#who looks like he stepped right out of Sonic's era with no changes to him in body and only in mind

[true-blue-sonic]

The reason I’m wondering about Shadow’s ageing over 200 years time is because I am rotating the idea of a Silver fangame inside my mind like a microwave, and even though I will probably never possess the skills or time needed to make such a thing a reality I’m writing all my ideas down all the same. It would be neat for Silver to come across Shadow and maybe also Omega in the future, I think!

[likeadevils]

hey! for your post about sun moon and rising but with taylor albums, can you list out the characteristics of each album? i'm having a hard time associating them and it'd make it a lot easier, if you could do that :)

oh totally! Its really all about your personal association, so i’ll give vibes for the era and the album. a good rule of thumb is to read the prologue if you want the tone for the era quickly. honestly, there’s no set system, go wild

taylor swift (2006) “debut”

era: blue and teal and brown. cowboy boots and sundresses, wild curly hair, trucks and mud and wildflowers. very 2006, very high school, very country

album: swings between pining from a distance and wanting to destroy a boys whole ass life and feeling like you have no friends and no one understands you in the whole world. like I said, very high school, but also full of whole ass bangers

fearless (2008)

era: yellow and white. 24/7 prom. she’s got the fairy tale aesthetics set in high school, she’s got calling your ex boyfriend out on national television, she's got so many headbands. god to be 8 years old when the joe jonas/taylor swift drama was going down

album: again, fairy tale set in high school. lots of crushes, lots of realizing men aren’t shit. it’s about the pull between childhood ideals and real life tearing them down, and deciding how much you should cling to your dreams and how much you have to let them go. it’s also a pull between knowing that these little moments are kinda ridiculous but also taking everything so goddamn seriously

speak now (2010)

era: purple purple purple. she’s starting to grow up! her look has evolved out of sundresses and prom dresses and into a more preppy style. she’s moved out of fantasy and into this like. circus aesthetic? 30s movie type thing? watch the mean music video, idk how to explain it. her hair is still curly and but under control, and she’s solidly Famous at this point. the idea that she can’t sing is Big, and the man-eater stereotype is starting to get popular 

album: she’s starting to grow out of country. she’s experimenting with rock, but her pop sound is starting to take off. it’s all about Dramatics: she’s experienced her first heartbreak, broke someone else’s heart, and was in an emotionally abusive relationship all within two years. she’s moved out of her parents house and is both infantilized and forced to grow up to fast by the media.

red (2012)

era: its 2012 hipster style. her hair is Straight and she’s wearing vintage dresses everywhere, and she’s posting sketches of red lips and quotes from fitzgerald about heartbreak and finding yourself on instagram. she is dating and breaking up with harry styles Very Publically, and its the last major relationship she’ll have for two more years. the idea that she dates to much is everywhere, and she’s being slut shamed to an insane degree, while also being dismissed as a goody-two-shoes

album: it’s designed so each song has the opposite emotions of the song before it. it’s dramatic and it’s heart wrenching and it portrays these relationships that were toxic and messy and captivating. has the last vestiges of country, some more rock, and the first pure Pop songs, all nestled against each other to give you the epic highs and lows of being 22

1989 (2014)

era: its the height of her stardom, and she’s more beloved then she’s ever been and (probably) will ever be again. she’s cut her hair and moved to New York, she’s wearing high waisted stuff and taking polaroids, and she’s been single for two years and it’s has given her the freedom to find a “tight” group of friends and herself. shes talking about third wave feminism all the time, she’s papped every day, and she started dating c*lvin h*rris; they date for a year, he was the first boyfriend to be posted on social media, and the one she was with the longest (until her current bf). publically, she’s the happiest and most successful she’s ever been. personally, it’s more complicated, especially by the last few months. “she lost him, but she found herself and somehow that was everything” and “from the girl who said she would never cut her hair or move to new york or find happiness in a world where she wasn't in love”

album: single handedly brings 80s pop into the mainstream. (like seriously, her only contemporary influence is lana del rey, and even that is only on a few tracks. listening to this when it came out was a religious experience). it sounds basic now but only because she influenced all of the pop music that came after her. its also her first sonically cohesive album since fearless. subject matter wise, its very 80s movie. it’s the first album without a break up song that ruins a man's whole career— no cold as you, dear john, or all too well type. the relationship is on and off again, but more muted and mature then the tumultuous ones portrayed on red. its very star crossed; two people who just can’t find the right time. she’s also writing about how fame has affected her— blank space, shake it off, and i know places all directly reference it, but the idea that the whole world is watching is woven all throughout the album

bleachella (2016) 

this isn't an album but its definitely an era

taylor has become so oversaturated that people are starting to turn on her, and her mental health is suffering. her relationship with c*lvin h*rris is falling apart, she's changing her hair every couple of moths (most notably she bleaches it, and goes to coachella. so like bleachella), and then all of a sudden The Phone Call happens. kim and kanye release edited footage of a phone call that makes it seem like taylor swift is a liar who intentionally plays the victim to stay in the public’s good graces, and the world pounces on it. between that and the idea that her friend group is super cliche-y and exclusionary, her reputation is ruined and she goes in hiding for months. before going into hiding though, she breaks it off with c*lvin (he throws a FIT on twitter) and starts a whirlwind romance with tom hiddleston that includes them flying all over the world on vacations and meeting each others parents super quickly. this all happens in one summer.

reputation (2017)

era: black and white and gold. very edgy, very rich, lots of snakes and casual wealth. there’s the aesthetic of her being very hurt and defensive and lashing out, but the reality of her being the happiest she’s ever been. she’s still famous, but she’s learned how to have a private life and healthy relationships. the tough times have shown her who and what’s important to her

album: pretty much that. the first half is brash and bombastic and playing off what people expect her to be like, how they expect her to fall in and out of love quickly and manipulate those around her to see her as a good person (while exploring sounds that no one expected her to explore) and the second half slows it down and shows her falling in love more explicitly and sweetly and under cover. “in the death of her reputation she felt truly alive” and “finding love through all the noise”

lover (2019)

era: bright pink and pastels and bright colors and happiness and butterflies!! she’s in love and beloved by the general public again, but all of her past albums have been stolen from her by a man she thought she could trust. sadly cut off short by covid. “step into the daylight and let it go”

album: her messiest album (sonically) since red. a popular saying when it first came out was that it had the writing of speak now but the sound of 1989, which is... understandable? its the kind of thing you have to form your own opinion on. it’s on the surface all bubblegum pop and being in love, but it has some of the absolute saddest songs of her entire discography. a 18 song long rollercoaster

folklore and evermore

preface: these are definitely two separate albums and there’s a definitely a difference but this girl has so many albums and it’s taken me an hour to answer this ask and it’s 1am right now so i’m gonna smush them together. go listen to them, and we’re in the era right now

eras: it been covid so all we’ve got are a couple performances and the album visuals. cottagecore, a return to the small town setting of her first two albums, very understated and timeless. one noteworthy element is that both albums were surprise releases (especially after lover had almost a year of build up that kinda worked against it). she’s reached a level of artistic respect that she’s never had

albums: folklore is a level of sonic and thematic cohesion comparable to 1989, as well as having a similar feeling of like. oh god we’ve been waiting for you to make an album like this for years and you’ve still exceeded every exception and made it surprising. evermore is mostly a continuation of its sound, though it’s a bit more experimental. both albums are incredibly mature, and move into non-autobiographical storytelling for most of the songs. it’s easy to build your own world based on one or both of the albums. their main themes are also mostly divorced from relationships, and more tied to personal identity and mental state (though there is quite a bit about divorce and heartbreak in both)

[eat-the-richard]

Sonic’s 30th: What it could be and what it won’t be

Well folks, it's about that time again. Our beloved Sonic thee Hedgehog is turning the big three-oh this year.

I say that time “again” because, y’know, it seems like we just went through this. The last mainline Sonic releases, Sonic Mania and Sonic Forces, were both revealed as part of Sonic’s 25th anniversary. In a sense, that’s all us fans really have to look forward to anymore. Waiting for about five-or-so rotations around the sun to pass until SEGA can slap that big number next to Sonic’s mug to usher out as much celebratory marketing material as they can, all for the chance to get a smidgen of new video games to get our hands on.

This anniversary feels... different, though. Last anniversary SEGA had an absolute winner on their hands in Sonic Mania. There was no way the team behind that one could possibly mess up. And even if Sonic Forces turned out like... that, it at least made sense from SEGA’s perspective to greenlight a game like it during that time. But the five years since those games were announced have done little to assuage my worries about what exactly is planned for this year’s big game.

You see, Sonic has kind of vanished. He’s lost. M.I.A.. Which feels strange. Even during the supposed “dark age” of Sonic, he never really went anywhere. New games were still being produced like clockwork for a whole host of gaming systems. From mainline titles to spinoffs, dedicated Sonic fans had a lot to sink their teeth into back then. Since the release of Forces, all we really have to show for ourselves is a (personally) insignificant expansion to Sonic Mania and a new racing title which, frankly, didn’t set the world on fire when it was released. I suppose there’s a whole host of mobile titles that I didn’t mention but it’s difficult to get excited over yet another Sonic auto-runner. Perhaps most bafflingly, there haven’t even been many ports of older Sonic titles to modern hardware. If the mid-2000s were the dark ages of Sonic, perhaps right now we’re living in the “silent age,” where basically nothing is even happening and the franchise is at an eternal standstill.

The sole exception to this self-titled silent era was the Sonic movie, which I don’t think anyone anticipated being as big of a success as it was. Including the studio behind it. And especially including SEGA. It was utterly baffling to me that, upon the film’s release, there was nothing in the way of a tie-in game. Nothing directly associated with the movie. Nothing separate to release alongside the movie. Nothing. Some have speculated that SEGA was supremely unconfident in the film and it's hard to argue otherwise. It seems that, in a sense, the movie was a success in spite of the company the IP is linked with.

That’s why this anniversary feels more peculiar than the last one. At least Sonic was doing something in the early 2010s. Perhaps nothing groundbreaking, but he was at least around. If it hadn’t been for the movie, how in the world would the series be attracting new fans? This anniversary needs to be big. It needs to be the explosive re-emergence of Sonic to not only please the jaded oldies but the next generation of kids. And… I just don’t anticipate anything of the sort.

To me, Sonic Team has about four directions they could take the 30th anniversary game. Here they are, listed in descending order of likelihood.

4. A new “boost” game. Sonic Team ain’t opening that can of worms again.

3. A new “classic Sonic” game. While Christian Whitehead’s new studio has been deafeningly silent since forming, I believe that we’d have a bit more information about a Sonic Mania sequel by now if that was indeed in development.

2. Something entirely different.

1. Sonic Adventure 3 (or comparable analog).

Now, your reaction to that list may differ depending on your preferences and the year you were born. To me, something evoking nostalgia to the two Sonic Adventures is the safest and most likely choice for SEGA and Sonic Team. Just as classic nostalgia permeated through the 2010s, Adventure nostalgia will trailblaze full force through the 2020s. There are a lot of people whose only exposure to Sonic at all is playing Sonic Adventure 2 Battle on their GameCube. And the only way those people could potentially get funneled back into the series is through a proper Sonic Adventure 3, or at least something like it.

This, of course, says nothing about the overall quality of what this new Adventure title would be. And really, this is my main concern with the 30th anniversary. Can I even trust Sonic Team anymore to put out a good game?

Regardless of style, I’m unconfident to say the least. The staff that worked on the Adventure titles are not at SEGA anymore. The staff that spearheaded the “boost trilogy” of Unleashed, Colors, and Generations are not at SEGA anymore. And modern-day Sonic Team’s idea of something entirely different is, well, unappealing. Sonic Lost World proved that trying to change the core of the series for its own sake leads to a bland and uninspiring experience. And Forces? Oh… Forces.

Really, Forces is the main reason why I’m so disillusioned. Maybe it was that I was excited for the grand return of the boost. Maybe it was that I loved Generations so much that a proper sequel to it couldn’t possibly be bad. Instead of being a sequel to Generations, though, it tries to be everything at once. A game to appeal to the classic fans, the Adventure fans, the boost fans, those whole love complicated narratives, those who love the many characters this series has, and, obviously, the Original Character Artists™. Jack of all trades, master of nothing. A directionless, soulless game that in some instances is seemingly artificially-generated.

If this spectacular 30th anniversary Sonic game is something entirely different, it had to break an astounding amount of new ground. It had to rethink and reshape the series so drastically that, honestly, I don’t think it's very likely. I don’t think Sonic Team has even the slightest clue about what makes their flagship IP so appealing to so many people. If the nostalgia-fueled 2010s are any indication, SEGA only understands what makes Sonic so popular on a superficial level. 

They know we liked the 2D games, so now EVERY game has 2D in it! Oh, they didn’t like that Sonic has green eyes. Well, let’s bring back the CLASSIC version of Sonic. Let’s actually make him his own character who will also appear in every game! 

New zone ideas? LMAO how about we reuse the same set of classic levels over and over! Green Hill? YES! Chemical Plant? Of course! Let’s make an entire game that has both Sonics running around in a bunch of old zones. Wait, didn’t we just do that idea last year for Sonic 4 Episode 1? And aren’t we going to do that idea NEXT year for Sonic 4 Episode 2? WAIT DID SOMEONE SAY CHECKERBOARD PATTERNS IN WINDY HILL ZONE!???!!!! 

Oh wait, Christian Whitehead just pitched to us a brand new 2D Sonic game with classic physics and new levels? We’ll let him do it, but ONLY if it is ANOTHER nostalgia game that reuses old zones! 

Let’s inundate our fans with the same images of their childhood to activate their dopamine receptors! 

I can hardly wait for what this team’s idea of Sonic Adventure nostalgia looks like. Hope you really like City Escape.

Really, while such appeals to nostalgia are welcome the first few times, after a while it starts to get grating. Sonic Team leaning so hard into it during the 2010s reeks to me of desperation. As if the constant callbacks are the only thing the team knows how to do to link new games with the rest of the series. 

In actuality, fans don’t like Sonic because of the classic design or 2D-platforming or Green Hill Zone. They may like those things, but it isn’t why they continue to support the series. Fans love Sonic so fervently because, when he hits on all cylinders, he really hits. His games play in a supremely rewarding way where skill mastery is key. The better you are at Sonic, the better you feel while playing it. The personalities and designs of all of the different characters, from Sonic to Tails to Vector the freakin’ Crocodile, are not only distinct from each other but bleed through into gameplay in the way that they control and in how they are animated. Sonic’s best stories are ones that people can really relate to, dealing with a whole host of themes such as environmentalism, resisting fascism, surpassing expectations, and even the concept of free will among nonhuman entities. Not especially deep, but certainly thought provoking, especially for kids. All tied together with top notch visual and audio design that will stand the test of time. I’d posit that, while people like Sonic for a whole host of reasons, their starting point lies somewhere in the above explanation.

Hopefully, Sonic Team has realized by now that nostalgia will only get them so far. While a Sonic Adventure 3 would turn heads, it wouldn’t push the series forward. While a proper sequel to Sonic Mania would be a critical darling, it would continue to keep Sonic’s feet firmly planted in 1991. Sonic needs to evolve. He needs to change. And it seems like a change is happening. Roger Craig Smith, the voice of Sonic for the last 10 years, is no longer working with the series. The new TV series, Sonic Prime, is set to take place in a “strange new multiverse.” Even the Sonic movie refuses to lean on nostalgia too hard. 

So maybe the future will be set in unfamiliar waters. But if this is the case, I don’t want SEGA to half ass it. I want them to boldly step into that abyss with a vision of Sonic that appeals to the heart of the fandom. Because, even if it's been down recently, that heart is still beating, and after the abuse it's already taken, it’s going to take a hell of a lot to get it to stop. And if SEGA can get this heart pumping to its full extreme as it had in years past, we may have something legendary to look forward to.

They could also just release a bunch of old Sonic games on Switch. I’d like that too.

[musicollage]

Atlas Sound. Logos, 2009. Kranky (USA) / 4AD (UK). ( Lyrics & Music – Bradford Cox )  ~ [ Album Review |   1) Pitchfork  +  2) Pop Matters  + 3) Drowned In Sound  +  4) NME  + 5) Prefix Magazine  ]

1) As we've gotten to know Bradford Cox over the last couple of years through shows, interviews, and blog posts, one of the Deerhunter frontman's most appealing qualities is his deep and nuanced appreciation of the music of others. Some musicians listen to records to see how they work, check out the competition, or trawl for ideas; by all available evidence, Cox feels records, deeply. If he was born without musical gifts and couldn't sing or play an instrument, one can imagine him working at a record store, amassing an enviable collection while driving people on a message board crazy with the sureness of his detailed opinions. Whatever you think of his exploits as an indie rock media figure, Cox's music fandom is easy to identify with and also offers a portal into his own work.

Atlas Sound, Cox's solo alias, in one sense serves as a sort of laboratory for figuring out what makes some his favorite music tick, away from the expectations of his main band. Two collaborations on Logos, the second Atlas Sound full-length, are excellent examples of how music listening can be absorbed into original work. First is "Walkabout", a track Cox wrote and recorded with Noah Lennox from Animal Collective, whom Cox got to know during a European tour. Though Cox's music shades dark and Lennox's is often flecked with uncertainty and doubt, "Walkabout" is the sunniest pop tune of either of their careers. Coasting on a buoyant, twinkling keyboard sample, it is a starkly catchy and irresistible, a clattery post-millennial Archies tune that straddles perfectly the border between simple and simplistic. Interestingly, it also sounds very much like a Panda Bear tune.

Then there is Lætitia Sadier of Stereolab, who wrote the lyrics and sings lead on Logos' "Quick Canal". The song opens with some gorgeously textured organ chords and soon a steady-state beat and drums rise up in the mix, setting the kind of relaxed-but-propulsive neo-krautrock scene that Stereolab perfected very early on. Here Cox gets to play the part of the late Mary Hansen, adding "la-di-da" trills behind Sadier as she intones phrases in her unfailingly lovely, for-the-ages voice. He even throws in a "Jenny Ondioline"-style rupture about halfway through, sending the track into a breathtaking shoegaze section for its final four minutes, wherein it floats magisterially on a pillow of shifting guitar feedback. "Quick Canal" is almost nine minutes long and it doesn't waste a second.

On these tracks, the confidence Cox shows in melting his aesthetic into the soundworld of other musicians is striking-- both are unqualified successes, very different from each other but among the best things Cox has ever done. But they also sound a lot like the music his collaborators are known for. Cox's sympathetic support and sense of how to construct songs with others suggests a desire to expand the parameters of what Atlas Sound can be. And given his willingness to let others take the microphone on an Atlas Sound project on these cuts, I can't help but go back to Cox's words on Logos before the album was released, which suggested that this was to be less introverted and that was "not about me."

And then I remember that the cover of the album consists of a photo of Cox with his shirt off and the lyrics in the first two songs start with the word "I", which suggests that we probably shouldn't take these statements very seriously. While the songs may or may not be "about" Cox in the strictest sense, the overall vibe is at least as introverted as 2008's Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel, and every note bears the same signature. With its strummed guitars, hushed double-tracked vocals, and tunes more reliant on ambiance and feel than melody or rhythm, Logos feels every bit as diaristic and personal, but with Cox, that's a plus. At this point, we're not looking to this guy for commentary on the outside world; we want to hear him wrestle with private demons in the sanctuary of his bedroom, bathing every sound in reverb to give the illusion of space and as a sonic balm against loneliness and figuring out how to make music as affecting as the stuff he loves to listen to.

So tracks like "The Light That Failed", "An Orchid", and "My Halo" (the latter two, though different in tone, are further entries in Cox's growing line of melancholy waltz-time shuffles) function primarily as the kind of eerie, blown-out mood music he has become very good at. They are amorphous sketches that still manage to convey feeling, capturing the sort of sad, exhausted, and fragile emotional state that is Cox's area of expertise. "Shelia", a taut pop song with a great chorus hook, is a change-up, though the repeating refrain "No one wants to die alone" fits with the rest of the record's themes. And "Washington School", with its dissonant chime of metallic percussion that sound like gamelan or evilly out-of-tune steel drums, contains the record's most interesting production, with thick drones reminiscent of Tim Hecker and menacing rhythm track.

So some things are different, some are the same, but all of it works well together. It's true that every time Cox ventures out of his comfort zone on Logos, you wish that he'd go even further and embrace extremes-- of tunefulness, tradition, noise-- that don't necessarily come to him naturally. He may yet take a big leap with Atlas Sound, but here the steps away, though rewarding, are tentative. For the rest of the record, Logos feels familiar and assuring, another affecting dispatch from a corner of indie music that is increasingly starting to seem like one Cox pretty much owns.

2) Take a quick gander at Deerhunter's discography and you'll notice a clear stylistic trajectory. From the confrontational noise of "Turn It Up Faggot" to the ambient preoccupations of Cryptograms to the straight-up indie-pop of Microcastle/Weird Era Cont., it's plain to see that as the band has evolved over time, its songwriting has increasingly tended toward the more accessible end of the spectrum. Unsurprisingly, it appears that Bradford Cox's other songwriting vehicle, Atlas Sound, is following a similar arc. On Logos, his second album under the Atlas Sound moniker, Cox provides us with 11 songs that are far less insular, though no less dreamy, than those he has penned in the past. While his fractured compositions still evoke the myth of the bedroom pop auteur, the songs on Logos sound considerably more refined than the lo-fi sketches being churned out by many of his peers. This, as it turns out, is a very good thing.

  To wit: "Walkabout", the track that had the blogosphere buzzing with anticipation for the better part of the summer. Built around a squelchy organ sample lifted from the Dovers "What Am I Going to Do", the song simultaneously recalls both the acid-tinged psychedelia of Black Moth Super Rainbow and the technicolor pop of Brian Wilson. Of course, it's impossible to mention "Walkabout" without acknowledging its co-creator, Noah Lennox, a.k.a. Panda Bear. In many ways, "Walkabout" bears Lennox's fingerprints more than it does Cox's, with Lennox's wistful vocal harmonies echoing throughout the track's four-minute runtime. It's easy to see why Cox chose to leak "Walkabout" well in advance of the release of Logos; bright, bubbly and infinitely catchy, the song perfectly captures the mood of a fleeting summer afternoon and stands as one of the year's best singles.

