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caltropspress · 3 months

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DEBRIEFING: 6 July 2024 | Brooklyn, NY | Young Ethel’s

The heat index decidedly did not come correct, so it was a relief when Omar’s Chevy Equinox [Interior Assassin’s Car, see: Monch & Po] picked me up on Saturday at seven:forty-five. He had the AC at brick levels, which was a welcome reprieve from the humidity outside, but he was also bumpin’ the Sacco & Vanzetti BEHEMOTH double-album, so that had me feeling a bit heat-strokey whenever the subwoofer thumped. [Omar is The Shah, the producer-half of S&V, someone I’ve known for roughly a quarter-century, but who only makes the rarest of public appearances at events of the hip-hop variety—bless his heart.] Pulled up to 506 5th Avenue—Young Ethel’s—and got to witness the inaugural Sacco & Vanzetti in-person encounter as Sko (the rapper-half of S&V) was at the bar. Young Ethel’s keeps the musickal performance space behind a black curtain, and the sparse stage is backdropped by papered palm fronds and palmettes. Height Keech, by all appearances, lugged and schlepped all necessary audio accoutrements onto the stage—not to mention the duffle-bagged stage lights (nothing needlessly ellipsoidal) that would eventually illuminate the Wave Generators’ headlining set [spectrum | wavelengths | refractions].

But first… Fellow Jerseyan Rose Image! was the opening act and led us on an exploration of uncertainty! NAHreally (who was in the place to be smilin’ and lankily profilin’ as he does) prepped me beforehand about Rose Image! Little did I know Rose Image! was the spirited fellow in pink hat and overalls excusing and squeezing his way between Sko and I at the bar. (Sko was edifying on the history of double albums in hip-hop; there’s been “90, with some asterisks,” according to his calculations.) Rose bedecked his stage table with stuffies beside his laptop, but that was only after he entered the performance space in theatrical fashion, wide-stepping through the crowd, lifting an imaginary helmet from his head as he bounded upon the stage (“Mission Start!”). He proceeded to lead us through his songs—his log entries—and engaged and entertained, showmanship and styles, high-stepping till his hat flew off like the helmet was intended to. There was no half-steppin’ with this young artist. He’s got a lightblue spirit! (And, yes, everything ends in an exclamation point [!!!!] with Rose Image!)

I picked at a Frederick Seidel poem the other morning, and a line in the third stanza read, “Who climbs a ladder through the stars to reach the moon, / And plucks at his laptop and it becomes a lute.” Not lutes nowadays, but loops, yes. Big Flowers debuted a heap of material from their long-anticipated album, Save the Bees, but because the aux port turned unruly, we heard an impromptu rendition with all Height Keech beats backing them instead of the Messiah Musik joints. “That’s what we have community for,” says Michael [Big Flowers]. We were treated to a brief acapella rendition of Debbie Harry’s “Rapture” verse by Nosaj during the tech-diff intermission. Appearing as something of a kerchiefed Willem Dafoe Last Temptation of Christ, anarcho-poppy plucker, scissor freak, Free Palestine leafletter poet, Big Flowers—barefooted and bangled—went otherworldly over a series of beats I can only describe as “Rock Hard” / “Rock the Bells”-era Rick Rubin for a post-ruined amerika where bearded gurus die in miasmic nuclear meltdowns. Flowers was impassioned, the musculature of their neck as defined as their nanomite verses—each word functioning in formlessness. I saw them perform on 9/17/22 at the Kingsland, and this level of ardor is the norm. They said at the start of their set that they weren’t fresh on stage banter, but they shouted-out Geng PTP who’s factored in as mentor and executive producer roles for the forthcoming project. No doubt, everybody will be ready for it.

andrew was next to step up, and heaven ain’t a halfpipe, but hell may well be a grind rail—he was loose-limbed from an earlier skate session (hovering high-pressure system be damned). His set was comprised of tracks from his Height Keech-produced project (dropping in a matter of days), Can I Write A Requiem For You When You’re Dead? Keech—if you’re one to pick up on patterns—was very much the maestro of what was heard on this particular night. andrew stood centerstage, his feet teetering yet toe-steady on the edge, for most of his songs. He shared his honesty-raps full of found material and gallows humor. “I had a dream I got decapitated with a long-bladed knife,” he says early on “soda & chocolate,” but—not to be outdone—hits back with an anecdote about his belt not fitting right: “Maybe it’ll fit later, but either way it fits my throat, / It seems sturdy, and yeah, I like the design, / You gotta look cool—it’s no exception when you die.” Sko rocked with andrew on “purple & gold,” and Height, Darko the Super, and ialive joined the crowded stage for the “based on a drew story” posse cut. Most memorable, by all metrics, was the hook for “PCP,” a track which will include feature-fiends Alaska and Defcee when the album drops. andrew had the room humming along with its initial reprise: “My lower back hurts when I breathe deep, / When I was thirteen, I smoked PCP, / Alcoholic half my life, but now I’m clean…mostly.” I spoke with Sasco and shemar while Wave Generators prepped their performance. Sasco has an album soon coming, and it hosts what seems to be the whole-ass Hit Squad of underground renaissance NY-centric rap heads: Big Flowers, shemar, miles cooke, Nakama., Sunmundi, and even the elusive Hester Valentine, whom I had inquired about.

When Wave Generators—Nosaj and Height Keech—took the stage in their matching mechanic coveralls (raided Steve Albini’s closet, seemingly), the anticipation had built from the groundwork laid by Nature Boy Jim Kelly’s in-between music selections. Nature Boy Jim Kelly (one of Nosaj’s alter egos), bandit bandana’d, let us know how we got here. He was calling all active agents. The way I started to convulse, you’d think he’d released nerve agents. Never mind if you’re familiar with the pair of New Kingdom albums from 19 Naughty III and 19 Naughty VI (Heavy Load and Paradise Don’t Come Cheap, respectively), most heads got familiar through the faith healing of ELUCID who summoned Nosaj’s foulgrowl for the hook on Armand Hammer’s “Leopards” in 2020: “The savage in me I can’t stop, / Y’all made me this way—I’m too far gone to turn back now, / Ain’t a block, nigga, I can’t rock, / Streets raised me this way, / You know the vibe, nigga, I can’t stop.” A chorus of resistance, of refusal, and the ironic use of “savage” not so different from Baldwin saying, I was a savage about whom the least said the better. The re-ignition [word to Bad Brains] of Nosaj begged to say more. So he did, and on the Small Bills project with The Lasso the following year, ELUCID invited Nosaj to lay down another refrain for “Hush Harbor”: “I might be wrong, I might be right, / I’m too far from the shore to turn back, I can’t lie.” Both refrains referred to Nosaj as having come “too far” to “turn back”—he’s always been forward-thinking, a follower of Newton’s First Law of Motion, a momentum mensch. Though the cultural currents often want to push back and wash away—further back than the Gee Street Records catalog; further back than antebellum, than slaves assembling in secret; further back than transatlantic re-routings; way back—back into time! (as The Jimmy Castor Bunch always said)—Nosaj has never been a troglodyte. This all checks out. On After the End, Wave Generators’ debut for steel tipped dove’s Fused Arrow Records, there exists an overriding concern with reestablishing oneself—of re-routing and re-rooting when one feels deracinated, when one feels thrown off-course. Appropriately, where Busta Rhymes might Tear da Roof Off, Wave Generators tear the roots up. Both, though, have eschatological preoccupations—the album title itself (after the end) suggests the end is not even the end, my only friend. There’s more to be said, had, good, bad, armagideon time, [difficult listening 4] armageddon, volume 1 through volume 10 (word to Dino Hawkins).

The lexical meaning of gene- [“to give birth, beget”] and the Greek genea [“generation, race”] let heads know Wave Generators are still going on, strong-going, headstrong. Wherever they set up shop is the stronghold. Similar to artists like Mike Ladd or the Infesticons, Wave Generators welcome us to the afterfuture. They chugged through much of their album, filling the dark stage in a way the previous acts didn’t necessarily seem to, their physical forms formidable. “Where I’m going I can’t call it—I don’t know where it is,” Nosaj says on “I’ve Got My Whole Life Ahead of Me,” sound advice for any 40 or 50-something. “I’m about to bang to the moon, / Alice Coltrane: play it in my motherfuckin’ tomb!” Some real bliss: eternal now shit coming out the speakers. These Wave Generator songs are about illimitable promise, as so many of the titles indicate. “I’m Setting Up in a New City” finds Nosaj shouting post-apocalyptic post-mortem post-rap[ture] rhymes: “Ooh, baby—it’s a wild, wild world, / It’s after the end of this experiment.” Weirdly, perhaps, I began to think about the old call-and-response traditional, “I’m Building Me A Home.” In my mind, there’s a timeless symmetry between it and “I’m Setting Up in a New City”—a shared hope in finding safety and solace within the blast zone. When you hear me moanin’... When you hear me shoutin’... This earthly house is gonna soon decay. “Decay” like Fatboi Sharif and dove, mayhaps, but Nosaj is assuredly shoutin’ and moanin’. Nosaj isn’t alone. He arranges for GG Allin and Cyndi Lauper to share an electrifying embrace seconds later (and on “Reverse the Curse” it’ll be Santana and Coltrane). As with New Kingdom, the ongoing effort—advertentently or not—involves reclaiming rock music for its rightful heirs. On House of Disorder, an earlier offering from Mr. Furlow and dove, Nosaj invoked the Beatles: “John, Paul, Ringo, George-fucking-Harrison, / Niggas on weed, whiteboys on heroin.” He declares his “daddy was a black Mick Jagger” on “Cree Summer,” and seemingly subverts every performance of “Sweet Black Angel” the Rolling Stones have ever done as they sing for Angela Davis in a Dunbar-like dialect and with minstrel mystery. He’s not taking crowd requests, but on “Freebird” from his collaboration with V8 TFD (Acid is Groovy, Kill the Pigz), he sings, “I’m leeeeaving on a Jefferson Airplane, / My mind moving slow, Lord know when I’m back again.” Consequently, John Denver’s single-engine aircraft crashes into Monterey Bay and makes waves.

We are living in the age of—not the aged rapper—but of the venerable MC. Still, that’s no reason not to tap into teenage angsty disregard for parental hand-wringing. Waste not, want not your youthful verve: “My mom say I’m incompetent, / Last night I lost my confidence, / Told her I didn’t give a fuck, now I wish I fucking did.” Nosaj is kinetic—if MC is mover of crowds, then he’s ever-moving them through his own body movements: his arms spastic, his head and jaw shaking. You can hear it in his delivery, in his words. Height Keech, meanwhile, sounds reminiscent of MCA in his timbre—deliberate, clarified, keen-eyed. The formula of fuzzed-out riffs and raw-as-ruckus drums is especially pleasing in this age of meandering, percussion-light loops. Witness headbanging and just-freed-oneself-from-this-damn-straitjacket pop and lock maneuvers. Keech holds his own on the microphone, too. On “True North” (we’re still navigating, y’see), he’s got the Son of Sam and Kurtis Blow in his alley of allusions, and he’s armed with optimism as well: “We can’t let these hard times follow us and barrel down our parlor door.” Turning back. Pushing ahead. Coming and going. Followed and ditched. Running to and fro. Back and forth. Wave Generators utilize chaos to “Reverse the Curse.” With confidence: We’ll run these fascist pigs right out of toooowwwwwnn. Baby, those ain’t fireworks—them there live rounds, baby. What I saw on-stage during the Wave Generators’ performance matched a description I read in John Gardner’s The Resurrection (1966) the following morning, so I’ll leave you with that: “Then there exploded a terrible holocaust of chords and runs, each note precise, overpowering, irremissible—not music but a monstrous retribution of sound, the mindless roar of things in motion, on the meddlesome mind of man.”

