was too stunned at the seemingly miraculous events to want to have to spoil them with any more family drama for the time being. Miguel's father, Enrique, merely told Miguel that he was to stay in the family hacienda until further notice. That was easy, since once the exhaustion of the evening caught up with him, he immediately went to his room, hid the guitar under his bed as a precaution, had a quick breakfast, a bath, and a change of clothes into a comfy t-shirt and jeans combo, he fell asleep in his room soon after.

A few hours later, he was woken up by his mother, Luisa, for lunch. His mother wasn't about to let him sleep all day, even if he was still groggy. After lunch, he at least confessed as to where the guitar had come from. So now, the adults were currently preoccupied with how to explain a stolen guitar from a tomb, even if it had belonged to a family member. Miguel stubbornly refused to give it back. He couldn't tell them about it, but he refused to let that precious guitar sit in tomb of its rightful owner's murderer any longer.

Instead, he made the argument that it rightfully belonged to the Riveras, and that the photo proved it. The letters Mamá Coco had kept also proved that Hector's songs had also been stolen, and Ernesto de la Cruz didn't deserve the praise he had been given at all, let alone having Hector's guitar in his tomb. Not knowing what had come over Miguel all of a sudden, but seeing how adamant he was about some sort of justice being done, his father and his  Berto decided they would talk to the city officials about it.

In the meantime, Miguel busied himself with cleaning the guitar. He borrowed some soft brushes and a clean polishing cloth from the workshop, and carefully coaxed the dust out from the nooks and crannies of the guitar, restoring it to its former glory. It really was still a sight to behold. A beautiful, one of a kind instrument, that had finally found its way home. He couldn't even be upset that it had caused him to be cursed the past night. He just wished there was some way he could give it to Hector without having to wait.

He sighed, resigning himself. "Next year, at least", he said to the guitar, as if it could understand him. "Mamá Coco remembered her papa, so he should be okay. His photo can be put on the ofrenda, he can cross over, and I'll make sure you're there waiting for him. He should be able to do that....thing...I saw the other skeletons do, and take you with him, right? At least sort of?".

He knew the physical guitar would still, at least, be left behind.

"...and I may not be Papá Hector, but I promise I'll take care of you just like he would!", he said earnestly.

While he didn't think the guitar was really listening, and definitely didn't expect an answer, it made him feel better to talk to someone...or something in this case. He couldn't exactly talk to his family about any of this. Normally, he'd talk to Dante about his troubles but, even if he was around and not in the Land of the Dead as a new alebrije, he still wouldn't have been able to sneak him into his room.

"You know though?", he continued as he took the guitar and absentmindedly strummed a few notes, "If I could, I really would love to see Papá Hector, Mamá Imelda, and everyone else again...if, you know...it wasn't so dangerous".

He wasn't exactly too keen on pushing his luck after his previous brushes with death. As it was, the memories made him shudder, causing the note he was currently playing to waver a bit.

He decided to focus on happier memories instead, and before he knew it, he was performing a much less raucous version of "Un Poco Loco". His family let him keep the guitar for now, but he wasn't willing to push his luck. For right now, at least, he was content to be able to play quietly in his room and he was hope that the music ban would be lifted for good.

Eventually he tried working on playing the melody of "La Llorona", reminiscing about his Mamá Imelda's amazing performance (as well as stomping on Ernesto's foot, which made him smile to himself). It was during this time his mother knocked on the door, coming in to check on him. Startled, he let out a small gasp, and there was a soft "thunk" against the guitar as he muted the sound of the strings.

"C-come in..." he called out tentatively, his nervous, sheepish smile on his face as his mother peeked inside.

"I-I'm being good mama, I promise. Look, I cleaned Papá Hector's guitar! I just got bored so I...was playing...i-if that's okay?".

Luisa merely smiled.

"Está bien. Just don't play too loudly. I don't think your abuelita is still too used to the idea of music in the house again just yet".

As she saw Miguel frown a little, she added, "But I hope you'll be able to play some of those lovely songs for your little sister someday."

He lit up at that, and his mother smiled once again before taking her leave. He remembered that his mother would have listened to music before he was born, before she'd married his father. She had to give up music for family. After last night, he finally understood what that felt like. Now, however, he was on the verge of seeing it returned, as it should be. It was a bit surreal, almost as if his Mamá Imelda's change of heart had somehow crossed the threshold of death, and made it to her living family as well.

He made a mental note to ask his mother what some of her favorite songs had been. He might be able to learn to play some of them for her later.

Miguel mostly stuck to his room the rest of the afternoon, barring a quick trip to visit his Mamá Coco in her room. He had wanted to tell her of his adventures in the Land of the Dead, and meeting her Papá (as Mamá Coco was the only person he was willing to tell). However, his abuelita Elena was already in there at the time, so he merely ended up peeking in. Mamá Coco seemed to have started becoming her usual forgetful self again. Miguel would make sure to play "Remember Me" for her as many times as he could, to help her remember. Even if she'd passed down Hector's stories, protecting his memories for generations to come, it was still sad to think about her slowly forgetting about him again.

Eventually heading back to his room, he had taken to the task of coming up with an appropriate place to keep the guitar. A guitar stand of some kind would have been preferable, but on such short notice, it wasn't an option. He eventually made due by clearing a corner of his room of the bit of clutter any 12-year-old tends to have, and set a spare pillow there. He placed the body of the guitar on it, and carefully leaned it against the wall, so it was snug. Satisfied with his work, he smiled and hopped out to his bed, opening the nearby window above it.

The early evening air felt wonderful, and was still a comfortable temperature. He leaned on his windowsill to just appreciate the view, and the slight breeze on his face. As it neared closer to sunset, his little town of Santa Cecilia was bathed in orange hues reminiscent of the stray Marigold petals that still scattered the ground after last night's celebrations.

He heard his mother knock on his door.

"Miguelito, dinner's about ready. Go get cleaned up and come eat."

"Okay!", he called back, and closed his window and curtains for the time being, hopping off the bed and heading towards the door.

It was as he reached out to turn the doorknob that he saw it. A foreboding tinge of white at his fingertips, the skin turning transparent with only the faintest outline.

It took a moment for him to process what he was seeing, but there was no mistake...

Somehow, horrifyingly, he was once again becoming cursed.

“AAAAAAAHHH!!!!!” Miguel screamed in horror, and stumbled backward til he was on the floor, his legs giving out from the shock. He stared at his hands, the skin on his fingertips completely transparent now, and quickly disappearing down his fingers. Not only was he still cursed, it was happening so much faster than last time! “NO! Nononono! This can’t be right! I got my blessing! What is going-!!!”, he gasped, his eyes widened as he heard footsteps quickly approaching his door. Scrambling up off the floor, he got to the door just in time to lock it before his mother could reach it. “MIGUEL! Are you alright, mijo?!”, Luisa called out, her voice concerned. She tried to enter, but the locked doorknob merely rattled. When she heard no reply, her voice became even more anxious. “Miguel, what’s wrong?! Please open the door!”. More frantic footsteps followed, this time Miguel’s father and abuela. “N-NO! DON’T! DON’T COME IN!”, he cried out in panic from his position on the floor, his voice shaky from his body trembling. He knew the last thing he wanted was for his family to see him as a skeleton, as he was sure he would be soon at this rate. The curse had finished its work with his hands, and was now creeping up his lower arms. Of course, his outburst only served to make matters worse, as his family on the other side of the door were now desperate to get in there. “Migue! It’s Papá! Please, open the door!”, Enrique begged. Off to the side Miguel hear him add “Mamá, go get the keys!”, and Mamá Elena was off to fetch them, wondering where Miguel’s newfound habit of locking them out of rooms today was coming from. It was only a matter of time before his family would see him at this point. Miguel tried to think, but the gears of his mind screeched to a halt as he watched the curse claim his upper arms. He pulled up his shirt, and sure enough, only his hip bone and spine met his gaze, with his ribs quickly following. It took most of his remaining willpower at that moment not to faint, as he caught himself from falling over on the floor completely.

In full-on panic mode now, an even worse thought crossed his mind. What if he was about to get sent back to the Land of the Dead? What if he’d still end up stuck there for good, regardless of the blessing? Even if he wasn’t, It was only a matter of time before his family managed to get in there and they’d see him like this, and how was he going to explain?! Either way, he was trapped and out of options. At this point, he did the only thing his panicked, 12-year-old mind could think to do…

He dove into his bed and buried himself under the covers. By the time Luisa, Enrique, and Mamá Elena got into the room, the only hint of Miguel was a sobbing, shaking mound of blanket. The crossed look on Mamá Elena’s face softened, as his parents gave each other brief worried looks before Luisa made the first move. “Mijo?” Miguel heard his mother moving closer towards the bed. He wrapped the blanket around himself and pulled back closer to the wall, sniffling loudly. He felt a shift on his bed to his left, his mother sitting on the edge of it beside him, and soon on his right when his father followed suit. He couldn’t see his Mamá Elena, but he was sure she was most likely standing in front of the small bed. He was surrounded. He wondered if the rest of the family was also listening in on them all at this point too. “Mijo, it’s okay...we’re not angry. Your papá and I are only worried about you. Please, tell us what’s wrong?” He felt his mother’s hand rest gently on his shoulder. He flinched and pulled back, bumping up against the wall and clutching the blanket even closer. “N-NO!...I-it’s not...it’s not okay!” Miguel choked out between tears. He wished at that point that he could become invisible to the living like before, but it didn’t seem he was so lucky. From their next response, they had clearly heard him. It was his father who spoke up this time. “Mijo...I know we weren’t...the most understanding yesterday, but I promise, whatever it is you have to say, we’ll listen.” “Your family is here for you”, Mamá Elena added. “So, whatever is worrying you, we’re here to help.” His mother gently caressed the back of Miguel’s blanket-covered head, and he flinched, though this time he didn’t back away. He could feel himself shaking like a maraca, and thought it was a small miracle his bones weren’t rattling, though it might have been drowned out by the pounding of his heart in his chest...the feeling of which was now the only sign it was still even there.

He wished he could tell them, he wanted to be able to tell him, but he wasn’t even sure how. He was sure no matter which way he tried, they’d freak out (dios knows he did), and he wasn’t even sure if they wouldn’t kick him out of the house at that point. What would he do then?! He didn’t even want to think about it. He felt his mother move to pull him closer and try to calm him. At first he clutched at his protective blanket and refused to budge, but then found himself slowly allowing himself to be drawn towards her...desperate for some form of relief. Without relinquishing the blanket, he slowly allowed himself to shuffle into his mother’s embrace all the same, and she wrapped her arm around him and gently held him to her side. He couldn’t be more thankful that, as transparent as it was, his skin and flesh were still there, keeping his bones from betraying his current state to his mother’s touch. He then felt his father’s hand on his head, almost as if to ruffle his hair, before joining his mother by bringing his arm around Miguel’s other side. His abuela also came close and patted his head, but had to resign herself to standing nearby since the bed was already full. He just sat in his parents’ embrace, sobbing, not sure what to say or do. Luisa caressed the back of his head once more, but this time the blanket shielding it pulled back, and by the time he realized, it was too late. He could see his family, and they could see him, or at least his face. He froze, his eyes wide, like a deer caught in the headlights. What did he look like now?! His mother merely smiled gently as she brushed tears away from his eyes. “Está bien, I’m here...nothing to be scared of…”, and gave him another hug, before his father gave him a hair-ruffle for real. Miguel could just look back and forth at them all, his mind racing...how did they not notice anything wrong? Could they not see it? The curse had already had plenty of time to overtake him...unless it didn’t? He gently pulled away from his mother before moving back towards the window. He nudged the curtains open just slightly with his blanket-covered hands, enough to see his reflection in the window glass.

He was greeted by a red, tear-streaked, but still very much alive-looking face. His skin, cheeks, and the dimple he was so fond of were all still there, much to his surprise and relief. It wasn’t affected by the cursed. Could, by chance, this whole thing have been some kind of dream or hallucination? He risked peeking down under his blanket, so only he could see. His sliver of hope was soon crushed, however. As he looked down, he could see the bones of his sternum and collarbone peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt. He quickly wrapped himself back up tightly. He was still most definitely cursed. While it was a small comfort to know that at least the curse didn’t overtake him completely, he still had no idea what exactly he was going to do. He was back to square one, and still very much surrounded.