   "Walkabout" is obviously a standout, though it's also an outlier when approached within the context of Logos. While some may feel as if they've been misled, the good news is that the rest of the album is no less rewarding, if not quite as instantly gratifying. Take, for example, the opening suite that leads up to "Walkabout". Pitting disjointed acoustic guitar strums and distant, reverb-soaked vocals against a backdrop of aqueous noise, "The Light That Failed" succeeds at drawing the listener in while still keeping her at arm's length. "An Orchid", meanwhile, presents the listener with a dreamy ballad that feels like an indistinct outline for a Deerhunter song. Cox's vocals and the song's guitar hook are buried just deep enough in the mix to force the listener to dig a little. When "Walkabout" finally hits, it feels like a reward well earned.

  Luckily, "Walkabout" isn't the only nugget of pure pop bliss to be found on Logos. "Shelia", a disarmingly straightforward slice of jangly college-rock, proves hard to shake, with its Pixies-esque melody and sun-bleached three-part harmonies. Lyrically, the song serves as a world-weary rejoinder to the sweetly nostalgic refrain of "Walkabout" ("What did you want to be / When you grew up"), with Cox explaining, "No one wants / To die alone", before promising the song's titular subject, "We'll die alone / Together." It sure goes down easy, though.

  Cox has publicly acknowledged that Stereolab were his favorite band in high school, so it should come as no surprise that given the opportunity to collaborate with Lætitia Sadier, he puts his best foot forward. On "Quick Canal", he lovingly builds up and tears down a cathedral of sound for Sadier to inhabit, layering a deep bass groove, tambourine hits and a wall of gently panning organs atop a steady, shuffling beat. Midway through, the song falls apart, briefly taking a detour into glitchy noise before giving way to a squall of fuzzed-out guitars. Try as Cox might to obfuscate the vocals, however, Sadier's voice proves indefatigable. To her credit, she sounds right at home here, bouncing her voice off of the song's jagged edges to produce a track that's equal parts haunting and triumphant.

  With regard to electronic composition, on Logos Cox sounds more confident than ever before. Samples and electronic instrumentation form the underpinnings of many of the album's songs, though not to conspicuous effect. Penultimate track "Washington School" illustrates this point better than perhaps any other on the album. Opening with a loop built from fragments of a minor key piano line, the song soon piles on a pounding, bass-heavy beat, chimes and a playful synth line, blossoming into a full-on folktronica number that recalls Four Tet circa Rounds. Somewhere in the distance, Cox's disembodied voice rings out: "Shine a light / On me."

  If Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel was the product of Cox's willful isolation, then Logos is the sound of the auteur stepping outside of his bedroom to engage the world outside. Though it cedes little of the hazy delivery that made Let the Blind… so compelling, Logos brims with a wide-eyed energy all its own, conveying a palpable sense of optimism that's all too rare in Cox's oeuvre. This isn't too surprising when one considers the circumstances; the path that led Cox to the album's creation -- globetrotting tours with his idols, collaborations with some of the most distinctive voices in indie rock -- is the stuff of dreams for hermetic music nerds. Perhaps that's why Logos sounds as vibrant as it does: it's the result of Bradford Cox living out his dreams rather than just dreaming them.

   3) One of many unsatisfactory things about end-of-decade retrospectives is that musicians are rarely so accommodating as to plot their careers in nice, convenient ten year cycles. Nonetheless, that’s how posterity tends to remember them, regardless of finer details. Thus the Kinks are Sixties artists, the Clash a Seventies act, Talk Talk an Eighties band, Nirvana from the Nineties, and you’d comfortably stick a punt on The Strokes and Sufjan Stevens ending up defined by this decade we’re exiting.

  But what of Bradford Cox? Even if you were aware of Deerhunter's raucous 2005 debut ”Turn It Up Faggot” at the time, you're a wizard or a liar if you foresaw how their frontman was going to fill the years 2007 to 2009. That is to say: three Deerhunter albums (‘tis a fool indeed who views Weird Era Cont. as anything other than a record in its own right), two EPs, and a solo project as Atlas Sound that’s yielded God-know-how-many free downloads, as well as last year's Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel, and now – an epic 22 months later - Logos. That all of this bar the odd freebie has been good to exemplary is simply astonishing, and points to an artist whose profligacy and cult popularity has him nicely set up to be a defining artist of the next decade.

  And yet... anomalous as ”Turn It Up Faggot” may seem, such scabrous origins are indicative of a palette that has been cooling and quietening ever since Cox first intersected with the limelight. The soundbite-friendly ‘ambient punk’ aesthetic never really lasted beyond Cryptograms, with Microcastle canning the abrasiveness in favour of reasonably straightforward shoegaze set off with dreamlike Fifties flourishes. Having arrived at something like a commercial sound, another artist might have stopped there; however, Cox has ploughed right on through, this year’s Rainwater Cassette Exchange far and away Deerhunter’s most introverted work, a retreat into quiescent childhood reverie.

  Logos has much more in common with Rainwater... than Let the Blind..., for the most part ditching the dissonant electronics in favour of delayed acoustic guitars and old-time pop structures. On the face of it, it sets out Atlas Sound’s stall as simply being whatever Cox may do sans Deerhunter. Yet in a way the 'ambient solo project' tag still kind of makes sense. Strictly speaking ambient music is defined not by instrumentation, but by its evasion of the consciousness. Whole swathes of Logos are blurred and indistinct - technically melodic, hooky songs treated and delivered in such a way that they all but self-negate, leaving nothing but fleeting impressions: the winsome viola that arrives in ‘Attic Lights’, just as Cox mutters ”maximum pain, maximum effect”; the gay singer’s unsettling yearning for traditional marriage on ‘Sheila’ ("we’ll die alone, together"); the barely discernible mantra ”all is love” that briefly ghosts through ‘Washington School’.

  This might sound like a way of romanticising an unmemorable album, but that's far from the case. These songs are bunched together into two dreamy, fog-like passages that serve as a backdrop for a handful of the most tangible tunes Cox has ever written, soaring atmospherically above the misty dreampop. Opener ‘The Light That Failed’ roots itself in the consciousness through eerily torpid glitching, Cox’s disconcerting use of something approaching a falsetto, and the doomy langour of its titular lyric. It sets up an album that frequently drifts into disquieting areas, yet never quite follows through on this early moment of dread. Indeed, delightful Panda Bear hook up ‘Walkabout’ serves as definitive proof that the light hasn't failed at all. While much of Cox’s early pop obsession speaks of a desire to creep out of the now entirely, ‘Walkabout’ is far more tangible and good natured, thanks largely to Panda Bear’s high, comforting tones and the appropriation of the hook from actual vintage Sixties pop gem ‘What Am I Going To Do?’ by The Dovers. Ironically for a song built around a 40-year-old tune, nothing, else on Logos has ‘Walkabout’s immediacy, though the excellent title track comes close, a rattling Strokes-alike number slightly removed from the world by Cox’s arsenal of floaty FX.

  As we’ve known ever since last year’s leak of the Logos demos, the centrepiece is the eight and a half minute, wholly electronic ‘Quick Canal’. Though tamed a little from the leaked 13 minute instrumental, this more mannered, Laetitia Sadier-sung incarnation is a better fit here, and still towers above the skyline. The Stereolab singer adds an inescapably Enya-ish quality to the gentle early stages, but by the time the song’s swooshing, snowy motorik has kicked into full gear she fits in immaculately, an aloof Old World passenger on a song charged with haughty European electronica. It perhaps doesn’t sound so jaw-dropping as it did in isolation, but a lot of that can be attributed to an intentional effect of the surroundings. Those short, subliminal songs serving to filter away reality and focus, like half remembered dreams that leaves the senses baffled and feverish.

  Logos is a gorgeous, hallucinatory and somewhat sickly outing. While there's every chance he'll wrong foot us, and soon, this record is entirely in keeping with the increasingly self-erasing route Bradford Cox has taken as a musician; it's hard to stifle a shudder at that blanked out cover image. Maybe Cox will go on to be a star next decade - he's a gregarious, prolific man liked by critics. But listen to his music, and that doesn't feel quite right. Maybe he'll become an icon. Or maybe he’ll finally make his escape from our timestream entirely, leaving us to wonder if he was ever there at all.

   4) Much like Starbucks, Bradford Cox has become a ubiquitous presence. What with his work with art-rock outfit Deerhunter, his involvement in Karen O’s official soundtrack for Where The Wild Things Are, and now this, his second solo offering under the Atlas Sound banner, you’d be forgiven for thinking that such familiarity will start to breed contempt. But you’d be way off the mark.

  There are two things you should know about this unlikely lo-fi hero of gangly deportment (he has Marfan Syndrome, a genetic disorder that stretches his limbs and strains his heart) and a girlish speaking voice (the affliction for this is yet uncertain). Firstly, it is impossible to dislike him (just see Wayne Coyne’s spoof argument with him on YouTube, branding Cox a “dick”). Secondly, his creative output has proved him to be one of – if not the – most forward-thinking and inspiring musicians of our generation.

  So, as Cox takes time out from Deerhunter, along comes ‘Logos’. Less of an experimental minefield than its predecessor, ‘Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel’, it sees Cox weave in and out of dream-like sequences, such as the sombre ‘The Light That Failed’ and ‘Quick Canal’, the latter featuring the sweetly masculine vocal of [a]Stereolab[/a]’s Laetitia Sadier; while ‘An Orchid’ pitches in as the aural equivalent of a David Lynch storyboard, guided along with looped noises and whimsical vocals.

  It’d be easy to overlook Cox’s lyrics when the soundscapes are this rich and ornate, but there’s a delicate exploration of the most human of sensibilities and yearnings on ‘Logos’. He opens up the emotional vaults on ‘Sheila’, pining softly that “no-one wants to die alone… we’ll die alone together”. Likewise with ‘My Halo’, where Cox reveals “My halo burned a hole in the sky/My halo burned a hole in the ground… so I wait for polarity to change”. There’s much warmth and playfulness to be found here too, the unfeigned honesty and childlish desires expressed on ‘Walkabout’ – featuring the falsetto of [a]Animal Collective[/a]’s Noah Lennox – with its lyric “What did you want to see?/What did you want to be when you grew up?” being a case in point.

  Cox may have tagged Atlas Sound as just another side-project, but ‘Logos’ is a clear indication that his solo creative output is just as richly rewarding as what came before.

   5) For a project originally started as a way for Deerhunter frontman Bradford Cox to give a voice to his despairing isolation (he records completely alone) as a teenager, Atlas Sound is starting to sound like an arena-filling, widescreen pop project. Logos, Cox’s second proper solo album, takes the dense, gray worlds of Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See, But Cannot Feel and puts them through a rainbow, delivering a splendid album.

  If there’s one word to describe Logos, it’s “watery.” And in that regard, Logos shares a lot in common with Merriweather Post Pavilion (and Deerhunter’s Rainwater Cassette Exchange from earlier this year). Both albums trade in dreamy avant-pop landscapes buoyed by soggy atmospherics. “Criminals” sways like a shipping vessel in choppy seas, while the album’s great closing third (“My Halo” through the title track) sounds like it was transmitted from that underwater base in the third season of Lost. Cox is still reliant on the general ambiance that envelops his solo work, but here he’s willing to let his vocals float above the mix. And while musically this is brighter, he’s still all Debbie Downer. Old standby lyrical tropes of growing old (on “Sheila” Cox sings “we will grow old” like he’s reassuring someone else), loneliness (“Attic Lights”) and lost hope (“The Light that Failed”) show up repeatedly, and he still sounds like he’s on his deathbed when he sings.

  But for an album created largely by one guy alone in his room, the guest performances shine the most on Logos. Stereolab’s  Lætitia Sadier wrote the lyrics for “Quick Canal,” a sprawling, shoegazey track that never loses its motorik motion, peaking repeatedly in its eight minutes. The bubbly “Walkabout,” the high-profile track with Animal Collective’s Panda Bear lives up to all the hypertext spilled about it this summer, delivering the best of both Panda Bear’s effervescent youthful innocence and Cox’s wistful yearning.

  Logos, while just the second solo album from the frontman for a band of marginal fame, represents the latest and greatest chapter in Cox’s ride to indie stardom. He rose to prominence mid-decade as a confrontational trickster riding blog-hype (circa Cryptograms), continuing with a solo album to build his brand (Let the Blind), an indie-rock masterwork (Microcastle) and a solo album of nearly as high repute (Logos). As for what’s next, Cox has remained mum (though Deerhunter might be taking a hiatus), but with Logos, he ensures we’ll all be waiting.  

[tf-reconciliation]

Prime Megatron vs. IDW1 Megatron analysis that no one asked for

This is really slapdash and was done in like an hour and a half this morning so there’s probably some incorrectness about timeline stuff (especially with IDW1 Megs), but this is pretty much all opinion. This is also really long, so I put it under a read more.

There’s some things to think about regarding Prime Megs vs other Megses with similar backstory (thinking primarily IDW1 [and this is all my interpretation based on what we get in MTMTE] Megs).

In Exodus, it’s implied early on that while Megs does want to reform the government of Cybertron he wants to do it with him at the top as “Prime.” My impression of this is that he has a thought process of “the government sucks, I could do it better, and I deserve to be the one in charge of doing it.”

Here’s Megatron’s speech to the Council in Chapter Thirteen of Exodus, without the narration unless it’s crucial for context:

“In the beginning I had not name. None of us did. We spoke to each other, down in the mines and the smelters, by electronic signature. We indicated each other by function. We assigned each other nicknames. I was D-16, named for the sector of mine where I conducted demolition operations. And then I saw my first match in the gladiator pits. That is where I first learned how life was for the lower castes that none of you ever take a nanoclick to consider. Each Cybertronian in that balcony has seen more Cybertronians die himself than the total of you in the rest of the gallery. Our lives are worthless!

Until--Until we decided we had worth. We, the lower castes. We, the bots who die in subsurface mills and factories creating all of the things that you up here take for granted. We learned that we were individuals by facing off against each other in the gladiator pits in Slaughter City and Kaon, and how did we know we were individuals?” He waited for a moment to let the question sink in. “We knew we were individuals because as we killed our opponents in the ring, we saw in their deaths the realization that they were individuals. And so we knew we were, too. In killing, we understood life. In being the most disposable of commodities--a gladiator, whose remains are thrown into the junkpile to be picked over and scavenged, the healthy pieces sold off to brokers in Iacon and Crystal City--in being disposable, we discovered that we had value. Someone would pay us for what we did. Someone would cheer when we killed, and roar in anger when we died.

So if our lives had worth--even to others just as worthless as we were--then we had the right to names. And that is how the sequence of events started that led to me being here before you today. My friend Orion Pax, I thank you for helping our cause gain this platform; and to the High Council, I express my thanks for your time and attention.”

This is your usual fare for miner-cum-gladiator-cum-revolutionary-cum-tyrant Megatron. The Council goes on to ask him about the bombings at Six Lasers (among others), and he says that he had nothing to do with it and that he “disavow[s] any act that does not ultimately herald a new and better era on Cybertron.” The Council then asks, “Are you not responsible if your rhetoric excites those unfortunates without your willpower, though? Do you not have the same kind of responsiblity that this Council and its members have, if your leadership position is to be taken seriously?”

Megatron does not directly answer the question. Instead he says, “What you have to worry about is what will happen if my leadership is not taken seriously.” I kind of see this response as a thinly veiled threat to the Council.

Now, this chapter is ultimately from Orion Pax’s point of view, so we get his views on things: “Orion Pax couldn’t decide whether to admire him or be scandalized that he could stand up in front of the High Council and ignore the truth.” Orion believes that Megatron is ultimately responsible for these bombings because of his rhetoric.

The plot moves on with Halogen, the main dude on the Council, calling for the Guilds to speak . Orion then gets up to speak, first insulting the Guild representative and subtly blaming the Guilds for loosing contact with the colony worlds. It is Orion who calls for the Council to choose a new prime: “Choose well, for a Prime might either lead Cybertron to a new golden era in history, or stand by as the dark energies of anger and resentment explode into planetwide chaose and war.”

We then move into chapter fourteen.

Halogen then goes on to say that these two have a point the caste system has already begun to be upended. Most of this is just plot and talking about Sentinel Prime and how he’s missing.

Orion has an epiphany: “We cannot count on anything. No existing structure can handle the problems we have raised.” And he realizes that Megatron has realized it as well, but has had a different reaction:

“Megatron looked as if he could gleefully have presided over the permanent and total destruction of every institution of Cybertronian civilization. Orion Pax wanted to be free. But if there were no Cybertron, if there were no Iacon or Hydrax or Sonic Canyons...then what good would freedom do?”

The Council goes on and on about the Matrix of Leadership, culminating with Halogen saying that it has bee lost for billions of cycles and according to Alpha Trion it might be found “in these turbulent times.” Megatron says, very softly, “yes” at this point. He thinks that Halogen is talking about him; he thinks that the council is going to choose him to be the next Prime.

And Megatron starts projecting, in my opinion. He’s angry, which he is allowed to be seeing as things didn’t go his way and anger is a natural reaction to that, he feels betrayed, though he hasn’t actually been betrayed. He accuses Orion of just wanting power. He begins to mock him: “Does Cybertron not call out in its hour of need and find...a data clerk?”

Its at this point that we get back to my earlier point of Megatron thinking that he should be in charge. He reminds Orion that he didn’t know the plights of the lower castes until he met Megatron. He learned from Megatron. I believe at this point that Megatron is having a moment of “Why should the student surpass the master? Why should this more privileged ‘bot be the Prime when I have lived this injustice first hand?” These are fair questions, and I do think that a good portion of why the Council chose Orion as the next Prime has to do with him simply being less confrontational in his speech.

To me, it seems that Prime Megatron wanted the power to change Cybertron himself, and when he was denied it, he resorted to violence. While he was a miner at the start, he is primarily a gladiator. He says it himself that he didn’t truly learn what life was like for the lower castes until he first saw, and began participating in, gladiatorial matches. He knows violent solutions to violent problems first and foremost. He also spends a lot of time in later chapters thinking about “when i’m prime…” and while some of that might be to blame on Dark Energon, I think it’s also a lot of his own thoughts. He first aspired to be the leader of the gladiators, which he became. What’s to stop him aspiring to be Prime?

Now, IDW1 Megatron is an entirely different beast (at least re: early early on ala “Births, Deaths, and Interventions” and Elegant Chaos). I’m not as familiar with him between the events of BD&I and basically the rest of anything. I don’t know how exactly he gets from miner to tyrant.

What I do know is that at the beginning, he does not want to be in charge. Terminus tells him that he has two weapons, his brain and his fists, and he must be prepared to use both of them. Megatron rejects being a figurehead. His job “is to articulate the injustice at the heart of the system in the hope that others might be inspired as one, to push against it.” Terminus is almost pushing him to be this figurehead that he doesn’t want to be.

M: “I’m not a figurehead.”

T: “But you may yet become one—and that’s why you need to listen to me. Never back down. Never compromise. Never bend. The moment you try to accommodate a rival set of interests, you subordinate your own. When your enemies realize they can’t corrupt you, or contain you, or appease you…that’s when you’ll have their attention—because that’s when you become a genuine threat.”

M: “You’re focusing too much on the individual. Lasting power rests with the collective.”

T: “Of course—but the masses need someone to rally behind. Someone to take point. And even after that, even after you’ve forced the world to be fair…the top table is set for one. You must be prepared to sit alone.”

Now. I have opinions about Terminus that aren’t…positive. But here he’s pushing—he’s pushing for Megatron to take control, to lead almost singularly; he’s pushing against what Megatron wants. I think it’s important to realize that at some point you might have to resort to violence of some sort, but I think it’s also important to encourage peacefulness until you get to the point where it is literally impossible to do otherwise.

In Elegant Chaos part 1, present day Megs has a conversation with Orion Pax (we love time travel shenanigans) and he asks, “Why rely on someone else coming along and doing your job for you—someone who may not actually want the job?” This question implies that at some point before the war properly started, he still didn’t want to be the one in charge. I believe that he was somewhat content writing and inspiring people to change the system.  As evidenced in Elegant Chaos pt. 2 when Megatron is talking with Impactor: “Because the revolution will be about ideas. Taking a new step, uttering a new word…That’s what the ruling elite fears the most. Violence solves nothing.” Also, if I remember correctly he hides under the table during the fight in the bar.

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 22

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 22 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 22/? SUMMARY: Elise Smith is now a teenaged Timelord. In addition to losing the Ponds, the fields of Trenzalore are calling. But first they have to figure out exactly who Clara Oswald is.

[A/N - This was pretty fun to write. I love how the Second Elise plays off Eleven.]

The TARDIS phone was ringing.

Elise opened the door and looked at it.

In all the years of traveling with the Doctor, the phone attached to the outside of the TARDIS had never rang. So why was it ringing now?

She shrugged and shut the door, going back to her reading.

When the Doctor arrived at the TARDIS, the phone was still ringing. The Doctor opened the door of the TARDIS and yelled, “Why didn’t you answer the phone!”

“Not my problem!” Elise yelled back.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and slammed the door. God, she was moody today.

A few minutes later, the Doctor came running into the TARDIS dressed like a monk. He started throwing levers and pressing buttons.

“What’s going on?” Elise asked as the TARDIS took off.

“Clara!”

“What?” The Doctor laughed.

The TARDIS landed and he ran out, Elise following. They walked up to a door and the Doctor started knocking and ringing the doorbell.

“Clara? What about Clara?” Elise asked him.

The door opened and there stood Clara.

“Hello,” she said.

“Clara,” the Doctor breathed, “Clara Oswald.”

Elise stood there shocked.

“Hello.”

“Clara Oswin Oswald.”

“Just Clara Oswald. What was that middle one?”

“Do you remember me?”

“No. Should I? Who are you?”

“The Doctor. No? The Doctor? What about Elise?” He grabbed Elise and put her in front of her.

“Uh, no. I’m sorry. Doctor who?”

“No, just the Doctor. Actually, sorry, could you just ask me that again?”

“Could I what?”

“Could you just ask me that question again?”

“Doctor who?”

“Okay, just once more.”

“Doctor who?”

“Ooo, yeah. Ooo. Do you know, I never realized how much I enjoy hearing that said out loud. Thank you.”

“Okay.” Clara slammed the door in their faces.

“Hey, no, Clara, please. Clara, I need to talk to you. Listen. Please!”

Elise grabbed his arm. “Stop it. You’re going to scare her off!”

“Do you or do you not want to know why this girl keeps popping up in our life?”

“What if she’s a trap? What if it’s River all over again?”

“Then I guess we’ll find out. Won’t we?”