Photos and video screenshots by Caltrops Press and NAHreally, respectively.

#underground hip hop #zines #wave generators #big flowers #andrew #live music

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looosey · 1 year

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Amari's Rap Journey #2: Class Listening Party

Imagine this. It's the day after classes ended, and you wake up at 12 again, and look up around you at the messy-ass room that's been left after a 48 hour work grind. You do two loads of laundry, take a shower, and cook yourself a breakfast, all while watching the time because at 3 p.m... At 3 p.m. is the class listening party.

MIT Building 4 Room 237. You enter the lecture hall at 3:15 and most of the other kids are sitting sporadically in the first five rows. Scoot up! You think, and you sit next to your friend Z in row 2. Scoot up someone says, and I sit in the first row next to Tagoe, a DJ whose energy I'm a fan of [1]. Everyone is in the first two rows now, including Dee-1 from Harvard and two HASS professors that are close to Lupe, and we're waiting for Lupe to walk in and the listening party to start.

Yo... You needed to be there, it was soooo crazy. We started listening to EP after EP, and these people are actually sooo talented. Some industry level sounds, some quirky conceit albums about physics and history, some conceptual ones about being on one long drive or one continuous loop, and one fun Rico Nasty sounding track that was so fye we had to play it three times and mosh.

When we played mine, I was a lot more confident because I'd already played it in front of iHouse before. I hope to never forget the responses of my fellow rappers in the room though.

They were caught by surprise by the trap record for Show Me The Money, Dee-1 looked at me and asked: that's you? They found G-DRAGON funny, and Ally even recognized it was about G-DRAGON before the chorus hit (that's more than I could ask for). Suffolk county water dropped, and Lupe shouted me out after that some of those bars were written behind bars and Ally said she had been hoping to listen to them again. So both of them responded positively, and I'd shouted them out in the beginning of the track. Nomadic Seoul of course was a little quieter until the beginning of verse 2, which I knew was going to get a stronger response. They really liked the bar:

"Now I know better there's more to life than work, in fact life don't work less there's more to life than work."

And the bars before and after. Lupe said the bars were hard. In general I'd been a little scared about being TOO personal in a freakin, class project, but I'm glad I did what I wanted to. Monk said she liked it too, when I saw her in the hallway.

All in all, I really appreciated them all for hyping the EP up, I think I was dapped up more in those 8 minutes than I been in like 8 years. And Dee-1 even bowed at me after, bruh, like I'm such a fan of his Jay, 50, and Weezy track [2]. I can't. He did leave right after, but still??? I'm complete.

Some of the kids didn't want to show their EP's off, but I know know know that showing up was so important to me. That's a value that was always important but really instilled in me by Lupe and this class.

After my UROP meeting I ran into Ally and we went to his office to get feedback right after. I love Ally, I'm a fan [3]. For advice, I asked him to teach us how we should improve in the next three months. The advice I'll record in another post, but it was detailed and I'm so grateful for it. I appreciate Lupe as a teacher so much and after our dinner tomorrow, the class is really ending. It's been amazing!! Now, to take his class next year or not...

Footnotes (inspired by @tumblasha):

[1] Tagoe's Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/jonathan-tagoe-548571918

[2] the track is so good: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1IGfv8zSgw

[3] Ally Minju's spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/3jZQxUxjnQ753paNQHHuUk?si=EK-A6vkPSKOmB9s6wOqZ7g

#amaris-rap-journey #listening party #rap ep

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reliablejoukido · 2 years

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I recently gotten into daikeru which lead me into daikenkeru and daiken... and was wondering if u have any headcannon on them

First of all, this ask is amazing. It encompasses all the best ships. Secondly, I’m not sure which of these you’re looking for headcanons of, so I’ll just do all three of them.

Just a heads up, as with most of my headcanons, these take place when they are ADULTS (Kizuna-era and beyond). I won’t post any explicit headcanons here, but I might be persuaded to write explicit fic......🤫

Daikeru:

I just posted some Daikeru headcanons in another ask, so I will direct you there

older Daikeru headcanons worth checking out if you haven’t already

I’ll post a bonus one here: Jun makes a surprise visit to Daisuke’s apartment while Daisuke has Takeru over for a date. Daisuke is too embarrassed to explain to Jun what’s going on, but she gets V-mon to spill the beans. Then she stays for dinner anyway, much to Daisuke’s chagrin. Takeru thinks it’s really funny

Daiken:

Daisuke is annoyed at how Ken never seems to react when Daisuke flirts with him. He makes up a fake boyfriend to get Ken jealous. Ken sees through this really easily and realizes Daisuke likes him

Daisuke brings Ken lunch to his office at Digimon Criminal Affairs every once in a while. People at the office start thinking Daisuke is Ken’s boyfriend, and Ken doesn’t correct them. Ken has a really bad day, and Daisuke randomly chooses that day to bring him lunch. Ken kisses him on the cheek

Daisuke loves when Ken grows his hair out. The firsts time Daisuke runs his fingers through Ken’s long hair, he tries to be sneaky about it and pretends like he’s putting a friendly arm around Ken’s shoulders. The second time Daisuke touches Ken’s hair, his hand lingers and Ken’s heartbeat races the whole time. Daisuke of course hears his heartbeat and realizes Ken may have feelings for him

Ken likes when Daisuke has some stubble. When they start dating, he finds himself drawn to kissing Daisuke’s jaw when Daisuke forgets to shave

Daikenkeru:

The three of them host a youtube show together where they drink and read questions about Digimon and the Digital World sent to them on social media. Takeru knows a lot of Digimon history, Ken knows a lot of Digital World geography, and Daisuke brings a lot of energy to the show (also he picks the questions). Ken doesn’t drink, so he has the job of keeping the other two in check. It can get a little over the top the longer a taping session goes on. The camera crew ships all three of them. (god I need fanart of this youtube verse so bad).

BASED ON THIS POST -- Daisuke pretends to get drunk, then pretends to need Ken to carry him home, and Takeru records it on his phone while trying to get Daisuke to sing stupid songs. But when they drop Daisuke off at his apartment, they find out he was faking being drunk and he just wanted Ken and Takeru to come over. Hijinks and more ensue.

Daisuke is annoyed at how Takeru and Ken are either oblivious to or completely ignore his flirting. He wants them both. He decides to ask Takeru to be his fake boyfriend in order to win over Ken, and then he asks Ken to be his fake boyfriend to win over Takeru. Daisuke thinks this plan will work, and it does, just not the way he expected it to. Ken doesn’t like the idea of making others jealous, so he just asks Takeru point blank if he’s interested in Daisuke. Takeru says yes, and finds the whole charade hilarious. Daisuke notices them together and thinks they’re on a date with each other, barges in, and gets jealous. Some other stuff happens, some lessons are learned, and idk they start a poly relationship with the understanding that jealousy is not healthy for any of them

Hikari and Miyako start dating, throwing Daisuke, Takeru, and Ken for a loop. During the course of a conversation with the girls, Miyako tells the three boys to just start dating each other for god’s sake

Surprise Fourth Option - Kenkeru!

Takeru buys Ken Sherlock Holmes-style detective hat for Christmas and Ken secretly loves it

This was all I could think of right now, but ask me again in like a month and maybe I’ll have a few more. As always, feel free to send me ship asks.

(also I am currently writing a Daikenkeru fic!)

#daikeru #daiken #daikenkeru #daisuke motomiya #takeru takaishi #ken ichijouji #my headcanons;#daikeru;#daiken;#daikenkeru;#asks;

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inthewaterifoundyou · 1 year

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i saw your post on reddit. the new story is very good. do you plan on writing anything else in the got fandom?

ITW is my main project right now. Once I complete that fic, I'll start working on my abuse!route fic—but I do have four active WIPs for ASOIAF. I've gotten a lot of good feedback on my latest Sansa piece, so I think I'll do more ghost!au fics with different protags.

Below are my ASOIAF WIPs—please keep in mind that all the titles and summaries are tentative.

Title: You Are Someone Else (I Am Still Right Here)

Summary: “The first night he wakes to Tysha standing over him—head tilted unnaturally to the left, blinking down at him with haunting blue eyes—he empties his stomach.” (Or that one where Jaime Lannister can see the ghosts of dead maidens.)

Notes: This is the "Jaime prays to the Maiden and can see ghosts" companion to my Sansa fic. They aren't in the same verse—just similar concepts I'm going to consolidate into a series.

Title: The Violence (Becomes You)

Summary: Maenaera Belaeyrs was many things: a dragonlord of old, a dream walker, a blood mage—but she is also Shaera Targaryen. (Or, a dragon rider from Old Valyria is reborn as the eldest daughter of Aegon V.)

Notes: Everyone else in the fandom has an OC WIP, so I was starting to feel left out. There aren't enough unhinged/evil protagonists, and I love Aegon V's era. I plan on this one to be a long fic.

Title: I See It (I Take It)

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. And there she is again, and again, and again, and again. (In an ideal world the version of Sansa trapped in a time loop would be self-reliant, confident, and a fully realized queen dropped into her childhood with all the foreknowledge needed to fix the future with ease. This is not that world.)

Notes: I just think timeloop fics and Sansa are both separately neat—so obviously both together would be doubly neat.

Title: I Got a Name (And I Carry It With Me Like My Daddy Did)

Summary: "At the end of all things, Sansa stands at the edge of Winterfell and remembers when the world was a song." In one universe, Sansa Stark dies as the eldest daughter of Catelyn and Eddard Stark. In another, Minisa's eldest son survives the cradle. These things are not mutually exclusive. (Alternatively, that fic where Sansa is reborn as Elston Tully sixteen years before Robert's Rebellion.)

Notes: I really enjoy transmigration/isekai fics where the protag gets dropped into the opposite gender. I think it results in some really fun work. I'm a big "write the stories you want to read" and I really want to read something like this.

Feel free to ask for previews of any of these (or any of my Your Boyfriends WIPs), I love sharing. :)

#my fics #asks

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runelocked · 1 year

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drop your top 10 fnaf songs now pls

didn’t know if you meant actual fan songs or songs i associate with fnaf so i did five of each!! i could speak about all of these songs for hours so i WON’T but if you’re curious pls ask ^_^

1. I CAN’T FIX YOU / THE LIVING TOMBSTONE

OKAY THIS SONG GETS ME. You’ve been mourning your loss here and that’s grinding my gears, how can a human lose their self control? There’s nothing left to make you whole GETS ME. I LOVE Circus Baby & her story and everything about her so this song drives me wild already (unless i’ve interpreted it wrong and it’s not about baby in which case. oops!). the fact she’s speaking to william here and how frustrating it is for her that he’s MOURNING while his hands are covered in blood (her blood). this is such a bitter sad song and it makes me crazy so have some more lyrics that make me insane!