His odd behavior didn’t go unnoticed. “Migue? You’ve been acting strange this whole time. What’s wrong? Can you tell us?”, Enrique said, gently, but concerned. “Ay, Mijo...I know I was hard on you yesterday. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been. I want you to be able to trust me, us, to trust your family”. He could tell his Mamá Elena was trying at an awkward apology. He turned to face all of them again, shuffling back into the space between his mother and father, tears still in his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to tell them, how to tell them. He still didn’t even know exactly what was going on. It was all too much. “I…”, he finally managed to say in a shaky voice, barely above a whisper, “I want to. I want to be able to...to tell you...but, I don’t… I mean… it’s crazy. I’m not even really sure what’s going on.” He was barely able to keep his train of thought. Could he do this? Or, would he just resign himself to spending the rest of the foreseeable future as a blanket burrito? The last option was definitely the most appealing right now, but it wouldn’t do anything except delay the inevitable. He was sure there was no escaping his family this time. It was a miracle they hadn’t interrogated him this morning when he’d come back after disappearing all last night, and those rarely happen twice in one day. “It doesn’t have to be everything, if it’s too overwhelming. Just start by what you’re most comfortable with, and we can go from there”, Luisa encouraged him. He couldn’t have been more thankful for their patience at this point. He knew, however, that he was about to put it to the test. “Okay”, he said softly. “You have to promise me you’ll listen to everything though, no matter how loco it sounds…” Luisa, Enrique, and Mamá Elena all looked at each other with slightly concerned, slightly confused looks before looking back to Miguel. “O...kay?”, said Enrique, not really sure what to expect. “Seriously, this is going to be the craziest thing you've ever heard in your life”. More awkward looks from his family. Miguel just sighed. He was still nervous, but it was time to get this over with. He took a deep breath to calm himself, like he did before a performance, and did his best to steel himself before he launched full-bore into his story. “Okay...Last night I got cursed by trying to take that guitar, ended up like a ghost, met our dead family, who were all skeletons, and spent the night in the Land of the Dead trying to get a blessing to come home from my great-great-grandpa because Mamá Imelda refused to give it to me unless I never played music again. I thought it was De la Cruz so I tried to meet him, and I did, but then it wasn’t, and it turned out he’d murdered Papá Hector for his songs, and Papá Hector was my real great-great-grandpa, but I didn’t know cause the picture was torn and my only clue was the guitar, which was also stolen. We tried to get his other photo to bring back, cause De la Cruz took that too, so he could see Mamá Coco one more time, cause he was disappearing cause she was forgetting him, but I lost it when I got thrown off the...err…”, he decided not to elaborate on that part, “...but anyways, the sun was coming up, and I was about to be stuck there as a skeleton forever, so Papá Hector and Mamá Imelda gave me their blessing with no conditions, and I came back and saved Papá Hector by making Mamá Coco remember with their song…” He was breathing hard and talking a mile a minute, knowing full well his parents and Mamá Elena were already at a complete loss, and just wanted to get it over with. “But even though I got their blessing, and the curse should have been broken, for some reason I’m cursed again! I don’t know!” And with that, Miguel finished his story. The embarrassment of how ridiculous it all must have sounded made his already red face even brighter, and he held is head in his blanket-covered hands. He wasn’t surprised by what came next. “Mijo, what...?” “Cursed?” His Mamá Elena wasn’t really sure what to think, but she’d caught the words ‘cursed’ and ‘guitar’ in the same sentence, and threw a glare at it in the corner of the room all the same. “It wasn’t the guitar’s fault!”, Miguel’s face shot back up, sensing the danger. Even if he wasn’t sure she even believed him, there was no doubt in his mind his Mamá Elena wouldn’t take a chancla out on the guitar if she got even a hint of suspicion it had done something to harm her grandson. He figured she was still merely tolerating its presence as it was, priceless family heirloom or not.

It was then Miguel heard muttering from outside his door. His extended family members were out there too, eavesdropping. Miguel wasn’t surprised. At any rate, the amount of crazy he’d just dropped was too much for them to stay quiet any longer. Miguel once again pressed his face into his blanket with a groan, frustrated that even though he worked up the courage to tell them the truth (albeit a very confusing, abridged version) that it was still getting him nowhere.

“Migue, what...do you mean? I’m sure it was just a dream?”.

“It wasn’t a dream either! Argh , I knew you weren’t gonna believe me. I mean, I told you it was loco. It’s true though, I… I can prove it...”. That last part was more softly and reluctantly than the rest, as he really didn’t want to have to show them anything. He knew it wasn’t going to end well, but he also knew his options were also very limited at this point.

‘Well, if I’m going to get this over with, I might as well all at once’, he thought.

“Everyone should just come in, if you’re just spying on me anyway”, his reluctance giving way to a hint of annoyance. Sometimes he really wished his entire family didn’t have to get involved. Bad enough he was going to have to show his parents. Still, there wasn’t any use in keeping secrets once anyone in his family found out anyways, so he just resigned himself to getting this all over with at once.

To be honest, it wasn’t really easy for everyone to gather in Miguel’s tiny room, but they managed. His Tías and Tío lined up behind Mamá Elena, while his primos Rosa and Abel stood behind their parents closer to the door. He could see the two twins chasing each other back and forth outside the door, the only ones too young to be interested in the family drama. Everyone else was looking at him with mixed expressions of worry, confusion, and incredulity. He merely looked back at them with nervousness, as he overheard his Tías and Tío muttering something about him making up wild stories, and Rosa was rolling her eyes at him and shaking her head as she said something to her brother. He started to regret calling them in. “Miguel?” His mother put her arm on where she figured his was under his blanket, a look of concern on her face. “I know you don’t believe me mamá, but I swear I’m not crazy, and I’m not making this up”. “But…” “Just...just look”, he said, exasperated, as he held out his right arm, though the blanket still draped over it. “This is going to be scary, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The annoyance in his voice hid his trepidation, though his trembling body betrayed otherwise. While he still wasn’t sure if this was even the right thing to do, he slowly pulled the blanket away with his still-covered left hand. The arm Miguel revealed was nothing but bones, their shining white reflecting the soft yellow of the light from his room. The outline of his transparent skin shimmered, the rest practically invisible.

It took a moment for his family to register what they were seeing. To Miguel, it was almost like watching in slow-motion, as the expressions changed from doubt to shock and horror. A chorus of small gasps could be heard, hands were drawn over mouths, and Miguel immediately regretted his spur-of-the-moment decision. His resolve shattering by the second, his arm slowly dropped to his side before he drew it back under his blanket. Then...

“Ah, no, don’t faint!” Miguel yelled, as his mother, Mamá Elena, and surprisingly, his cousin Abel all nearly succumbed. The latter two were steadied by the rest of the standing family, while Miguel managed to support his mother long enough for Enrique to intervene, quickly moving over and supporting Luisa from behind. Almost everyone, whether they’d realized it or not, had backed away from Miguel, save for his mother and father who had been forced to stay near the bed. Everyone present looked like they’d seen a ghost. Well, Miguel was close enough. He quickly looked back and forth at the scene. He’d known this was bound to happen, but he hadn’t planned for the aftermath. He hadn’t really had a plan for any of this. All he knew is the looks he was getting from his family hurt , even more than any of the reactions he’d gotten from the skeletons in the Land of the Dead. The looks of absolute shock, horror, confusion, and disbelief, and worse yet, fear , written on their now pale faces filled Miguel with feelings of shame, embarrassment, and guilt. “I’m sorry…”, was all he could manage to say. A horrible, awkward silence permeated the room. Miguel couldn’t stand it. He wanted to reassure them, but couldn’t. His earlier reaction was proof enough he was just as freaked out as they were, and he was still almost just as clueless. He’d tried to handle this as best he could, but he’d finally hit his limit. His route was open and before anyone knew it, he’d jumped off the bed, still clutching his blanket, and ran. He barely missed bowling over the twins right outside the door. He kept going, past the kitchen area, and the dinner that had been waiting for everyone.

He wasn’t really thinking. He just knew he needed to escape, to get away, to go someplace safe. His legs automatically led him to the one place he felt he could go at this point, to the one person who hadn’t been present during this whole ordeal, but who he’s always felt he could tell everything to. He ran to his Mamá Coco.

Miguel didn’t have far to go. Mamá Coco was in the ofrenda room, sitting quietly in her wicker wheelchair as always. He ran to her, falling to his knees, arms crossed in her lap, and just sobbed into his blanket. As he knelt there, wracked with sobs, his Mamá Coco merely gave him a gentle smile as she gently patted his head with her withered hand.

-----

It took a minute or two for the rest of the family to register what had just happened, and by then, Miguel was gone. Again.

Luisa looked to Enrique, to the door, then back to her husband.

“Miguel...w-we need to find him!” she whispered, her shock slowly being replaced with worry. She had a bit of difficulty getting up off the bed thanks to her pregnant belly, but Enrique was there to offer assistance. He was also still looking a bit shaken, but was also becoming more concerned with his son’s well-being.

“I don’t think he would have gone far...we'll search the hacienda first.” He said, and two of them were out the door without another word. Mamá Elena watched them leave, and it took her a moment to collect herself before she turned to the remaining Riveras, finally finding her words. “We’ll all look for him,” she ordered. While Papá Franco wasn’t one to argue with his wife, the rest of them were a little less than enthusiastic, looking around at each other with apprehension, murmuring comments to each other. “Ay, Dios mio...” Mamá Elena said, shaking her head. She stepped up as Matriarch and rallied the troops. “I know we’re all shaken up over this...curse, or whatever it is we’re dealing with here, but our poor Miguelito must be more frightened than any of us. I’ve told him his family will be there for him, and I’ll be damned if I’m taking that back now.” “So, no more complaints, find him before dinner gets cold. He can’t have gotten far in just socks. VÁMANOS,” she yelled that last bit, reaching for her chancla. No one needed to be told twice. They decided they’d much rather deal with a cursed child than her wrath at that particular moment.

Alone in the room, Mamá Elena took a moment and glanced at the guitar in the corner, and then shook her head. “Ay, this was my fault,” she muttered to herself with a hand on the bridge of her nose, before she also joined in the search.

-----

Miguel sat with his Mamá Coco, his eyes now out of tears, just kneeling with his head in his arms on her lap. He wasn’t sure what to say, or what to do. He’d only come here out of a last-ditch effort to find someone not terrified of him now. He looked up at his Mamá Coco’s wrinkled face, and she returned the look with a gentle, one-toothed smile. He couldn’t help but give a small smile back. Everything he’d gone through, everything he was going through now, was a result of the events that eventually saved his great-great-grandfather Hector, her papá, from being forgotten and disappearing forever. Knowing Hector would one day get to see Coco’s smile again after almost one hundred years of waiting made it all worthwhile. His only regret was that his living family would now be terrified of him. Would that even matter though? What would happen to him after sunrise? Had the blessing he received been just a bit too late? Just enough to send him back for one more day before he was forced back to the Land of the Dead as a permanent resident? He tried to banish the thought from his mind. There was no telling what would happen, but there was no point in thinking of the worst-case scenario either. It wouldn’t do any good. His Mamá Coco looked down with gently questioning eyes. He was sure she’d been curious as to why he had suddenly come running into her room crying his eyes out, but she hadn’t spoken. To be honest, he wasn’t sure if she even realized who he was right then, but she also didn’t seem to be the type to turn away a child in need of comfort. Miguel’s thoughts were interrupted, and his head shot up as he heard footsteps coming his direction. Were they looking for him? What were they planning on doing with him now? He wasn’t ready for that just yet. “Mamá Coco, don’t tell anyone I’m here,” he whispered to her, before he scrambled under the ofrenda tablecloth, moving under the far left side where the vases of flowers blocked the underside from being easily accessible, clutching his blanket and trying his best to breath as quietly as possible. Just in time, because a moment later, his Tia Carmen came running into the room looking for him. “Miguel? Are you in here?” she called. He didn’t answer. Her footsteps paced the room, and Miguel’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of the middle tablecloth being pulled up. He held his breath. Then there was the sound of cloth being dropped, and footsteps rushing back out. “He’s not in the ofrenda room either!” he heard her call to what he could assume was the rest of the search party.