Clara’s voice came out of a speaker next to the door. “Why are you still here? Why are you here at all?”

“Oi, you phoned me. You were looking for the internet.”

“That was you?”

“Of course it was me.”

“How did you get here so fast?”

“I just happened to be in the neighborhood, on my mobile phone.” The Doctor stepped back and pointed to the TARDIS.

“When you say mobile phone, why do you point at that blue box?”

“Because it's a surprisingly accurate description.”

“I’m sure she’d appreciate that description,” Elise muttered.

The Doctor shushed her.

“Okay, we're finished now,” Clara said.

“Oi! No, look…” The Doctor sighed.

“Well, done,” Elise said.

“You…”

The Doctor stormed off into the TARDIS.

“So that’s it? We’re leaving?” Elise asked him.

“No.” The Doctor started to pull off his monk robe. “Right. Don't be a monk. Monks are not cool.” He went down to the lower level of the TARDIS and started pulling out clothes. He grabbed a fez and put it on his head before knocking it off. He pulled out two coats. His brown tweed from the Pond era and a purple knee length coat. To finish off the ensemble, he put on his favorite bowtie. He stepped onto the platform and gave Elise a little twirl.

She smiled. “I like it. Much better than that army green coat.”

“Oi. What’s wrong with that coat?”

Elise shrugged. “I just don’t like it.”

The two of them ran back to Clara’s front door.

“Clara! Clara?”

“Hello?”

“Ah, see? Look, it's me. De-monked.” He slapped his cheeks and spun around. “Sensible clothes. Can I come in now?”

“I don't understand.”

“Could you just open the door?”

“I don't know.”

“Of course you can.”

“…where I am. I don't know where I am. Where am I? Please tell me where I am. I don't know where I am.”

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver to open the door, but Elise shoved him aside. Elise, who was wearing heavy combat boots, kicked the door open.

“Elise!” the Doctor scolded.

“What? You wanted the door open, its open.”

The Doctor shook his head and muttered under his breath as they entered the home.

Clara was lying on the floor.

The Doctor soniced her. “Clara? Clara?”

Elise took one of her wrists. “She’s alive, but her pulse is weak.”

“I don't know where I am. I don't know where I am. I don't understand. I don't know where I am! I don't understand. I don't know where I am.”

The Doctor looked up and saw a girl on the staircase with a screen for a head.

“What the hell is that thing?” Elise asked.

“Where am I? I don't know where I am.”

The Doctor started sonicing the robot. “Walking base station. Walking Wi-Fi base station. Hoovering up data. Hoovering up people.” The Doctor ran out of the foyer, leaving Elise with the unconscious Clara. He came back with a laptop and started typing at a fast pace. “Oh no, you don't.”

Elise monitored Clara’s pulse as the Doctor continued to battle with the person on the other side of the laptop. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Not this time, Clara, I promise.”

“Come on. Come on,” Elise urged the Doctor.

Finally, a beam of blue light shot from the robot to Clara.

Clara gasped for breath and Elise helped her to roll to her side.

“Okay. It's okay, it's okay. You're fine. You're back. Yes, you are. Oh yes, you are.” The Doctor cradled Clara’s head and kissed her forehead.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Doctor and Elise sat outside, enjoying the night. The Doctor was trying to figure out the robot, while Elise read a book.

This body did a lot of that. She hardly ever picked up her paint set anymore.

“Hello?”

Elise and the Doctor looked up to see Clara looking out her little window.

The Doctor stood up.

“Hello! Are you all right?”

“I'm in bed.”

“Yes.”

“Don't remember going.”

“No.”

“What did I miss?”

“Oh, quite a lot, actually.” The Doctor pulled out a notepad. “Angie called. She's going to stay over at Nina's. Apparently that's all completely fine and you shouldn't worry like you always do. For god's sake get off her back. Also, your dad phoned, mainly about the government. He seems very cross with them, I've got several pages on that. I said I'd look into it. I fixed that rattling noise in the washing machine, indexed the kitchen cupboards, optimized photosynthesis in the main flower bed and assembled a quadricycle.”

Elise found it quite funny seeing the Doctor be all domestic, especially since he lost his mind after four days on Earth with the Ponds. Pond. Amy and Rory… Elise stopped that train of thought. No use in getting sad over something she couldn’t change.

“Assembled a what?”

“I found a disassembled quadricycle in the garage.”

“I don't think you did.”

“I invented the quadricycle.” The Doctor laughed.

“What happened to me?”

“Don't you remember?”

“I was scared, really scared. Didn't know where I was.”

“Do you know now?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, you should go to sleep. Because you're safe now, I promise. Goodnight, Clara.”

Clara shut her window, before opening it again. “Are you guarding me?”

“Well, yes. Yes, I am.”

Clara smiled and the Doctor gave her a small smile back. “Are you seriously going to sit down there all night?”

“I promise I won't budge from this spot.” He flipped his screwdriver, before tucking it back in his jacket and leaning back in his chair.

“Well then, I'll have to come to you.” Clara shut her window as the Doctor stood up.

“Eh?” He straightened his bowtie and smoothed out his coat.

“Are you…preening?” Elise asked him.

“What? No!” The Doctor’s cheeks were turning pink.

“Oh my god! You are! You like her!”

“I do not!”

She raised an eyebrow at him. He remembered her first body doing that. She’d clearly held onto that trait.

“Oh shut up!”

Clara came out the house carrying a chair and balancing three mugs.

Elise rushed to take one from her.

“Thanks,” Clara said.

“I like your house,” the Doctor told her.

“It isn't mine. I'm a friend of the family.”

“But you look after the kids. Oh yes, you're a governess, aren't you, just like...”

“Just like what?”

“Just like…” The Doctor took a sip of tea. “I thought you probably would be.”

“Are you going to explain what happened to me?”

The Doctor picked up her laptop and sat across from her. “There's something in the Wi-Fi.”

“Okay.”

“This whole world is swimming in Wi-Fi. We're living in a Wi-Fi soup. Suppose something got inside it. Suppose there was something living in the Wi-Fi, harvesting human minds. Extracting them. Imagine that. Human souls trapped like flies in the world-wide web. Stuck forever, crying out for help.”

“Isn't that basically Twitter?”

Elise let out a loud laugh. The Doctor smiled hearing her laugh. It was so rare these days.

The Doctor’s brows furrowed and he looked at Clara.

“What's that face for?” she asked.

“A computer can hack another computer. A living, sentient computer, maybe that could hack people. Edit them. Re-write them.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because a few hours ago you knew nothing about the internet, and you just made a joke about Twitter.”

“Oh. Oh. Oh, that's weird. I know all about computers now in my head. Where did all that come from?”

“You were uploaded for a while. Wherever you were, you brought something extra back, which I very much doubt you'll be allowed to keep.” The Doctor stood up and stared at a man standing across the road. “You and me inside that box, now.”

“I'm sorry?”

He urged Clara to stand up. “Look, just get inside.”

“All of us?”

“Oh, trust me. You'll understand once we're in there.”

“I bet I will.”

The Doctor turned around, shocked at what she was implying. “Clara, please!”

“What is that box, anyway? Why have you got a box?”

“Clara.”

“Is it like a snogging booth?”

“A what?”

“Is that what you do, bring a booth? There is such a thing as too keen.” She took a sip of her tea and raised her eyebrows.

Bedroom lights started to turn on around them.

“Clara, look around you,” the Doctor told her.

“What's going on? What's happening? Is the Wi-Fi switching on the lights?”

“No, people are switching on the lights. The Wi-Fi is switching on the people.”

The man across the street head started to turn and reveal a screen.

“What is that thing?”

“A walking base station. You saw one earlier.”

“I saw a little girl.”

“It must have taken an image from your subconscious, thrown it back at you. Ah!” The Doctor smacked himself in the head. “Active camouflage. They could be everywhere.”

“Doctor? Doctor.”

The lights of the city behind them started to turn off.

“What's going on? Our lights are on and everyone else's off. Why?”

A plane could be heard in the distance.

“Some planes have Wi-Fi.”

“I'm sorry?”

“We must be one hell of a target right now. You, me, box, right now.” He grabbed Clara’s hand and they ran into the TARDIS.

[secret-kkh-fics]

History Repeats | Chapter 3

Due to this not being posted anywhere else yet, please like and DON’T REBLOG my fics.

Chapter Summary:

She went right back to the start, and now it’s time to go right to the end… of her world anyway. Once again back on Platform One, Rose has her first proper chance to try and change things for the better. But it would be so much easier if she could just tell everyone Cassandra was trying to kill them…

Author Note:

Hello, and welcome to The End of the World. If you have a teleportation device to leave this story, they are not prohibited and I would reconsider that course of action. Mostly because this story is starting to get really good. I’ve kept it mostly the same as my original rewrite, but embellished it a little more, and I’m really happy with the direction it’s going.

I hope you enjoy it just as much.

End of the World A Gift in Good Faith

“Right then, Rose Tyler, you tell me. Where do you want to go? Backwards or forwards in time? What’s it going to be?” the Doctor asked the second she reached the console.

“Definitely forward,” she told him.

“How far?”

“Far as you like.”

He grinned in excitement at the prospect. Last time she faintly recalled that they had stopped a few times before she actually got out. He just kept showing off. She watched excitedly as he began madly rushing about the console, turning knobs and pressing buttons. He gave a few pumps of the ‘squeaky thing’, as he’d once described it to her, and then they stopped with a lurch.

“There you go,” he said with a wide grin. “Ten thousand years in the future. Step outside, it’s the year 12,005. The New Roman Empire.”

“You’re kidding!” she exclaimed, acting disbelieving. She saw the smug, self-satisfied grin plastered on his face and cracked up laughing. “Oh, you think you’re so impressive!”

“I am so impressive,” he said defensively. She loved how she could get him sounding that indignant and pouty so fast. God, he just loved showing off so much. He was always out to impress. And if he didn’t, he would pout, then try even harder.

“You wish!” she teased. “Come on, what’s the best you’ve got?!”

He grinned at her challenge, looking like a kid at Christmas. “Alright, Rose Tyler, you asked for it! I know exactly were to go!” He began the dance around the console again, and soon they were landing once more. The Doctor looked at her expectantly and gestured to the doors.

“Where are we?” Rose asked excitedly.

And despite the fact she knew, it really was genuine excitement. She couldn’t believe she was back here. She had once told the Doctor that his life was incredible because he could see days come and gone that only happened once. And she knew from experience that even then they could only go back to see it that once. If they wanted to be safe about it anyway. But here she was, back once more to do it all again. She would be able to have another go. She might be able to save the people that died the first time. She may even actually see the Earth explode this time! …Although, she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing to see…

When the Doctor just looked at her with a smile, she grinned and leaned in excitedly. “What’s out there? Come on, tell me!” 

The Doctor just gestured again, and without another beat, she turned and ran out. 

Once again, she found herself in that room with the viewing window. The Doctor followed her out and used the sonic screwdriver to open the window so they could look out. They walked down the steps and right up to the glass, and once again her breath was taken away by the spectacular view of the Earth with a huge, dying sun right behind it. 

“You lot,” the Doctor said affectionately. “You spend all your time thinking about dying. Like you’re going to get killed by eggs, or beef, or global warming, or asteroids. But you never take the time to imagine the impossible. Maybe you survive. This is the year 5.5/Apple/26. Five billion years in your future. This is the day… hold on…” He looked at his watch, and Rose smiled. “This is the day the sun expands. Welcome to the end of the world!” 

“I don’t think about dying,” she told him calmly. His eyebrows rose in surprise at the statement. Out of everything he had said, that had been what she picked up on? But what she said next was what threw him for a loop. “I’m not afraid of dying.”

“Really?” he asked. Most people her like her generally were. Humans were fragile, and most of them feared the inevitable. “Then, what are you afraid of?” 

“Leaving people behind,” she said. “Being left alone. No one deserves to be alone.” She saw a look pass across his face at that, but still, she kept staring out at the huge orange sun. “Imagine what it would be like, separated from the person you care the most about in the entire universe. They’re not dead, you know they’re not. Or at least… you hope they’re not. But you can never see them again, never hear their voice. They are somewhere out there, but no power in the universe could bring you together, you may as well be dead to one another. And that makes it even worse because you know that they are out there, all alone… Feeling just as lost and hurt as you are…” 

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” he noted softly. 

Rose started out of her thoughts and finally looked at him, flashing him a forced smile. “Nah, I’m just nineteen. This is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s just a fear.” 

Beside her, the Doctor frowned. There was something different about her. She seemed more confident than he had originally thought. And, not to sound rude, but more complex. He had known away from her family and obligations and all the things that dulled her life and held her back, she had the ability to shine. But this was almost something else. In the end, he gave up looking for what was so different about her and headed for the doors and down the corridors. Rose trailed after him, ignoring the announcement that came over the speakers.

“So, what is all of this, anyway?” she asked. She hated having to play dumb, and knew that it was probably going to bug her until she caught up, but the Doctor would get suspicious if she didn’t ask curious questions. She could deal with asking things she already knew the answers to if it meant she got to spend forever with the Doctor. “Some sort of party for people to come and watch the world go ‘boom’?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” the Doctor said, taking out his sonic-screwdriver to open the door that would lead to the main viewing platform. “The great and the good are gathering to watch the planet burn.”

“What for?” she asked.

“Fun!” he replied, grinning as the door slid open. Together, they walked into the huge viewing room where all the guests would soon be gathering. “Mind you,” he tacked on as they went in, “when I say ‘the great and the good’, what I mean is ‘the rich’. There’s gonna be all sorts of people.”

“You mean aliens,” Rose grinned.

“Yep! But who knows, maybe we’ll find some human people too.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” she muttered under her breath. There was no way in hell she was considering Cassandra as a human, even if she had seen her before she became a bloody trampoline.

“I’m not sure if there’s any pure humans left,” the Doctor went on. “You lot went off into the stars and, well, did what humans do,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, “and not always with other humans. But, this is the end of your planet, there has to at least be one human representitve of some kind.”

“Are you trying to suggest that humans are the bunnies of the universe, Doctor?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Oh, not at all. There are several species out there that could claim that title. Though, you are up there. Definitely the most far reaching. You lot are everywhere. It’s all very Captain Kirk.”

Rose giggled and they walked closer to the main viewing window. The sun could be seen like an explosion, looming over the planet before them. “God, it’s beautiful,” she said in awe, staring down at her planet. “It’s strange thinking that it’s gonna be different. That all this will be gone. That sun’s been there for billions and billions of years. And then it starts to die and billions of years it just…”

“Turns into a red giant and destroys majority of the planets around it. Mercury, Venus and Mars are already gone,” he told her. “Only reason Earth hasn’t gone yet is that it’s being protected. The planet’s the property of the National Trust. They’ve been keeping it preserved, using gravity satellites to hold back the sun.”

“A ‘National’ Trust that looks after an entire planet?” she snorted, making the Doctor snigger at her point. “And what? They just ‘put the countries back in the right place’ for the 21st century? I thought the continents were supposed to shift. Earthquakes, ice ages, global warming, rising sea and all that. You know, supercontinents forming and breaking apart and smashing back together in different ways to make new supercontenets.”

“They did… to both. The continents shifted and the Trust moved them back. That down there is a Classic Earth.”

“Classic? Who decided that?” she asked. “If someone made the choice to just… completely rearrange the landmasses back to how the used to be, why this era? Why not Pangea or Rodinia or some era from the future? Why is my time so special?”

“Oh, Rose Tyler. The 21st century is when it all changes. It’s when you lot finally really get out there and begin to explore the stars. It’s also the era that the National Trust was founded.  But now their money’s run out, so nature takes its course.”

“Right… nature. And when does that happen exactly?”

The Doctor looked down at his watch. “About half an hour. And then the planet gets roasted!” He grinned manically, his eyebrows rising in excitement. She noted that it wasn’t quite as manical as his next incarnation’s could be, but it still made her smile to herself.

“So, the Earth’s about to go ‘bye bye’, you’re not gonna stop it because it’s time is up. Or well, it’s time was up ages ago and they’re finally letting it happen. And this is some sort of party to… celebrate the fact that it’s not gonna be there anymore… Where are all the people? On Earth, I mean. They can’t still be down there.”

She knew the answer to that, of course. About now, a good amount of them would be settling down on New Earth or other planets.

“Nope, they left. All gone,” he replied. “Packed up and moved. Settled down in colonies on planets, in spaceships. Like I said, you humans are everywhere.”

“Mmm, we may just be stupid apes, but you love us,” she teased, giving him her tongue in teeth grin. The wide grin he had on his face at that suddenly dropped when a voice came from behind them.

“Who the hell are you?!” They spun around to see the blue skinned steward striding towards them.

“Oh, that’s nice. Thanks,” the Doctor said sarcastically.

“But how did you get in?” the steward snipped. “This is a maximum hospitality zone. The guests have disembarked! They’re on their way any second now!”

“That’s me,” the Doctor said quickly. “Look, I’ve got an invitation.” He took the psychic paper from his pocket and held it up to the man. “Look, you see? It’s fine, you see? The Doctor, plus one. I’m the Doctor, this is Rose Tyler. She’s my plus one. That alright?”

“Well… obviously,” he said stiffly. He seemed awkward and slightly embarrassed that he had mistaken guests for something else. He’d sort of been right, but he didn’t know that. Rose idly wondered if he turned purple when he blushed… assuming his blood was red. “Apologies, etcetera. If you’re onboard, we’d better start. Enjoy.” Then he briskly walked off to the podium near the door.

The Doctor turned to show her the psychic paper. “Nifty, that,” she told him.

“Yep! It’s psychic paper. Shows them whatever I want to see. Saves a lot of time.”

“And if you don’t have time to make them see anything?”

“Then their mind fills it in for them,” he told her. It was something she already knew, but then he told her something he’d never told her in the two plus years she’d known him. “Only genuses see it as blank. I only see it because I chose to.”

“Full of yourself, aren’t ya?” she laughed. “So, what kind of alien is he?”

“Hmm, well…” The Doctor looked at the steward a moment. “I would say he’s one of the many species of Crespallion. Majority of the humanoid species there have blue skin. There’s at least three separate races, all distinguishable by height. Only… I can’t quite remember which is which at the moment…”

“So much for genius,” she teased, bumping into his shoulder playfully.

Before the Doctor would even react indignantly the steward, once again, interrupted them as he spoke into the microphone.

“We have in attendance: the Doctor and Rose Tyler. Thank you. All staff to their positions.” He gave a sharp clap and soon a whole bunch of tiny blue aliens were scurrying about, getting everything ready. Rose remembered what the Doctor had just said and realised that these people must be one of the blue races. Just like that other blue woman she’d met the first time around. The space plummer. The steward encouraged them along a moment before turning back to the door. And now, might I introduce the next honoured guest: represent the forest of Cheem, we have Trees. Namely Jabe, Lute and Coffa.”

The doors opened again, and out stepped the three humanoid trees Rose remembered from last time. She’d only briefly seen them, and only really remembered Jabe, but still, she got mixed feelings seeing the beautiful flora woman. Knowing what was likely coming up, she felt an annoying surge of jealousy, recalling how she and the Doctor had flirted the entire time. And that had just been while she was still in the same room as them. But she also knew that last time, Jabe had died trying to save everyone here, trying to give the Doctor time to do… something that would put the shields back up. Knowing that she would die made her both sad and determined. She wouldn’t let that happen if she could help it. That was one of the perks of her being back here. She could try and fix things like this.

Maybe this time, Jabe didn’t have to die. There had to be something that she had missed, being trapped in that room most of the time, that could prevent her from giving her life. And, maybe, if she saved her and Jabe flirted with the Doctor again, she could have a go at her. The thought made her smile, getting to save a life and have a go at an annoyingly flirtatious tree.

The idea quickly fled her mind. The Doctor wasn’t exactly hers. As far as he was aware, they’d only just met. It wasn’t like she had any right to start going off at someone for flirting with him.

“There will be an exchange of gifts representing peace,” the steward went on, snapping her out of that little thought. “If you can keep the room circulating, thank you. Next, from the solicitors Jolco and Jolco, the Moxx of Balhoon.” The doors opened once more and in rolled the tubby blue pixie-like alien on his chair. He had been one of the people to die in the end if she remembered correctly. So many had died…

She listened as the steward continued to introduce all kinds of strange aliens, watching as they all filed through the doors. She vaguely remembered being overwhelmed last time, but this time she just felt her usual curiosity as she took in how different they were, storing away the questions that bubbled up about their species and where they were from, what was their planet like, how they did certain things when they were so different from humans.

She couldn’t help the small shudder that shook her when the Repeated Meme came in, knowing that Cassandra would use them to pull off her plan. She still remembered that they had attacked her. However, when the Face of Boe came in, she looked up hopefully. She had wanted to talk to the Face of Boe so badly. There had been so much she’d wanted to ask him last time she’d seen him, but she hadn’t been able to do anything because of bloody Cassandra taking over her body.

Beside her, she could practically feel the Doctor laughing at her reactions, and turned to see him grinning down at her. She narrowed her eyes at him, making him grin even wider. But they were interrupted from their silent conversation when Jable and her two companions stepped up to them and tilted her head in greeting.

“The gift of peace,” she said to them. “I bring you a cutting of my grandfather.” She reached behind her and grabbed a small pott with a twig growing in it from her companion and then handed it to the Doctor.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her, and then he handed the potted twig to Rose. “Yes, gifts… erm…” He patted down his pockets, not finding anything to give her. Not that a pat-down would do much good with the tech he’d sewn into those things, and if he dug his hand in, they’d probably be there forever. He was quite attached to the random things he shoved in his pockets. “I give you in return-”

“Three hairs from my head,” Rose cut him off, remembering what had happened last time. With her free hand, she reached up and plucked a few strands, twisting them into a neat loop and handed them to Jabe. Quick thinking wasn’t always her best talent, and the only thing that had come to her head was a scene from the first Lord of the Rings movie, where Gimli had asked for Galadriel’s hair as a parting gift.

“Thank you.” Jabe smiled at her, carefully taking the loop of hair and handed it to the companion on the other side of her, who then placed it in a bag. Then they moved on. She grinned as she watched them go, but as she turned back, she caught the look the Doctor was giving her.

“What?” she said indignantly. “She gave us something off a living person. At least I have enough hair!” The Doctor huffed and rubbed his hand over his short-cropped hair. She suddenly found herself wondering if he’d had more hair in his previous incarnation. After all, she knew he loved his hair in the next. “Besides,” she muttered, “it’s better than ‘air from your lungs’.”