You oversaturate your world with nothing but machines. You might make everyone happy, but you’re dead inside, just like me. And now we’re here at a standstill — I wonder if you feel the kind of pain that puts your insides out (that’s something I know all about).

2. AFTON FAMILY / APANGRYPIGGY

i mean you KNOW my obsession with the afton family. you KNOW how bad it is. switching between each of the afton children and william (WHERE IS MRS AFTON. WHERE IS SHE. WHERE’S THE LOML) is such an interesting take on the song and you already know that the family is my main point of interest in the lore !!! also the chorus just SLAPS: all stay strong, we live eternally! all is well in the afton family vs lives, they fell to pure insanity! all is hell in the afton family is good ok. like i am a simple person with simple pleasures. a good bit of lyrical contrast is one of them ^_^

3. DRAWN TO THE BITTER / DHEUSTA

HENRY AND WILLIAM SONG. HENRY AND WILLIAM SONG. WHAT’S NOT TO BE OBSESSED WITH. if those other two songs weren’t so good then this would be ranked higher tbh!!! i am a SUCKER for this song and also for the pre to post diner era. to me it sounds like it’s from william’s perspective too as he reminisces on the past (a loss of precious life, a part of me died inside that night) and that makes it so much better for me…. the tragedy unfolding through the verses while the chorus drills home how inevitable the events were always going to be … tragedy is drawn to the bitter and william is the most bitter one out there :’)

4. FIVE MORE NIGHTS / JT MUSIC

fun fact!!! i heard this song before five long nights and i love them both. this one slips by into being in my favorite five list though. just a good old fashioned low lore song and it makes me so damn hyped and reminds me of the core of the franchise. the edits i see to this part of the song — did you listen to the vision you saw? as the clock keeps ticking we’ll be giving you more — do you remember the original four? take a look at us now, ‘cause our condition is poor! we were left to decay in this dark troubled place… — fucking rock ok. like all of them. this song is a bop idc

5. BELOW THE SURFACE / GRIFFINILLA

first fnaf song i ever heard so it holds a special place in my heart :3 also because sl is one of my fav games (that im gonna be playing on stream later most likely YAYY)!! his voice means to deceive you, my voice just wants to lead you. i used to squint a little at the line built without purpose because well . they WERE built with purpose. but in my understanding of the lore, these ones were the first to be built for purposes OTHER than fun/family etc, so they lack an innocent purpose so i get that part of the song now agdkhd. also who can resist exotic butters as the outro huh. c good song, v catchy, it’s gonna be stuck in my head all day now !

—

1. NO SURPRISES / RADIOHEAD

another afton family insp. song, by which i mean i loop this while writing anything remotely sad about the franchise and cry endlessly over them!!! I’m probably gonna do an ACTUAL line by line analysis of this and how it relates to my will & mike writing, but have a few for now: a job that slowly kills you (both mike & will), you look so tired and unhappy (the job destroying who william once was), i’ll take a quiet life, a handshake of carbon monoxide, no alarms and no surprises (see last bits of analysis), this is my final fate (both of them, father and son, facing painful ends at the hands of animatronics). and then of course we have such a pretty house and such a pretty garden no alarms and no surprises (get me out of here) because so MUCH of the toxicity in the household was so insidious. a carbon monoxide death. william’s effect on the rest of the family poisoned them slowly and michael was resigned to it for so much of his life (no alarms and no surprises) but inwardly wanted out so BAD (get me out of here). this song fucking destroys me!

2. THE MIND ELECTRIC / CHONNY JASH

a cassidy song in my mind. especially this version! really does well at highlighting the bitterness and hatred she feels for william. “this creature hardly resembles a man, my logic is the absolute, his pity parties simply harm these chances at an apt repute esteemed regard in place of mockery” like YES!!! read him!!! have more that’s just SO fitting for the dynamic of these two:

3. KISS ME, SON OF GOD / THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS

4. SICK ON SEVENTH STREET / SARAH & THE SAFE WORD

5. THE DEAD COME TALKING / ROE KAPARA

#(o) ooc #(i.c) all is hell; headcanons #(( not really but these songs inform my writing of William so!))

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spoks-au-center · 2 years

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Master Chef Junior: Vincent’s Bizarre Adventure 3 The Search Of Tim The AU (it’s all one title) The Movie, only in 3D and IMAX 3D PG17 the AU

> this au starts in the “canon” world and diverges into like every other au “world”/”dimension”/”timeline”

> its the au crossover au or something

> lets just call it the master chef jr au or mcjr au i wish i remembered why is it actually called like that lol

> main characters:

- “canon timeline” Vincent

- “canon timeline” Howard

- “bad ending” Roswell

> supporting characters:

- “mirror verse” Gordon and Ramsay

- “mirror verse” Vincent

-”bad ending” Ryland

- the cast of superhero au i GUESS TOO

So because Vincent just can’t have a single nice day in his life, this time when Howard appears(as he usually does to pester his mortal “friends”) he tells V to go and chase after Roswell who’s apparently doing something to space and time but Howard himself has a lot of Watching Over to do so he cant do it himself(sure dude). Before V can say no or what hes already thrown Beyond Dimensions(roll credi- no wait thats no longer the title dang) with some doohickey in his hands thats supposed to help him track Tim down wherever he even is but hes leaving some time and space distortion after him so thats how. As he tries to catch up he meets some quirky au versions of people he knows or even himself that totally isnt trying to kill him but we dont have time for this. As much as Roswell being up to no good worries him, he doesnt really care that much cuz in the end its just doing howards dirty work and we dont like Howard here, but If he wants to go back Home he needs to catch up with Tim. Oh yeah and Gordon and Ramsay tag along by accident at some point too. Its an old au.

Meanwhile, Tim totally notices that someones after him but it doesnt look like its Howard himself(cuz he wouldnt be alive for long if it was howard lol)so hes just like whatever cuz he’s been at this for like Years we are talking Nobody Knows How Long I Barely Remember My Life Before This Kind Of Long; well until V almost gets himself killed while in the chase so Tim has to go back and save him cuz hes a Good Person Damnit. Then we find out that Tims actually trying to find Ryland whos been sucked in by a malfunctioning Breach All Those Years Ago and he might have ended up somewhere between Nowhere and one of the worlds.

SUPERHERO AU CROSSOVER

> superhero AU post

> the crossover canonically happens during the superhero au

SPH!Roswells tower messes up MCJR!Roswells equipment and he ends up stuck in a loop going back to this dimension. As he can’t leave he warns his other self that its dangerous and that hes playing with forces hes not even aware of.

In one of the ending versions where SPH!Roswell falls into a coma, the hero squad seeks help from his alien self to help destroying The Event.

FUN FACT: in the early version of the superhero au mattie didnt know Vincent was a hero and didnt suspect him because she met his MCJR!self and his hero persona Guardian at the same place and time lol (this is no longer canon as both of them are heroes and know of each other identities from the start now)

PICKLE AU CROSSOVER

> pickle au post

> well as they are both Tims that are missing their Rylands i think they should join a therapy group together

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certainwill · 4 years

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“Rika...”

Somehow, it surprises Satoko for Rika to admit it so easily, rather than brushing it off. Staring back at her friend with a worried expression on her face, Satoko takes a moment to think about what she should say next. ...It’s a little difficult to find the right words.

“That’s because you’re an incredibly kind person, Rika. But... it’s important that you don’t forget about yourself! I... want to see you happy. You’re my best friend, you know?”

@pinafcl (continued from here!)

#ic #pinafcl #v. unspecified.#these two... i love them... ;~;#also; do you have any preference for what verse this takes place in?#mostly whether or not it's post-canon vs. in the middle of one of the other arcs/rika's time loops.

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madamhatter · 4 years

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and the walls were breathing.

continued from here. / @anhedonialunatic

Rhetorical questions weren’t befitting the occasion. Knotted tongue and gagged throat aside, Sophie Hatter refrains from asserting her sardonic repartee in an otherwise incompatible and inappropriate situation. Jittering fingers growing already clammy, and she squeezes herself into a hug. Between the slot of her fingers, the comfort of gray wooly material of her cardigan is tugged and pulled on, the longer her gaze lingers upon the messes before them.

Plastered grime was across the wreckage of what they considered to be the kitchen. However, slipping between the drawer doors that hung loosely by their corroded hinges, was a distinct, gag-worthy stench. The odors of unmentionable dread creep and fill the air around them. The seamstress hid her flared nostrils and tightened lips behind the collar of her cardigan, glancing at her equally-as-revolted partner. If only we could open a window, she reason. But, rationalization strikes immediately at the possible effect, If we did, we’d be compromising the scene...the scene of whatever happened here.

Moldy and discolored dishes and bowls are stacked across the counter and tabletop, surrounded by the unfinished remains of non-perishable cans and tins. Layers and layers of mud and dirt tainted the tile floors, making their original color impossible to note. The more of a mess she noticed, the closer Sophie inched to the black-haired man.

Now, her scarred fingers swim into the depths of her cardigan’s deep pocket, slowly revealing a sealed white pouch. Quietly, she handles the bag and maintains her distance from any surface. While the flimsy material unfolds and it seals break, something itched in the back of Sophie’s mind. Clean, clean, clean, it told her, get this whole place under a sponge, broom, and mop. She shakes her head, muttering herself to “stop it,” before the unraveled and small bag reveals a pair of blue nitrile gloves.

“If you need a pair,” she glances at the man, “please do not hesitate to ask.” Only the sound of crumbling paper followed as she slowly slipped on her gloves. Flexing her fingers into the tight material, getting comfortable at the sensation, she fixates at the mess,

Sophie steps forward over to his side, inspecting the table once more. “Should we be considering their habits poor-like or survivor-like? There is some overlap between the two, but these conditions....” Shaking her head, she waves a hand into the air, dismissing herself. “It’s far too soon to make a judgment call on whether or not they’re living here or about anything yet.”

“I--” Crrrk. Sophie’s head snaps up, squinting at the muffled, pounding sound from above. Her arm slowly raises not too far above her abdomen, but high enough to safeguard the other. A small gear shifted in her mind, defensive on the ready if her next thought came true -- if whatever was upstairs decided to greet them.

“...This house is lively, isn’t it?” Her tongue clicks, a high-pitch sound full of sardonicism, as she returns her focus to her partner and rests her arm down.

Zzz--pshhh...That sound... The silver-haired woman turns once more, eyes searching around the room for its source. Static, good lord, is this a case of Poltergeist too? Is a T.V. set possessed too?

Tossed aside on the ground, a thick and black handheld radio can be found. A small button upon its right side is emitting a red glow as a female voice calls out. For assistance, for help, for presence, for anything...