As the footsteps faded, he left out a sigh of relief. It’s a good thing he thought not to hide in the middle, but after using it to hide Dante and his makeshift guitar, he knew it’d be the first place he’d look, and figured the adults might too this time. Crawling back around, he peeked to make sure the coast was truly clear, before coming back out from under the table. “That was close...thanks for not telling them I was here Mamá Co-” he stopped. The blanket had gotten snagged on the way out, and had pulled away from him. He looked down at his now exposed arms, then back at his Mamá Coco. She merely stared at him a moment before giving a small smile. Did she not realize it was real? Maybe she thought it was a costume? She beckoned him over to her. He slowly, anxiously complied. “M-Mamá Coco?” he asked, unsure. She had held out her hand, wanting Miguel to take it. The calmness of the situation was almost eerie, and made him uneasy given what had just happened with the rest of the family. Still, he tentatively placed his hand in hers, and she drew him in closer to inspect it. As usual, her hands felt almost as boney as his now looked but, despite that, were still warm and soft. She rubbed the back of his transparent hand with her thumb. “Um...Mamá Coco?” No reply. She merely turned his hand over, and poked at his palm a bit. He couldn’t help but stifle a small smile at his Mamá Coco’s investigation. He found it amusing. His hands still had the feel of flesh, despite it being practically invisible. At least she seemed to be taking it well. “You met papá.” She finally spoke. It wasn’t a question. More like she was merely confirming it. He was surprised. It had been the last thing he’d expected to hear. Had she actually heard him when he told her earlier? Or had she managed to connect the dots on her own after? Either way, if you really thought about it, it would have been the only way Miguel would have known the things he did. “S-sí, you might not remember, but I told you this morning,” he answered. “It’s a long story but... I was cursed, and stuck in the Land of the Dead. I met your papá, learned who he was, how he died, and how much he loved you and wanted to come home. No one had put his picture up, so he wasn’t ever able to cross the bridge to see you, but he wanted to more than anything. He sang your song for me, that’s how I learned it. I heard your Mamá sing too, “La Llorona," while your Papá played the guitar. It was beautiful, like you said in your story.”” Mamá Coco was smiling, giving Miguel’s hand a light squeeze. She definitely believed him. It was obvious from her face that memories she could still recall from her childhood were once again coming to the forefront. Miguel smiled, and he continued.

“Your Mamá and Papá looked like they’ll make up. They’ll be happy again. They sent me back with a blessing too, and I’m even allowed to play music, but...” his smile was short-lived as he looked down at his hands. “It doesn’t look like it worked. I had to get my blessing by sunrise, and I thought I did, but now I think it was just a little late,” he said, with a look of sadness and worry. “You’ll be alright, mijo,” his Mamá Coco said as she cupped his hand in both of hers.

He knew she couldn’t be sure, but she was trying to comfort him, and that alone made him feel a bit better. At least she believed him, she wasn’t afraid of him, and he was more than grateful for that than anything. At that moment, he help but give his Mamá Coco a big hug, though he was careful not to hug too tightly. She was rather fragile after all. Plus, it was going to be Papá Hector’s job to give her the biggest hug. “Thanks Mamá Coco....and...you’re really not afraid of me? This is real, you know," he asked, holding up his free hand and wiggling his boney-looking fingers. She shook her head with an amused smile. “Thank you for Papá’s message," was her only reply. For the first time that night, his tear-stained face beamed. He gave his Mamá Coco one more hug. As he pulled away from her, he noticed she was pointing behind him.

He turned around, and his bones nearly jumped out of what was left of his skin. “M-mamá, papá!?" Miguel shouted, having been caught completely off-guard. He jumped behind his Mamá Coco’s wheelchair, peeking out from over the back of it.

His parents tried to give him an awkward smile. They were relieved to have finally found him, but now that they had, they weren’t really sure what to do either. They were worried for their son, but at the same time, seeing him like that filled them with dread. It wasn’t a sight any parent would want to see of their child, and something any normal parent never would, but by some twist of impossible fate, here they were. How were they even supposed to handle this kind of thing?

They looked at Miguel, then back to each other. Enrique tried to make the first move, but Luisa put her hand on his shoulder, and he relinquished his attempt to her. After all, while Miguel did adore his papá, he knew if anything could coax out his son, it would be his mamá’s patience and warmth. It’s one of the reasons he fell in love with her, after all. “Miguel?" Luisa spoke softly to her son, trying not to spook him after he’d already run off once before. He still had an open door he could attempt to escape from after all. “S-si…mamá?" there was no hiding the nervousness in his voice. “Can you...will you come out?” Miguel ducked down even lower, so all that could be seen was his hair shaking back and forth.

“I don’t want to scare you again…" was all he said, a tinge of guilt and sadness in his voice. “Mijo, está bien ..it’s okay. This is a rather...well, odd circumstance, and your papá and I, well we weren’t really prepared for anything like this, but… we’re sorry we reacted the way we did.” Miguel shook his head again, peeking back up. “No, it’s freaky. It scares me too. I can’t really blame you. I mean…” He grasped the back of Mamá Coco’s wheelchair enough for his stark white fingertips to curl over the top. He could see his parents flash uncomfortable looks, but they were quick to put the brave faces back on for his sake. “It’s not really a normal thing to be able to see someone’s bones when they’re still on the inside," he added, rather sheepishly. He hated freaking out his parents more than he had to, but he also needed to know if he could really, truly expect them to try and accept him the way he was now, like his Mamá Coco had. Maybe, he thought, he could get them used to seeing it, little by little. “It doesn’t hurt, does it, mijo?" Enrique finally asked, worried. “Oh, no! It doesn’t at all.” Miguel shook his head again, quick to assuage any fears his parents had. “I actually don’t really feel any different. Ummm...actually…" he said, and they could tell from his voice he seemed to have gotten an idea, granted still unsure about it. He crouched down out of sight for a moment, before they noticed the shifting blanket on the floor. He was pulling it towards him. A moment later, he was confident enough to slowly step out, once again wrapped in its obscuring safety. He looked over to his Mamá Coco, before looking over to his parents.

“This is going to sound weird, but could you close your eyes?” His parents looked at each other, not really sure where he was going to go with this, before they looked back at him with bemused looks. “I promise I’m not going to run off again, so just...please?” He gave them a look like he was desperate for them to go along with whatever it was he was trying to do. “Alright mijo," his father relented. “Do you want us to just...stay here?” Miguel nodded. His parents did as he asked and closed their eyes. “Don’t peek, okay?" Miguel instructed. He cautiously started walking towards them. They were looking in his direction, following the sound the blanket made dragging across the floor. He stopped in front of them. They had looks of both bemusement and apprehension, but he appreciated that they were willing to play along when he knew they had to be just as nervous as he was. Letting the blanket fall, he reached out with trembling hands towards his parents, taking one of each or theirs in his. They flinched ever so slightly, but more out of surprised of being touched unexpectedly than anything. He’d gotten the idea from Mamá Coco inspecting his hands. Maybe, just maybe, they’d feel less anxious once they actually got to touch him? “See? It doesn’t feel weird. I don’t know how , but everything’s still there.”

Indeed, it was. If they didn’t know any better, they’d say he wasn’t cursed at all. He was still there, just as alive and warm as he’d always been. His mother let out a relieved sob, while his father fought back tears. Eyes still closed, they both followed Miguel’s arms to the rest of him, and embraced him. He tightly hugged them back. They didn’t flinch at his touch, and his eyes nearly became teary-eyed again from the happiness swelling in his chest. He knew then that they weren’t going to reject him. They still loved him. Even if they had trouble with his appearance, he’d understand too, but that’s something they could work on. He really could count on his family now, both Dead and Living.

“I-if you want, you can open your eyes now, but you don’t have to if you don’t want…" Miguel told them, as they released from the group hug. His parents opened their eyes, and Miguel gave an awkward sideways glance. He was relieved, but was still self-conscious about his appearance. He realized his parents wouldn’t be the only ones that would have to work on that. “I guess...I’ll have to get used to this again too...heh," he admitted, giving a small sheepish smile, rubbing his forearm. “It wasn’t so bad when I was only around a bunch of skeletons. They’d freak out and stare cause I was alive instead. Kinda funny if you think about it, right?” Miguel attempted to try and keep the mood from getting heavy again, now that most of the tension of the situation had dissipated. To be safe, he picked up his guardian blanket once again to wear. He’d take things slow. On second thought, he realized casually talking about skeletons might not be the way to go, but his parents didn’t seem to mind. “But...are you sure you’re going to be alright?” “Is there going to be any way we can...fix this?” His father and mother both asked, concerned. Well, it was only natural they’d be worried too. Miguel didn’t have any easy answer for them. “I don’t know. This was all supposed to be fixed already," he said, sadly.

His parents were silent for a moment, also looking disappointed at the lack of answers, before Enrique put on a more cheery face. “Well, we won’t get anywhere just moping around here. Your abuelita has dinner ready for us. Why don’t we eat first, and we can try and figure out the rest after?” “You’re hungry too, right?” His mother asked. “Yeah, I’m-" then he paused. “Umm, but if it’s alright with you, could I maybe...umm...eat in my room? I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with, you know, everyone else yet.” “As long as we can manage to convince your abuelita, but I think she’ll understand," Enrique nodded.

“Go wash up, and wait in your room. We’ll go round everyone up and let them know you’re safe," his mother instructed, and patted his head before she gave him a small nudge to his back to send him on his way. “Ah, and pick up your blanket so you don’t trip! I’ll be in to wash it later," she called as he made his way out. Once Miguel was out of sight, his mother finally broke down. Enrique held Luisa as she finally let loose all the tears she’d been holding back, and even he was misty-eyed as he tried to stay strong for his wife. Mamá Elena finally made her presence known, walking into the room and hugging the both of them. She had actually been the one to spot Miguel as he’d snuck out from under the ofrenda, but was wise enough to know she wasn’t the right person for the job, and alerted Enrique and Luisa instead. After instructing her husband to round up the others in the dining room, she had listened in from outside the doorway. “Ay, I think we could all use some time to help us deal with this. I’ll take Miguel’s dinner to him. You go sit with the rest of the family," she said, as she started to gently herd them to the dining room as well.

-----

Miguel was in the bathroom, washing his hands, making a frown at his reflection in the mirror as he did so. He hadn’t really seen that much of himself either. It really was no wonder everyone reacted how they had. In the Land of the Dead, outside of his hands, he’d been hidden by his hoodie most of the night, only getting glimpses of other bones here or there. Now, he could see nearly his entire arm, as well as his sternum and collarbone, even some upper ribs, peeking up from his collar. In the bright light, one could even make out the vertebrae of his lower neck, through his translucent skin there started to become more opaque as it got further up. He pulled up his shirt, and sure enough, nothing but spine and ribs, with his pelvic bone just peeking out over his jeans. “Man, this really is the worst…” he sighed, pulling his shirt back down.

“Well, at least my face is normal, I guess?” he then added, looking back in the mirror, poking his cheek with his skeletal finger, trying to stay positive.

With that, he decided there’d be more time to debate over his current form later. For now, he made his way out and went back to his room. He set his faithful blanket next to the bed, it’s duty over for now as it awaited it’s wash, before he hopped onto the bed. He’d left his door open slightly, though he still heard a soft knock on it regardless. “Come in, it’s open," he answered.

His Mamá Elena pushed the door in, carrying a small tray with a plate and a cup on it. “Ay, I know. I was just being polite," she replied. “Abuelita?! I thought mamá and papá would-” “I had them go and eat with the rest of the family. They need some time to come to terms with all of this, and I thought being with the rest of the family would help. I brought you dinner, plenty of leftovers from last night! We didn’t quite get through as much as we thought we would.”