At this, the Doctor’s brows rose, then drew together in confusion. He wondered what had made her say that? How could she have known that just before she had jumped in, that was exactly what he was going to say?

All too quickly, he was distracted from that thought when the next guest rolled up. “The Mox of Balhoon!” he cried in delight. He lent down a little so he was more on eye level with the blue alien. He didn’t even notice Rose creep beind him. She may not remember every detail of something that had happened years ago for her, but she vividly remembered what came next. It was a little too gross of a first impression to forget.

“My felicitations on this historical happenstance. I give you the gift of bodily saliva,” he chirped in reply. And with that, he spat… right into the Doctor’s eye.

Behind him, Rose burst into a fit of giggled, glad that it wasn’t her this time. “Thank you!” she laughed, popping her head over the Doctor’s shoulder and handing him some of her hair. Then, she immediately stiffened when the Mox of Balhood moved away and the Repeated Meme approached. With a tight expression, she stepped out from behind the Doctor and plucked three hairs from her head to give to them.

“Ah! The Adherents of the Repeated Meme,” the Doctor grinned. “I bring you hair frim my companion’s peroxide head.”

“Oi!” she cried indignantly as he grabbed the hairs from her and gave them to the Memes.

“A gift of peace in all good faith,” the leader rasped. It held out the silver ball that was its ‘gift’. The Doctor took it from them, tossing it in the air a moment, and then handed it to Rose. She was hesitant taking it from him, and held it almost gingerly in her hand, turning it around to look at it. She recalled that the Doctor had told her these were how Cassandra smuggled the spiders in. She hoped that there was a latch or some kind of button that she would be able to play around with and ‘accidentally’ let the spider out of the bag early. She couldn’t find one, the surface almost completely smooth, other than the lines etched in it. She assumed that they must be controlled to open on Cassandra’s end. She could probably get it open with the sonic, but the Doctor would most definitely get too suspicious if she just suddenly grabbed his beloved tool off him and instantly knew how to use it to open something that looked otherwise benign.

“And last, but not least,” the steward called out as the Memes moved off. “Our very special guest. Ladies and Gentlemen, and Trees and Multiforms. Consider the Earth below. In memory of this dying world, we call forth the Last Human. The Lady Cassandra O’Brien. Δ17!”

The doors once more slid open to reveal the flat stretch of skin on a frame with lipstick and eyes and a brain in a jar that was Cassandra, the ‘last human’. The Doctor looked down to watch Rose’s reaction, he was sure that she would be shocked and absolutely baffled that this was the last of her race, but what he saw instead surprised him. Rose barely looked shocked at all. Instead, she was glaring almost coldly at the woman, an expression that wavered as it seemed to battle it out with a look of sympathy. He was baffled by this, not entirely sure why she would react like that. Rose herself was a bit of a mystery he was intreaged to solve. She often seemed simple enough on the outside, but he could tell that there was something there, just below the surface…

“Oh, now, don’t stare,” Cassandra gushed. “I know, I know. It’s shocking, isn’t it? I’ve had my chin completely taken away and look at the difference! Look how thin I am!”

Rose’s eyes widened in disbelief. She knew that Cassandra was conceited and absoulty full of herself, but she had forgotten just how bad she bad been, especially this first time they’d met her. Even though she knew how things would turn out for the flap of skin, the way she talked was still enough to gall. She could feel the Doctor shaking with barely contained laughter beside her, and she reisted the urge to elbow him in the side. Sure, he’d think it was funny now… wait until that cow had possessed him and was talking about how ‘yum’ it was to be in his body. Rose was sorely tempted to fulfil one of her day dreams then and there, and run over to Cassandra, flip her on her… back? …and jump on her!

“Thin and dainty,” Cassandra went on. Rose had to clench her fists and force herself to stay still so she didn’t act out what was going through her mind out of sheer spite and annoyance. “I don’t look a day over two thousand! Moisterise me, moisterise me!” she muttered to the white suited men either side of her. One of them lifted his canister and sprayed her. “Truly, I am the Last Human. My father was Texan. My mother was from the Arctic Desert. They were born on the Earth, and they were the last to be buried in its soil. I have come to honour them and…” she gave a sniff, “say goodbye. Oh, no tears. No tears. I’m sorry.” One of the men wiped at her eyes, and though Rose was facing her ‘back’, she was fairly sure her eyes were dry as a bone. “But behold! I bring gifts from Earth itself. The last remaining ostrich egg…” A tiny blue Crespallian brought it in, and Rose eyed it warily. She had still been trapped in that room at the time, but the Doctor had told her that Cassandra had hidden some device inside it. “Legend says it had a wingspan of fifty feet and blew fire from its nostrils! …or was that my third husband?” There were a few laughs around the room, including the Doctor’s. Rose just rolled her eyes in grudging amusement. It was typical Cassandra. “Who knows? Oh, don’t laugh. I’ll get laughter lines!” Behind her, the staff wheeled in a jukebox and Rose had to suppress a grin, remembering the deluge of misinformation Cassandra was about to spill. It amused her to no end – now that she wasn’t so horrified and overwhelmed to appreciate it all – that Cassandra got so many things wrong about her own culture. Then again, she assumed that if she were to talk about the few items from Ancent Rome she’d known about in school, she probably would have sounded just as daft. Humans had always gone with whatever little knowledge they had and assumed the rest, taking it as fact. And the fact was that a lot of information was lost to history. “And here, another rarity. According to the archives, this was called an ‘iPod’. It stores classical music from humanity’s greatest composers. Play on!”

At her cue, someone started up the jukebox, and ‘Tainted Love’ by Soft Cell filled the room. As far as classical and ‘humanity’s greatest composters’ went, Rose was most certain that this was not one. In fact, she was pretty sure it was a one-hit-wonder. She rolled her eyes and grinned, watching as the Doctor did a little bobbing dance… and that was just too much. That really was the cherry on top!

Last time, she had just been so bewildered, so shocked, so overwhelmed, that she didn't notice much of what was going on. She couldn't properly appreciate all the things she had just seen. But this time she could. And she was realising just how much she had missed. Once more, the fact that she had a second chance to do this all again hit her with full force.

A laugh bubbled up within her, and she clapped her hand to her mouth to stop it. It didn’t do much to help, and soon she had burst out into hysterical giggles. The Doctor watched her, grinning in amusement, and soon he joined in, chuckling away with her.

But Rose couldn’t stop laughing, the giggle overtaking to the point that she just wanted to sit on the floor and laugh until she was done. Tears were starting to leak down her cheeks, and people were starting to stare at her. The Doctor was looking at her in confusion but still slightly amused. He looked like he was about to ask her what was so funny, so she raised a finger to him, then ran out of the room.

She ran out and down through all the halls until she found herself at the observation room she had been in last time. She was almost calm by the time she reached it, but then she saw a group of the tiny blue staff members pushing the TARDIS out the door and away somewhere, and she burst into a peal of fresh giggles. It wasn’t until later on in the TARDIS that she realised she hadn’t met the other blue woman, the space plumber this time.

It took her a while to calm down. Mostly because she kept thinking about how she was probably going a bit overbored, and it just seemed so ridiculous. It just made her keep laughing at herself. Why was she still laughing? It wasn’t that funny! God, something was wrong with her. Maybe being in the parallel universe and coming back in time by jamming her mind into her younger self’s body had made her insane…

When it came down to it, she didn’t much care.

 “What’s so funny?” the Doctor asked with a small chuckle of his own when he finally found her. He came and sat on the other side of the stairs, just like he had last time.

“Everything!” Rose gasped out. The laughter had died down now, but she was still yet to fully get her breath back, or shake the weird jitters that had come over her. “It’s just so blimmen incredible! Just this… it’s so…” Sighing, she layed back so she was lying on the ground, looking up at the ceiling, with her feet hanging over the edge, swinging slightly.

“You’re taking this all pretty well,” he commented. “Well, apart from that little hysterical breakdown back there.”

Rose let out a small laugh, covering her face in embarrisment. Oh god, what was she doing? She was supposed to be making it look like this was the first time she’d ever seen a big bunch of aliens. She should be asking more questions, being curious, acting amazed. If she didn’t, he would probably think she was a bit daft or start suspecting something. How many people had he shown the stars and all that came with it and they had just… accepted everything. Probably no one. She couldn’t be that person!

“There’s just… so many aliens!” she told him. “Like, alien aliens! Just days ago, I didn’t even believe in them. Like, yeah, I thought that there had to be a planet out there that could have some kind of like, but not like this! I used to think that people who believed in aliens like this were complete nutters! Now I’m the nutter… and I love it!” She turned her head to the Doctor and grinned at him. He smiled back at her, and she found the usual questions bubbling up within her. She’d always wanted to know more about his planet. He very rarely spoke of his home and his people, and she’d always felt too guilty to ask, knowing how much it hurt him. But those questions were there. And why not ask them? She should at least try and get him to tell her the basic stuff, so she didn’t end up slipping up and saying something before she was told. “So, where are you from, then?”

“All over the place,” he replied nonchalantly, streatching out a little.

Rose snorted, sitting up again. “That’s not an answer!” He clearly wasn’t okay with sharing more that than right now, and she wasn’t going to push him, but she didn’t want to give up on it either. Instead, she asked another question. One she already knew the answer to, so it would be important to get it out of the way. “Why are they all speaking English?” she asked. “I thought they’d be speaking… Tree-ish and stuff.”

“Tree-ish?!” the Doctor laughed. “Nah, they are speaking their language, you just hear English. It’s a gift of the TARDIS. Telepathic field gets inside your brain and translates.”

“Right…” She drew the word out. She knew better than to go mental time time. She had been upset she wasn’t asked last time, but now she knew better. Besides, the TARDIS was her friend, and now it was more than just the telepathic field affecting her. “So… you have a telepathic, sentient ship that can turn any language in the universe into the one that you speak?”

“Yep!”

“Right, because who doesn’t have one of those?” she said sarcastically.

“Ah, everyone but me,” he told her, quite obviously.

“And how come you get one?”

“Because it’s from my home planet.”

“And where’s that?” she asked excitedly. Sure, she knew the name of his planet… but that was all. At her question, though, the Doctor’s face fell and he floundered for a moment. She knew the mournful look in his eyes well, though she doubted anyone just meeting him would, and her heart broke for him. Doubt and guilt began to fill her mind. Maybe she shouldn’t do this. He was clearly upset about it and… and the same thing would happen all again. She had never asked because she didn’t want to upset him. But what if opening up about his home helped him. Having someone to share it with at least in some small way.

“It-it’s not like you’ll know where it is…” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. But can I at least get a name? I mean, let’s face it, Doctor, I know nothing about you… I kind of just ran away with a total stranger. So, where you from?”

The Doctor stared straight ahead for a good while, to the point that Rose was sure he wasn’t going to say anything. But just as she was about to say something else, he huffed out a breath and gave a harsh nod, as if trying to encourage himself to speak. “Gallifrey,” he finally croaked out. Rose’s brows rose in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to actually say it.

“Sounds pretty. Kind of Gaelic. So, you’re… Gallifreyan?”

“Yep,” he chuckled lowly. “But my people are called Time Lords.”

“Time Lords?”

“We were the first species to discover time travel. So, we sort of… govern over time. Prevent paradoxes and watch over the universe, observing everything.”

“What’s Gallifrey like?”

The Doctor took a deep breath. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she thought that this was when he was going to suddenly change the subject on her, so she was surprised when, again, he kept going. “Well, it’s beautiful,” he said quietly. She grinned at that, but then she noticed that he had said ‘it’s’ – as in, current tense – and her brow furrowed for a moment. She quickly plastered a gentle smile on her face by the time he turned to look at her. He was suddenly very expressive, using his entire body to tell her about the beauty of his planet. “The sky’s a burnt orange,” he told her wistfully. “With the Citadel enclosed in a might glass dome, shining under the twin suns. Beyond that, the mountains go on forever. Slopes of deep red grass capped with snow…” He trailed off, just remembering for a moment. And Rose’s heart broke as she realised what he was doing, the way he was speaking. He was pretending his planet and his people were all still there. He was using her ‘ignorance’ as an excuse to pretend, for just a moment, that the Time War hadn’t destroyed everything he had known and loved about his home planet. “The second sun rises in the south, and the mountains just shine. The leaves on the trees are silver, and when they catch the light every morning, it looks like a forest on fire. When autumn comes, the breeze blows through the branches like a song…” He faded off, staring out into the starscape before them.

Despite the sadness she could see in his eyes, Rose was left stating at him in wonder and awe. His home sounded beautiful. She’d never heard so much about it before, other than its name and the odd comment. But the way he described it was like poetry. She could almost see exactly what he described, high peaked, snow-capped mountains with red slopes, and the large house on the hills of Peridon, as if she’d plucked the very image from his mind.

“Can you take me there sometime?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, too caught up in the moment. She wanted to take them back right away, but really, she knew that it was a good thing she had. She was supposed to be clueless. If she didn’t know the truth, she most definitely would have asked that question.

“Nah!” the Doctor cried, jumping up and walking over towards the window, looking out at the dying planet before them. “Why would I want to go back there? So many more exciting planets to see. Besides, I don’t want to go home.”

If Rose hadn’t known he was lying, she would never have noticed the slight quiver in his voice. She knew him well enough to know that right now, with his back to her like that, he was trying to blink the tears from his eyes before they even fell. It was a realisation that shocked her. She had never seen him cry in this incarnation. She’d seem him close like this only a handful of times in both incarnations. It took a lot to make him cry, and the only time she knew for sure that he had was when she saw him cry just before he disappeared on Dårlig Ulv Stranden.

She got up, moving to comfort him, or do something that would snap him out of his mood without alerting him to the fact she knew he was upset. And seeing him like that, staring out forlornly at the dying planet, it suddenly struck her. She realised why he had brought her here. He may not have done it intentionally, but he had done it none the less. He brought her here so that she could feel the pain of watching her planet burn. So that someone could understand, at least a little, how he felt.

She kept forgetting how different he had been right at the beginning, their later adventures too ingrained in her mind. At this point in time, he was a broken man, fresh out of a war that had devastated a good part of the universe and taken everything from him. A man of pain, and anger, and bloodshed. He shied away from the violence he had been a part of for so long, but he was still so angry.

He was just so different. And not just different from his next incarnation, but different from how she remembered this him to be. He had seemed happier back then… or, well… would be happier soon…

Gently she laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small nudge and a smile. He seemed to accept the small comfort she gave and smiled tightly in return.

“Hey, we don’t have to go there if you don’t want to,” she told him, attempting to make it sound like she still didn’t have a clue. “No arguing with the designated driver, right?” He gave a small chuckle at this. Smiling at her success, she took out her phone in a futher attempt to distract him. “Besides, can’t exactly call for a taxi now, can I? There’s no signal. We’re out of range… Well, only by a few billion years.”

The Doctor chuckled again and finally turned to her, all signs of pain gone from his face. “Tell you what,” he said, grabbing the phone off her and fiddling about with it. “With a little bit of jiggery pokery…”

“Is that a technical term, ‘Jiggery pokery’?” she teased.

“Yeah, I came first in jiggery pokery. What about you?”

“Nah,” she laughed. “I took hullabaloo.”

“Did you pass?” he asked her.

“Do you think I’d be talking to you if I didn’t?”

He laughed. “Fair point. There you go.” He handed the phone back to her.

Hesitantly, Rose began to dial her mum’s number. She tried to summon the expression of utter wonder she likely had the first time she had done this. She was glad of the years she’d done theatre in school, even though it had been many years for her now.

The phone picked up. “Hello?” Jackie’s voice came down the line.

“Mum?” Rose said.

“Oh, what is it? What’s wrong?” she complained. “What have I done now? Oh, this red top’s falling to bits! You should get your money back. Go on! There must be something, you never phone in the middle of the day.”

Rose laughed, tears welling in her eyes. It was her mum. Her wonderful, silly mother! Back when she was still so innconcent. Before she knew about aliens and extrateriestiel threats. Before she started to fear for her daughter’s life. Before she was ripped from her own world and life. Before she had ever had to watch her daughter sobbing in heartbroken grief, or screaming from the pain of her migraines, or shaking as a seizure wracked her body…

“What’s so funny?” Jackie asked.

“Nothing! You alright, though?”

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking in, is all. Look, Mum, I just wanted to tell you, I might be away for a bit, yeah? A friend and I are going on a trip. Not too sure when I’ll be back.”

“Oh, where you going?”

“Oh, you know. Just here and there. Making it up as we go along.” She glanced at the Doctor with a grin.

“Alright then, you be safe, though, Love.”

“Yeah, I… I will, promise,” she told her, guilt tugging at her chest.

“You better… Is something wrong?”

“No! No, I’m fine! …Top of the world!” Beside her, the Doctor laughed quietly at her joke. She hung up and turned to him.

“Think that’s amazing, you want to see the bill,” he joked.

“That was five billion years ago,” she said. To be honest, despite the fact that she had used ‘universal roaming’ for years, the idea of it still left her a bit dazed. There were so few places that the signal didn’t work. No matter where they went in time and space, she had always been able to call home. Even now, it was just so incredible. There were some things about her life with the Doctor that she didn’t think she would ever get used to. “I just called my mum through time. This is… This is…” The Doctor looked at her in amusement, but was startled when she was suddenly in his arms the next moment, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

As she spoke the words, it occurred to her that she had never truly thanked him before. She had told him that she loved travelling with him, and how brilliant it was, that she would never have missed it for the world… but she had never once said ‘thank you’.

Hesitiatnly, the Doctor brought his arms up and hugged her back. “You’re welcome,” he told her. He didn’t think he’d ever had a companion quite like Rose Tyler. “You like hugs, don’t you?” he laughed.

Rose nodded into his shoulder, he could feel her smiling. And although he had never been the hugging type – or at least, he didn’t think he was, he hadn’t been hugged by many people in this incarnation – he found he quite liked this. He liked the feel of someone holding him, of Rose pressed against his… But he was not going to admit that, for many, many reasons.

Suddenly, they were jolted apart when the platform gave a huge, jerking shudder. The Doctor looked at her and then around the room. “That’s not supposed to happen,” he said. Excitement began to stir within him and a wide grin spread across his face. He lived for adventure. It had been a part of his life for so long that it encouraged him. It drove him on. And he could see something in Rose’s eyes that told him that she was the same. He’d seen that same driving curiosity the first time he’d met her.

“Honoured guests may be reassured that gravity pockets may cause slight turbulence, thanking you,” the steward said over the speaker.

His eyebrows rose at that and he turned to her excitedly. “Come on. Let’s go.” And then, with her hand in his, they ran from the room.

Author Note:

Again, this was such a fun one to play around with. I loved working in their natural banter in a bit of a different way, and showing how much more confident in herself Rose has become since she first met the Doctor. I could also see her trying to push for things in ways she didn’t originally, and being better at defusing tension. Which led to her conversation with the Doctor about Gallifrey. I could really see him pretending they were still around, like he had with Martha. But since it’s all so fresh for him and the implications of their trip, he would probably be desperate to pretend, if only for a moment.

Word count from 4,937 to 7,317words (8 → 12 pages).

Chapter Index  |  First Chapter  |  << Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter >>

[aenslem]

Doctor Who Tag Game

Tagged by: @thirteenstardisfam thank youu and i am so sorry it is so super long lmao i did not mean too, but somehow ended up with it, and also i think i will make fandom hate me for some stuff about 11, but i love him! don’t you dare to think otherwise :’D

im tagging: @tennant @luke-skywalker @panlyra @stupidape @buffyrosenbergs @expelliarmus idk who of you whovians wanna do it out there feel free to say i tagged you and go on ;)

Favourite Doctor:  still Ten, i love 12 and 13 almost as much, even if not harder atm, but if it comes to choosing 1 fav doctor then it’s always Ten, so far no one stepped higher for me :’D I loved his era, i loved so many episodes with him, his season arcs, his companions, his relationships with everyone, and this is the only Doctor whose regeneration was smooth for me, he was continuation of Ninth Doctor and it felt like that. I was not like ‘but he is so different in so many ways’ nope, never. Maybe it’s because companions were the same, everyone was still around which was great btw, and I fell in love with the show with Tenth Doctor, dare I say that I stopped watching back then when Matt Smitt became doctor? lmao, must be shock for some but yes, I dropped this show because of THAT lmao??now i laugh at my own self but yeah, i did. where’s everyone, why it feels so different? that was huge nope. Only years later I got back into it, thanks to amazing Michelle Gomez. Actually I was not even going to watch other doctors at that moment, but I watched episodes only with Missy, then i said well it’s not bad I like it and Missy and Twelve were?? OOOF LOVES OF MY LIFE FOR SURE because their relationship were so cool and of course i loved it, so i started a huge rewatch, the first since i dropped the show. Fell in love with Doctor/Master all over again, Ten was as amazing as I remembered, Nine was perfect and I love him too!!! and then... i got to s5... oh god, i was like, let’s give him a chance, what do i lose? but it still felt so weird, and the show was so different, and suddenly everyone else is so important but where are old characters? but i got into it because i have already seen some of 12′s episodes and i got used to the style?? i guess. and then River appeared, not because of her but around episode 5 or 6 i was into it already, not as much as i was before but anyway, maybe weeping angels helped because i loved them and it reminded me of Ten, i felt some kind of a connection to old doctor. I liked River with 10, i thought i will like her with 11 too... but alas, still felt like you know those boys who have never had sex but try to act like they know everything about it and hit on every moving thing and think they do it cool? :D i am sorry if i hurt someone’s feelings with it, but that’s how 11 was for me back then, and while I do understand river/11 it’s the least of all river ships for me, 11 is still the least fav doctor because of those feelings i had back then when i stopped watching, they are not rational i know that now but still feel them, but i love him now, and will protect that kid at all costs! i love ponds, i will kill if anyone says anything bad about Rory Williams! and Amy and Rory? quoting my favorite star trek couple? DUDE WE GO TOGETHER OR NOT AT ALL!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! and even if i was not into all river/11 relationship i loved the story, and of course i liked 12, but s8 still feels like what the hell for me, not because of the doctor but because they tried so hard to show clara as bossy, i mean, i liked her with 11 and then suddenly they turn her into some control freak, it was not so MUCH with 11... but i know now why they did it, so Missy’s words have an effect and all. but still, i love clara before and after s8 :’D s9 clara? i will kill for her too. it’s too long but idk  :’D and actually, this shows that if you give it a chance even if you don’t like actor/actress at first - you might love the show ;) so stop acting like jodie is miscast honestly, i am ready to fight anyone for saying that :D say whatever you want about plot choices, but do not fucking act like it’s Jodie’s fault! actors are not responsible for show runner choices. She acts amazing with the material she has. anyway, 10 is my fav idiot!