“We can now confirm there are more individuals involved,” she mentions, walking over and kneeling down to retrieve the radio. Her fingers tap along the metal shell and she wrinkles her nose, caught in thought.

“...I’m going to respond to it if there aren’t any objections,” she waits for any objections or considerations. Though, her own stubbornness wasn’t clouding her mind -- the fact someone, possibly more than one person if a ‘Kasey France’ was mentioned, would be in need of dire help was causing her mind to cement things quicker.

Her thumb teases the PTT button, keeping herself at ease. "..Or would that be causing too much trouble when we barely know anything yet?”

#anhedonialunatic #( verse: indeterminate )#[ time to get myself back into resident evil ! ]#[ ty again for letting me reply to this ;v;b ]#[ ....and now to play disturbia on loop ]#long post tw #long post

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loopedliability · 4 years

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@actssassin said: “You touch like, weird, weird things, like weird objects and like things on the wall that you shouldn’t be touching.”

“ oh, does this bother you? ” she says evenly, one brow quirking up slightly in challenge. it’s still weird being out of the hellish loop she’d been stuck in for -- god knows how long. but one of the many positives she’s discovered since escaping is that, somehow, she left all her fucks behind her. although -- if she’s honest -- her behavior might seem a little... weird to an outsider... “ what’s the matter? is it a germ thing? ” with a mischievous grin, she juts her hand out towards him. “ maybe you’re just squeamish, man. ”

#actssassin #v. ｢ verse • post loop. ｣#i don't even KNOW lolol

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onetimetwotimesthreetimess · 3 years

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Do you have any angsty malec fic recs?

Yasss bro!!! angst is my jam. most of these are like really long 50k+ words fic cause what's not to like about hundreds of pages of angst and pining.

i) Canon verse

dissolution by @cuubism : I can't explain this one in words. this is v heavy on Magnus angst but it's genuinely one of the best.

Reconstruction : canon-divergence after S2 breakup. Malec slowly rebuilding their relationship

Last Thing on the List @khaleesiofalicante: Post-canon: Alec wants kids, Magnus doesn't

Traveler : Max time travels to the past

Time loop: Magnus just won't stop dying

Your Name for a Capital: time travel fic: mild angst

ii) Human AU

Love Is Not a Victory March: this one is a masterpiece and will make you sob like a baby Plot: Magnus asks for a divorce from Alec

42 North 71 West: Its less angsty compared to the others but still has a lot of pining/separation angst

iii) WIP

Love Begins After Forever: I'm sure you have heard about it but incase you haven't, proceed with caution cause this one will hurt like a bitch. Part 2 is WIP but the author is very regular with the updates.

#malec fic rec #ask box #malec

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shriekbackmusic · 2 years

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1000 BOOKS: track-by-track by Carl & Barry (see previous post for credits and lyrics)

SPACE IN THE BLUES (CARL MARSH)

Very often - well, almost always, actually - my first step in building a Shriek song is injecting lyric fragments from a notebook into a sympathetic host groovelet. In this case, I had a few lines, including ‘be not afraid of beauty / do not avoid the light’ and ‘I am shimmer and glare / I am vanishing rare’, both of which made it to the final draught, and the over-arching - and, indeed, over-arch - working title, ’the sum of all our follies’, which didn’t, though it kinda tells you where I was at. So I clearly needed something pretty epic, quite downtempo, dramatic - or even melodramatic - and, the lyrics seemed to be suggesting, something in a 6/8 or 3/4 rhythm. Listening through the 20-30 grooves we’d spawned in our 2-day jamming session in October 2020, I think there was only one candidate with the required 6/8 feel, and, luckily, it fit - sometimes it’s great when there’s no choice: it saves so much time.

The improvisation had been given the working title ‘Space Blues’ because it was, well, spacey and bluesy, with a fair bit of Dave Gilmour-esque echoey guitar noodling. That was soon stripped out; I asked Martyn to send me a cleaned-up version of the drum groove and I started structuring the song over that. However, by the time we were in the rehearsal room in May 2021, I still wasn’t sure where the song was going - I had three distinct sections evolving, all quite promising, but not really unified lyrically or melodically: it sounded like there might actually be two separate songs there. It took a few hours in my hotel room in Eastbourne to get the three melodic/lyric parts to sit together as a unified verse/chorus and then expand the lyric to three verses. I ended up with this big, torch-songish thing where each verse surged unstoppably towards a cliff edge where our overwrought narrator would fall off… or through… what, exactly? I had no idea what that would be until I realised - either through desperation, luck, synergy or the benevolence of the Shriekback über-spirit - that, with a minor tweak, ‘Space Blues’ could become ‘the space in the blues’ and I could fall through that. Yippee: demo vocal recorded on phone, job done.

Except… I had no guitar or keyboard with me that night, so I couldn’t hack out the chord progressions. So the next day I sang it to Barry as we sat around the piano, old-school stylee. Which we hadn’t done for a long time… if ever, come to think of it. Barry’s first take on it was full-on Berlin/Paris cabaret, which was a hoot but unfortunately didn’t quite work with my melody, so we got it down to the verse/chorus you hear on the record .Barry wrote the middle eight later.

UNHOLINESS (CM)

Like several tracks on the album, Unholiness began as an improvisation in a writing session at Echo Zoo i October ’20. As is a fairly standard practice for us now, - WFH veterans that we are - I sent Martyn some edited clips from the jam which he used to build a drum track which formed the bedrock to develop the song (no change there, then). I put down a rhythm guitar first, for groove and vibe; the next thing to go on, oddly perhaps, was the multi-tracked ‘yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah’ vocal - it was a clear idea I had in my head and defined a certain part of the character of the song, so it went in early, as did the brassy synth part, which picked the bones out of some of Barry’s keys from the improvisation to make a hook. That was enough to sketch out the core vocal/lyrical ideas; I thought these might have to be extensively revised later, but as it turned out they survived pretty much intact. Finally, I had great fun putting on a nifty bass part - so much fun I even posted a video of it (it’s here, should you be following the trail - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkVTWuOqc3M).

So far, so funky. My only reservation was whether I was too far back in the Shriek-funk comfort zone when we had an intention to explore a new landscape of glitchy loops, unpredictable fx and a plugged-in electro-Mart. Hmmm…

Christoph and Martyn excelled putting the drum track together in the studio - the former obsessively swapping snares, changing mics and tuning the kit between practically every take, Martyn playing with impeccable technique and feel. Bang. Christoph was also particularly smitten with a little bit of rhythm guitar I’d left hanging around on the outro of the demo, for its groove and attitude (whatever, dude): that became the source of the dual rhythm guitar parts. Barry put down fabulous keys, mainly some Hammond that managed to both push up the rhythm and swirl into nooks and crannies in the groove. Apart from my disappointment at having my bassline voted out in favour of Scott playing it (“it’s a no-brainer” - bloody cheek!), all was going well.

So, an easy one, right? Well, not quite. Christoph was on a quest for the secret key to unlock the track, whether it was in a rhythm guitar phrase or a Hammond riff, so there was quite a bit of tidal flow. He requested a guitar solo NOW, so I did one, which I wasn’t allowed to redo, so hey, a one-take wonder. That’s what happens if you give someone a Producer hat - great responsibility is handed over, great trust is required. And we got there in the end, sassy Sids’ vocals an’ all.

The track sits in the album either as a funky outlier or as a sort of link back to Shriekback’s core DNA. Either way, it grooves like a mofo.

PORTOBELLO HEAD (Barry Andrews)

'I'm gonna have to dissect my own head'

Well yeah, I think we've all been there. Heads are good - Celtic heads, Riddley Walker (sorry but I insist) 'hedds on poles and ripe for telling' (also ‘The Head of Orpheus’) and, more geographically apposite - the head of Bran the Blessed who guards London against the oncoming of enemies - now, they say, buried under Pentonville ('pen' in welsh means ‘head’) Road. And, let's not resist the line of least resistance - the squishy hippy mind set of the pre-Julia Roberts inhabitants of Notting Hill - Portobello Head is a real condition, man..

A comic book thing perhaps - anyway, the point is our hero's sheer abjectness: cock block him, infect him, cuff him to the radiator - truly the dude is on his belly, rolling around on the leatherette in the fumes of burning rubber. What a fucking rotter.

The multi-synth/sampled, mad-as-a-balloon ending was my attempt to respond to Christoph playing us a Franz Ferdinand tune (forgot which) where the standard rocky instrumentation morphs into a technology-driven smeltdown.

In our version I like how a gazillion squirming plastic snakes burst out of the guts of the song and slither off into the night. WTF happened there?

Slowly at First Then All At Once (BA)

…was Hemingway’s reply to the question: ‘how did you go bankrupt?’ Then I heard it applied to the HBO show about Nazis taking over America (no, silly, it was a ‘what-if’ thought experiment set in the 40’s) and I thought that this template - a slow ramp up then a swift ascension, followed by a long decline culminating in a rapid plummet, is the pattern for a whole bunch of things.

I guess also I was thinking of the Pareto curve - the savage law (or maybe more of a guideline - a savage guideline) that obtains in the pitiless game of Monopoly and, indeed, Life - it explains why most of the vinyl in the world is used by Adele, for instance.

It struck me as interesting that there can be mathematically coherent laws which govern human behaviour just as they define the parameters of physics. I like maths, I think, because I really, really don’t understand them (qv. ’37’).

So it’s a very intelligible song for us, I think. Nice and clear. The music also is pretty trad: those straightforward chords with their hymn-like progression.

Its first encounter with the band had Mart going full-fat Power Ballad on its ass - massive drum sound wreathed in reverb and tubular bells - was it overegging the old pudding, I wondered? Christoph curated the present version, distressing further the already pretty lived-in loop the song was built on (from the Chase Bliss Mood pedal, since you ask, my new bff) and reducing the drums to Mart’s reined-in, best-behaviour brush/soft-beater combo.

The verses, rather like Nemesis, have a bullet point, issue-based organisation to them:

V1 is Love: falling/not falling in.. I question the metaphor. Isn’t it more that we suddenly notice it’s there and, heartbreakingly, when it’s not anymore? As in all these examples there’s usually a catalytic, propulsive event - the Reichstag Fire of Romance, if you will.

V2 is Nature - in particular the phenomenon of the Last Tree Standing - usually in November in the UK - one lonely, brave-looking fellow has somehow retained a lot of its leaves when all the others have succumbed to winter - clinging poignantly onto the summer as if to say: ‘nothing’s changed really, look - leaves! It’s still kinda August, right?’ Genetically talented or just aerodynamically lucky, he’s on borrowed time, that tree… Winter is, as they say, coming.

And suddenly, and with one last decisive storm, it’s here.. and all the trees look the same.

V3 - and here come the fascists - I pick a pair of representative tyrants: Ubu Roi - the fictional fat dude with the spiral on his stomach (merdrrrre was his catchphrase (Eng Trans: 'shitttrrr'). And Mu’ammar (Gaddafi).

A pair of right little charmers.