“Sorry…" Miguel winced. He had a feeling that was probably his fault, since his family had spent most of the last night looking for him. “Nothing to apologize over," she said as she sat the tray down on a small table, and her face became soft. “Mijo, I’m the one who should apologize. I wouldn’t listen to you, and thanks to that, you went and got yourself into this mess. If I hadn’t smashed your guitar-” “Then Papá Hector would have been forgotten, Mamá Coco would never be able to see him again, and De La Cruz would have gotten away with everything," Miguel cut her off. “I’m glad you’re sorry for breaking my guitar, but I would totally do everything last night over again. Plus, I got a new guitar anyways,” he motioned to his Papá Hector’s guitar in the corner, with a smile. “Ummm, I’m actually wondering more how you don’t seem all that, you know, more weirded out by all of this," he motioned to himself. Mamá Elena chuckled. “Sometimes being old and superstitious can work in your favor. If I can believe in spirits visiting and musical curses, this isn’t that much of a stretch. Though, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that it breaks my heart to see you like that, my poor mijo," she admitted, he face looking saddened. “It’s not as bad as it looks though, I mean, I’m otherwise pretty normal...I think. I mean, everything feels normal, and I still get hungry, and-” “Ay, and here I am yapping and keeping you from dinner!” she exclaimed. “I brought you plenty, so eat up. If you need anything, just holler.” With that, she gave Miguel a big kiss on his cheek, and left the room. Miguel just kind of stared after her for a second, slightly stunned. Everyone seemed to be taking this in so many different ways, it was hard to keep up. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and focused instead on the tray his abuela had left him. It was piled high with a variety of foods from the night before, way more than he could ever possibly hope to finish. “Abuelita ~" he whined to himself, rolling his eyes, before taking his tray and setting it on his bed.

He sat next to it, plate on his lap, drink still on the tray so it wouldn’t spill. At first he was a bit apprehensive about his dinner. Would he even be able to eat normal food like this? He experimented with a nibble, and after succeeding in swallowing it, decided that he was okay. A thought crossed his mind part-way through his meal, wondering if he’d be able to see the food in his stomach if he looked, but he didn’t dare. That was a mystery he was very happy not to answer that particular night (but maybe later, if he could work up the courage). For now, he just relished the peace and quiet, something he found he really did need after everything that had happened. He let his mind focus on his food. When he’d eaten what he could, he set the tray back down on his table, and laid back on his bed to relax.

What a crazy day it had been. He thought about everything he’d been through even within the last twenty-four hours. He’d still been running around the Land of the Dead by this point last night, then there were the crazy events from just that day, and his evening. This would definitely be the absolute craziest Día de Muertos holiday that would happen in his entire life, he was sure about that. He started wondering what his life might be like from here on out. He might be able to hide everything easily enough in these cooler winter months with long sleeves and gloves, but summer was going to be brutal. Would he even still be able to go to school? How long would he have to live like this? That’s assuming he was still there in the morning... “Uuurgh...I don’t want to think about it," he moaned to himself as he let his arm drop to his side and flop over the edge of the bed. He was mentally and physically drained, but at the same time, too anxious to want to sleep. He still had a lingering feeling of dread over what might await him come sunrise.

His thoughts were interrupted by another knock on his door. “Mijo, have you finished your dinner?" it was his Mamá Elena again. “Yeah, come in. Everything’s on the table.” Miguel didn’t bother getting up. As his abuela walked in, she saw him moping on the bed, put her hands on her hips, and gave a sympathetic sigh. She could understand he was feeling depressed. She looked over at his plate, noticing the uneaten portions. “Are you sure that’s all you’re eating? You poor thing, you should eat more. You’re nothing but skin and bones,” she said, a sly grin on her face. She’d seen her chance and took it. Miguel’s face shot up, giving her a mildly annoyed expression that just said ‘ Really?! ’, before he flopped his head back down and gave a chuckle. “That was a horrible joke, abuelita.” “Yes, but you laughed,” she smiled back. “Your mamá will be in soon to collect your laundry, so go ahead and get changed for bed before she gets here. We’ll wash your bedding too, while we at it, so we need you up. Come, up, up!” She nudged at him a little, coaxing him off the bed. “Alright, alright,” Miguel conceded, a playful tone in his voice. It was hard for him to believe he was having a normal interaction with anyone in his family that night. He seriously wondered how his abuela was taking everything so well, despite what she’d said earlier. In truth, she still felt partially responsible for Migue’s current condition, and if staying strong and handling a skeletal grandson was some way she could make up for it, then she’d be damned if she didn’t help him any way she could. Besides, it wasn’t just guilt that motivated her. She also loved her grandson dearly, and just wanted him to be as happy, even if she’d made missteps in that goal. She left the room with the tray, as Miguel set about rooting through his drawer, shutting the door behind her.

Miguel weighed his options before deciding on a pair of lightweight, but long-sleeved set of pajamas with a print of yellow crescent moons on a blue background. It was cool enough on the early November evenings that he wouldn’t overheat in it, but it would still do well to hide most of himself. He didn’t want to have to have his family deal with seeing more bones than they were ready for. He took his shirt off, doing his absolute best to not look at himself (still remembering what he was thinking about when he was eating dinner), and quickly slid into his pajama top.

As he slipped out of his jeans, he realized it was the first time he’d actually seen his leg bones. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with that right now, and quickly got his pajama pants on. It was then he realized he’d have to relinquish his socks as well. He sighed. Normally he’d be okay with running around the house barefoot, but tonight was not that night.

He went back to his drawers and rooted around again until he found what he’d been looking for, a pair of soft, fluffy slipper-socks. Normally he’d reserve these only for the chilliest of nights, but they were needed tonight. Much like his pants, he slipped off the old socks as quickly as he could, before doing his best to get into the others without focusing too much of the bones of his feet. Although, weirdly enough, they didn’t really seem to bug him as much. Maybe it was because they looked similar to the bones of his hands, which he was becoming quite used to seeing at this point. He realized he probably had some gloves somewhere, but thought that if his family, and himself, was going to get used to this, he may as well at least leave something exposed. At any rate, he’d successfully changed into his pajamas. He went over to open his door, so they wouldn’t have to knock for him later, and started gathering up the stray articles of clothing he had lying around, throwing them into the basket against the wall that they should have been in the first place. “Oh, look at you, cleaning your room!” His mother had finally arrived. “Hey, I do clean it! Kinda...” Miguel tried to defend himself. Outside of the scattered clothes, and a few toys, his room really wasn’t too terrible, but not exactly the vision of tidiness either. His mother just grinned and shook her head.

“Finish putting your dirty clothes in the basket, and I’ll get your bedding. If we’re washing the blanket, we may as well do all of it. It’ll be nice sleeping in a fresh bed.” She went over to start pulling the rest of Miguel’s sheets off his bed, and he did what he was told and put his clothes in the basket. Despite the seemingly normal interaction between mother and her 12-year-old, there was still a slight sense of tension in the air, as they both silently, awkwardly went about their chores. Miguel finished placing the clothes in the basket, and his mother placed the bedding on top before picking it up. She had turned around to leave the room when... “Mamá?” Miguel finally asked, not being able to stand the silence any longer. “Hmm?” Luisa turned around, looking unfazed, basket in arm. “Is everything...are you sure you’re...okay? I mean, I’m still kinda freaking you out a little, aren’t I?”, he said, a resigned tinge of sadness in his voice. Luisa set the basket down before walking back over to her son. She crouched down, and cupped his face in her hand. “Mijo, I’ll be alright. I’m more worried about you right now. Are you doing okay?” Miguel nodded.

“More or less. Everything’s still just really weird, and I’m a bit scared about what might happen later, but...for now, I’m alright.”

He wondered if he should voice his concerned about sunrise with his mother or not. He’d hate to worry her any more than he already had, but on the other hand, he’d hate it if he disappeared on them with no explanation and never came back. His mother straightened up and gave him a reassuring pat on his head. “We’ll work this out...somehow. Your father and I, and the rest of the family have been talking, trying to come up with something. Don’t worry about school in the meantime. We’ll just say you’re out sick.” She picked up the basket once again, and started to head back out before turning around once again. “The rest of the family has been calming down now too, so if you’re feeling up to it, you can join everyone in the family room for some television time. Once I finish your laundry, it’ll be getting close to your bedtime.” “Sí, mamá.” Miguel was fine with that, he was already rather tired. He watched his mother leave with the basket.

As he stepped out of his room, he realized he had one extra stop to make. One he hadn’t been sure if he was going to, but did nonetheless. He had to use the bathroom. Somehow he hadn’t the entire time in the Land of the Dead, but...he wasn’t there anymore. Now he got tired, he got hungry, and... He gave a resigned sigh before making his way there. It was the most awkward bathroom trip he had ever had in his entire life. At least now he had the assurance that everything was still there and working. He took a moment for his face to stop blushing before he made his way to the family room. He found everyone gathered around the TV. They were watching some movie, from the looks of it. As usual, the TV was muted, but the captions were on, since the family ban on music even extended to background music on TV shows. Miguel could only guess the transition for the rest of the family back into the world of music was going to be a bit slower. He found his father, along with Tío Berto, sitting on the couch, an empty space to his father’s right, on the end. Probably where his mother had been sitting with him earlier, he guessed. “Um...papá?” He spoke up quietly. “Ah, Migue?!” Enrique twisted around, as did the rest of the family when they’d heard Miguel’s voice. It made Miguel feel a tad nervous.

“We weren't expecting to see you out. Are you...feeling a bit better now?” Miguel nodded. “Yeah, sorry I worried you and mamá. She said I could come watch TV if I felt like. Can I, umm, sit with you?” he asked, nervously fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. “Of course, mijo.” Enrique said, and he patted on the cushion next to him.

Miguel made his way over, and got up onto the couch, curling up next to his father. He made a point to tuck his hands in as best he could to hide them from view. He noted his family was giving him a few curious glances here and there, but for the most part, they seemed to try and focus on the movie. It seemed like some period drama of some sort, nothing very interesting to him. Apparently Rosa thought so too, since she was actually reading a book. Either way, he only really wanted to be there for the company. Now that things had calmed down, it felt like just another normal evening in the Rivera household, despite the anything but normal day. Miguel’s father had wrapped his arm around him, and Miguel felt his eyelids get heavy. In the comfort of his father’s presence, he let the exhaustion of the day overtake him, and he drifted off to sleep.

He awoke slightly when he felt something on his forehead. His parents were taking turns giving him a goodnight kiss, as they tucked him in, his bedsheets now warm and clean. His father must have carried him to bed after he fell asleep on the couch with him. Groggy, he looked up to his parents. “Ah, sorry to wake you, mijo...you can go back to sleep,” his father smiled down to him. “We’ll see you in the morning,” his mother added. Oh, right. Morning. “Papá, mamá…” Miguel sleepily called. He knew that whatever happened come sunrise, there was at least one thing he wanted to make sure he told them. “Goodnight, I love you.”

“We love you too. Goodnight,” his parents both replied, and his father gave him a light ruffle of his hair before they gave him one last round of kisses, turned off his light, and let him drift back off to sleep. Miguel was satisfied with that. No matter what happened from here on out, he could be sure that in both worlds, Living and Dead, his family would be there for him.

Author’s Notes: If you made it this far, thanks for reading! This is my first fanfic, so I’m still getting my bearings, but I think I’m doing pretty well all things considered. I’ve managed three chapters so far on AO3 at least, with hopefully many more to come. I’ve always wanted to toy more with the whole “Miguel being a skeleton, but not really” curse thing, and adding the living Riveras into the mix was SO much fun. I don’t have the heart to kill him off to make him a skeleton proper, so this will have to do (but if you want a fic with dead, skeleton Miguel, look up “Ojos Que no Ven”, it is amazing. I’m reading it, and it’s stomping on my heart, but I love every second). Anyways, this concluded the first part of the storyline, “Sundown”, so the next chapter will be under a new title. Think of the chapters more like parts of “episodes”, as this will be a rather episodic fic. I’ll be slowly explaining the new rules his curse works under as we go (the readers will find out as Miguel does). Feel free to leave me any messages, questions, asks...whatever! I love hearing feedback, especially things you like, so I know what people might like to see more of. I’m also always up for constructive criticism (just don’t be mean).