Favourite Master: Missy, always was and always shall be. My favorite character in general in the show, no one tops my girl!

Favourite Sonic: honestly? i don’t really remember any sonic but 12′s glasses :D so... glasses. I mean, i don’t really care how it looks like, it does its job... most of the time lmao, but i liked those glasses and the thing with browser history was my fav :D

Favourite Companion: oh it’s soooo hard!!! either Donna or Bill. I can’t choose. but yeah, those are both with whom there were no ‘romantic’ relationship implied, i love friends more than couples. and I just loved 10 and Donna as a team and Bill and 12, i still wish they had more time. also Martha, the smartest companion lol she was amazing.

Favourite Story: anything involving The Master :D all episodes with them are my favs, but i can’t just pick one story, i still remember the first episode i watched back when it was airing and are you my mummy stuck in my head for the rest of my life giving me brrrr feeling, like it was not scary but somehow made me super uncomfortable? also vashta nerada?? duuuuude, you can’t just look at the shadow the same way. and ten/river together were really great, i mean, he did not know who is she, the mystery, i love shit like that?? yeesss!!!!! there are so many great ones. I don’t want to choose.

Favourite Soundtrack: that unreleased tiny melody when the master dies in the last of the time lords T--T and this is gallifrey and clara’s theme! those are my favs. and I also really like 11′s theme, kinda ready for adventures and doing some weird but funny shit :D

Dream Actor for next Doctor: ooooof OOOOF dude! you know what, usually it is one actor for 3 seasons, that’s how it was for the last 3 doctors, i want Jodie to break that rule and stay with us for 4th season as well, i just want to see how pissed off those haters will be lmao i really really think the entire timeless child thing will not feel the same with someone else yet, and i don’t think they will reveal much in 13th season, that’s HUGE thing, or they should make it so good and the next doctor... aaah i don’t want to feel that change again, like i did with 10 to 11, and felt with the every next doctor, but i overcome that shit and just give them a chance, it’s the doctor after all and im sure loving all of them now. not sure it can disappoint me even if most of plot choices in the season are ... weak. idk who, there are so many great actors but whoever i choose will not be as great as someone they choose, because they always somehow cast amazing people, but i agree with emily it’s time for a doctor of color! tho, they can’t go back to white male actor right now, i just can imagine how it will look like, with all the hate Jodie received and how people still whine about female doctor, it will look like they tried and decided to go back to white male doctors, one half will be happy but the other one will eat them alive! so yeah, i am pretty sure it’s not gonna be white man again yet lol

Dream Composer: idk

Dream Story: well, considering 13 is in jail now, i would love to see someone “we know” rescuing her, because honestly if they just showed me jack and left it like that, i will not accept it!!! but also since yaz will be the only one left with the doctor, since bradley and tosin leave the show, i hope we will have some yaz and doctor relationship development without anyone else, maybe jack could stay because i love him, but jack’s presence did not hurt doctor and rose relationship development back then, so it should not hurt now also. but if they bring someone new, at least don’t make it right away, let yaz and 13 have an adventure at least 1 episode, some talk and stuff. so when yaz leaves also... (and i kind of had that stupid feeling that yaz will die in the end, because somehow everything hints on that for me? idk maybe it’s because i rewatched and giffed orphan 55 today and vilma (?) telling yaz to run and stay alive kinda felt like something that hints on yaz’s future... and yaz is always going somewhere without thinking, to random alien ship, to save the doctor, she steps into trouble like a doctor hoping everything will somehow be ok, but im not even sure she hopes, it’s more like i am as good as her so i can do it, not in clara’s way when everything hinted she is like the doctor, because let’s be honest she was and even got her own tardis, but she thinks she is, but she is not, i think some day that might end bad for her... so when she also leaves i don’t want it be like well yeah, what’s next? i mean, i still miss Bill, that was like NOOOOOO with tears and screams for me, i loved Bill! and we had 2 seasons with yaz and i still don’t feel the same connection to any of the current companions atm, so i would like the show to make me love them more, i do love them, just not as much as those i still miss, but im sure defending any of them lmao i love them anyway. you know what i mean...

A Companion You’d like to see back: oh OH. we cant bring them back for entire season right? but doctor can meet Donna at some point, which will have no point lmao cos she doesn’t remember and it will only hurt doctor and i don’t see how her appearance will help any plot, it will be just fanservice cameo. But Bill is out there with Heather, they are powerful creatures now, i think it could somehow fit into the story, I want Bill back. But also, Clara is still one heartbeat away from death, she can be out there, and she has tardis. tiny cameos will be fine for me :D and Martha, but also Madam Vastra and Jenny, Kate and Osgood, where they are??? bring them back and it can make sense, their appearances. I mean, imagine someone from UNIT in s11, not unit itself but osgood??? it would feel so much different. 

An Enemy/Alien/Creature you’d like to see again: weeping angels!!!! OOOF they were creepy, and i love them, like, DON’T BLINK!!! how can you not blink for so long? that is cool, i want them back. and also the most beautiful shots are always with angels so... :’D

If you could travel with one of the Doctors, which Doctor and why?: oooh, while 10 is my fav, and I totally would hit on 13 :D i will choose 12, 12 from season 10, because he was such a grandpa, no lovey dovey stuff, he would lecture me on thing i do, give me new info about something, we would explore shit together and he would be like a grandpa i never had. We would definitely have long discussions about stuff and have good laugh together and i would make references to movies and then we would watch those movies :D i would act like Bill lmao yess i want to travel with 12!!!

[mobius-prime]

192. Sonic the Hedgehog #124

Sonic Adventure 2.5: Λlphλ

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: J. Axer and Steven Butler Colors: Jason Jensen

All right everyone, we've finally made it to the "Endgame" of the fourth era! While it's not quite as epic and game-changing, this story, spanning this issue and the next, alters the setting and the plot quite a bit, and also sees the return of Shadow the Hedgehog, whom we only got to see a quick cameo of back in Sonic Adventure 2. Also, amusingly, the word "Alpha" in the title is actually spelled with the Greek letter Lambda, not the actual letter Alpha. I know it's for the Aesthetic™ and all, but it's still funny. But anyway, let's jump in and see what this era's finale has in store for us!

So first, we learn the story of how Shadow survived his fall from orbit. Turns out, he didn't actually fall at all! Before he entered the atmosphere, he was caught in a beam from an alien spaceship, and brought aboard.

Well now, isn't this interesting! These are the same aliens that transformed Eggman and Snively back to their organic forms a few issues ago. It seems they're quite interested in meddling in the affairs of the planet, for whatever reason, and now they're using Shadow as a method of escaping from a second spaceship full of different aliens who appear to be quite aggressive. Shadow tries to fight back against them, but the ship hits him with an energy beam, and he begins to lose consciousness once again, falling back towards the atmosphere just as before. Meanwhile back in Knothole, Sonic wakes up, seemingly excited about something big today. He races to Knothole Castle where he kisses Sally hello, the two now openly dating now that they've admitted their true feelings for each other. She asks him if he's ready to "pop the question," to which he says he… is… wait, what question is this, Sally?! You can't mean…

At the same time, in Station Square, the president finds himself contacted by Eggman, who tries to make him a deal to become allies in exchange for advanced technology and protection. Of course, he's trying to propose an alliance to the same people who literally nuked his city because they didn't like him, so this goes about as well as you expect. Naturally, Eggman doesn't like this response one bit.

Rouge swoops in to save the president and his driver as the car careens into a river, but just as they think they've escaped danger, the entire false sky above the city shatters under the attack from a mysterious foe… But before we find out who has done this, it's time to find out what question Sonic is supposed to be asking.

…okay, honestly, this is just bizarre to me. I get that absolute monarchies tend to want to marry their heirs off young to secure alliances, but really? These two haven't even properly dated yet, beyond a little these past months (as at least a couple months are implied to have passed since Sally's kidnapping), and now at the age of sixteen they're planning a future wedding? This entire bit seems so weirdly out of character for both Sally and Sonic, if you ask me. The comic has flirted with the idea of marriage between the two in the past, but that was mostly during the earlier issues when each story was only focused on being silly and telling a funny, self-contained story. Obviously, these two have had a deep crush on each other for years now, and have a lot of chemistry in their own way, but a de facto engagement between the two of them is just strange. Sally is much more pragmatic than that, having broken off a potential relationship once before in favor of focusing on her official duties, and as for Sonic, we've been directly shown before that he's flighty, afraid of commitment, and generally prefers casual friendships to heavily romantic relationships. Now, this might make more sense if you instead view it as an announcement of convenience, a plot concocted by the both of them to get Sally's parents off her back about being married off to a "suitable partner" as the future ruler of the kingdom. If it were portrayed this way, then maybe I could give this a pass. But we're given no such inkling that it's anything other than exactly what it appears to be. And that, to me, makes this plot point a completely bizarre departure from the usual attitudes of both these characters to romance and relationships. Even weirder, as we'll see, this doesn't even affect the plot of the comic at all in future issues - while there's a reference to it here and there, it's nothing plot-important and could have easily been written out without much trouble.

Anyway, Sonic runs out to investigate the boom only to find Shadow lying in a crater outside the castle. Man, lucky for him that he just so happened to land here instead of literally anywhere else, huh? Sonic approaches him and Shadow lashes out in confusion, knocking Sonic aside, before coming to and apologizing. All this does is rile Sonic up and he tries to attack Shadow in retaliation. Really, Sonic? You thought Shadow was freaking dead, and the moment you see him again you try to punch his lights out? Sally, luckily, steps in to reprimand him for his behavior, and Nicole contacts her, telling her there's an emergency message for them back at the castle. The Freedom Fighters, along with Shadow, follow her back in, where both Eggman and Rouge contact the royal family simultaneously, each claiming their cities have been attacked by an overwhelmingly strong foe. Shadow confirms that this is likely an attack from the same vessel he had just been fighting, but then… something happens. A telepathic message spreads out across the globe, echoing in the minds of every single sentient being on the planet, demanding the attention of the "inhabitants of planet Earth…"

Well, this is bad. And now, they're back to finish what they started… Eggman panics and tries to immediately get King Max to agree to an alliance of convenience, but Max cuts him off without another word, justifying his actions to his shocked onlookers as making sure Eggman is good and ready to accept a truce on his terms by making him sweat a bit first. Sonic expresses confusion that the aliens seem to be confusing Mobius with another planet called Earth, but they get a call from Angel Island at that moment where Locke offers his assistance. Of course the Freedom Fighters ask about Knuckles, and he sorrowfully informs them that he's dead. They're shocked and saddened, but don't have time to mourn, as they have to prove the Xorda wrong about their planet. Sally begins some research into the history of the planet, but Hope unexpectedly steps forward, offering her own insight into how the Xorda ended up here in the first place.

Oh boy, Shadow, I sense we're going to have some emotional turmoil over Hope in our future. Also, I just wanna note that this issue claims that the Xorda were last here three thousand years ago, but future issues retcon this into twelve thousand years. Anyway, Sally soon discovers something shocking in her research… Mobius and Earth are, in fact, the same planet!

This. Is. It! This is the big reveal that I've been so carefully dancing around for almost two hundred issues! I have been meticulously wording every reference to Mobius being an "Earth-like planet" to be spoiler-free but also totally accurate in the light of this reveal. Yes, ladies, gents and enbies, the Archie Sonic preboot takes place twelve thousand years into our own future. The first Xorda invasion was, in fact, the first recorded Day of Fury, which is why it's recorded as having wiped out nearly all life on the planet. And this is also the origin of the split between five fingered humans, and four fingered Overlanders. The humans survived underground, unaffected by the gene bombs dropped by the Xorda, while the Overlanders are the result of, essentially, re-evolved humans that were affected by the gene bombs. And as for Mobians? Well, we are talking about a weapon called a gene bomb, so Mobians obviously came about through severe mutations caused by said bombs, eventually becoming the dominant species of the planet! This is why the planet's continents look very similar to those of Earth, with the differences easily explained by not only twelve thousand years of continental drift, but the massive geographical alterations that such a dramatic cataclysm would have caused on the planet. All those old references to previous Earth civilizations exist because those things actually happened, even if the people making said references no longer know what the Confederate States were, or who the Aborigines were. I know this reveal wasn't particularly liked by a lot of readers, and certainly without the context of the previous two hundred issues it sounds downright absurd (hell, even with the context it kind of does), but in the end my personal opinion is that this was a bit of a masterstroke on Karl's part. It's a great way to tie a lot of old plot threads together and develop a more cohesive and solid history for Mobius as a planet, and ultimately provides us with a more clear timeline of events for the various races and civilizations of the world. And it's all thanks to a species of creepy vengeful Mother Brain octopus alien things deciding to commit genocide!

Afterlife (Part Four)

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Art Mawhinney Colors: J. Jensen

So, Kenders. With the big milestone issue fast approaching, is there anything you wanna add in this next installment of Afterlife? Like, perhaps, finally addressing what exactly is supposed to, y'know, happen in the afterlife? Knuckles certainly wants to know, having spent the last two issues doing nothing but reliving his entire previous life verbatim. Aurora explains that though he feels it's unfair that he died, it was unavoidable, as he simply came into his power too quickly and couldn't temper it or learn to control it quickly enough to pull off his saving-Dimitri stunt without essentially going supernova.

This part actually does interest me, because Knuckles' reaction implies that until now, the fact of his death hasn't fully sunken in. He seems to be under the impression that he can come back from it and just resume his life where he left off, instead of traveling onward into the next phase of life. Aurora apologizes and explains that everyone only gets one chance at life, and beckons him toward the mystical portal to the Chaos Force. Knuckles requests only one more thing, to become his normal red self once more, and when Aurora gently corrects him that he doesn't need her help for that, he finds himself instantly back to his old color scheme with a mere thought, which raises the minor question of whether he would have been able to revert back to red all along, or whether it's due to the malleable nature of existence in the afterlife that he's able to do so now. Regardless, the reign of Green Knuckles over the comic's B-stories has finally ended, and Rad Red steps into the portal, ready to claim his destiny. And thus, we get ready to say goodbye to our favorite echidna once and for all, as he takes his place amongst the… wait, hang on a second…

Good old Athair! I missed you, buddy. Aurora tries to argue that Knuckles should still advance forward into the Chaos Force, but Athair merely frowns and crosses his arms, leaving the ending of this story ambiguous… and ripe for a true conclusion next issue, as we hit another major milestone in the history of the comic!

[blankdblank]

Loki Baby Pt 11

@theincaprincess​, @alishlieb​, @lilith15000​

Changed and tucked in ready for bed your father smirked heading up to his usual room glad to have a full bed and your company again past video chats and saved recorded messages sent through your systems to keep up to date on each other’s adventures and progress. While you stood in your kitchen setting the wine glasses on the drying rack after rinsing them off. Behind you Loki stood looking you over adoringly only to hear K9 ask, “Am I allowed to sleep in your room or will you be requiring privacy, Bluejay?”

Smirking at the wall while Loki’s cheeks heated up in a growing blush you answered in a giggle, “No privacy necessary. Sleep where you wish K9.”

In a turn he said excitedly, “I shall meet you upstairs then.” Trotting to the stairs he bounded up like a giant bunny to his fainting couch at the foot of your bed.

Loki wet his lips and when you turned to peer up at him said, “I should let you get off to sleep.” Then turned to head to the door.

“If you like.”

Pausing for a moment he said, “See you at breakfast, Miss Pear.”

“See you at breakfast, Prince Loki.” The title made him flinch against his urge to race back to you. He would head off to bed alone aching to be near you, he would wait till breakfast and lie there smirking to himself as he scrolled through the social feeds on his phone packed with rumors and edited pictures of the pair of you and K9. A future he never expected to find on this planet unfolded in front of him all the brighter for the fuller look of your history. Now he could see why his mother had been instantly taken with you, instantly supportive.

In his social wandering you did some of your own in changing to a pair of shorts. Climbed onto your bed you set the phone aside and grinned at K9 contently sprawled across his couch settling into his first information update and full system check for the night resembling twitches and night runs like a real dog. As you closed your eyes you pulled up the covers and tried to keep your dreams from wondering what nightmare Steve had unleashed knowing what you had to do before to calm the Reapers, and what unthinkable things you would have to do again. For the innocence your title gave off it held a weight darker than if it had been a crow, often dubbed by others a Reaper in your own right tasked to determining who lives and dies to save the universes and cease the rage of the healing creatures. If Tony didn’t hate you now he surely might later when he realizes what you had to do, with very good reason.

.

Classic and sleek a black dress coated in red roses in a 40’s style synched top crossing your bust for the straps and a bell like layered skirt you dressed adding black platform heels a bit more pinupish than close to the era but kept you close to Loki’s height. Half pulled back your curls slicked easing your simple makeup on to finish the look. With purse in hand you ensured you had your trusty green gnome statues and your sonic screw driver and pen alongside your mini blaster gifted from your father.

Into the hall on the second floor you smirked seeing your father in his service uniform and his widening smile saying, “There you are Pumpkin. Fabulous as always.”

“I could say the same about you. Dare say you might be the talk of the town by morning. Your blues always weaken the knees.” You said looping your arm in his offered elbow making his grin spread matching yours.

“Can’t wait to see the guys again. And to see off Timothy, great guy.”

“Amazing arms.” Making your father chuckle deeply in your trot down the steps.

Breakfast was over and in a black suit Loki was smoothing his hand over his tie peering up at the pair of you in stating, “K9 was asking if he might be able to attend.”

“For what I know usually we don’t bring pets to funerals unless they are the deceased’s.”

Jack patted K9’s head, “It’s ok little guy, we’ll take you out after, alright?”

K9 nodded, “Affirmative. There was a database I was meaning to delve into further. This shall allow me ample time.” Eagerly he turned to hurry back to your study making you smirk and see Loki join you towards the door.

.

A short drive later and the jaguar parked and you joined the countless others in entering into the church. Along the way giving a weak grin to Pietro. Who patted the arm of the other surviving member of the platoon next to him starting up a ripple of grins and subtle nods on your way to approach Timothy’s children who stared at you and Jack in awe.

“You look-,” sharply his son let out a breath, “Just like in the pictures. Like your Mom and Dad.”

Jack shook his hand, “Your father was a great man.”

Timothy, “He would have been glad to see you’ve come. He had such great impossible stories about your parents,”

“I imagine he has. We’ve heard more than a few of our own about him.”

At your side Loki smoothed his hand more around your side in your step away to claim your seat, feeling your body tensing in the gentle lies. Their parents would know the truth but to their children you were no more than stories, impossible stories with living faces to remind them of you.

Bucky came next to fill his seats with Sam, Rhodey, Tony and Thor here to support the fallen soldier. Silently Natasha took his side after slipping past a group of others peering around only to pause for a moment locking eyes with your father who Bucky’s face dropped in seeing once he had sat down. Thor’s eyes scanned over from his brother to the pictures propped up, including one with you in a uniform in the middle of a city you had helped them dismantle a buried bomb, making the blonde look at you again. Loki’s gaze caught his eye and a smirk ghosted across the blonde’s lips hearing through their mental exchange just what race you were while his fingers tangled with yours on your lap.

The service began and stories flowed out ending with his son repeating, “One lesson that always stuck with me, was my father saying, ‘Fear is a four letter word that I refuse to cower to.’ Now this was coming from a man who shrieked at the sight of a massive beetle crawling over his hand helping me to build a go cart when I was a kid.” Making the crowd chuckle, “He was absolutely terrified, just like so many boys when they signed up, but one madwoman,” he let out a weak chuckle stealing a glance at you making the men holding your hands grip them tighter. “With a blue box, who saved a town from a buried bomb. She was terrified but she kept on, and then dropped and entire platoon in the middle of a bog,” making you chuckle to yourself and glance away in a sniffle muffled by laughs in the crowd.

.

Miles of green with statues mingled between. On foot behind the casket you filed around the grave holding your open purse for you and your father to press your thumbs to the base of the gnome statues that zapped themselves onto headstones in the distance across from angel statues. Curiously Loki whispered, “Sensors?”

Lowly you whispered back, “Guards against Weeping Angels.”

Quietly you stood through the rest of the burial and smirked accepting the invitation of Pietro to meet with the other soldiers for lunch. Bucky however crossed your path with arms crossed saying, “Alright, cough it up. How the hell are you still alive?”

Smirking to himself your father paused and asked with a splitting grin, “I’m sorry, have we met? I’m certain I’d remember a handsome face like yours.”

Bucky’s brows twitched together in Sam’s quick glance away at your downward glance and smirk in a joint way to keep from giggling, “Can it. I know you got the Super Serum now who gave it to you?”

In Bucky’s step closer Jack’s smile turned devilish and he purred back, “Super Serum, is that a euphemism for something or are you hitting on me?”

At that Sam covered his mouth in his full chortle making Bucky’s poking Jack’s chest only adding a challenging glint to his eye, “I’m not falling for that! I know your game Jack Harkness! You can bat your eyes all you like but you won’t fool me!”

Jack, “Junior.”

Bucky, “What?”

“Jack Harkness Junior.” He replied cockily and Bucky’s brows tightened again, “I’m not usually one for frowns but with eyes like that-,”

Bucky, “Not gonna work. Didn’t work in the 40’s not gonna work now, Buddy.”

Jack chuckled, “Buddy, I can work with Buddy.” Flashing him a wink.

Bucky, “Listen, I know it’s you, and I know for a fact if my friend Steve was here he could help me out in uncovering your lie!”

Jack, “And where is this Steve fellow, sounds mighty handsome.”

At that you giggled to yourself tapping your forehead to Loki’s arm in a glance away while Tony looked over your father running his face through his database once again. Bucky, “He’s back in the 40’s.”

Jack smiled wider, “A time traveler you say? Gee how is that possible?”

Bucky, “Oh can it! Your, daughter, SHE knows about time travel!” He said pointing at you then back to Jack, “And you haven’t aged a day! Now who are you working with and why did you send her here?”

In the momentary narrowing of his eyes Jack replied, “Be very careful what you say about Jaqi. I’m not working for anybody, I have no clue what any super serum is, and I don’t appreciate what you are insinuating.” In a pat on Bucky’s shoulder he stated with a widening smile, “Now, Jaqi, Loki and I were invited out to lunch.”