The point, I tried to make in as non-inflammatory way as possible (for after all it is just a pop song) is that - well, you know it by now, if you're ever going to - look after your democracies - they're not, by any means, a given and there are those who are (and how best to say this?) just cunts and we should really try and keep ‘em in check, before they get out of hand.

V4 - this time it's personal - our narrator foetally curled and thumbsucking in the terrible presence of these inexorable laws - contemplates the 'Ultimate Decline': these days very much along the Slowly at First model - you get old, then you get sick, then you go into hospital and you recover but not quite back to where you were before. Repeat for a few times until one day.... it's usually a Fall isn't it? - and then one condition which has tenaciously (albeit precariously) maintained - Being Alive - is instantaneously replaced with... you know - the Other One.

Good Disruption (CM)

This didn’t get its title for a while - it started off as the rather prosaic New Recording 16 - but I did want to try a couple of different things. The twangy, picky, surf-ish guitar tone isn’t one that I use a lot, and I haven’t really pulled out that whiny singing voice since, I dunno, Jam Science? Well, not as a lead vocal, anyway.

I don’t want to go into the lyrics too much here, but I suppose a note would be useful. I had noticed that ‘disruption’ had become a become almost a generic (and generally positive) term for ‘shaking things up’ in almost any context - business, politics, art - and ‘disruptor’ was being self-proclaimed as a title by those fancying themselves as being on the cutting edge of radical change; I’ve even seen it used in peoples’ LinkedIn profiles. However, it also seemed like a lot of real disruptors weren’t working for the general good, ‘disruption’ in these cases meaning ‘wilfully vandalising existing stable paradigms’ through self-interest, ignorance or hey, just for the hell of it. Yes, I’m talking about you, Donald Trump, amongst others.

Then I found the little parable about the ants in the jar which had sprouted on the internet. Essentiall, it goes:

‘If you put 100 black ants and 100 red ants in a jar, they will co-exist peacefully. However, if someone shakes the jar, they will fight to the death, the black ants thinking the red ants are the enemy and vice versa, when in fact the real enemy is whoever shook the jar.’

You can find this trotted out all over the place to illustrate different conflicts - Black/White, Male/Female, Right/Left etc.. It’s such a neat little picture that no-one seems to care whether it’s actually true or where it first originated. I think I first saw it on a website called The Good Republican, which no longer seems to exist (maybe unsurprisingly), but it’s been attributed to all sorts of people, notably David Attenborough (it definitely wasn’t him). I just found it interesting as an example of how things are spread and appropriated and how the dissemination process becomes a kind of disruption in its own right.

Anyway, back to the studio and, in this case, a relatively straightforward build on Martyn’s once again excellent drums. The guitar sound posed some issues for Christoph, however: he loved the sound on my demo version, which was built in Logic, recreating the pedalboard sound I’d created in the writing room, and he in turn recreated it (ish) in the studio for me to play and expand the parts. I think I liked the result, although the sound was harder and brighter, but Christoph elected to use the parts from the demo, favouring sound over performance, arguably. Somewhere in the mixing process we also effectively lost a synth part I’d put on; having now lived without it for a while, I think that was a mistake, as it leaves the chorus vocal somewhat exposed and unsupported. (You just get a taste of it right at the end, pretty much the last thing you hear.) It’s that Producer trust/responsibility thing again…

To make up for that, we get some fabulous keyboards - squiggly synth and groovy, atmospheric organ: Barry’s not a Manzarek fan at all, but he gets his Doors on here. And of course The Sids, gamely chanting along to the, erm, disrupted middle vocal section, straight-faced but flexible. An interesting tangent, then, but worth pursuing further…? We’ll see, I suppose…

EVERYTHING HAPPENS SO MUCH (BA)

'That might as well happen' says Ryan George the Youtube comic as his Hollywood script writer pitches plots at his (thinly disguised doppelganger) movie executive. Every far fetched and arbitrary thing that happens might as well (happen).

https://youtu.be/PrAT_ncXr7M

Reality, of course, does not flinch from arbitrariness or ridiculously impausible content. A commonplace comment over the last few years has come in these variations: 'if this was in a film you'd say it was too over the top/on the nose/ downright unbelievable.'

I mean check this out:

‘The conspiracy theorists behind Frazzledrip believe that Hillary Clinton and former Clinton aide Huma Abedin were filmed ripping off a child’s face and wearing it as a mask before drinking the child’s blood in a Satanic ritual sacrifice. Supposedly, the Hillary Clinton video was later found on the hard drive of Abedin’s former husband, Anthony Weiner, under the code name ‘Frazzledrip’.

So yeah. The wheels have come off on the Crazy Train, people. So, it’s no wonder that our poor narrator is driven to consult (in the bridge section) his spirit guide or an oracle to get a bit of perspective.

The whole tune was extrapolated from the little Mood pedal loop with which it begins - started off as a piano, as I recall. Really is paying for itself, that thing..

Different Story (CM)

This, the most ‘pop’ song on the album, started from Barry’s catchy little piano riff. It’s essentially a boy-meets-girl ditty, about how that’s a timeless story and yet different for everyone. What’s been different during the past couple of years, of course, is that boy couldn’t meet girl. That lack of personal contact has left story arcs hanging, and it’s become apparent that that narrative is not only a description of reality but somehow part of its fabric, so removing it has left a bigger hole than we perhaps would have expected. We have filled it in remotely, by Zoom and social media and by creating our own internal stories, but the lack of human face-to-face interaction has left a huge disconnect for some. In this song it’s the young: I can’t imagine what it would have been like to be so isolated when I was, what, 20-21 - there may not have been a Shriekback, for a start!.So the pop song is followed by a reflective passage about the ways we create and modify our stories and, through those, our realities, with a respectful nod to those we’ve loved and lost in these strange times.

Musically, the initial groove was developed into a loping, rattling thing that for a while clattered along so happily that it was the longest track on the record, until it was reeled in to an appropriate length for its pop status and is now the shortest track on the album. Still, there’s always a remix…

There was some sparring around the bassline - whenever Barry worked on the track he took out my bass guitar and used the keyboard bass; I did the opposite. Eventually we worked out the plot for a hybrid, switching between the two for different sections: a risky strategy, but it works. For the big chorus chord progression I decided not to do my usual Big Chord trick, but went for sharp chords cutting across instead. I sort of wish now that I’d done both: there’s a reason I always use that trick… oh well. The Sids are on point, of course - quite unusual choices, intriguingly dodging the obvious.

Now the story starts again…

1000 Different Books (CM)

This trippy thing emerged from improvisations using loops and atmospherics generated by the battlestar of new hardware that Barry auditioned, accumulated and harnessed during lockdown (quite obsessively, really, but someone’s gotta do it). From the start, it seemed to resist the structuring that we imposed on other tracks, going a different way every time we played it, so much so that we decided to let it be the only one that would continue to be developed through improvisation in the studio. If I may quote myself from a recent interview (indulgent, perhaps, but I think this nails it): “I’m usually fine with this idea, but in this case I sort of lost my nerve, mainly because it was too hard to develop a lyric and vocal over such a random piece… and, unlike the early days, we didn’t have unlimited time to follow ideas through. So it was structured, although there was more improvisation and layering than on some other tracks. At various points we had extensive piano sorties, a fair bit of feedback guitar, then it got reeled into what you hear. I really like the organic shifts in tone and rhythm, and how the drums work in a way you might not immediately think of as a Shriekback groove.”

1000 Different Books clocks in as the longest track on the record. I thought about shortening it, but again the organism resisted - I tried editing out the second verse (“rolling back the mind…”), the only lyric I considered potentially expendable, but a simple edit damaged the organic development of the track underneath: an actual remix would have been required, and we’d gone beyond the time and budget for that, so we have 5:19 of sonic evolution to live with forever. Nice.

The title, as you may already know by now, comes from a quotation from Andrei Tarkovsky’s Sculpting In Time - “A book read by a thousand different people is a thousand different books”, which seemed appropriate not only for the alternative realities of our fractured times but for the multiple interpretations that any Shriekback release inevitably attracts (me reading reviews: “oh, so that’s what I was on about”). In this case, it’s a reflection along the lines of ‘what have we done with all this time, why are we still here, what’s next?’, a coda of sorts to Space In The Blues: we cry into the future, but at least there is a future.

WILD WORLD (BA)

Wild World was a bit of a turn-up - right at the end written very quickly with no big struggles (see also: Exquisite Corpse, Bernadette, Hubris) - like it just wanted to burst out. So weird how that happens and yeah, a gift. From.... our boiling interiors, the Universe? She-Ra? Wotan?

We may never know..

The use of the vocoder - completely unplanned - was just from improvising with the Big Rig (the coral reef of quirky musical equipment accreting and mutating constantly in my living room) and the way it lets me sound prettier than I can can usually sound (v much as on 'Evaporation' from Care). It was the prosthetic I needed, clearly.

How it becomes alien and impersonal like Laurie Anderson's answering machine was not really intended - I worry that it's a screen to hide behind but I wasn't about to fuck around with it since it obviously - on one level anyway - 'worked'.

My son Finn's song 'One Piece at a Time' was an influence - that idea of a beneficent, forgiving world - and the Martin Amis notion (from 'The Information') that pretty much everywhere in the Universe would kill you in seconds if you went there but this place doesn't - that's a very elemental kind of love isn't it?

'God's World' by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) should also get a shout-out:

O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!

Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!

Thy mists, that roll and rise!

Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag

And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag

To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!

World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!

Long have I known a glory in it all,

But never knew I this;

Here such a passion is

As stretcheth me apart,—Lord, I do fear

Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year;

My soul is all but out of me,—let fall

No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.

(btw does everyone collect pebbles? I reckon they do...)

#1000 Books #shriekback #trackbytrack #christophskirl

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bts-weverse-trans · 4 years

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The Life of BTS Writes a Story Review of BE 2020.11.30

BTS released its new album, BE, on November 20 after RM announced the band’s plan to produce the record on BANGTANTV’s Log (ON) on April 17. The group was working on the album even as “Dynamite”, the single they dropped on August 21, was topping the Billboard Hot 100. This order of events is given a fresh new meaning when “Dynamite” closes BE as opposed to standing alone as a single. While the group was busy sending messages of hope by reminding us of the past where heading out happily after a cup of milk was possible and giving us a glimpse of the future that will eventually come, they were recording the emotional ride they have been on while being off stage via different tracks on BE. Such changes in emotions can be seen through different portrayals of Jung Kook’s room—the way it looks during the first verse of both “Dynamite” and “Life Goes On,” the title track of the new album. Jung Kook is captured looking chipper as he ties his shoes getting ready to go out and dances in his sunshine-filled room in the music video of “Dynamite”, but in the latter’s video, Jung Kook stares blankly out the window. BE tells the story of how Jung Kook and other members navigated their lives, which includes their time singing “Dynamite,” during the pandemic by stepping out of rooms that are distinctively less colorful than the scenes in the music video of “Dynamite”.