[artemisfowlthemusical]

The Boy I knew

Ok, so this is a long song that covers a lot of information about the Fowl siege but I think it's pretty ok and I thought you might like to see it, but whatever. I hope you like it.

  Artemis Fowl the Musical: The Boy I Knew

  (So basically, this song highlights our favorite band of antiheroes preparing for the Fowl Manor Siege, Artemis and Butler having just returned from kidnapping Holly. Butler and Juliet are worried about their best friend and Artemis is currently a full on villain. However, he's still troubled about his mother and what she would think about his actions if she was still in her right mind.)

  *The stage is divided into full stage right, full center stage, and full stage left. Butler and Artemis enter downstage center as the center lights come up. Right and left remain dark. The center stage is the front hall of Fowl Manor. Lined with suits of armor and other sumptuous decorations, it is an imposing sight.*

  Artemis: I should go check up on mother. Tell Juliet to watch the prisoner.

  Butler: Yes Artemis.

  *Artemis leaves the lighted part of the stage heading stage right. Juliet enters upstage center-left.*

  Juliet: You're back!

  Butler: So we are.

  Juliet: Where's Artemis?

  Butler: Checking on Angeline. We got what we were looking for. I dumped her in the new cell.

  Juliet: Her? It's a girl?

  Butler: Yes...Artemis said you were to watch her while he watches his mother.

  Juliet: Angeline's napping at the moment. Should I still give her her pills?

  Butler: Yes, she's bound to wake up. But after...

  Juliet: I know. After I check the prisoner.

  *Juliet leaves the lighted part of the stage, heading stage left. The music comes up in a light, sad tune. The lights onstage change from natural lighting to an underwater, royal blue undercut with brighter whites.*

  Butler: Of course I know it's not my place

But I see something different in his face

I'm so afraid he's gone forever now

I just can't think what happened and how

He's not the boy I knew

All his plans have taken over

He's not the boy I knew

Back when there was more to life than being clever

He's not the boy I knew

It seems like only I remember

He used to be the bright light of my life

His gentleness was lost somewhere in strife

When did money and crime become the only thing he knew

I fear he'll never be the boy I knew

  *There is a brief instrumental period as the lights go down center stage and come up on stage left. We see a plain grey room with nothing but a cot within. The music ends shortly after the room is revealed. Juliet kneels by the edge of the bed, and we see Holly, unconscious, lying helpless on top of the sheets. Holly begins to stir and Juliet perks up immediately.*

  Holly: Mummlp (That's directly from the text by the way.)

  Juliet: Hello? You awake, then? I thought the dart might have killed you. Aliens' insides are different from ours. I saw that on television.

  *Juliet smirks at Holly's obvious confusion and discomfort before continuing.*

  Juliet: You look fit. Like Muchacho Maria, she's a Mexican midget wrestler.

  *Holly groans and opens her eyes, trying to push herself into a sitting position. She sees Juliet and her sunglasses and falls back to the bed with a noise halfway between a moan and a whimper.*

  Juliet(Taping the edge of her glasses.): Don't be scared, just sunglasses.

  *Holly opens her eyes again and pushes herself up, somewhere between sitting and lying down.*

  Holly: Where...where am I?

  Juliet(Laughing with excitement): You can speak English! What sort of accent is that? Sounds like a little bit of everything.

  Holly: Where are my things?

  Juliet(Wagging her finger.): Artemis had to take your little gun away, and all those other toys. Couldn't have you hurting yourself.

  Holly: Artemis?

  Juliet: Artemis Fowl. This was his idea. Everything is always his idea.

  *The music comes back up. Juliet stands, now looking rather distant. The light changes to the same watery blue. Holly doesn't react.*

  Juliet: Everything he says and does now

It's all part of a plan

I can't face him anymore now

He just doesn't understand

He's not the boy I knew

I see it in his eyes

He's not the boy I knew

I begin to realize

He's not the boy I knew

Everything's been said and done

I feel like I'm the only one

Who truly misses the little boy I used to love

Now I fear he'll never be the boy I knew

  *Holly begins to speak and the lights go back to normal. Juliet snaps back around to face Holly. The music gets heavier. Now more foreboding than sad.*

  Holly: They'll come for me, you know. You don't know what you've done.

  Juliet: You're absolutely right. I have no clue what's going on. So there's no future in trying to psych me out.

  Holly(Looks briefly annoyed, but then puts on a fake pout.): You are pretty human.

  Juliet: Why, thank you...

  Holly: Holly.

  Juliet: Why, thank you Holly. I was in the local paper once. I won a competition. Miss Sugar Beet Fair Nineteen Ninety-Nine.

  Holly: I knew it. Natural beauty. I'll bet your eyes are spectacular.

  Juliet: So everyone tells me. Lashes like clock springs.

  Holly: If only I could see them.

  Juliet: Why ever not?

  *Juliet's fingers curl around the glasses' stem. Then she hesitates.*

  Juliet: Maybe I shouldn't.

  Holly: Why not? Just for a second.

  Juliet: I don't know. Artemis told me never to take these off.

  Holly: He'd never know.

  Juliet: Oh, he'd find out. Artemis finds out about everything. Sometimes I think he can see inside my head, too.

  Holly: Come on. One second. What harm could it do?

  Juliet: None, I suppose. Unless of course you're hoping to nail me with the mesmer. Just how stupid do you think I am?

  Holly: I have another idea. Why don't I get up, knock you out, and take those stupid glasses off?

  Juliet(Laughing): Good one, fairy girl.

  Holly: I'm deadly serious, human.

  Juliet(Wipes away an imaginary tear.): Well, if you're serious, two reasons. One, Artemis said that while you're in a human dwelling, you have to do what we want. And I want you to stay on that cot. And two, two, because I went through the same training as Butler, and I've been dying for somebody to practice my pile driver on.

  *Juliet backs up to the door.*

  Juliet: I'll be back, fairy girl. Don't try anything.

  *She whirls back onto center stage and slams the door behind her. She falls to the ground with her back to the door. The lights go down stage left and come back up blue on center stage. The music gets sad again.*

  Juliet: Though I know nothing can replace

The joy that comes seeing a father's face

I thought I had a little more time

With you

  Butler(Going to Juliet's side and lifting her up.): And I know it will never be my place

But I miss the light in your face

I thought I knew the way

Things would always be

  Juliet and Butler: He's not the boy I knew

I love you

But you're not the boy I knew

  *There's another instrumental period and Juliet and Butler stare at each other, overcome by emotion. Then, the stage goes dark. The lights come up stage right and we see a scene similar to Juliet and Holly's. This room looks a lot more comfortable, however, and is decorated in a warm manner. Artemis sits in a rocking chair by his mother's bed. She is asleep, not reacting to the boy's presence at all.*

  Artemis: I know you're in pain, Mother. But it's alright; I'm going to fix it. Father always said that determination could get you anywhere. He was right, fairies are real, and they're going to get us what we need. I promise you, they're going to get us exactly what we need, one way or another.

  *The lights stage right change from natural to blue, the same way as before. The music comes back. There is a sad instrumental as Artemis brushes a lock of hair from his mother's face and kisses her forehead, but then he stands, and the music becomes more dangerous and foreboding like we heard in Holly's cell. Cue Artemis solo.*

  Artemis: I have been waiting my whole life through

For a chance to prove my worth

Though he isn't here to see it

I know my father would bless this work

People will say that I'm insane

They'll laugh when they should be afraid

Look at what I've become

And I've never felt better

  *Artemis throws the door open and the lights come up on center stage, still blue. The music picks up as Artemis comes on.*

  Juliet: Artemis! You'll wake her.

  Artemis: What do I care?

  Artemis(Gesturing Emphatically, Now singing): For years I've wasted my potential

Stayed locked up inside this hell hole

Our aura of perfection could never last long

So what if my life's come crumbling down

Have faith that I can turn it all around

I'll never fail

My father told me

Because I am a Fowl

And maybe these are fantasies

To those who are far lower than me

But I was born to succeed

And you know I will

  *The lights come up all around the stage, all in the same surreal blue. We can see Holly, pacing her cell, beating on the walls, and kicking the bed frame, looking for a way out. We can see Angeline, tossing fitfully in her sleep. But, most importantly, we can see the Butlers, staring at Artemis, angry, disbelieving, and afraid.*

  Juliet: I don't like this Artemis. That's a person in there.

  Artemis: And what of my father? He's a person. Are we just going to let him go? This is necessary. This is all necessary to the plan.

  Butler: But, does it have to be this way?

  Artemis(Singing again): I have to be ruthless to be heard

The whole world will hear my words

One step at a time

Everything will soon be mine

  Juliet and Butler: You're not the boy I knew

  Artemis: I cannot give up

  Juliet and Butler: You're not the boy I knew

  Artemis: I will not back down

  Juliet and Butler: You're not the boy I knew

  Artemis: I have to take a stand

  Juliet and Butler: You're not the boy I knew

  Artemis: I know I will succeed

Because it's what I'm made to do

Everything I'll ever be

Is right in front of you

I've become my very best

And I can see it now

I'll follow in his footsteps

And the world will soon bow down

  Juliet and Butler: You're not the boy I knew

I love you

But, you're not the boy I knew

  Artemis(Now also singing with the sadder tune): Never fear

The worst is now behind us

Put your trust in me

We'll use the light to guide us

Nothing's ever once knocked me down

  (Music gets heavy again.)

  I won't start today

If you're in my way

You're bound to pay

  Juliet and Butler: You're not the boy I knew

  Artemis: You just can't understand

  Juliet and Butler: You're not the boy I knew

  Artemis: My time is now at hand

And if you find

You can't believe

In me

In what is meant to be

Then stand aside

My time is now

  (Lighter music)

  But no harm could ever come to you

Listen and you'll know

I'm the one who runs this show

I will save the world we knew

Fairies I'm warning you

Nothing will stand in our way

They're in for a world to pay

Just a few more steps

I promise

  You want to rule the world

Then let's

I have to save him

You have to understand

Nothing's really changed

I'm still the boy you knew

  Artemis: I need to monitor the situation room. We should be expecting resistance soon. I have to watch the prisoner. Juliet, please put together Mother's dinner and bring her her pills.

  Juliet: Yes Artemis.

  Artemis: Very good. I'll be off, then.

  *Artemis exits down center stage. The lights go down on stage right and left as Holly sits back on the bed appearing to put her head in her hands and Juliet and Butler turn to each other and sigh.*

  Juliet and Butler: He's not the boy I knew

I love you

But, you're not the boy I knew

He's not the boy I knew

And I fear he'll never be the boy I knew

  Butler: I should switch out my guns before going to guard the prisoner. Can you hold things down here?

  Juliet: I'll only be in Angeline's room for a moment. What harm could the girl do?

  *We hear banging stage left and vaguely see Holly banging the cot into the floor. Both Juliet and Butler cringe.*

  Butler: Don't say things like that. I'm pretty sure we're the bad-guys of this piece.

  Juliet: Noted.

  *Butler exits upstage center. Juliet walks over towards stage right and knocks on Angeline's door. She leans towards it, banging harder and jiggling the handle.*

  Juliet: Mrs Fowl? Angeline? Please open the door!

  *Juliet leans into the door appearing to listen to someone on the other side. She gasps in shock.*

  Juliet: No! You don't mean...are you sure? May I come in, then? Ok, ok. Just sit tight. Don't go anywhere. (She turns around and runs upstage.) Artemis! Artemis!

  *Artemis enters upstage center, glaring at Juliet. They walk to center center together. Juliet makes a motion, as if to grab his hand, but she pulls away at the last second.*

  Juliet: Artemis, your mother, she...

  Artemis(Turning to look straight at Juliet.): Yes?

  Juliet: Well, she says, Artemis...Artemis, that your....

  Artemis: Yes, Juliet. For heaven's sake, what is it?

  *Juliet places both hands over her mouth, composing herself. After several seconds she parts spangled nails, speaking through her fingers.*

  Juliet: It's your father, sir. Artemis Senior. Madam Fowl says he's come back!