Bucky, “So was I.”

Jack fired back, “Then perhaps your manners will improve over lunch. Maybe bring out that dazzling smile of yours.” His hand folded around yours and with him you joined him on the walk to back to the car for the drive over.

.

Lounged back in your seat you relaxed at your table between visits from Bucky trying to catch Jack in a lie only to slink away allowing you to dip back into your stories with the men and their old days. Hours you kept the men company, though the eventual slip of Natasha into an empty seat had a hushed round of questioning for the man who looked so familiar from her escape from the people who had taken her and turned her into what she had become. It was just a stolen glimpse but his face was etched into her mind and she had to know who he was and why she could never find out who he was.

‘Close your eyes. Just close your eyes. Just for a moment.’ His voice lingering in her mind since returning from the past, hoping that she could go back to see who he was. How he gave her his coat and a bundle of food at a safe distance and backed away pointing her to safety. The only ally she knew as a child. The only one not wanting anything, acting simply out of kindness. You were now more the mystery to her as for how you were truly linked to his life, not truly caring if you were immortal like the Princes or not, merely wondering, why her?

.

A stolen glance at your phone had you smirking and Pietro across from you said, “I know that look.”

In a giggle you smiled and stole a glance at your father, saying, “Only one way to truly send Timmy off in style.”

Jack’s smile doubled, “Yes, I am in. Tonight, perfect timing.”

In your glance at Loki his eyes looked over your face at you asked, “Up for Swan Club tonight?”

Geoff across from you said, “Oh I haven’t heard that in ages.”

Pietro flashed Loki a wink, “Don’t forget, young Prince, blue suit.”

Loki chuckled and gave a nod, “How could I forget.” Lifting his glass for a sip as you took one from yours.

Natasha looked Jack over asking, “Swan Club?”

Jack smirked replying, “This little hole in the wall out in Italy.”

Natasha looked to you and Loki, “You’re going to Italy tonight? Isn’t that a 9 hour flight?”

Pietro answered for you, “Oh, just a figure of speech.” Her eyes shifted to him, “See, a bomb fell on it back in 44.”

Natasha, “Oh, so it’s like a, surrogate, thing? Pick a new ‘Swan Club’ to call your own?”

Jack, “Exactly. Hard to relive the old days when the old days are, well,”

Geoff, “Old,” he added with a chuckle the others joined in on.

Pietro said after a glance at his watch, “Best get a move on. Oh, Pears, save me a dance.”

You and Jack replied, “Always do.”

While you slid to get up Loki slid with you and watched Jack slip Natasha his number saying lowly, “If you want to talk later, here’s my number.”

In a glance at the number she held it up saying, “This isn’t a phone number.”

Jack turned with a grin, “How do you know if you don’t give it a try?” Flashing her a wink making her head tilt a moment in his turn away and her gaze dropping back to the number.

.

“Blue suit.” Curiously Loki looked over his suit and tried to hold back his anxiousness at having to swing dance. He had been using your databases to try and learn but the flailing bouncing dance seemed to put him ill at ease. Slow dances, structured, that was what he was taught on Asgard, not bounding nonsensical mortal dances. It was terrifying to think he might make a fool of himself in front of you, he was a Prince, not a clown and he hated to think he might be the object of your mockery. Decades he suffered through the mockery of those on Asgard he hated to think you might be added to that list.

“Don’t you look snazzy.” Turned around Loki looked you up and down, clad all in a mint flowing dress to the knee, the straps wrapping across you chest and torso cinching it around your figure. With a hand propped on your hip in your lean against the door frame splitting a grin across his lips, “Don’t forget the hat.”

Playfully he purred back turning to grab it, “How could I forget?” Hat in hand he turned to join you asking as you straightened up in your more comfortable dancing shoes for the era, “This is fun for you? Swan Club, so soon after losing your friend?”

The concern flooding into his eyes making you reach up to brush a strip of his hair behind his ear deepening his gaze, “Over a thousand years I have seen these people come and go, but they never leave, not truly. You catch glimpses when you least expect it.” In adjusting his tie you asked, “Are you ready to dance?”

“I have studied, though I doubt I will be any good.”

Softly you giggled and straightened up claiming his hand, “Prince Loki, it’s dancing in wartime, no one is any good.”

All the way down again you went into the bunker, finding your Tardis there already humming and ready to go. Widely your father was smiling in his trot down to join you in a yellow suit, “You are going to love this.”

Hopping through the door you smiled seeing K9 trotting through the Tardis door at your side leading the way to the control panel with Loki after you as Jack closed the door. A simple flick of a switch and a few twisted knobs later you stepped to the round scrolling navigator saying, “Come on Precious, let’s fly.” Rolling around the dial flashed blue and white while Gallifreyan symbols flashed on the screen luring Loki closer.

To your side he strode and in the shimmering central column of the flight your father joined you saying, “I am so glad you figured out how to fly without that gasping whirring sound Doctor’s Tardis makes.”

“Well, he learned how to fly it by trial and error. I learned from the best.”

Not a minute later while you explained it all to Loki the column stilled and with his taking your hand Jack led the way. Out from a back alley you were parked in and after closing the door the Tardis shrunk to a circular pendant on an unbreakable chain that looped around your neck painted with a bluejay on it.

Down the street you strode following the sound of music while Loki took in the city feeling a grin ease across his face. All around you groups of soldiers flocked around you calling out for you and Jack widening your grins greeting them in return. Entering the stone coated building through the doors opened for you by a guard smirking at you and your father as if unable to choose who he likes more who then looked over Loki approvingly until he saw his hand laced in yours. K9 remained inside the Tardis readying for the stops you said you were making after.

The music got louder as you went down the zig zagging steps through lingering soldiers and girls all the way to a packed table that called out your names in arriving. Each and every man, now back in their stunning primes in the pictures from earlier including Timothy, who claimed your hand to kiss your knuckles. “There you are Songbird, knew you wouldn’t miss Geoff’s birthday.”

“I would never.”

Jack claimed a spot eyeing the poker game, “I’m in next hand,” pulling a folded set of bills from his pocket.

Glancing between you and Loki Pietro asked, “Who’d you bring Songbird? Didn’t know you had a fella.”

Resting your hand on his bicep you said, “This is Prince Loki.”

Introductions bled into drinks being ordered and barely five minutes in Geoff stood and called you to the floor with an offered hand. Settled back in his seat Loki’s eyes remained fixed on you in your dance that bled into five more while the men chatted around him asking about his own travels. More and more he could see the men affected by your charms, the genetic allure you must have inherited from your father so easily allowing you to charm those around. Tightly his chest clenched in nursing his drink when his gaze dropped to the table at another slid of your partner’s hand across the small of your back guiding you through another giggle shared hop to start a joint step away, arms sliding together to start another spin to come together again. Sharply he inhaled and raised his glass for another sip holding back the shift of his eyes while his jealous rage stirred at the heavying of your natural scent in your bubbling joy.

For a moment his eyes shut only to open at the hands sliding across his chest from behind and by his ear he heard you saying, “Come on Prince Loki,” at the slide of your hands up hooking your fingers under his jacket you eased back signaling his arms to slide out. Leaving it on the back of the chair he stood at your setting his hat on the table in taking his hand, not twenty feet later his eyes turned from the crowds around you to you in the loosening of his tie and undoing of his top shirt button locking his eyes on yours.

“I do not wish to make you look foolish.”

His gaze locked on you stirring his grin a bit wider in your spreading smirk at the start of the next song after a moment’s pause for the band to catch their breath you said, “What good is a King if he can’t play the fool from time to time? Come be foolish, just a half step past reason.”

“This is your idea of reasoning me into this?”

“Ooh, no, Prince Loki. This is me corrupting you.” Breathily he laughed and your hand rose to give him a gentle nudge forcing him back only to tug him closer starting his timid first try at the awkward dance.

A few wobbling steps in and he said, “I am-,”

“Staring at your feet,” a slide of your fingers on his chin made him smirk to keep his idiotic grin from spreading in your move closer allowing you to say, “Everyone’s three sheets to the wind and by the time you see them again they won’t care about your dancing. They, however, will care if I’m not smiling.” In a stolen peck on his cheek you added, “Don’t let Thor have all the fun.”

Surely but steadily he melted into the awkward dance and the next three until you needed a rest and claimed a refill of your drinks. Even leaning against his arm to help him through the made up card game they had made up the flirtations never ceased and he had to force his focus on the games instead of trying to fight off the male suitors, who outnumbered the women five to one, all in uniform surely intending frivolity and nothing more. Yet even meaningless flirtations and no right to tell them off or throw a dagger at someone’s chest left him feeling more helpless than ever. A distant bell however had the music halting and drinks downed with each and every guy stealing a kiss on your knuckles on their paths to the door.

In a glance at Loki you grabbed his hat in his saying goodbye to Timothy and Pietro after Geoff had turned to go. Jack stood pocketing his bills and said, “Best be off.”

Loki grabbed his coat with his other hand smoothing across your back asking, “What is that?”

“Call to stations.”

Loki, “Even from drinking? What-,”

Lowly Jack said at the base of the stairs by Loki’s ear, “This city’s being invaded. Germans are coming.” That made Loki’s hand tighten at your waist in the sudden race of his heart in the joint trot up the stairs starting the short trek back to the same back alley where you reached up putting on Loki’s hat to open the pendant laying against your chest suddenly shifting you inside the Tardis.

Weakly in a chuckle Loki turned peering at the doors and around the ship as your hand released his. Jack with a sigh slid his tie off his neck completely saying, “I don’t know about you, but I need a nap. What do you think, Hawaii for breakfast?”

Softly you giggled, “Sounds lovely. I’ll book the table.” After a peck on your cheek he said, “Try to get some sleep, Pumpkin.”

“I will.” Down the hall he went undoing his shirt with his coat draped over his forearm, turning your head you flashed Loki a grin asking, “Want to sleep?”

He shook his head wetting his lips hearing engines roaring overhead and sirens sounding muffling at the turn of a knob lighting up the central column again glowing brighter in a few swivels and flicked switches. At your side he asked, “Those men, are they, or rather, will they-,”

In a glance up at him you smirked saying, “You know that story about me dropping them in a bog?”

Instantly his grin split open, “Now? We’re going now?”

In a giggle you answered, “No, I am, not now, but younger me is going now.”

Loki, “Ah, all of them?”

“Most.” You answered with a hint of pain in your faked hopeful tone luring him to stroke your back pulling you into a timid hug you melted into urging his arms fully around you in a tight hold. Softly you whispered, “It never gets easier. The whole club will be gone in a month. Nearly spent all the days it’s open. Then I’ll have to find another club.”

When you pulled back Loki asked eyeing the panel, “Does it take long to fly to Hawaii?”

“Bout ten minutes.”

“Then where are we off to now?” at catching your eye again he added in a smirking purr, “Or should I ask, when?”

“I have a few stops I have to make. Small bits and bobs here and there before bed.”

Eagerly K9 came up to your sides widening Loki’s smirk at your blind shift of a knob and dip of your other hand to accept the leash K9 was holding in his mouth then stepped away. “1973, Sweden.”

With his hands sliding into his pockets he followed after you, “What happened in 1973?”

“I have to pay a parking ticket.” Chuckling at his place beside you he caught your eye halfway to the door as you said, “It’s not all adventures. Fair bit of monotony to catch up on.”

“I doubt monotony could be anything close to what this box could do with you at the helm.”

At the door your smirk grew and his jaw dropped when you opened the door seeing the stained glass towers on a floating station above a planet of trees and waterfalls, turning his head he caught your giggle saying, “1973, thousand circa Zun, Swendevnokricnarius planet in the Rafbuntorlus quadrant just past the Ring of Exploding Seas. Shortened to Sweden, one of the human outposts after they started to colonize out of their own galaxy.”

Lowly he chuckled closing the door behind you watching the Tardis shrink to be your necklace again and drew out a hand from his pocket to settle it on your back starting the walk away from the fountain you had parked at to enter the city. “What language do they speak?”

“Swedish. But no worries, the Tardis has a telepathic link to us and translates everything. Except Wingdings. There are five planets on the edge of Corvus Nova who speak in nothing but Wingdings. I can scrawl out the runes for chicken and chips though. I will never go hungry, though the symbol for bathroom is lost to me. No concept of gender at all, mostly corporeal beings who harness inanimate objects that devour food to release these colorful gases.”

Loki smiled at the exciting images and wide smile on your face in a twisting step closer to his side, “And the purpose of the gases?”

“Space whales use the planet to breed there.”

“Space whales.”

“Fantasia wasn’t all wrong. Not like the ones the Chitauri brought to New York, no, much more powerful. Live off of cosmic energy and sail through stars without harming them. Even saw one soar through a sun once.” You said peering up at him with a confirming nod making him chuckle and peer into your eyes adoringly.

“I suppose we shall have to make a list of things for you to share with me then. We can compare against a list of my own.”

“Ooh, I can just imagine what mischief you’ve gotten up to.”

“I doubt I could imagine what you have been up to.”

Another giggle later you replied, “Oh you couldn’t fathom the half of it.” Making him laugh again, tightening his grip in your step closer at the release of people out of teleport pad bubble popping up through the portal platform in the ground. Mixed races of people and aliens all passing with stolen glances at the pair of you and others on the way to their destinations.

Pt 12

[xathia-89]

One of Fourteen Million, Six Hundred and Five Ways

This is a commissioned piece by @muggzc who asked me for The Doctor interfering with the Avengers during one of the failed scenarios that Dr Strange saw. 

This is a long piece, but one I am very happy with. Just a reminder that I am open to commissions, and I believe I don’t have anything in the works either. So please feel free to message me to find out what I do! Because not even my blog holds everything. 

Angst warning. Endgame Spoilers. And introducing my OC Darcy.

When he had offered me a chance to go for a trip in his TARDIS after doing a particularly elaborate dress that even Queen Victoria would have been jealous of, I couldn’t yell ‘lunch break’ at my boss and colleague quickly enough before grabbing my bag to get in. This was my third version of the Doctor to work for, but only one of the rare chances that he didn’t have a companion already with him, and when I didn’t have any rush jobs to work on. I worked as a costumer, with a specialisation in restoring clothes. Not that many people these days had the clothes to restore, but my knowledge of Victorian and Georgian styles did mean I could make the clothing accurate. Add in the popularity of period dramas and such; we were rarely out of work to do. The first version I had met spoke with a refined accent found mostly around London, dark brown hair that was usually styled into a quiff, and seemed to have more than a few companions. He was always out and about, demanding everything almost last minute and bringing back things for repairs with burn holes, bullet holes, bloodstains along with the usual rips and tears in fabrics. Then when I met the next incarnation, it blew my mind to learn that actually, he wasn’t anything like what we usually catered to. Then he began to describe my mother and grandmother and how they had been just as talented, and it must have been a family trait when he recognised my surname. The change from suits to a tweed jacket and the bow tie was surprising, but then it wasn’t as though they were the same person. Each incarnation was a new generation was akin to how the Doctor explained it, though it didn’t change how the outfits would come back to me for repairs. My boss and colleague were more than happy to let me deal with the incidents and problems that occurred with sorting out the clothing from the man, as long as there wasn’t a higher paying customer to prioritise since the Doctor had a TARDIS to time travel about with. 

Then the grumpy Scotsman turned up, claiming to be the Doctor. It didn’t help that my first name had escaped his memory, though the bright pink hair I was partial to stuck in his head, and he started pointing and yelling at me the second I was seen from the back of my head. My boss was less than willing to hear him out until he started calling me a ruin and we all began to then ask questions about what work we had done in the past. His companion then appeared, and I would recognise Clara anywhere. 

Not that he appreciated my demands for him to settle his account before we began any more serious work as I took measurements for them both, and then tightened my tape measure around his waist when he began to object. Clara was amused at least, and we got the money we were owed. 

Something had changed, but he wasn’t one to talk about it. He was on his own, Bill was gone, Clara wasn’t there, and I wasn’t sure he wanted to go on an adventure by himself. 

Landing on a military base in the 1970s America wasn’t my idea of an adventure, but the TARDIS had decided it was where we were needed. Quite literally. 

I was tipped out and tripped all sorts of alarms. We were surrounded in seconds, and naturally, the TARDIS fled the scene of the crime. They couldn’t arrest us quickly enough, and then we were marched off to a holding cell, where two somewhat familiar faces were already present. 

“You can join back with your buddies here, while we decide what to do with you all anyway,” the guard chuckled, highly pleased with himself as the door was locked behind us and then our cuffs were taken off. 

I rubbed my wrists, the metal had dug in a little with the overly enthusiastic handling of the men while trying to convince myself that I wasn’t sharing with who I thought I was. There just wasn’t the chance of it being genuinely possible. 

“So we have you two to thank for the alarms going off then?” It was a voice that made so many women swoon, as a character that just oozed power, money and control. It would have panties dropping anywhere he went, but that was his character, not the actor. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“Well we didn’t really get to choose where we were dropped off,” the Doctor wasn’t going to let this slide. I was trying to hide behind my hands, willing to wake up at any moment and stop my brain from exploding. This was more than a crossing of times and space, this was heading for the fantasy realms, and my reality would not allow it to be true. 

“How long before the tesseract is lost to us?” The blond man stepped in, separating the other man from the Doctor, and confirmed what I knew. This was not the universe I knew for sure. 

“I don’t know, the longer we’re here then, the better chances of us being stuck here instead of going back to 2019,” Stark eventually replied, glowering with ferocity at us for the disruption we’d caused. 

“What’s happening in 2019 that’s so important? When is this?” The Doctor liked his questions. They always did as I dared to speak for the first time in an age. 

“Thanos, he happens in 2019,” I whispered, before tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Thanos makes half of the planet just disappear, and there isn’t anything anyone can do about it.” 

Having the attention of three very ‘powerful’ men wasn’t something I was used to. I liked working in the back to avoid the spotlight. Then it was the usual service. 

“Well, we need to get out of this cell anyway. We can’t stop anyone from in here,” the Doctor replied, throwing his arms out as though to command the situation. 

“Great idea, how are we leaving then?” Tony Stark sarcastically invited the Doctor to inspect the door with a flourish of his arm. Not that the Doctor would remember about his sonic screwdriver being back in action anyway. 

“If you give me a minute, then maybe we could be on our way,” this wasn’t going to end any time soon as I threw my hood up to try and hide myself from the scene. “It looks like a fairly simple lock to bust, a little bit of a twist with some wire and we should be free.”

“Only this is S.H.I.E.L.D. we are talking about; nothing would be that simple. We would be triggering an escape alarm at the very least, and possibly inviting for us to all be shot on sight,” Tony scorned. 

“I don’t see you coming up with a better idea,” it was akin to watching two children as I tried to make myself a little more comfortable on the cement bench that was trying to pass as more comfortable than the floor to sit on. I was playing with the toggle of my hoodie, while Steve was watching them with a slightly amused expression on his face. But from my experience and knowledge of the man, then he was also feeling the same level of exasperation that I was as Tony was now trying to bait the Doctor into the trap. 

“Why don’t you two make out if your feelings are mutual?” I finally had enough of trying to tune them out and snapped a little, sharply tugging on my cord and snapping the plastic bead off the end with the force I used. It clattered to the floor before I stood up, and began instantly frisking the Doctor’s interior coat pockets. I held up the sonic screwdriver to him with raised eyebrows. “That should be able to override the security systems, and as much as I know, the 1970s doesn’t really have any quality camera recordings.” 

“I knew I had that,” the Doctor frowned, snatching the sonic back off me and tutting as he turned towards the door. 

It took a few seconds, but I was confident in the screwdriver if not in the Doctor’s abilities that it was all overridden now. 

“Where do we go now?” The Doctor was trying to think out loud, inviting the other men to intervene and hoping that they knew where we were more than we did. 

“I forgot to memorise the map of this place,” Tony laughed. “I knew I should have paid more attention to things,” he was playing antagonist now and agitating the Doctor. And I knew that he wouldn’t just leave things be either. 

I took a deep breath before barging out of the door and taking a sharp right turn. There wasn’t any way to guarantee we were getting far as my mind was already trying to replay the successful storyline over in my head. Tony and Steve would need to get the tesseract away in the briefcase and past Howard Stark and all of the security team. How they had gotten caught was puzzling, but it wasn’t going to be solved by sitting in the cell and listening to Stark and the Doctor argue. A quick glance backwards and I knew I wasn’t on my own at least; Steve must have felt something similar to be going with a complete stranger out of the cell he had been held in. 

It didn’t take too long before the four of us were joined up like some band of misfits, though it was a strange thought for me to possibly be seen as dressed in the weirdest of combinations given our location and timing. The Doctor could pass as an eccentric old man, and Steve and Tony were dressed for the era. Though my mind was dangerously close to exploding at processing where we were. 

“Just who are you two anyway?” Tony wouldn’t let it drop. “And more importantly, why do they all assume the four of us were together before we ended up in that cell?”

“Statistically it’s less likely that they have one group of four people breaking in than two groups of two people, so it follows some common logic to group us all together,” the Doctor rambled off as we waited in a storage room for a chance to ascertain where we were aside from just knowing it was the ‘detention level’. 

“Otherwise known as ‘Hi, I’m the Doctor, and this is my current companion, Darcy’,” I smiled extra brightly over my shoulder at Stark, knowing that the Doctor certainly wasn’t in the mood to introduce us to them. 

“So, how did you get here? And how did you get the alarms tripped to the point we were arrested as well?” Tony was persistent; I had to give him that. 

“The TARDIS decided to tip us out, quite literally in the compound, in front of all of the soldiers, I have no idea why they assumed we would be working with you,” the Doctor wasn’t here to make friends today, apparently, as I hung my head dejectedly. 

“Will you try to play nice?” I asked, tilting my head now back towards the Doctor, with a forced smile on my face. It did seem to get my message across as I began to work my way deeper into the room. People would keep all sorts in storerooms because they didn’t want to part with them, or they were too confidential to risk doing anything but burning. Not that they would handily have a bag marked ‘confidential waste’ for us, that would be far too simple and only happen in the movies. 

The vents may get us a better view; it wasn’t something that tended to be alarmed yet. Even in facilities like S.H.I.E.L.D., there was still a limit to what technology was ongoing. The sound of footsteps meant the boys were silent for once; it was the only peace and quiet I was ever going to get until we got out of here and successfully completed the mission. I had the feeling that the TARDIS had dumped us here as part of the millions of scenarios that Doctor Strange had seen. I wasn’t expecting to need to use my film-watching skills to get us through anything; it was usually the Doctor taking control and making the decisions. We were all holding our breath, anyone could quickly come in here and ruin everything we had done, but we were counting on someone having our back in some deity. Even if it was just to see how far we got before we screwed it up. 