The seven tracks, not including “Dynamite”, embody BTS’ emotional shifts and draw what looks a lot like a V curve, with “Skit” separating each section of three songs. The album opens with “Life Goes On” where BTS asks, “there’s no end in sight / is there a way out?” to live through a reality devoid of hope and arrives at “Stay” where the group expresses their intense longing for a reunion with the fans by saying, “Thinking of you now / No matter where you are / That’s not important.” And during this journey, BTS responds to the physical limitations imposed on their daily lives by saying “They took away this whole year” while also trying to put a positive spin on it by singing, “Thoughts can change by thinking,” in “Fly to My Room”. What follows is “Blue & Grey”, where they reveal inner feelings of depression and anxiety with the line, “Still don’t know this sharp blue / Hope it’s not covered over I’ll find the exit.” “Skit” then offers a shift in direction, and the next song, “Telepathy” reveals their eagerness to meet people again, highlighted by the lyrics, “Every day’s the same and I’m happiest when I meet you.” BTS also takes a moment to let out their complex thoughts on work to reach “Stay” ultimately. It is only at the end of this process that the optimism in “Dynamite”, which feels like a conviction of hope in a time of pandemic, appears in full.

“Life Goes On” allows those who don’t know whether they should hold on to hope or give up on hope to feel what it is like to go with the flow when you don’t know what to feel. Those who want to find a reason to be positive in life affected by the pandemic can find solace in “Fly to My Room.” But it is when you listen to the album as a whole that you can get healing from the pain the pandemic has inflicted on us. The soothing ambiance offered by “Life Goes on” transitions into heavy, slow, and dark tunes in “Blue & Grey,” which is followed by faster rhythm and airy sounds in “Telepathy” and “Stay.” Then the album finally culminates in “Dynamite” where the bright sunshine lifts you up. The record in its entirety offers the chance to experience at least indirectly the emotional ride taken by global superstars BTS themselves. “Dis-ease” is the classic example of the storytelling style BTS chose for the album; the moment they let out their angst and fully devote themselves to work is when the song reaches its climax. When BTS sings, “Get up one more time / It’s morning again we gotta go out / Let’s go one more night,” towards the end of the song, the arrangement drives up the song’s tension for the peak moment, “Everyday I console myself / We’re all the same people ain’t so special / Ay man keep one, two step keep calm and let’s heal up” which tops the song off like fireworks. This ironic way of storytelling mirrors BTS’ life at the moment. There are a lot of thoughts about work and life on their mind, but they try their best to work through them. And just as they do this, their energy transforms into a musical blast.

With “On,” the single track on their previous album “Map of the Soul : 7,” BTS says “Where my pain lies / Let me take a breath.” The album covers how BTS has traveled from the past to where they stand now, and “ON” tells a story of the members having to live with the “shadow” that comes with enormous fame as discussed in “Interlude : Shadow” on the very same album. With BE, BTS finally tells the story of their lives that are still unfolding. It’s not clear whether their questions about work asked in “Dis-ease” now found answers. It’s not known how long this will last, just like no one knows when this pandemic will finally run its course. We have no way of knowing if they are still in the mood expressed in “Blue & Grey” or they’re feeling the positivity of “Fly to My Room.” One thing that is clear is that while they battle work as one would with “Dis-ease,” they still wrote songs like “Telepathy” and “Stay” to send their messages to the fans, and kept busy getting ready to perform “Dynamite” on numerous stages. BE is the album that ties together all of their real-life events, both on and off stage, as one narrative. They started as an idol group and now their lives are intertwined inseparable from their music, their very existence becoming the stories they tell.

The way BE sets up different songs is directly linked to the musical changes BTS has undergone, and thus, are evident in the album. As the members’ stories take center stage, the arrangement focuses on getting their lines and melodies across and adjusts itself flexibly to each member’s part without following a certain trend or form. The arrangement filled with sounds of guitars, synthesizers, bass, drums, and pianos or sounds similar to real instruments is fitting to songs like “Fly to My Room” and “Blue & Grey”, in which auditory shifts accompany each member’s part. The smaller number of sounds used in

compared to previous albums further emphasizes vocals, such as by accentuating the sound of Jung Kook inhaling in the beginning of “Life Goes On.” If J-Hope’s part in “Fly to My Room” reminds you of a gospel song, it’s not just because the synthesizer highlighted the gospel-like vibes but also because j-Hope’s voice that faithfully delivers his emotions as if giving witness to an epiphany with the line, “Thoughts can change by thinking.” Just like the auditory shift that takes place with SUGA’s rap part in “Blue & Grey” where the drums begin to layer, the arrangement of BE evolves constantly in line with each member’s part.

BE also takes on new challenges in format.. The chorus in “Blue & Grey” has such long melodies that it has no clear ending, and it fades out for the post-chorus that triggers an image of a lonely winter night with gloomy vocals. The post-chorus might seem like an abrupt shift but many devices contribute to giving this song the bleak wintery night vibe: RM’s somewhat distant rapping delivered through left and right on stereo that echoes through the room as well as the vocal recording that applied different echoes depending on lyrics and the solemn sounding cello. “Life Goes On” progresses in a similar fashion, starting with percussions ringing right next to your ears that create multi-layered sounds and taking you to an imagined space by blending the chorus and synthesizer. The story they tell resembles confessions about emotional states or specific circumstances, and the melodies unfold and rap flows in new ways as the story progresses While there are a lot of shifts, there is consistency in that sounds build the same sense of space. “Stay,” while being an EDM piece, ends on a rather blue note after phasing out beats that earlier set the stage for the dancefloor stomper. It makes sense given that the song is Jung Kook’s imagination of performing in front of the fans; Festivities in the song are interrupted by the fading out of vocals and overall sound layers. “Telepathy” offers a catchy hook in a song filled with bouncy spirit, just like “Dynamite” does. But the difference lies in that “Dynamite” brings out the explosive energy through repetition of melodies and variation of rhythms and that “Telepathy” phases itself out by reducing the number of sounds. “Fly to My Room” is about coming to terms with life in the pandemic, but the acknowledgment doesn’t necessarily make such a life enjoyable. Adding vibrant melodies isn’t a solution to challenges that accompany work, which are conveyed in “Dis-ease.” Such are the mixed feelings we experience in life—in which we have no control over a break or our approach—that are clearly expressed in the album by highlighting each member’s part and various shifts. Despite the numerous musical turns, the album has been produced in a way that ensures its consistency throughout the entire work; “Life Goes On” leaves you with the chorus where the seamless melodic flow seems like it’ll just keep on going.

In “Skit”, BTS is talking about how they’re practicing their debut song for performance eveon on the day after “Dynamite” became No.1 on the Billboard Hot 100. After they topped the chart with “Dynamite”, they came back with an album filled with songs seemingly the polar opposites of their hit single. Life seems to be on a loop but changes suddenly appear, and previous routines end up different because of this newness. BE is an acceptance of such peculiarity of life rather than an answer to it. BTS began with K-pop and now have become superstars of pop, and they’ve harnessed the power of their own story in the album by choosing neither path. The team that began its journey with “No More Dream” and have traveled to “Dynamite” leaves an open ending as to where they will head next. Still, the next chapter will be shared regardless of what it shapes up to be. That is why they can leave us wondering what comes after BE.

Trans © Weverse

#bangtan #weverse #201130 #2020 #weverse magazine #be album

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scaredyships · 4 years

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Renegades (Din Djarin x gn!Reader) | pt. I

y’know what, it probably makes more sense to crosspost the entire chapters rather than just post links. :v So here we go!

summary: You're used to your job as an infochant sponsored by the Bounty Hunters' Guild bringing you the occasional violent incident. But when a certain Mandalorian you've helped out before comes to you for help and accidentally brings his very dangerous problems along with him, it's all you can do to let yourself get dragged into it.

word count: 4.3k

author’s notes: If other people are allowed to write reader-inserts where the reader character has specific qualities about them then I’m allowed to as well. :v This is going to be a big multi-part reader-insert fic following the show, starting almost immediately after Mando escapes with the Child from the Guild. With how much I’m churning out per part, it’s going to be a long fic. Slow burn, mutual pining, the works - however, no smut. No allusions to it either. I’m ace and this is my own personal indulgent work where Mando is also asexual to some degree, as is Reader.

Reader is very mildly Force-sensitive, but doesn’t know it. The sensitivity manifests in them being able to sense the presence of people, impending danger, and being a little luckier than usual when it comes to anticipating oncoming attacks. They can also vaguely pick up on others that are Force-sensitive, but it comes off as a weird sense of familiarity. Grogu can tell what's going on, but there's no way for that to be communicated.

Part 1 (you are here) // ao3 link

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It wasn’t every day that you’d get a Guild member coming through your doors. Granted, you’d get all sorts of customers as an informant, but Guild members tended to be the proud sort that would rather start their hunts from scratch and not bother trying to get help from anyone. Even if that help was in the form of extensive galactic maps and planetary inhabitants that held more detail than most databases - courtesy some archives from a long-established library somewhere on Coruscant - and would come in handy once they determined what direction they were going.

It was even less often that a Guild member would try to sneak in and take you by surprise, trying to keep the knowledge that they’d even been there hidden from anyone that may be watching. Or to try and intimidate information out of you for the fee of letting you live, if they were new to the bounty-hunting field and were preoccupied with maintaining the reputation of a mercenary. Those types annoyed you to no end.

Today seemed to be one of those days.

Without fail, you always got a strange niggling in the back of your mind when someone was around that shouldn’t be. You never could explain why it was that you could do that, but it came in handy and in turn took the visitors by surprise that you knew they were there. You liked to think that’s part of why you were able to maintain your reputation within the Guild as a preferred informant.

The strange sensation was there. But it was… different somehow. You stood from your desk and brought a hand to hover near your temple, focusing on it. No, this was stronger. Not just in the way that you felt when there was more than one person, either. It was stronger, and despite being so foreign, it had an almost familiar sense to it. You furrowed your brow, eyes darting aimlessly as you tried to process it.

You stepped out from behind your desk, the work you’d been doing double-checking and updating your own archives forgotten as you cautiously reached for a hold-out blaster you kept within hand’s reach. You could never be too careful with potential clientele.

There really weren’t many places in your “office building” to go from where you were. A hallway with a small set of stairs that led to your living space, and the front door. There was a back door to the living area and a few windows that would every so often have to have their grating replaced on, and if someone was feeling especially sneaky there was an air vent that dropped into the center of the hallway.

You turned your eyes towards the ceiling, where just above was the modest kitchen area. Whoever was setting off your stranger senses, was there, even though they weren’t making noise. You sighed quietly to yourself and padded your way towards the stairs and the doorframe that led to the area, blaster ready in your hand.

Rounding the corner slowly, face blank, you glanced up and watched for any shadows or other movement on the walls ahead of you. Still no sound - though you swear there was an almost sub-audial humming that wasn’t there before, the kind you’d expect from idle machinery. You hadn’t left anything on, you knew that much.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of some meathead bringing some convoluted contraption to interrogate you with. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Might as well get this over with.

“Hey, I know someone’s up there. Your sneaking isn’t going to work on me. State your business.”

You stepped up the stairs, blaster slightly raised, not trying to be silent anymore.