  *All the stage lights go off. We hear Artemis's voice, but we can't clearly see what's happening.*

  Artemis: Father? Back? Is it possible? Of course, I've always believed him to be alive. But lately, since I've hatched this fairy scheme, it's almost as if my father is gone somewhere in the back of my mind. I'd given up. If only for a moment. Given up on my own father.

  Artemis: Did you see him, Juliet? With your own eyes?

  Juliet: No, Artemis, sir. I just heard voices. In the bedroom. But she won't let me through the door. Not for anything.

  Artemis: Let me see. We returned barely an hour ago. Father could have slipped past Juliet. He would have checked on his study first. I would have just missed him coming from Mother's room. It was possible. Just possible. It's Three A.M. Now. Time is ticking on. The entire plan depends upon the fairies making their next move before sunlight. There it is again. Me, pushing family to the side. What am I becoming? Father is the priority here, not some moneymaking scheme.

  Artemis: Very well, I had better go see her immediately.

  *Curtains close, scene ends.*

[mysticanswers]

Hi! Please could I request headcanons of the RFA+V+Saeran first date with MC?

Oh, boy! First dates! I hope I do this justice for you,anon~! (: Sorry it takes me so long to finish these requests. I am a collegestudent who is trying to prepare for the sweet release of death finals.Anywho, I tried to make these worth the wait but I still feel like a potate.

Ø ~~~YOOSUNG~~~

After he finished up the semester, he vowed totake you on a dream date.

He suggested just about everything, and you hadto calm him down.

“We can see a movie, and go to dinner, and gobowling, and I’ll see if Jumin can lend us a limousine! Do you think he would?Oh! We can—“

“Yoosung… Sweetie, just breathe for a minute. Doeither of us have the money for this?”

He was silent for a moment.

“Er… Then how about a picnic?”

There we go, Yoosung. Thinking inside thewallet.

The two of you met at the park. He found a lush,green field for you two and laid down a large blanket.

He sat down a huge basket, and you werewondering what on earth he could have brought that would need that much space.

As if reading your thoughts, he began babblingat high-speed.

“I made sandwiches, gimbap—meat and withoutmeat, I didn’t think to ask if you were vegan, sorry—mandoo, gaeran mari, somemusubi.. Hmmm, oh, and rice cakes!! I also made—“

He continued on for a moment, listing off themenu as he pulled it straight from the basket.

You place a finger to his lips to silence him,and you could have sworn he almost jumped out of his skin.

“Yoosung!” you blurt. “Let’s just eat!”

His cheeks were an adorable shade of red, and his shoulders trembled.

He reminded you of a nervous little Chihuahua,and it honestly made you giggle a bit.

The two of you sat down to eat, and you noticedhe looked really drained.

“Did you get enough sleep? Did you play LOLOLall night again?”

He gave a sheepish smile and gestured to thefood laid out all around on the blanket.

“Not this time… I was up all night making thisfor us. I wanted it to be perfect, so I had to restart a few times… It isn’ttoo bland is it? Did I make it pretty enough?”

“Yoosung,” you breathe, quite shocked at theamount of effort he put into some picnic snacks. You shake your head indisbelief. How could any guy be so incredibly sweet?

“It is perfect. This entire day is perfect.Thank you so much.”

Yoosung looks entirely flattered, trying hisbest not to smile from ear to ear, looking down at his gimbap and toying with alace on his shoes.

This man is completely flawless in your eyes,and you are so proud of him. You decide you want to hang onto him for as long as humanlypossible.

Ø ~~~ZEN~~~

He asked you out through a phone call.

You had to mute the phone to keep from squealingright in his ear.

The two of you end up parking in front of alarge building. He didn’t tell you what the place was.

Zen is a complete gentleman, opening doors foryou and holding your hand every chance he gets, commenting on how beautiful youlook.

Which he better have, because you spent ages primping for this guy.

He leads you inside, and immediately you knowwhat the place is.

There are cymbals stacked up in the corner of themain hall, piano benches and music stands propped against the walls.

He smiles at you knowingly, then leads you intoa small room with just a piano and a couple of chairs.

“Pull a chair up and sit beside me… I want toplay something for you.”

You follow his instructions and sit in thechair beside his, just a bit behind him since he was sitting in front of thepiano—you didn’t want to get in the way.

His lips quirk up once more, a dazzling smilethat shows the pearly whites of his teeth.

Your heart thumps against your chest as hisbright crimson eyes gaze softly into yours.

“Don’t think I’m a creep just yet, but… Icouldn’t get you out of my mind. So…”

He turns around and taps out a few notes andchords, making sure of the key for what he was about to play.

“Ahem, I… I wrote this for you.”

Your eyes widened. He wrote you a song?! And heactually sounds nervous about it?!

Without further explanation, he began playingbefore he could chicken out completely.

It’s magnificent… The sweet melody fills theroom, a major key that could lift even the most broken of spirits.

Zen was slightly slouched, fingers gliding overthe keys as if it was second nature, swaying along gently to the music.

You press a hand over your mouth, smiling like agiddy little girl as you watch him play with such deep emotion. It was likeseeing a whole new Zen.

He looks entirely vulnerable before you, all ofhis emotions spilling out with every chord he creates.

Suddenly, a smooth, deep voice resoundsthroughout the room. He’s singing.

He adorns his suave baritone voice with vibrato, singing each note with utter grace and perfection…  

God, he sounds just like an angel…

You didn’t notice the tears falling from youreyes until the song was complete.

He turns around and looks at you, tears brimmingin his own eyes.

He smiles again, knowing exactly what you’refeeling.

He’s feeling it too.

You leap forward and wrap your arms around hisneck.

He laughs and embraces you as well.

“I love you, Zen…”

“Mm, not as much as I love you…”

♥

Ø ~~~JAEHEE~~~

Coffee shop?

WRONG.

The two of you are going to the sPA BECAUSE YOUBOTH DESERVE A BREAK.

After hearing how much Jumin was overworkingJaehee, the whole thing was your idea. Your bae was so!! stressed!!

You needed to relax anyway.

You planned it as a “date,” but the two of youhadn’t disclosed any romantic feelings for each other.

You wanted her to know how you felt, but at thesame it terrified you.

What if she doesn’t like you back? You don’tdeal very well with rejection..

The two of you got manicures and pedicurestogether.

It surprised you when you heard her giggle andapologize.

Apparently, her legs are very ticklish.

And it’sso cute.

Her laugh is so bubbly, and the way she curlsher legs up to avoid being tickled just warms your heart.

You love seeing her happy.

The only thing that started to bother you waswhen the two of you went for massages.

Both of you had to undress at least partiallyand be rubbed down by another person in order to receive a massage.

Jaehee was going to be pawed at by someone elsewith only a thin sheet in between the two of them.

[MC rage mode activated]

You could hardly enjoy the massage because ofit, especially when Jaehee let out little moans when the masseuse worked outthe stress from her shoulders.

That shouldbe me making her feel like that, you thought.

Finally the two of you got some alone time in amud bath.

She was reluctant to get in at first.

“Jaehee… They don’t just pick up some dirt andthrow it in here with water. This is good for your skin!”

“Good… mud?”

This sweetheart had never been to a spa before.You were so glad to treat her.

She got in and immediately the warmth of the mudsoothed her tension.

She is now leaning back against the edge of thebath. She’s had her eyes closed for several minutes; you could only assume she fell asleep.

“… You’re so cute when you’re sleeping…”

“Hm?”

“Oh! Nothing!”

MC, you big idiot. It’s a good thing she didn’thear that!

“Ah, I’m so relaxed. I haven’t felt like this inyear,” she hums. “Thank you so much, MC. I could just kiss you right now.”

“Why don’t you?”

MC, REALLY? You just love suffering, don’t you?Just love digging holes for yourself—

Jaehee laughs. She looks over at you with a widesmile and sees your blush.

It is so endearing to her. You’re just soadorable and shy. Why can’t you just tell her what you’re feeling?

“It’s the least I could do for someone like you,”she says, and your eyes widen to comic proportions.

She softly laughs again and leans over, pressinga soft kiss to your cheek.

[MC liquesce mode activated]

(∗∕∕⊙∕◡∕⊙∕∕)

Ø ~~~JUMIN~~~

Fancy dinner date with the executive director ofC&R~

It was surreal. Jumin ordered and sent you anice, black dress with matching heels and light jewelry. He even arranged alimousine to drive you two there.

You really felt like it was too much, but Jumininsisted that you just relax and indulge for tonight. This was your first dateand he wanted to make it special for the both of you in any way possible.

It was like you were in a fairy-tale

You would have believed that Jumin was princecharming if he hadn’t been looking so grumpy all night.

Finally, after the two of you were halfwaythrough your dinner, the wine you were drinking gave you enough confidence toask him why he looked so pissy.

“Is it me? Do you not like me…?”

“MC, that’s ridiculous. You’re the mostimportant woman in the world to me…”

“It’s just…”

He closes his eyes briefly and sighs, placinghis silverware down. He very suddenly pins you with a hard gaze, taking youaback.

“I misjudged the length… Your dress is tooshort. These dogs keep staring.”

Sure enough, there were men in this niceestablishment who were low-class enough to check out a lady. And another man’slady at that!

You pull your dress down over your knees, tryingto keep full coverage of your thighs while you sat at the table.

You are very uncomfortable.

The corner of Jumin’s lips twitch upwardslightly, and he flattens the back of his hand on the table in front of you.

“Give me your hand. They’ll stop looking.”

You are allfor that.

You place your palm gently in his, and a blushcreeps over your face.

He squeezes your hand softly, caressing it as ifit was a sacred treasure. He runs his thumb over your knuckles, back and forthwhile his silvery eyes watch your nerves settle down.

This feels really nice.

“They’re not looking anymore,” you sigh,relieved.

Jumin’s smile widens, and you feel your fleshrise as he brings your hand up and presses your fingers against his lips.

So warmand soft…

Your blush returns as your mind drifts,fantasizing about that tantalizing warmth against your own lips.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice deep and foreboding. “I’m the only one who should see you like that.”

Ø ~~~SEVEN~~~

Your phone lit up with brightly in the middle ofa message, a festive image of a roller coaster behind some obnoxious-coloredtext…. Ugh, spam???

“YOU HAVEBEEN CHOSEN! CLICK BELOW TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE!!!”

You try to exit the pop-up, but unfortunately,it wouldn’t leave your screen.

You sigh and humor the ad, pressing the button.

“YOU’VEWON…”

… Is that a drumroll..?

“ONE OFMANY FREE DATES WITH 707!!!”

Oh my god, Seven, you freaking dork.

You couldn’t help but smile and laugh, coveringyour mouth to hide a goofy grin so wide that it made your cheeks hurt.

Seven swings by the apartment and picks you upthe next day, then floors it to your destination.

A themepark?? So that’s what the roller coaster was about.

You felt nauseous. He better not drag you on anyroller co—

aaaaaaaaaaaand first stop, roller coaster.

“NOPE, NO. NO, SEVEN ZERO SEVEN, YOU BETTER STOP—AAGH.”

He’s dragging you along, insisting it will befun! He says if you come along, he has a top secret surprise for you~

You muster up the courage, but you’re stillshivering like crazy.

He holds your hand, a gesture that turns you redin the face. His palm is so warm against your own, and his fingers laced aroundyours perfectly. He is such a goodhand-holder what the hell

He was distracting you with his unassuming charmuntil you realized you were seated and strapped down in the coaster.

You start cursing under your breath, and Sevengives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Baaaabe, you’ll be fine! It’ll be worth it!”

The ride begins. You scream, he laughs, all thewhile gripping each other’s hand tightly.

You come out trembling, but he seems to havegotten a huge rush. He laughs and swings your hand to and fro as you walk.

“You made it! See, it wasn’t so bad! Ready foryour surprise, MC?”

You glare up at him, and you see him grinning.What the hell is he up to?

He brings you to the side of the nearestbuilding, away from the crowd, then gingerly tilts your chin up.

You blush, unable to be angry anymore as yougaze into his hypnotic golden eyes. He’sgoing to kiss me, oh my god, he’s going to kiss me!!

He comes closer, his nose bumping against yours,and your breath hitches. You can feel your lips tingling with anticipation.