I frisked the Doctor’s pockets again before he could stop me. I knew that coat as well as he did, I’d repaired it that many times, so I knew exactly where his hidden pockets were as I lifted the sonic screwdriver off him. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing with that?” The Doctor was getting exasperated as I began to climb on board of a dusty old desk behind some filing cabinets. 

“Getting into the vents,” I shrugged, shoving the sonic towards the screws, disabling any possibility of the system being hooked up to them already. “And I can’t see anyone else fitting into here so let me go and find out where we are and how to get out of here,” I argued, before pulling myself up into the metal ventilation system. “I would love to swear I am currently not here, and this is definitely a movie thing, but I am currently in a fricking movie!” I muttered to myself before making the decision to try the vent going in the opposite direction from where we had come from the cells. It was all worth a shot anyway. 

Every chance I had to try and pinpoint us, it was all looking the same. I was overseeing desks, or boxes and filing cabinets, there was nothing distinguishable for me to see. I could be going around in squares for all I knew as I was trying to keep any noise I made to a minimum. It was hard to shuffle about quickly without raising suspicion. I heard the occasional mutterings about the venting being noisier than usual, but no one seemed to deem it a necessity to investigate at least. I was starting to feel desperation sink in; this was a top-secret military base, why would they mark anything? It was all for the need to know, and infiltrators were definitely not need to know. 

“They aren’t in the cells,” a crisp voice caught my attention, coming from nearby as I crept slowly forward, panic began to set in. “So do us all a favour, and find them, now,” I caught sight of someone I definitely hadn’t been expecting to see. 

Loki, in that freshly pressed and neatly kept suit. He looked authoritative; no one would want to question him, ideal for him to get onto the base without a thought. I couldn’t see who he had given the order to, a lackey of sorts but we weren’t alone in this, and Loki knew what we were doing. 

I had to just forget about the part where he was a God. 

That smirk, it was swoon-worthy in the cinemas, to know that it wasn’t Tom Hiddlestone playing the part and had locked his sights onto me in the ventilation system, it was terrifying as I was frozen in place. It took him seconds to break through the metal grate; I couldn’t get out of his grasp as I tried to find something to hang onto, anything to hold to stop him carrying me off like I weighed nothing to him. 

“What’s this?” He was holding the sonic screwdriver alight, studying it with intrigue, before he smiled back at me. His eyes were black, they were pitless, and there was no hope in it for me. “Well then, I think you need to come with me,” I had been struck by fear keeping me still, but the thought of being carried off terrified me more. 

All of my struggles did nothing for me. Loki had me hoisted over his shoulder, bound and gagged with that magic of his, and strolling away like this was normal. I knew that Loki was the God of mischief, he was able to impersonate individuals from a glance, and no one would think to question one of the top star generals. Even if he was carrying a woman about in a strange manner. All I could do was not to give up. I kept pounding my wrists into his back, flailing my legs about wildly until I nearly cracked my head on the pavement. 

I couldn’t pin the other man I was facing, but I had a strong feeling that the tesseract was in the briefcase in his hands. The compound around us was intrigued momentarily; then it was almost as though we didn’t exist. Eyes would glass over us, people would walk past, and the three of us were in a one-way mirror. I would have guessed we were invisible, but I was doubtful of anyone having the ability to do that even in the Marvel Universe. But I had two sets of eyes on me, and the sonic screwdriver was in Loki’s possession. 

“Intruder alert! Be on the lookout for three men and one woman who have infiltrated the base and broken from their holding cell! Assume they are armed and extremely dangerous.” 

The speakers all crackled to life and set every personnel on fire. Guns were everywhere, but not one of them was pointed at me. I was already trying to think of what powers were available, and how I could shatter it, but the other man picked me up and passed the briefcase to Loki. The Asgardian God was looking so pleased with himself. I couldn’t let it end like this. Loki with the tesseract would bring about so much destruction; he had already proven that several years previously in bringing the Chitauri army through a portal made by it to New York. 

Then a door bust open behind us with a loud explosion, and Chris, Tony and the Doctor were all in the centre of the chaos. It removed the magic or whatever for long enough for the three of them to lock eyes onto our position, and then the TARDIS captured the attention of the base. 

I didn’t want to think about what S.H.I.E.L.D. could do with the technology of a TARDIS. I knew they were secretly Hydra, hiding out until they could gather enough power to be able to call the likes of Captain America a threat to security and freedom. The possibilities were endless. They would be able to take themselves to whenever to gather all the technology to ensure they won. The thought of that was making my stomach drop through my feet, nevermind if Loki decided he wasn’t satisfied with the sonic screwdriver. 

I wouldn’t stay still, I was fighting the magic binding me together, trying to pull my wrists apart, or my ankles now that Loki had taken the leg flailing of earlier to be something to cease. I was acting out of my terrified imagination. The three of them were trying to figure out where we were until Loki just calmly walked off base without a thought. He wasn’t concerned; it was going according to his plan. He’d even gained some extra shinies, as whatever it was keeping us out of sight was dropped. 

I wanted to scream; I was trying to break the gag. I didn’t know what it was made of, and I didn’t care right now. I needed the Doctor to know that Loki had the tesseract and the sonic. I didn’t want to think about how much power was at his disposal. I saw the TARDIS disappear, and that was when Loki had his interest in that old-looking wooden box. 

“What was that?” He asked his ‘friend’, though it was obvious who was in charge. 

“Ask her, I have no idea,” the man shook his head, gesturing wildly to me before turning to the control panels of the ship that they had commandeered.

The magic disappeared, allowing me to breathe freely, but the demanding pressure of God didn’t mean I could feel easy. 

“Answer me, girl,” Loki’s tone would have frozen Australia during a heatwave. It made me stiffen without a thought. I had been in less intimidating situations with the Daleks, and I would take the thought of the Cyberman trying to make me one of their own instead of being anywhere near Loki. “I said, answer me!” His foot stamped down straight in front of me, making the floor under me vibrate, and my entire mental system was in panic mode. 

I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him. I was ashamed of myself at the moment. I knew what he wanted to know, but I couldn’t even bring myself to think of replying. My mouth was dry and frozen shut, and I was shaking with fear. I focused on the ground, trying to pretend that if I couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t see me. 

“You will answer me when your friends are the ones under my boot, like the tiny ants they are,” Loki sharply replied, spinning around to navigate the strange man to someplace. I was left without the gag but bound up on the floor. It was easier to tilt my hips, and fall onto my side, the pins and needles easing after I was able to straighten my legs and move them a little before rolling onto my back. If either of the men cared, it didn’t show. Not that I was sure why I would think that they would care. There wasn’t much for me to do; I didn’t know where I was or where the Doctor was. I knew the sonic screwdriver was with Loki, and I dreaded to think of the possibility that it would be passed into the hands of Thanos, along with the tesseract. The thought was terrifying, and this wasn’t my timeline or story to persevere with. 

I was sharply hoisted by the back of my jacket, a gag weaving around my mouth the moment we had landed. I was being carried off the ship with no grace, and then I saw the TARDIS. Relief, the smallest of hope in me as I saw the Doctor jump out with a determination in his step I only saw when he knew he had others depending on him. Tony and Steve came out with the same expressions everyone wore after their first trip in the TARDIS, disbelief that it was that size as they both spun around to check that it hadn’t grown in size before spotting Loki with me in hand, and presumably the tesseract in the briefcase in his other hand. 

“I believe you have something of mine!” The Doctor would never let anyone get away with his things. “And I need it back.”

“The girl? I can give her back straight away,” Loki laughed back, thrusting me out, so I was dangling over the edge of the structure. I had no idea where we were, but I was not safe at this height. Hitting the ground from here would kill me, and it wouldn’t be pretty. I would have seconds of terror before a sad end. “Oh? You seem to want for me to keep her alive; she did have this intriguing little gadget in her hand. I had to take that into my possession, of course, it would have been foolish to allow her to keep it when I don’t know what it does, and she won’t tell me.”

“I need her and my screwdriver back,” the Doctor was already several steps ahead of me. “It won’t work for anyone else.” 

“So why did she have it then?” 

The scorn in Loki’s voice was evident before I was carelessly tossed to the other man. 

“Make them talk,” Loki ordered, taking the sonic out of his coat pocket to inspect the device. “I want to know what the box is, as well.” 

“Why are you doing this?” I didn’t know where my voice came from, the gag shattering against all my struggles. 

“Why not?” Loki’s smile was the most terrifying thing in existence. Being in such close quarters to it was only confirming that I had no idea about what fear truly was. This was no ordinary man; he was a God. “Mysterio is twisting all of your friends’ senses. They think you’re hanging off the edge, held by the throat and gasping for every breath, the second it looks like you’re about to pass out, he brings you back just to regain your consciousness before repeating it. I’m sure you’re a smart girl. I could have him do that for real.”

“Why don’t you then?” 

I had no idea where this bravery was coming from. I had no inclination to die, but there had to be a reason why the other man was casting illusions instead of using me as the actual bait. 

“Because I need you to keep them in one place. We are going to learn what this device is, and leave with it and the tesseract, you will be far enough away that they cannot chase us,” Loki’s plan made complete sense. “I will let you all live in exchange for the information; you could stop it right now by telling me.”

“You’re bluffing,” I croaked, trying to keep that tiniest of flames of hope inside of me. “You think that the Doctor will let you just walk away with his screwdriver?” 

“I do, actually. In exchange for your life. You, humans, are so sentimental.”

“He’s not human,” I snapped, glaring at him with everything I had. “He’s a Timelord, and he will not let you get away with this.” 

“I don’t know what a timelord is, nor do I care. I know he will give in to the sentiments of keeping you alive.”

“Please, I will tell you what you need to know, just don’t drop her from there,” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Loki’s expression changed to one of victory, a wide smirk at me as he opened his arms wide in triumph before a cackle began. It was the day the Doctor lost. 

“That is a sonic screwdriver; it can unlock anything electrical, it can tell you anything you want to know about where you are, it can hack into virtually any system. It can deflect most powers and attacks, it can interception teleportations, it can send out its own communications, it can burn or cut most substances, disarm weapons and computers, control atoms and molecules, make a force field for protection, download a person’s consciousness and transfer it to a computer, it can do so much even I don’t know the extent of its abilities. Please, don’t drop Darcy.” 

He sounded so broken; he’d needed to bow down to someone else in possession of his sonic, in lieu of a companion’s life. 

“Only if we are walking away from here with the sonic screwdriver, and the tesseract,” Mysterio finally made a declaration. I could see it was pushing him to keep going with the maintaining of the illusion. Loki had kept me close enough that all I would need is a shove off the building, and I would be plummeting to my death. 

“No, the tesseract-” I forgot that Steve and Tony were with the Doctor. 

“This is not up for negotiation. Are you willing to bet her life over this? Could you do that?” Loki was enjoying himself, basking in the glory of the moment as my tears couldn’t stop falling down my cheeks. 

“Yes, please, don’t hurt her,” the Doctor was desperate, all over me. I had caused this. 

The illusion was dropped, and I had to watch Mysterio and Loki just walk away, my binds still holding me together as the three men dashed back into the TARDIS. There wouldn’t be enough time to stop them, as the stolen vessel began to take off, and threw the blue box out of its intended stopping point. It was on its side and shattered into a million pieces, the Doctor, Steve and Tony all realising the same thing as they picked themselves out of the wreckage. 

Maybe this was one of the scenarios where Thanos wins. 

[theparaminds]

The musical puzzle that lays in front of artists is both sprawling and overwhelming. To make sense of the swirling emotions within humanity and form sonics that mirror them monumental. But in walks Umru. Just as the puzzle seems almost impossible, he reminds of the missing piece that had fallen on the floor. Like a breath of fresh air within pop production, Umru is solving different artist’s puzzles while also looking to finish his own. 

Based in New York, Umru is seeing production for more than its surface later ability. More so than just a collaboration tool, it is. in his hands, being transformed into a means of shared expression in a time of distance. In strengthening the vision of others, Umru finds a voice his own which carries through each of his works. This voice, ultimately, is telling a story self-discovery and freedom, stitching itself into endless far-reaching stories.

And so the puzzle sits on the table still with pieces missing, with a slew of holes and complexities. All of our puzzles do. All of our personal stories are united in the full photo being incomplete. But without individuals such as Umru, the pieces would be missing a lifetime. With every song he creates, one which touches another’s heart, a piece of their puzzle is found. The resulting image is slightly more clear and ever more beautiful. 

                                                         -

Our first question as always, how’s your day going and how have you been?

Good! I’m alright, I've felt really busy, yet unproductive recently though.

In your eyes, what defining features in your upbringing brought you into the path you’re on now and what was their significance to you as an individual?

I’ve got two very creative-minded parents and was lucky to be in an environment with few obstacles in getting to do the things I wanted creatively. I was able to use my dad’s old laptop with Ableton Live installed for example. I think access to the internet was also a defining feature, moving through online communities from Minecraft servers to Tumblr and Youtube fandoms to Soundcloud and Soundcloud producer group chats on Skype and Twitter. I was in a very small town and definitely relied on these communities just as much if not more than “real life” relationships to develop as an individual.

What were the core visions you went into music with at the beginning and how do you reflect on those original mindsets and values?

I don’t have this stuff all figured out honestly. I didn’t start making music with an end goal in mind. I started working on music early on enough that I wasn’t thinking about these things, I was just finding sounds and directions I liked on the internet and wanted to start replicating them. Since then I feel like I’ve been able to carve out and develop a sound world that’s uniquely mine even if my influences are pretty clear, but I’m still an immature artist with a lot to figure out in terms of vision.

Do you feel there was ever a shifting or eye-opening moment within your career that made you realize what it is you truly wanted to create?

The closest thing I can think of is A. G. Cook emailing me and expressing his interest in the parallels between our work. This was in 2016 or 2017, I was a high schooler and “Soundcloud trap” producer. I was a fan of PC Music but never imagined my music in a Pop context. Not too long after, A. G. had me working with him on tracks for Tommy Cash and then suddenly Charli XCX. “I Got It” came out on Charli’s mixtape, Pop 2, not much longer. Then a month after I worked on it, all of a sudden, I had all this new attention as a forward-thinking pop producer. It definitely helped me understand that the lines between these worlds were more blurred than ever, and my direction has definitely shifted since then—as much as I still end up focusing on sound design and convoluted production techniques, I want to make pop music, and stretch what that can mean as much as possible.  

Now, how do you ensure that as an artist who collaborates heavily with others you don’t diminish or lose your own personal spark and vision? How do you approach creation with others to be able to allow yourself to be heard and not simply listened to?

I used to be very protective of my work and “sound” and found it hard to collaborate a lot of the time. But I’ve learned to step back a bit and trust everyone else a bit more and the result has been better music. Especially in the pop world it’s impossible to get too attached to your work because there’s just endless music that will never hear the light of day and I have to be okay with that. And the work that does get heard may go through many changes by others after I work on it, I’ve had to learn to get less bothered by that inevitable process.

Which artists in history do you feel you could work well and create great art with, even though to many it would seem like an impossible or confusing combination?

I’m honestly a lot more interested in working with people who are making the current musical moment interesting. There’s plenty of good music throughout history but it’s exhausting to think of everything in the context of the past. I go to music school and everything is constantly about emulating the legendary studios and gear of the golden era of recording which never feels that relevant to me. That being said, I would love to work on a track with Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, J Dilla, Sylvia Striplin, Wendy Carlos, or John Tavener.

What improvements and developments do you hope to see within your sound and artistry going forth and do you feel you’re near a point of satisfaction with those elements?

I’m never near a point of satisfaction, I’ve spent a long time trying to perfect a complex, detailed, sound design-based approach and I’ve still not made it far enough in that direction.  Now, I’m feeling like a more immediate, stripped down, and more fun style that’s less concerned with the perfect details is becoming my new goal. This is after hearing projects like 1000 gecs and waterboy by William Crooks that are in this vein. What I need to improve most on is songwriting and the simplicity and catchiness of pop music that I’ve relied a bit too much on collaborators for in the past.

What do you feel is your largest goal with creation and with your efforts as an artist? Do you feel it important to speak to others or is there personal learning that you’re drawn to?

I’ve never been good at speaking to others in any other way, so music is definitely the way I do it. I guess the largest goal is simply to create or help others to create music that positively impacts as many people as possible. Production ends up being a very supportive role if you’re the kind that works with recording artists, and that’s definitely a role I’m still learning to fill. If I can get super-rich and famous that would be sick too.

Looking forward, what has you most excited for the future and what moments are you ready to experience?

Music! There’s a lot of really important work happening right now and It’s gonna sound really good in the future.

Do you have anyone to say thank you to or anything you’d like to say into existence? The floor is yours.

Thank you Rylee. Thank you A. G. Thank you Tiam and thank you Paramind for having me speak.

                                                           -

Listen on Spotify and Apple Music

Follow on Instagram and Twitter

                                                          -

Cover Photo by Max Schramp

                                                          -

Words and Interview by Guy Mizrahi

[the-desolated-quill]

The Woman Who Fell To Earth - Doctor Who blog (Change, my dear. And it seems not a moment too soon)

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Never before have I gone into a Doctor Who episode with such a mixture of excitement and dread as I did with The Woman Who Fell To Earth. On the one hand we’ve finally got a female Doctor, something most Whovians have been waiting decades for, but on the other hand she’s being written by Chris Chibnall, a writer who (and let’s be generous here) has never exactly managed to win me over in the past. His past Doctor Who episodes were often derivative, stupid and poorly written and while yes he did create Broadchurch (a show that people assure me is good, but I still have little to no interest in watching), he was also the showrunner of the god awful spinoff Torchwood, which was essentially Doctor Who’s Suicide Squad. 

So yeah, the thought of him sitting in the driver’s seat and at such a crucial moment in Doctor Who’s long history didn’t exactly get me hyped for the new series and if I’m honest, come Sunday 7th October, I was bracing myself for the worst.

Then the most pleasant of surprises. The Woman Who Fell To Earth turned out to be really, really good. I’m actually gobsmacked by how much I enjoyed this episode. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be praising a Chibnall episode, but here we are.

I think one of the reasons why I enjoyed this episode so much is because it feels like all the aspects that annoyed me about RTD and Moffat’s respective eras have been sheared away. There’s no convoluted plots. No dangling arcs. No forced whimsy. No smart arse dialogue or pretentious speeches. In fact this had a lot more in common with a classic series story in terms of its pacing and scale. It’s not some global threat where everyone is dashing about like headless chickens on speed. The threat is contained to one town in Northern England where only a handful of people are in danger. Even the music has mercifully been restrained. While I do have a fondness for Murray Gold’s work on Doctor Who, his music often had a tendency to go too overboard, bombarding the senses and drowning the audience in slush. New composer Segun Akinola offers a much more subtle and moving score. It enhances the action and certain emotional moments without bashing you over the head and, crucially, Akinola knows when to shut up and let the actors carry the scene.

I must say it’s such a relief to see some humanity injected back into Doctor Who again. After years of convoluted, timey wimey Moffat nonsense, Chibnall has had the good sense to bring everything back to basics. It’s not about the aliens, the special effects, the exotic locations or the overly pretentious plots that require a fucking flow chart in order to make sense of them. It’s all about the characters. And what wonderful characters they are. Ensemble casts rarely work on Doctor Who, but I have to say I really like this cast. Out of all the new companions, Ryan is probably my favourite. Tosin Cole gives a really good performance and I really like how he’s written. In particular I like how the episode portrays his dyspraxia. The way New Who has handled things like disability and mental health in the past has left a lot to be desired, but here Chibnall gets it just right. He never makes a big thing out of it and the episode never comes across as patronising or condescending. It’s treated like any other character trait, which is exactly how it should be.

Mandip Gill is also good as Yasmin Khan, a police officer who feels like she’s not getting the most out of her life or career. She reminds me slightly of Rose Tyler, but unlike Rose, Yasmin is more proactive. She doesn’t sit around waiting for something to happen. She pursues new opportunities when they come up and gets frustrated when someone puts a wall in front of her. It’ll be interesting to see how she’ll adapt to time travel over the course of the series.

And then there’s Graham, played by Bradley Walsh. To all my non-British readers, let me give you a quick education on the wonders that is Mr. Walsh. He’s one of our most versatile performers. He’s been a footballer, a comedian, an actor and a gameshow host. He’s an incredibly funny man as well as a great dramatic performer. Having seen him in Law & Order UK, I knew he’d be perfect and he didn’t disappoint. There’s a weariness to him that’s incredibly charming and likeable, but then he’s able to go from comedic to emotional at the drop of a hat. The eulogy he gives at Grace’s funeral was incredibly powerful and moving, as are the moments where he tries to bond with Ryan, who’s clearly sceptical of any kind of father figure in his life due to how unreliable his dad is. Both Graham and Ryan are the ones to keep a close eye on I think. Ryan in particular will be carrying a lot of baggage as the series progresses. His determination to ride a bike shows not only the pain he feels toward losing his Nan, but also the guilt. If he hadn’t lost his temper, chucked his bike down a cliff and then pressed the weird glowing shapes, none of this would have happened. He clearly feels he’s responsible for her death and I’m looking forward to seeing not only how he grows and moves on from that, but also how Graham will step up and help him, being the grandfather Ryan needs if not necessarily the one he wants.

It’s the characterisation that is The Woman Who Fell To Earth’s greatest strength. Not just the from the main cast, but the supporting characters too. Little moments like the old man telling his granddaughter he loves her before getting killed by the Stenza or the crane operator listening to self motivation tapes is what gives this episode more depth and soul. And then of course there’s Grace, played wonderfully by Sharon D. Clarke. I’m hard pressed to think of a single character from the Moffat era that I gave anything resembling a shit about, which is why it’s so remarkable that I’m able to care this much about Grace despite the short time we get to know her. She’s caring, supportive and energetic. She feels like the perfect companion for the Doctor and I would have loved to have seen her in the TARDIS with everyone else, which is what makes her death so heartbreaking. She’s not some random redshirt getting axed because the script requires more tension. She’s a three dimensional character we really like coming to a tragic end.