You barely made it to the top step when a pair of hands grabbed you, one slamming over your mouth and the other wrenching your arm just enough to make you drop your weapon, and you were bodily lifted and pinned against the wall just to the side of where you’d been entering the room. You pushed back instinctively, trying to wrench your arm free and thinking about how effective it would be to try and bite the glove-clad hand over your mouth—

“Y/N.”

The modulated hiss of your name burst through the fight-or-flight haze that had taken over, and with a jolt you registered the Beskar helmet in front of you. All your movements stopped as you stared, dumbfounded. There was no forgetting that “face”, no matter how long it had been since you last saw it.

To be truthful, even though you’d only met him a few times before, this Mandalorian was by far the most bearable of the Guild that came to you for information. To-the-point with what he needed, no awkward attempts at small-talk, and despite how blunt he was, surprisingly polite. It made those few encounters memorable and had you wishing for more in the future over other clients. Of course fate would have it be like this.

In all honesty, the physical closeness of the whole thing was throwing you for a loop and your mind was choosing now of all times to remind you of how touch-deprived you were, and bringing back to the surface those old vaguely fond feelings for this man that occasionally crossed your path. But you were still lucid enough not to let that be at the forefront of your mind.

You quirked your eyebrow at him as he carefully released your arm, motioning for you to stay quiet. You were just barely able to nod your head enough to indicate you understood. He slowly removed his hand from your face, moving as if he went too fast you’d spook like a trapped animal and lash out.

Something was very off if Mando of all people was sneaking around your place and trying to keep you quiet. He was the last person to care about what the rest of the Guild thought about what they saw him doing, he just cared about getting jobs done and doing so as efficiently as possible. You’d heard enough about his reputation to know that much.

This predicament all but confirmed the talk you’d heard around town that Mando had gone and broken some big rules, something about going back on a bounty after turning it in, and now had a price of his own on his head.

You swept your hands out to the sides in your most “what the hell” motion you could muster. You didn’t miss the very slight sag in Mando’s posture, like he had quietly sighed.

And that’s when you noticed it.

You stared at the egg-shaped pod floating in the middle of the room. The source of the humming you’d heard earlier, no doubt. What was he carting around that was so valuable he had to take it with him instead of leaving it on his ship?

The quiet noise that came from it made you start. It almost sounded like… something alive was inside.

You gave Mando a sidelong stare. The Beskar warrior tilted his head in your direction, just enough to indicate he was looking back at you.

“Mando… what did you do.”

You watched with baited breath as he approached the pod, standing close by its side as he keyed in something on his wrist panel to open it. You knew he was honorable, but some morbid part of your mind expected something viscerally upsetting to greet you.

What was actually inside, took you more by surprise than anything you could have imagined.

Sitting up amongst a pile of blankets and peering at you with curious dark eyes and perked oversized ears, was a baby unlike any you’d ever seen. You were pretty well-versed on the galaxy’s species, but this one escaped you entirely. And somehow, you still felt some kind of familiarity towards it. This was what was causing that other strange sensation earlier.

You blinked owlishly at it. It blinked back.

“...he’s just a kid.”

It was a low murmur, one you barely caught, but it struck you with the force of a thunderclap. The last two minutes alone had completely upturned any previous conceptions you may have had about the bounty hunter and what kind of person he was.

You did not understand why he was trusting you with this. At all. Yet here you were, and there he was.

You didn’t realize you’d been slowly moving towards the pod until you were arm’s length from the child and it chirped at you, reaching up with a curious hand in your direction, his eyes bright and watching you expectantly. Your hand drifted upwards and you cautiously let the little one grasp your finger, transfixed.

A familiar voice brought you back to reality.

“I need options for lying low, somewhere off the grid. You’re currently my best option for getting them.”

You turned your head to look at the Mandalorian. It was a simple enough request, but the circumstances being what they were, he was clearly pressed for time and needed to be as discreet as possible with his actions.

Glancing back at the child and carefully removing your hand from its grasp, you didn’t miss the way he seemed somewhat disappointed to no longer be the center of your attention. Sparing a glance at Mando, you motioned for him to follow you back to the office room, stopping momentarily to retrieve your blaster from the ground. He’d been there enough to know that there were no windows to be spied upon through in the lower area. With a quick tap to his wrist panel, he trudged carefully after you, the child’s pod drifting along close behind.

“How extensive are you hoping for?”

“As much as you can manage, as quickly as you can manage.”

You casually toggled on the earpiece you were never without - com link, translation device, and a handy little neural connection that let you activate and sift through your databanks hands-free. It was expensive, but very worth the investment. As soon as you entered the room, numerous holoscreens came to life around you and began pulling up planets based on various criteria - remoteness, levels of inhabitants, general hostility levels, neutrality with the New Republic, to name a few. Your eyes flitted between screens, highlighting the more promising results and using a slight swiping motion of your hand to dismiss the less promising ones.

“I’ve got a handful you can look at, if they’re good I can download more of the information about the actual planetary ongoings for you onto a data stick.”

You glance towards the bounty hunter when you see him nod his head, but notice he’s not paying as much attention to the actual selections as you anticipated. He seemed... on edge. More so than he did when you found yourself trying to fight him after he snuck into your home. The child, meanwhile, paid no attention at all to the armored man and was mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of screens and their data streams, ears swiveling and gaze darting about, the colorful reflections dancing across the black of his eyes.

You weren’t one to fawn over kids, but you had to admit, this one could be pretty cute.

On your way to pull a blank data stick from the storage space in your desk, you froze. All the hairs on your body stood on end and something at the base of the skull felt like it was writhing, yelling at you to get out, get far away, now.

“What’s wrong.”

You rounded on the Mandalorian faster than you’d done anything in your life, data stick falling from your grip and clattering to the ground so you could instead pull out your blaster for the second time that day. This actually seemed to startle him as he backed up a step. The screens around you shut down, plunging the room into darkness now that the only light source were the small lights on some of the machinery and the dim lamp on the desk. The child whimpered, shrinking down into the safety of his pod.

“We need to leave. Right now. No time. Someone’s coming and it’s not gonna be good.”

That was all he needed to hear. With a quick look at the child, he closed the pod and unholstered his own blaster, stance wary but leaving nothing to the imagination about how often he must’ve found himself in similar situations before this and come out the victor. If you weren’t so on edge and consumed with the need to get out, you might have been able to admire the sight before you of the broad-shouldered, Beskar-clad warrior.

Another time.

Noises of someone trying to force entry echoed from the upstairs area before you even made it a step past the doorway to the office. The front door was closer, and while it seemed counterintuitive to go there versus the back door, something told you you’d have more luck that way.

You snatched your outerwear and pouched belts from their hanging hook in the hall, knowing you’d have to be lying low yourself for at least a few days before you could consider coming back home. You were an infochant, you knew of all the possible places in the immediate area that would be good for that.

There was hardly any time to react when the front door was forced open, and an unruly-looking individual aimed a blaster down the hall and began firing. How you managed to twist to the side and avoid getting hit, you’ll never know. You’ll also never know how you managed to shoot off your stun blaster at the same time Mando fired his, so the man was not just stunned into unconsciousness but hit squarely in the stomach by the blaster fire. He fell to the ground with no sound other than the thunk of his weight against the floor. You blinked in slight shock at it, turning briefly to look at the equally-taken-by-surprise bounty hunter.

Hey, you’ll take it.

He nodded briskly and brushed past you to go out the door first, and he was barely through the frame before he was effortlessly dodging and striking out at two more assailants. You almost felt sorry for them as he knocked them to the ground, the Beskar armor rendering their attempts to strike back useless, and used some well-placed blaster shots to ensure they wouldn’t get back up.

Again, there was no time for you to properly be in awe. The intruders in the upper area were making their way towards where you were, and you had to keep moving. As soon as he signaled it was safe you dashed outside, slinging your belt over your shoulder and making sure the pod with the child inside was unmarked. You didn’t doubt Mando’s ability, but you felt like now that you were in this mess, if anything did happen, it would be on you.

And you just saw what he was capable of doing to anyone on his bad side.

None of you stopped until you were several buildings away, but within view of your place. You watched from your hiding place as at least three people moved from the two different entrances, some kicking at the corpses of their accomplices and motioning to the ones going back inside, their words too distant to be made out. You could see some items haphazardly being tossed through the door, mostly your equipment. Your personal databanks were heavily encrypted and couldn’t be accessed without your genetic signature, so they’d find they were useless sooner or later. At least you had backups in storage, so it wasn’t a total loss.

They had possibly realized this, as they left the equipment, and after what looked like a brief regrouping, the vandals parted to scour the streets for any sign of where you had went,

“I think I may have to follow you on your way out of the city. I can hole up somewhere until things calm down-“

The explosion brought your thoughts to a grinding halt.

Fire, horrifically beautiful, burst through what was once your front door and upper windows as if they were made of foam and not the reinforced durasteel that all buildings in the area were required to have. Everything was simultaneously in slow motion but happening far too fast for you to truly register anything. It didn’t even feel like you were in your body anymore, it felt like you were looking through a pair of scopes from another planet. You could only stare dumbly at the smoke laced with embers as it billowed into the sky above.

“Hey, we need to move.”

A brief clap on your shoulder shocked you free of the spell. You glanced at the gloved hand, and up at its owner. There was no time to try and decipher any further meaning in Mando’s stance, if there was any sympathy expressed towards you in the hand that rested shortly on your shoulder. He motioned quickly with his head to follow him, and briskly moved to retreat from the area. With a small sigh, you hurried after him.

The three of you only stopped once you’d gone past the outskirts of the city, taking cover in an outcropping of rocks.

You didn’t need to tap into any chatter frequencies to know your name was now amongst those that you’d help bounty hunters track down.

Well… used to. That avenue was as burnt up as your home was now.

You scrubbed a hand over your face, eyes closed, now that you had a second to stop.

“If you need a ride, I can help.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked over your fingers at the man that just turned your life upside down. You could tell he was trying to be nonchalant about it, stance casual and visor pointed steadily in your direction, but you could feel a sense of guilt through the way he couldn’t stop shifting on his feet every so often and the way he couldn’t figure out where to settle his fingers on his belt. Must’ve been unusual for him to find himself in this kind of predicament.

“...sure. I don’t really have any other options right now.”

It was quiet on the Razor Crest. The Mandalorian sat at the helm, charting a route through hyperspace. The Child had been let out of his pod and was freely wandering the cramped cockpit, but you couldn’t be bothered to even idly watch what he may have been doing. All you could do was stare blankly at the space ahead of you.

It was gone. All of it.

Your archives you had meticulously compiled over the years. Your collection of plants from various systems that made living on the dusty rock you called home more bearable. Personal things you had held onto since your childhood, things that had been passed on to you from generations past. All that was left was what you’d managed to grab on your way out the door, thinking you’d have a chance to come back and resume life there in maybe a day or two.

And you were a fugitive now, too, for aiding Mando and fleeing rather than let yourself be captured and punished. You weren’t even able to get any of the information Mando had come to you for. You reached up and ran your fingers over your earpiece, the only thing left of your once-extensive setup. At least it was still useful.