Seven builds up the moment, letting the heat ofhis breath ghost over your lips for what seemed like an eternity.

You were on fire, wanting to just kiss himsenseless, but he held you firmly in place.

Finally, he moved closer and—

He gave a swift peck to your nose and backedaway.

REALLY.

You looked entirely offended, making him burstout laughing.

“Pffftt ha ha ha!! Tell you what,” he said, collectinghimself. “If you go on another one, I’ll give you the real surprise.”

You were about to refuse, but then he slid thepad of his thumb over your bottom lip. You groaned quietly.

“Maybe just one more…”

Ø ~~~V~~~

Nature hikes!

He still had a bit of sight left in oneeye—enough to get him around.

Plus, you were always there to guide him if heneeded it.

Turns out, he knew the trail fairly well, soonly a small amount of sight was needed to be able to maneuver around the treesand roots with ease.

This boy would not let your hand go, and it wasthe sweetest thing. He wanted you to stay close to him, as if he was afraid you were the one who would get lost.

The trees began to thin, and soon you two wereatop a large hill overlooking the city.

It was so beautiful, you felt like you were ontop of the world.

Well, with V by your side, you may as well be.

“MC, stand over here.”

You walked in front of the scenic view of thecity and stopped, looking at V expectantly.

“Now, smile!”

He had taken his camera out and was positioningit over his left eye.

You smile, and he takes the picture.

He doesn’t bother to see at how it turned out;with you in it, it will undoubtedly be perfect.

“Beautiful,” he says, and joins you where you’restanding.

He holds his camera up and snaps a photograph ofthe both of you.

“This one is for you.” He grabs the photo andhands it to you. A third of his face was cut from the picture, but it was stillsomething to remember this by.

Your first date with the man you’ll spendforever with. You clutched the picture to your chest, making a mental note toget a frame for it.

Suddenly, V’s shoulders started shaking, and hisbreathing became erratic.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, looking athim with concern.

“V, are you all right?”

As he looks over at you, you saw a smile on hisface. He was laughing, with a single tear spilling down his cheek.

You didn’t know how to react, so you wrapped himup in an embrace that he returned immediately.

“We haven’t known each other for very long, butI can tell…” His voice was quivering in your ear.

“I can tell that I don’t ever want to forgetyour face. I don’t ever want to forget the way you smile when you see me. Orthe way you laugh when I make some pathetic joke… I don’t ever want to forgetthe way your eyes light up like the stars of a million galaxies when I speak. I don’t wantto forget… Please tell me I won’t forget.”

“V…”

The two of you spent the entire day and nighttogether. He never took his eyes off of you. No matter where you went or whatyou did, as long as you were in sight, his eyes belonged to you. And for aslong as his sight lasts, he will pledge himself to committing every one of yourdetails to memory. He will never forget your face.

Ø ~~~SAERAN~~~

It’s almost midnight when you hear little taps on your window.

Curious, you peer outside and are immediatelymet with two dazzling aquamarine eyes.

You nearly have a heart attack.

This beautiful white-haired man is smilingsoftly, gesturing for you to open your window.

Shouldyou? He looks dangerous, but… Something inside you wants to know who he is andwhat he wants. Could this be the hacker that led you to this place?

You crack open the window, just enough to hearhim speak. Your grip is tight, so that you can close and lock it immediately ifthe need arises.

“MC, I see you’re adjusting well. Why don’t youcome outside?”

“Y-you’re Unknown?”

“Ah, clever little thing, aren’t you? Come onout. I won’t hurt you~”

Will he? Comeon, MC… Don’t be stupid. You can’t possibly do what he says. He’s the hacker!You have to call Seven!…

Before you could even process what washappening, he pushes the window open more and grabs your hand, jerking youforward so abruptly that you almost knock your head on the window.

“But… If you rat me out, I might hurt you alittle~!” He giggles, and your blood runs cold.

“I’ll come out, I’ll do it! Just… let me go,please.”

He releases your arm and pries the window openenough for you to get out.

“And leave your phone inside…”

You’re both outside now, and he takes your handgently in his as he guides you along.

You find it odd how gentle he turned out to be after getting you outside—maybe he won’thurt you after all. But where is he taking you?

“I imagine you have a lot of questions. I’ve got a little time to kill, so I’ll clear some things up.”

The night went by with you and this stranger handin hand, strolling through the town in the dead of night.

He seemed to be glowing, ethereal under themoonlight. His mystery fueled your curiosity, and so the two of you quietlyspoke as you made your way along.

Soon, you return to the apartment building. Younotice how reluctant you are to leave this mystery man. You had enjoyed thecompany, and moreover you had grown accustomed to his touch.

Which all but makes you groan disappointedly ashe lets your hand go.

He takes notices and chuckles, forcing a chilldown your spine.

“You like me, don’t you? You don’t want me toleave. Mm… Would you like me to join you in your bedroom for the night?” Hisvoice is low and sultry, whispering a proposition into your ear that makes yourface heat up like crazy.

Yes. Yes.God, yes.

You open your mouth, but are far too flustered to speak. Absolutely no soundcomes out. He knows what this means…

The two of you are now inside, lips crashingonto the others’ in the heat of the moment.

His mouth is like a bittersweet poison, drippingwith sugary venom, driving your senses wild.

Everywhere he touches sets your body on fire.Why, why are you doing this? This isn’t you.

But the sense of danger and mystery just sucksyou in entirely. This man makes you weak and entirely submissive to his will.

He pushes you onto your bed, then crawls on topof you and pins your wrists firmly to the mattress.

You are helpless and feeble, docile andobedient.

You’re loving this.

You can’t get enough of his taste, tonguedancing around yours in a scorching sensation that only the two of you canfeel.

His teeth bite at your flesh, leaving trails ofbright red love marks over your neck and throat.

You crave more, so much more, lifting your bodyto rub against his, then he stops.

The two of you panting is the only sound heardthroughout the silence.

You want to say his name, but you realize thatyou don’t even know it yet.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he murmurs, pickinghimself up from the bed.

You sit up, reaching out to him, your face ablushing mess.

“W-wait! Where are you going?”

He lifts the window, and just as he is about todisappear, he flashes you a wicked grin.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll come get you soon..~”

[mrmichaelchadler]

Mandy

More than most movies, it’s hard to know where to begin with an appreciation or critique of Panos Cosmatos’ “Mandy.” It’s a really difficult film to capture tonally and even narratively in a review, largely because it is such a stylish, visceral experience that it demands you give yourself over to it actively instead of passively analyzing it. On the one hand, it’s a thriller, of sorts, a vengeance piece about a man killing those who destroyed his life. But, man, does that not really capture the experience of this movie. Some have compared it to an ‘80s heavy metal album cover sprung to life, but that’s only part of “Mandy,” and doesn’t convey the emotional depth that saturates every frame. And then there’s the fact that “Mandy” is kind of two movies in one, a slow-burn journey into hell in the first hour and a blood-soaked climb out of it in the second. Did I mention the chainsaw fight yet?

Nicolas Cage stars in “Mandy” as Red Miller, a lumberjack who lives a quiet life in the woods with his girlfriend Mandy, played by Andrea Riseborough. One day, Mandy catches the eye of a cult leader named Sand Jeremiah (Linus Roache), who proceeds to conjure motorcycle-riding demons to steal the girl and make her one of their own. In the process, Red is tortured and nearly killed. The first half of “Mandy” is filled with long, color-saturated takes of impending doom. Even casual behavior like quiet scenes between Mandy and Red have a foreboding nature, and then the film peaks in the middle with a waking nightmare as Red sees something no one should ever see happen to the love of his life. Deeply traumatized, Red is destroyed, and there’s a sequence in which Cage drinks an entire bottle of booze (well he ingests the stuff that isn’t poured on his wounds) while in his underwear, howling like an injured animal. It’s going to be GIF-ed and mocked, but it’s actually a great bit of acting, conveying a man not just mourning or in grief but literally destroyed.

Like a character in a Queensrÿche concept album, Red emerges from this destruction with his plans for vengeance. With a title card that divides the film in half, “Mandy” then becomes the movie that most people will remember in that it’s about Red working his way through both the demons that Jeremiah conjured and, inevitably, the gang itself. The heavy metal comparison is apt not just because the genre often included figures like the nightmarish creations that Jeremiah brought to life but in the very structure of “Mandy,” which unfolds in a very untraditional manner in both halves. Scenes play out like songs on an album, episodically cast in extreme color palettes that amplify the trippy, surreal natures of the entire experience. “Mandy” is a fascinating genre exercise in that it is as untraditional a horror movie as you’ll see this year but also relies on so many classics of the form. It is, at its core, a downright biblical tale of evil and vengeance.

It’s also pretty bad-ass when it comes to stand-out moments, particularly an already-acclaimed fight with two men wielding chainsaws like they’re swords. It’s a perfect blend of the old and new in “Mandy” and a distillation of what the film does well in how it takes a familiar good vs. evil sequence and twists it to fit Cosmatos’ vision.

Having said that, there are times when I felt the length of said vision. “Mandy” runs over two hours, and a little of its style goes a long way. I think there’s a masterful version of this movie that runs notably shorter, but that doesn’t mean there’s not an unforgettable one the way it is right now. 

One more thing before you go on this journey with Nicolas Cage: the incredible Johann Johannsson ("Sicario," "Arrival") does the best of his career in this, his final film composition. The score here is another character, a series of screeching, violent noises that add to the tone of the film in ways that can't be overstated. The film simply doesn't work without it. And, as much as I like other parts of the movie, Johannson's work alone justifies a viewing. It reminds us how much we lost by his early passing.

from All Content https://ift.tt/2Mvn9GE

[pussymagicuniverse]

Werewolf Heart, a Hallow's Eve #meowlist by Jessie Lynn McMains

This year, for Pussy Magic’s second Hallow’s Eve: SCREAM issue, our music-lover, Jessie, compiled a spooky list of tracks for you to enjoy with some details below about the songs and musicians, why she chose them, and lyrics that she loves. Enjoy, Kittens, and we’ll see you later for the special upcoming issue!

1. Tom Waits — Dirt in the Ground

I could easily make an entire Halloween-season playlist using only Tom Waits songs, and it was difficult to narrow it down to just one. I chose this one for two reasons. One being that it is both spooky and sad, a perfect ode for this holiday which is all about honoring the dead and accepting death as a natural part of the life cycle. The other being my own personal associations with it—at a Halloween party in 2003, while in costume as a fallen angel, I performed an a capella version of this song.

The quill from a buzzard The blood writes the word I want to know am I the sky or a bird? ‘Cause hell is boiling over And heaven is full We’re chained to the world And we all gotta pull 

2. Johnny Cash — The Man Comes Around

This song isn’t so much creepy-sounding as it is lyrically terrifying. If anyone can make me believe in a Biblical-style apocalypse, it’s Johnny Cash. It also gets Halloween bonus points for its use in Dawn of the Dead.

The hairs on your arm will stand up At the terror in each sip and in each sup Will you partake of that last offered cup Or disappear into the potter’s ground? When the man comes around 

3. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds — Red Right Hand 

Nick Cave is another artist who could fill up an entire Halloween playlist all on his own. Be it with the Birthday Party or the Bad Seeds, the man can write a scary tune. This is by no means his scariest song (as far as I’m concerned, that titles belongs to “Song of Joy”*), but it does have a definite foreboding feeling; particularly during the organ solo. Ultimately, I chose this one for the playlist because of its use in the Scream franchise.

(*Fun fact: in “Song of Joy,” Nick references the same passage from Milton’s Paradise Lost that “Red Right Hand” was drawn from.)

You’ll see him in your nightmares You’ll see him in your dreams He’ll appear out of nowhere but He ain’t what he seems You’ll see him in your head On the TV screen Hey buddy, I’m warning You to turn it off 

4. Puerto Muerto — The Hangman’s Song

A sad and beautiful apocalyptic death-song. This is another one I once performed, at a Halloween show in 2009. And, like “The Man Comes Around,” this song is also on the Dawn of the Dead soundtrack.