Your brooding was interrupted by a small tug on your pant leg. Looking down, you met a pair of big, dark eyes peering up over your knees.

“Uh...hi?”

The Child cooed, tiny clawed hands gripping into the fabric, tilting his head like he expected something from you.

Kids were weird.

You hesitantly reached out, awkwardly patting his head and thinking to yourself how the combination of the grooves in his head and his thin, downy hair felt strange. His eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile. You glanced up at where Mando was sitting, to see that he had turned to watch you and the kid. You couldn’t see his eyes but his gaze still burned into you nonetheless.

You quickly turned back to the Child, letting him grab your hand and begin inspecting it thoroughly like it was an interesting toy.

This seemed like as good an opportunity as any to ask a question that had been bothering you.

“So, uh, Mando… why didn’t you try to hide the kid back at my place? You had no way to know I wouldn’t tell someone once you left.”

There really wasn’t any reason for him to trust you like that that you could come up with. The odd consult for planetary guides wasn’t nearly enough interaction for either of you to really say that you knew the other, beyond impressions. You sold information, you had no loyalty to one client over another, and knowing Mando had the kid with him at that very moment could have ended with you possibly… doing something rash, if you really wanted to. You wouldn’t. But he had no way of knowing that. Right?

There was a quiet modulated sigh from the bounty hunter. You changed looking in his direction again, and let out a small breath you’d been holding when you saw he wasn’t watching you anymore. Rather, he was watching the kid playing with your hand.

“...you’re trustworthy.”

And before you could try and get him to elaborate on what he meant, he turned back to the controls.

That wasn’t something you were expecting to hear.

You looked back at the Child, who had moved past your hand and was now pulling at the shiny silver latch tucked into your wrist piece that had your keycard attached to it. All that was left of your old residence. You pulled it out and let him take it, watching him pick at the etched grooves and writing with his claws.

You felt something akin to pain and grim amusement that something that used to be so important in your life, was now relegated to a baby toy. He could keep it, you didn’t need it anymore where you were headed.

...wait, where were you going?

“Mando, what system are we headed towards?”

“Don’t know yet. I’m getting as far as we can go first.”

Oh, good. You closed your eyes to suppress an eyeroll.

“Well, when we have some idea, let me know so I can figure out just what degree of screwed I am for starting over at everything.”

Silence from the pilot. It wasn’t his fault that he was followed, not his fault that the assailants had decided to ransack and then destroy your abode and livelihood. But you could still tell he carried the guilt as if it were. You hadn’t meant to sound like you blamed him, but your irritated tone of voice at the situation at hand could certainly be interpreted that way.

“Sorry, Mando, I just… don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

You sighed softly, absent-mindedly messing with your hands. The Child watched you, his ears drooping at your defeated tone.

“I could use an extra set of eyes around, with watching out for the kid.”

He was facing you again, this time turned in the pilot’s chair with an arm partly draped over the armrest. He was trying to look nonchalant again. The way he peered over his shoulder made you want to hide away, and you prayed he didn’t notice the flustered flush trying to creep its way onto your face.

The Child made a noise of agreement to Mando’s suggestion, looking enthusiastically from the armored man back to you, eyes bright and ears angled high in anticipation of you answering. Why this kid seemed to be so interested in you, you had no idea. You’d only just met him, why was he so excited? The only thing you could think of was that strange, familiar vibe he gave you, maybe it was a two-way thing?

Mando suggesting you stay around to help with the kid at all took you by surprise as well. You slowly turned your head to stare at him head-on. He didn’t exactly state he wanted a babysitter, but with your understanding of his profession you would probably be saddled with a lot of doing just that. You knew if anyone decided to try and come after you for information, if you were traveling with the Mandalorian you’d be safer than anywhere you might settle down. But at the same time, a nomadic lifestyle such as his relying on hunting down troublesome quarry was equally dangerous. But it wouldn’t just be you by your lonesome, and, hell, it could make for some interesting experiences.

“Are you being serious?”

All he had to do was incline his head. You looked back down at the kid, who seemed to be holding his breath waiting for an answer.

“...I don’t know the first thing about kids. But I’ll help out where I can, with him or anywhere else.”

The Child squealed, clutching the keycard he was still holding close. That earned a small chuckle from you.

You looked back up at the Mandalorian watching you both, not needing to see his face under his helmet to know he was also being affected by the small green child’s charm. He finally turned away, back to his controls, looking through the ship’s navigation to plot the next leg of whatever journey you were on.

This was going to be one hell of a ride.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #mando #din djarin #if you want to get technical reader is an oc but i'm keeping it hopefully vague enough to just be a reader insert #my specific interest to be tailored to include - gender neutral and ace reader/aspec mando/absolutely no smut #people are allowed to like what they like but some of the popular things i've seen are not my thing #still posting to my sideblog bc I'm shy

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phiilomen-a · 3 years

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⧼ milena tscharntke, demi-girl, she/they / mirrorball by taylor swift + there, stashed behind the coats in her closet , the aftermath of a broken home : a comet 920 broomstick, surname inscribed in its handle , a reminder of a mother whose loyalty was stronger than love ; a tarnished prefect’s badge , memories of a time they no longer wish to hark back to ; a letter ( a goodbye ) , edges worried and pages tear-stained ⧽ ━━ hey, isn’t that PHILOMENA PADGETT? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the TWENTY-EIGHT year old [ half blood ] WIX is a [ SLYTHERIN ] alumnus who has gone on to be an AUROR. i’ve heard they can be quite CONSCIENTIOUS & HARD-WORKING, but i don’t know… they came off very STUBBORN & RETICENT in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?

doc / spotify / pinterest / wanted connections .

okay hello so ! admittedly i don't have anything set in stone aside from a few headcanons but i guess just a quick little heads up : philomena's kind-of, sort-of based on a somewhat canon character in the hp verse, specifically in the wizards unite game, though really little is known about her, and i've technically tweaked a lot about her characterization that, yeah, she's mine now ♡ so anyways, here's philomena!

both of her parents were outspoken supporters of you-know-who and his MAGIC IS MIGHT campaign, which eventually led to her mother's arrest after the war after involving herself in the conflict.

LAVINIA CRABBE-PADGETT, older sister to a death eater and quite possibly even more supportive of the dark lord than he is. she was never a death eater like he was - too much work for a woman with four children to raise - but she did end up housing some low-level death eaters at the end of the second war, and in the conflict that ensued once the ministry discovered this, she fatally injured two aurors, one of which would end up dying in st, mungo's. this in turn led to her arrest and incarceration in azkaban.

ARLINGTON PADGETT IV. was much less vocal than his wife, but supported the cause nonetheless, though nobody knew if it was because he actually believed the ideals that he-who-must-not-be-named had put forth, or because it was to save face— he was the son of a wealthy pureblood and her muggleborn lover, after all. he had intended to lie low after the death eaters lost the second war, only evading prison time due to his wife's actions because of this. still, the padgetts never quite recovered from what happened after the war, and this in turn affected the lives of all their children.

all the padgetts were sorted into slytherin, save for arlington padgett v., who was sorted into ravenclaw, which didn't cause as much of an uproar in the family— better that than gryffindor, as they would say.

fia was somewhat close to both their parents in different ways, especially as they grew up mostly on their own, with their siblings being much older than they were.

with their mother, fia talked quidditch. they were never much of a player, but nel often found herself studying and analyzing quidditch plays with their mother. it was a pastime for them— lavinia herself almost being a professional quidditch player, except as a member of the sacred 28, she was expected to marry well, so she did. her older daughters concerned themselves with vanity, her son not feigning much interest in the sport itself, so she turned to nel when it came to matters on quidditch. it was more of a pastime than a full-fledged hobby, though their mother often brought them to games, and they had an entire shelf in their room dedicated to quidditch memorabilia, specifically the pride of portree.

with their father, philomena talked business. they knew they were never going to inherit the family business, that would go to arlington jr., but their father kept them in the loop enough to know what goes on in a business and some tips and tricks in running one. of course, their father still kept to his traditional ideals and expected philomena to marry well.

it seemed as though philomena was the crutch that both their parents leaned on, especially as their siblings started going to hogwarts a few years after the end of the first war. basically, they kind of just dumped everything onto them, since they were often the only child left at home while their siblings were at hogwarts. sure, they spent more time with their parents, but both lavinia and arlington sr. were kind of also not the best.

nel was ambitious, much like their fellow slytherins. they were also described as stubborn and hard-working, but secretive as well.

philomena's relationship with their siblings is . . . not so good. they are regarded as the favorite by the older three, and they see their older siblings as vain and lazy. they treat each other with disdain, and family dinners are awkward as hell rip </3

as the youngest of four, they knew there wasn't much inheritance left for them, and fia knew there were only two ways out: marry well or work hard enough to earn a job that doesn't need you to do so.

okay family stuff done, here’s some more hcs

graduated class of '11, was pretty much a good student at school, even making prefect in their fifth year.

okay so here's a quick rundown of fia's life post-hogwarts : right after graduating, philomena is hired to work a pretty lofty position at the department of magical law enforcement ( at least for recent grads )

said job may or may not be because their parents pulled some strings around ( hello nepotism baby ❤️👄❤️ ) and it may just be a pretty standard desk job, but it's something

and, okay, maybe the job was kind of just to appease her parents; they never wanted her to even work in the first place, preferring instead to have a strategic marriage arranged for her straight out of graduation. but philomena had insisted, so the desk job was kind of an in-between for them.

i think that she had wanted to become an auror long before graduation, though, and she saw her desk job as a way in. she had moved out of her childhood home and into a flat that she was ( partially ) paying for herself, she could do anything.

i think it would be nice to point out that despite the somewhat obvious favoritism that philomena never really liked their family, or their childhood. it was frought with too many rules, too many nos, too many and what would the other purebloods think, philomena? — aside from that, they were also kind of the crutch their parents leaned on, and fia really was just like i can't keep doing this for the rest of my life why do i have to play mediator between the two of them and just ! jumped at the first opportunity to leave !

and philomena was doing well post-hogwarts. they got a flat, started going to family dinners less and less, and was even working on enlisting in the next round of trainee auror recruitment— like i said, philomena in the early years post-hogwarts felt like they could do anything.

then the war happened and, well, her mother went and did that and suddenly all eyes at the office were on her when they originally weren't because she was just the plain kid who got coffee for everyone and arranged paperwork and nobody noticed her until now

god okay even i'm realizing that this is too long so here's a quick rundown of post-war fia : they lie low for a while, and i think their ambition drives them enough to put work ahead of their family and kind of just ... started to not associate with their mother's side of the family. eventually, a lot later than they had anticipated, they made auror (yay!) and yeah !! god i'll elaborate on this more but tl;dr: has a pretty shady past but is stubborn enough to not let that get in the way of their ambitions, and becomes an auror !

#nox.intro #death mention tw #long post warning !#i don't have much except for a few headcanons #*writes another long intro*#so sorry besties i cannot control my brain when it goes zoom #anyways this is so messy i'm so sorryfdhgjkd

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