The days will turn black, you soon will see. Soon we’ll all be swinging from a tree. Pray your neck breaks when the rope is taut. Pray your mother isn’t there to see. 

5. Delta Rae — I Will Never Die

Fleur suggested this song and as soon as I heard it I knew it was going on the playlist. It has a powerful, witchy, incantatory feeling to it, and the imagery in the lyrics is perfectly eerie. And I have a weakness for any song that uses chains as percussion instruments. 

Hickory, oak, pine and weed Bury my heart underneath these trees And when a southern wind comes to raise my soul Spread my spirit like a flock of crows 

6. Nina Simone — I Put A Spell On You

This tune is a must on any Halloween playlist. I adore the original Screamin’ Jay Hawkins version, but I think Nina Simone’s version is the sexiest and witchiest. Her deep, commanding voice and the jazzy sway of the music will put a spell on you for certain.

 I put a spell on you ‘Cause you’re mine You better stop the things you do I ain’t lyin’ No, I ain’t lyin’ 

7. Eartha Kitt — I Want To Be Evil

In this fun little tune, the inimitable Eartha Kitt (aka Catwoman) asks why bad boys get to have all the fun. C’mon, good girls and non-binary babes, cast off the shackles of gender-based behavioral expectations and be evil!

I want to be horrid, I want to drink booze And whatever I’ve got, I’m eager to lose I want to be evil, little evil me Just as mean and evil as I can be! 

8. Jill Tracy — Evil Night Together

Being bad can feel so good. This vampy dark cabaret number is the love song a femme fatale would sing in a film noir. It’s the kind of song you’d use to seduce the person you want as your partner. And by partner, I mean partner-in-crime.

I’ll hold your hand while they drag the river I’ll cuddle you in the undertow I’ll keep my hand on your trigger finger I’ll take you down where the train tracks go Let’s wile away the hours Let’s spend an evil night together 

9. Lana Del Rey - Season of the Witch

This is another seasonal classic. Hole’s cover is my favorite, but it’s not available on Spotify, and this version by Our Lady of Vintage Cool, Lana Del Rey, is really good, too. (Also, it appears on the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark soundtrack.)

When I look out my window, many sights to see. And when I look in my window, so many different people to be. That it’s strange. So strange. 

10. Austra — Spellwork 

Dark and danceable witchy synth-pop. Thanks to Cassidy Scanlon for the suggestion.

You must be the call The evil at night Speaking words of grace While spellwork delights Feel my desire, it burns like a fire 

11. World/Inferno Friendship Society — One for the Witches! 

The World/Inferno Friendship Society is another band that could easily fill up a Halloween playlist all on their own. Hell, their biggest show of the year is their Hallowmas show every October the 31st. I chose this one because it is an anthem of mine (so much so that I have a tattoo relating to it); it is an anthem for all witches and weirdos and misfits. You know? I mean, do ya know? 

“Supposed to be? I never gave it any thought Never gave a damn about what I’m supposed to be But if you’re asking what I am? I’m a fucking walking question mark I am a walking fucking time bomb!” 

12. Hag Face — Witch Stomp

This short instrumental tune sounds something like if Elvira had a garage band, and you combined their music with a tape of spooky sound effects. It’s fuzzed-out grunge, dark and hypnotic, and full of screams and howls.

13. The Distillers — I Am A Revenant

In folklore, a revenant is an animated corpse that is believed to have revived from death to haunt the living. In this loud-fast-rules punk song, Brody Dalle reminds us that even if the bastards kill us, we can return to haunt them for the rest of their days. 

We are the revenants We will rise up from the dead We become the living We’ve come back to reclaim our stolen breath 

14. Against Me! — Dead Rats 

This isn’t specifically a Halloween song (in fact, the only holiday it references is Easter), but sound and image-wise, it’s perfect. It’s a heartbroken rager, a love song for a fucked-up goth girl. It reminds me of so many girls I’ve known and loved; so many girls I’ve been.

Dear succubus, I miss you more than the rest But there’s a little bit less divide each time I look back In the eaves of your attic, I know how to haunt Shallow graves for all dead rats I like the dark clouds the best 

15. The Cramps — Sheena’s in a Goth Gang 

I had to include The Cramps and their brand of horror-surf-punk-psychobilly. In this song, Sheena’s not a punk rocker no more...she’s in a goth gang, now.

Mixed up women Do you have one in your house? She’s in the forbidden Vampire underground In the cult of the cobra Snakes in her hair She looks so macabre With her cobweb stare 

16. The Damned — Nasty

This song is such a rollicking tribute to horror and slasher flicks. Listen to it, then go watch the performance they did on The Young Ones, with Dave Vanian at his vampiric finest. Only pop music can save us now!

The axe is sharp And the blade is keen Creature features spill from the screen Shadows fall and all is gloom You’re not so safe In the safety of your room

17. Siouxsie and the Banshees — Halloween

This would be a poor excuse for a Halloween playlist if I didn’t include a song by the Queen of Goth herself, Siouxsie Sioux. It was a toss-up between this one and “Spellbound,” but I chose this one for the drive of the drums, the angular slash of the guitars, and the surreal and atmospheric lyrics. 

A sweet reminder In the ice-blue nursery Of a childish murder Of hidden luster And she cries “Trick or Treat” “Trick or Treat” The bitter and the sweet 

18. Bauhaus — Bela Lugosi’s Dead

I almost feel like I should apologize for including this song, but listen: this year’s Hallow’s Eve edition of Pussy Magic has a pop culture bent, and I’m currently working on a chapbook inspired by Bela Lugosi (amongst other classic horror actors), so I couldn’t not include it. Not to mention it’s a goth classic with the clattering-bone percussion, the reverb, the mesmeric bass line. Every time I listen to it I feel like I’m in a goth club in the ‘80s, all decked out in black lace and too much makeup, smoking clove cigarettes and dancing.

White on white translucent black capes Back on the rack Bela Lugosi’s dead The bats have left the bell tower The victims have been bled 

19. Oingo Boingo — Dead Man’s Party

Another Halloween classic by my favorite new wave/rock/ska/whatever (seriously, how does one classify Oingo Boingo’s music?) group of weirdos. It’s one of those great songs where the lyrics can be read into really deeply if you so choose, but it’s also just a hell of a lot of fun.

I got my best suit and my tie With a shiny silver dollar on either eye I hear the chauffeur comin’ to my door Says there’s room for maybe just one more 

20. The Gun Club — Death Party 

Poor old Jeffrey Lee. He had a lot of devils, and nowhere can you hear that better than in the yowl of this song. Musically, it’s something akin to Jim Morrison having psychedelic visions in the L.A desert, combined with blues, country, and punk. Lyrically, it’s about being drawn to self-destruction. 

Throw down your heartache, throw down your worldly blues They’ll tear your heart out, lookin at you wail the blues Come to the death party, you ain’t got nothing to lose 

21. Concrete Blonde — Bloodletting (The Vampire Song)

Concrete Blonde always had a dark side, but with the album Bloodletting they went even deeper into goth-rock territory. This, the title track, was inspired by Anne Rice’s novel Interview with the Vampire, and has a sexy swagger perfect for a creature of the night.

There’s a crack in the mirror And a bloodstain on the bed Oh, you were a vampire And baby, I’m the walking dead 

22. Sonic Youth — Halloween 

According to Kim Gordon, the lyrics to this song were inspired by watching Henry Rollins perform with Black Flag, which makes me chuckle. But in any case, this is a strange, creepy, and yeah, kinda sexy tune. There’s something ritualistic about it, like the incantation of a priestess as filtered through the lens of Sonic Youth’s noisy art-punk.

It’s the devil in me Makes me stare at you as you Twist up along you Sing your song and you’re Slipping up to me and you’re So close I just uh Want to touch you

23. Pixies — On Graveyard Hill

This track off the new Pixies album definitely has that off-kilter rock’n’roll Pixies sound I know and love. And the lyrics make it a perfect fit for a Halloween playlist.

In the poisonous forest, Donna lights up her torches Her eyes are flying saucers Her hair is black and gorgeous I see her down at the crossroads She can lead you to madness She’s leading me into darkness, in the witching hour

24. Tempers — What Isn’t There 

As I’ve been writing these descriptions and listening to the playlist again, I’ve realized a lot of the tracks are long—like, between five and ten minutes long. I think that’s fitting for this season and this holiday. Imagine the long songs on this playlist as aural films to get lost inside. This track by Tempers makes for a very dark and moody piece of ‘cinema.’ Thanks to Cassidy Scanlon for the suggestion.

25. Sigils — Samhain

If all metal sounded like this I would listen to more metal. I love the heavy drone of this song, so eerie and mysterious. And the lyrics make me picture teenagers sitting around an autumn bonfire, stoned, telling scary stories.

Everything is gold The wind a sickly sweet The smell of rotting leaves Bathe in ashes from the fire 

26. Dax Riggs — Ghost Movement

Yet another artist whose entire oeuvre, from Acid Bath to deadboy & the Elephantmen to his solo stuff, lends itself well to this season. This one’s a personal favorite when I’ve got those haunted blues. (After you’ve listened to the playlist, go listen to Dax’s cover of the Misfits’s “Skulls,” which he turned into a ballad.)

Kissed a blue girl While it rained broken glass Rode a bolt of white light With Satan on my lap 

27. Queens of the Stone Age — Mosquito Song

With imagery straight out of Hannibal Lecter’s cookbook, this song is a gorgeously scary ode to the cycle of life and death.

Cutting boards, hanging hooks Bloody knives, cooking books Promising you won’t feel a thing at all Swallow and chew, eat you alive All of us food, that hasn’t died 

28. Rasputina — Gingerbread Coffin

I would be remiss as a former creepy little girl who totally held doll funerals and as an overly dramatic goth who totally had a Rasputina phase if I didn’t include this song.

We brought, but not used A collection of knives We’ll remember this moment Through all of our lives She’ll rise

29. Dead Man’s Bones — Werewolf Heart

I’d never heard of Dead Man’s Bones until I was looking for songs for this playlist, but I love this song so much that I went to find more about the band and discovered... Ryan Gosling co-wrote this album with Zach Shields. Like: “Hey girl, I heard you liked ghosts and monsters and love stories, so I wrote you this monster-ghost-love story...” 

You’d look nice in a grave I smile at the moon, death is on my face And if you wait too long Then you’ll never see the dawn again 

30. Cat Power — Werewolf

I've had a long-time love for this eerie and beautiful Cat Power tune.

Oh the werewolf, oh the werewolf Comes stepping along He don’t even break the branches where he’s gone Once I saw him in the moonlight, when the bats were a flying I saw the werewolf, and the werewolf was crying

31. Neko Case — Deep Red Bells

This song was one of the inspirations for my poem which is appearing in the Hallow’s Eve issue. (The other inspiration was Seanan McGuire’s book The Girl in the Green Silk Gown.) It is a sad tribute to the murdered girls who are often forgotten.

Does your soul cast about like an old paper bag Past empty lots and early graves Of those like you who lost their way Murdered on the interstate While the red bells rang like thunder?

32. Nina Nastasia — In the Graveyard 

This season is all about honoring our dead, but sometimes we’re just not ready.

Someone told me that I should visit you in the graveyard Pull out all the weeds But I’m still lonely and I’m not ready You scared me when you hid behind the trees

33. Hozier — In a Week (feat. Karen Crowley)

This is another song, like “Dirt in the Ground” and “Mosquito Song,” which is about the cycle of life and death (we’re all gonna be dirt in the ground / all of us food that hasn’t died / after the foxes have known our taste). And call me weird and morbid, but I think it is one of the most romantic songs ever written. These lovers will not be parted even in death; death will only bind them closer together.

And they’d find us in a week When the buzzards get loud After the insects have made their claim After the foxes have known our taste After the raven has had its say I’d be home with you

Jessie Lynn McMains (they/them) is a poet, writer, zine-maker, and small press owner. They are a queer and non-binary mama to two wild kiddos. Aside from words, music is their favorite thing in the world. They’re also obsessed with tarot, the Midwest/Great Lakes/Rust Belt, ghosts, and the undying spirit of punk rock. You can find their website at recklesschants.net, or find them on Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram @rustbeltjessie.