Okay. Okay. Let’s get to the main topic of conversation. How’s the new Doctor? Have the ‘feminazis’ ruined it? Is she swapping makeup tips with the Cybermen? Is she struggling to parallel park the TARDIS? Did she accidentally kill a whole species because it was her time of the month? (these are all things I’ve seriously heard butthurt fanboys say since Jodie Whittaker was cast and I think we can all agree it’s beyond pathetic). Well, quelle surprise, turns out the Doctor’s sex change didn’t jumpstart the SJW apocalypse after all. Who’d have thought women could be Doctors too? What a novel concept.

The minute she fell into the train, I was sold. Whereas Peter Capaldi took three whole series to finally come into his own (not that Capaldi is necessarily to blame for that. Blame the monkey at the fucking typewriter for that one), with Jodie Whittaker it’s instantaneous. She is the Doctor.

It helps that Chibnall largely dispenses with all the usual post-regeneration bullshit. With the fainting and gurning kept to a minimum, we can get on with actually learning about this new Doctor and I love what I’m seeing so far. She’s quick-witted, compassionate and quirky, but not to the point where it becomes annoying like Matt Smith’s often did (in my opinion. Tastes differ, obviously. I personally found Eleven to be unbearable at times). After the Twelfth Doctor, with his borderline misanthropy and his inability to even so much as blow his nose without a companion to hold his hand, Thirteen comes like a breath of fresh air. 

One thing I especially like about her is her complete lack of arrogance and boring machismo that previous New Who Doctors were sometimes guilty of. Rather than having her boast about how clever she is, like Ten or Eleven would have, she just shows us by building a new sonic screwdriver out of spoons. And she never tries to lord her moral superiority over others. Quite the opposite in fact. This is a Doctor who clearly values teamwork and can recognise strength in others. There are flashes of darkness too, like when she manipulates the Stenza into killing himself with his own DNA bombs, but she’s not driven by some inherent belief that she is right and they are wrong. She’s driven by the fact that she has gotten to know these people and doesn’t want anything to happen to them. Thirteen is quite possibly one of the most down to earth Doctors I’ve ever seen and I’m extremely excited to see more.

As I said, The Woman Who Fell To Earth is largely about its characters, which is just as well because the plot is... I wouldn’t say it’s bad, but it’s definitely the least interesting thing about the episode. I liked the look of the Stenza, with the teeth embedded in his face, and the gathering coil. I liked that it was a small scale threat and largely self contained, and I liked the way the plot slowly unfolds over the course of the story. However it is a bit derivative. The Stenza is pretty much a PG-13 version of the Predator and he is a bit one note. That being said, it doesn’t detract from the enjoyment factor of the episode. By keeping the plot simple for the most part, it allows Chibnall to fully explore the characters, who are clearly supposed to be the main focus.

In short, I’m pleased to say that I really liked Chris Chibnall’s first offering as showrunner (never thought I’d ever type this). The Woman Who Fell To Earth is without a doubt one of the most confident starts to a new Doctor I’ve ever seen and I’m very much anticipating where the series goes from here. For the first time, in a long time, I’m excited for the next Doctor Who adventure :D

(Oh, btw, all those idiots who were saying that Doctor Who’s ratings have been falling and that a female Doctor would kill the show off, so far this series the ratings have been at its highest since the show came back in 2005. Guess the reason why the ratings were low during the Moffat era wasn’t because of the World Cup, warm weather, streaming television or SJW propoganda. It was because Steven Moffat is a really shit writer. Go figure)

[challengerbmxmag]

Sam Waller Interview

Sam Waller co-runs, the UK based Central Library, “a shop in the North West of England that sells zines, DVDs and other interesting bits and pieces.” He’s also part of the current resurgence of quality independent BMX media with his Red Steps magazine. In addition to that he finds the time to contribute to Challenger with his quarterly column, ‘Notes From A Fancy Island’ and of course, ride. And, when you talk to Sam, you can tell that riding reigns supreme.

Sam and I email back and forth fairly often because of the column but also about other random stuff like old spots, concrete skateparks, music, etc. It’s fun to email with Sam so I figured it would also be fun to ask Sam some more in-depth questions. Hit the link below for the full interview.

All photos by Gaz Hunt. Thanks, Gaz!

I know you live in Manchester, England now but where did you grow up and what is your BMX origin story? I grew up in the complete middle of nowhere in a place called Colton in the south of the Lake District. Whilst the countryside in film and television is often shown as a tranquil, quaint place, the reality is a fair bit different, and Colton in particular seemed like a hotbed for strange stuff going on. Only recently a large farmhouse was burned down by a wild woman who owned loads of pigs. She was exiled from the county, but the pigs remained to cause havoc.

Anyway, my older brother has played guitar since he was six or seven, but as I was a useless at it and couldn’t get my hands to move properly, I felt obliged to find a similar all-encompassing past-time.

I was mad on Formula 1 racing for a while (thoughts go out to the Schumacher family), and I went to a karate lesson once (a hobby quickly scrapped after the whole hour was spent being taught how to bow honourably), but up until the age of 12 or 13 it just felt like I was dawdling about.

All of this changed when, for some reason I’m not entirely sure of, me and my friends decided to make some jumps and drops and stuff to ride on our mountain bikes in some woods near a dual carriageway.

One of my friends knew some older lads from nearby who had proper bikes and Little Devil hoodies, so I think they must have planted the seed of raditude with him, but I think at that time I was just happy to be out the house and not playing Tekken 2. We later found out that the woodland we’d chosen was a popular dogging site frequented by truck drivers (I'm not sure if 'dogging' exists in America - maybe look it up), and quickly moved our spades and everything into another forest. By that point the damage was done and my mind was snagged.

After a bit of bouncing about on a mountain bike, I then splashed out on a second hand Standard that someone had painted post-box red, affixed some stunt nubs and never looked back (or lookbacked, for that matter).

The nearby town of Ulverston had a pretty big riding and skating scene, but thinking now about us lot trying to lay down ‘street style’ in this small historic market town, we may as well have been the Jamaican bobsleigh team — the rough ledges were strictly for stalls, and the closest thing to a flatbank was a grass verge round the back of a Texaco garage.

What were some of your biggest inspirations as a kid and what about now? I always think about how the 16 year old me would probably make fun of some of the things I'm into now. Is that the case with you at all? Apart from the receding hairline and the slight increase in responsibilities, I think I’ve stayed pretty much exactly the same since I was 16. Back then I think my favourite film was probably Natural Born Killers, and my favourite album was maybe something like Bad Moon Rising by Sonic Youth. Whilst I’ve maybe expanded my interests a little, I’ve pretty much been in a rut since then.

I’m not into memes or internet humour in the slightest, but I remember someone once showing me a video of a wrestling fan in America crying and shouting, “It’s still real to me, dammit.” That’s how I feel about a lot of things I was into back then. A lot of people who I went to school with moved on from being into music and films and pissing around on bikes, whilst I’m still snagged on it all, listening to The Minutemen and wearing check shirts. It’s pretty stupid really.

What's The Fancy Island? Good question. Just next to Strangeways prison and only a mere stone’s throw from Manchester’s slick centre, lies a true rat-pit of questionable activity. I’ve seen loads of stuff happen here, such as an aggressive man chase a prostitute with a two-by-four and a creep lying in an alley trying to lure small boys into his lair.

In amongst all this, there’s loads of naff wholesale shops that sell everything from low-end Halloween costumes to fake Air Jordans made out of cardboard and fuzzy felt. All these shops have mad names like EEZZEE and Vibe Centre.

Getting to the point now, coming up with titles for things is pretty difficult, so a few years ago when I was cobbling together a zine, I nicked the name Urban Mist from one of these shops, and then, when I went to set up a Tumblr during the carefree pre-Instragram era, I nabbed ‘Fancy Island’ from a similar establishment.

I think Fancy Island has closed down now, but it’s no doubt been replaced with yet another shop with a daft name selling cheap batteries and t-shirts with swear words on the front.

Whilst I’m explaining names, I’ll state that Red Steps is a classic spot in Manchester that I ride past on my way to work every day. It boasts a rusty, needle-thin flatrail, a few small stair-sets (that are indeed red) and a large flow of gormless students to crash into. I’m not too sure why I named a magazine after it, but it just struck me as a funny name for a spot and I was struggling to think of anything else.

One thing I struggle with is balancing how to take BMX seriously while balancing a sense of humor about it as well; i.e. it's pretty goofy but is also this amazing vehicle for new experiences, ideas, and a pretty incredible community. Do you ever think about this? Like with most things in life (except crucial necessities like eating and breathing), riding bikes is pretty stupid and abstract if you try and think about it too hard. That said, I don’t see why bike riding should look goofy (apart from actual goofy-footed grinding - as a self-confessed goofy grinder myself I’ve got a lot of time for George D, Ralph and Dave McDermott) — riding is loads better than pretty much all other activities, but it’s constantly being made to look daft, when it could so easily look dope.

I think to stay juiced and not turn sour, you’ve got to completely ignore most things going on with riding and stick firmly to the bits that you like. I treat riding like music or films or anything else. In the same way I don’t go to the cinema to watch big summer blockbusters, I don’t spend my free time watching Corey Martinez edits or endless hours of footage from some zany mega-comp.

I’m a simple man. As far as riding is concerned, I like smith grinds, bottles of Heineken, Galaxy chocolate, black and white photos, sitting on benches and talking complete nonsense. The rest of it is irrelevant to me.

I constantly hear/read people complain about the lack of BMX magazines but there's so much cool stuff being printed right now. We've discussed this in email a bit but it seems weird that people are complaining. It's almost like people just have an idea of what they think a magazine should be and if it doesn't have look or read a certain way they are just confused. How do you feel about all of this? A solid group of people do buy things and support these independent projects and whatnot, but I think it’ll take a while for the loud-mouthed Instagram warlords to come to terms with the fact that the new magazines around might have different names to the ones they used to subscribe to 15 years ago. I suppose it’s maybe easier to talk about the lack of magazines out there than actually go to the effort of seeking them out, but having said that, it’s not exactly hard to find stuff these days.

I remember years ago hunting down anything beyond Dig or Ride was an absolute hassle involving a lot of e-mail mither and blind faith - but now with yourself, Berks St. and 90East stocking interesting stuff in America, me and Clarky doing Central Library over here and the newly formulated Wiretap down under, it’s easier than ever for anyone to get their hands on zines and DVDs and all that.

The new stuff that’s coming out now is ten times better than Dig or Ride ever were anyway. Endless contest reports and dull bike checks have fallen by the wayside, and I haven’t seen a photo of Jimmy Levan’s zebra-print leggings in years. Things are really looking up.

What do you do for work? Thoughts on pursuing money via BMX and also what's the best job you've ever had? By day I work in an office writing stuff for a clothes shop. As you can imagine, trying to come up with an interesting way to talk about the 659th blue shirt you’ve seen this week can get a bit tough, but I can’t complain too much really. The office is fairly warm and there’s a kettle in the kitchen.

As for pursuing ‘serious wonga’ via riding, I’m one step ahead of you. Central Library has just received big investment from Duncan Bannatyne and Deborah Meaden (of Dragon’s Den fame), meaning we’re finally able to stock all those bizarre Caramac-coloured tyres that real bike shops seem to stock. We’re also expanding our print line to offer crime fiction and the Goosebumps novels. My main aim in life is to become one of those creepy industry characters who spends their time sniffing around young and naïve talent in the hopes of flogging a few ‘dad caps’.

My finest job was probably working for my dad in the family trade of dry stone walling (which explains my surname). I’m not sure if dry stone walls exist in America, but they’re those fairly humble looking stone walls you see dividing up the fields and forests around the English countryside.

Anyway, building them isn’t too bad as far as manual labour goes. When it’s raining and you’re miles up some hill wallowing in the mud lugging big stones around with nothing more for lunch than a chicken and mushroom Pot Noodle and a Penguin biscuit, then it’s a little miserable – but on a good day when the sun is shining and you’re working with ‘good stone’, it’s hard to beat.

The best days were when my dad would fall asleep just a few minutes before the end of the lunch hour, basically extending the break for at least another 45 minutes. Thinking about this job now, I’m not sure why I ever gave it up.

Do you have any other hobbies besides riding? Yeah, but I’d say the lines were pretty blurred. This is maybe a pretty boring answer, but I suppose riding lends itself to other hobbies pretty well. I might be wrong, but I don’t think keen swimmers or budding javelin-throwers get into photography or making videos in quite the same way. It’s sort of like the ‘pillars of hip-hop’ or something – riding, taking pictures, messing round with video stuff and generally snooping around all fits together nicely (or at least it does in my peppered mind).

It’s not like I’m slipping on my Etnies t-shirt for my weekly two hour power sesh and then the next night I’m wearing some short-shorts down at the climbing wall. Even when I’m on holiday with my wife, I’m still just snooping around the same way - we’re not buying tickets for some naff rollercoaster or dining out at exclusive restaurants with Abe Froman.

Are you able to take time off of riding and not feel like you're missing out or feel guilty? I have one friend who really goes in on the guilt tripping if I don't ride. Related: You said you like sitting on benches. Can you do that on a nice day? At the age of 28, I’d like to feel like I can just about deal with a few missed sessions. Obviously I still need a comprehensive run down of spots seshed and feats accomplished when I’m away, but it’d be mad if I was out all the time. The human body can’t handle that much raditude.

Fear of things going un-photographed does creep in sometimes, but Clarky will have filmed it anyway, and Gaz and Wozzy are better photographers than me, so if they’re about then hopefully someone caught the action.

Moving onto the subject of benches, these babies really come into play during my dinner break at work. I get on fine with everyone there, but when the clock strikes twelve I’m not going to be sat in the office spilling reheated chilli over my keyboard… I’m straight out into the city centre on full sit-off mode – hopefully getting into some daft conversation with one of Manchester’s many vagabonds.

A few months ago I was sat in town when I was approached by a fairly scruffy gentleman who was bleeding loads from his forehead after someone kneed him in the skull. The rest of my lunch break was spent trying to sort him out a bit. One meal deal, some wet wipes and a pack of king-skins later, he seemed alright. You don’t get these hijinks sat inside all day.  

I was just thumbing through the new Red Steps (nice job) and I just realized how much I enjoy your interviews -- what is it that you like about interviews? Not trying to stroke the ego here but you are really good at it... Cheers. Any ego strokes are much appreciated. This maybe sounds a bit daft, but I want to know everything. This is probably evident to the people who know me, but I’m a complete mither, completely hassling everyone with questions all the time.

This pesky nature extends into everything, meaning that I spend a lot of time reading a lot of interviews about the things that I’m into. I buy a lot of old copies of magazines like Wire, Ray Gun and Sidewalk on eBay, and even though the interviews contained within those pages might have been conducted in the corner of a pub maybe 25 years ago, they’re still worth reading today.

A proper interview with a little intro and some photos laid out nicely on a page… it’s mint – it’s a finished thing – sort of like a well-edited video or something. I know a lot of people are into ‘podcasts’ these days, and that’s fair enough, but to me – they’re not complete enough. I don’t want to hear people say ‘um’ and ‘err’ all the time, and I want something sick to look at (and by that, I don’t mean a load of pundits sat around a table with headphones on).  

I’m going to rattle on here whilst I’ve got the chance. Anyone reading this who gets the opportunity to answer questions for an interview, a ‘bike check’ or anything else…don’t just write a lazy sentence for each answer – go mad. Tell some funny stories. Or if you’ve got nothing to say, just make something up. No one cares about how responsive your headtube angle is or how you ‘usually just cut the bars down’. This could be your only chance to air your thoughts into the wider world, and you’re going on about what PSI you put in your tyres? COME ON PLEASE TRY HARDER YOU BORING GIMPS.

(above) Spread from Sam’s zine, Latvia Photos. (below) Cover of Sam’s zine, Around Town.

You also make photo zines/books not related to riding. Do you have any high art aspirations with this stuff? No real aspirations I’m afraid. Wine gives me bad heartburn, so I generally try and swerve anything resembling a gallery opening schmooze-off. As I was sort of saying before, making photo zines is just an extension of everything else. I like taking photographs, so it makes sense to put them together. It’s all pretty small-time really – it’s not like I’m getting thousands printed.

To be honest, it’s all a complete faff that I could easily avoid by not bothering and just sitting around watching American power-dramas, but it’s good to have stuff to look back on – even if it’s just a 40 page zine that nine people will see.

Crouching under a tattered old curtain processing rolls of film every night whilst being mithered by my cat isn’t particularly glamorous and I’d imagine there are probably easier ways to get cosy with the artistic elite.

What's your favorite slang word? Going back to my walling days, my dad uses some pretty intriguing slang terms. Unlike inner-city slang, which will usually be documented in music or useless BBC3 comedies, these more rustic words don’t get much recognition. I don't use these terms myself, but I certainly respect them. Here’s a few choice cuts…

“A few skins on the job” – a large workforce “Keitel” – a fairly humble work-jacket “Bait” – lunch “Bray it – hit it “Kessen” – when an unclipped sheep falls over onto its back and can’t get up due to its weight. This happens more often than you’d think.

You can buy scoop up a copy of Sam’s magazine, Red Steps, in the Challenger web shop here, look at the online shop, The Central Library, that Sam runs with Clarky here, and check out some of his other photo zines/books here.

[purkkaklubi-blog]

Shoegaze

a Bit background to one of the most underappreciated genres of the 90s, how the revival of the scene has brought a whole new generation of youth to redefine the genre and what impact the woozy, spinning, swirling, distorted guitar sounds has on me.  

I heard about shoegazing first time in 2015. I was listening to quite a lot of Sonic Youth at the time which I guess was the reason on how I found My Bloody Valentine through Spotify algorithm. First thoughts were okay this is nice but doesn’t really evoke any special feelings in me. I just thought it was less poppy and more ’indie’ spin on the 90s alternative rock and grunge scene. Surely now I know I will always go through a small fact and background check on artists, genres, labels and albums before I make any further assumptions on how artistically remarkable something is. Back then I was a bit ignorant on popular-cultures music history. I knew the basics, Elvis and The Beatles, how white men made Disco cool for the white audience, Punk Rock scene breaking out in UK and across the sea beginning of the Rap and DJ scene, synth sounds in your every favorite 80’s aerobic videos, Kurt Cobain’s sudden death shaking the whole rock world, shiny pop stars rising and falling.

I thought back then that good music is good music. Music being boxed into a certain genre didn’t bring any new artistic meaning into it and putting on labels was only limiting and blurring our minds from the actual sounds. Now it seems like the only way I know how to wrap my head around new music is to put labels on them. Maybe i’m not a free soul anymore finding only pleasures in sounds that elaborate with my every unspoken thought and emotion in the comfort of my own bedroom and in the warmness of my bed. Maybe i’ve become and seem to some of you like a boring music square who is ready to start battling you with my non-existing musical knowledge while being blissfully drunk at the que outside the entrance of a club. Maybe I’m overthinking and actually me taking interests in the backgrounds of different music scenes show that i’m passionate and appreciative towards this beautiful art form that has been given to us. In this world where I can’t see sense and find reason behind anything I find it calming that I can analyze and make clear distinctions between different musical styles. That sounds more like this and this sounds more like that. i’m not an absolutist but obviously through history people have always tried to find answers to their questions. We feel anxiety and nervousness when we’re on a mind puzzle we cannot solve. It being possible that music can be pinned down and defined brings me tranquility.

Well, Shoegaze is a bit different for me. I can’t completely pin down what it is cause it feels and sounds that it has gotten influence from so many genres and the origins of where it all began is very blurry.

Shoegaze began to rise somewhere middle of the 80s. In my last post I mentioned about this Scottish ethereal gothic band called Cocteau Twins. Robin Guthrie the guitarist of this certain band began to use the effect pedals in his guitar work. Back in the day he stated that the idea of using pedals came from the lack of sound and texture in electric guitars but later on admitted that it was actually the lack of his own technical skills that made him start to use the effect pedals. Whatever the reason behind it was I’m grateful that he began to use them. Pedals enabled the possibility to create guitar sounds that were atmospheric and otherworldly. Using effects like delay, reverb, distortion, fuzz etc created these layered textures called wall of sounds that combined many genres at the same time. Noise, Drone, Psychedelic, Progressive, Lo-fi even Ambient. Maybe that’s why I’m so fascinated about it. It’s one specific genre but same time you also hear the inspiration coming from the 60s psychedelic bands, Gothic Rock, Noise Rock etc. You get lost because you think it’s a genre on its own balance but then you start to put the pieces together and find out that it has combined all these things together to make it as one. Then again you know it has its own definite style and not just any kind of music made with pedals can be defined as Shoegaze. You need that woozy, head spinning, swirling guitar that takes you on a musical trip. I feel like shoegazers are the ultimate music fans and their process of making something new was looking back at the bands and the music that they loved.

But besides Cocteau Twins or Jesus and the Mary Chain and their noise pop sound it was the defining moment of 1988 debut album Isn’t Anything by My Bloody Valentine and the single You Made Me Realise that a genre was born. From My Bloody Valentine bands like Slowdive, Ride, Chapterhouse, Swervedriver etc got inspiration for their work that on.

So, why is it called Shoegaze? The term was invented by music media, actually specifically by one NME journalist who referred the artists as shoegazers because of their way of performing on stage. They lacked of presence and connection with the audience due the heavy use of guitar effect pedals which led them to stare at their feet all the time so they could switch their pedals right. Often times they were kind of like step dancing through the sets because of the amount of effect shifting. Shoegazer was a slur word in that time and was only used in an offensive way. There wasn't really a lot of appreciation and understanding shown towards the scene. Grunge and Brit pop scenes were hitting hard on that time and music media was praising enormously acts like Nirvana and Oasis. Anything that was considered Shoegaze or related to it was doomed to get bad reviews when it was released. In the end supporters and gigs got smaller and smaller and labels like Creation had to let their Shoegaze artists go. 

The history with how Shoegaze was perceived saddens me. To me the music sounds and feels that it was a way ahead of it’s time. Electronica and the so called ’indie pop’ music we have now wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for Shoegaze. Music medias harshness made it hard to be taken seriously and made the scene look like wimpy angsty teens mocking rock music with their amateurish noise playing. Luckily the change of that has come.

Through the whole 00s Shoegaze and Dream pop stayed as an underground scene but in 2010s it began to come back on surface. In 2013 My Bloody Valentine released their 3rd album called MBV, 20 years later when Loveless the 2nd album was released. I think the most significant moment of how Shoegaze is being known again pin points to the digital era we’re living now and social media. Internet and the possibility to access information nowadays is easier and travels faster. You don’t have to go into a record store anymore and spend 8 hours of searching and listening to different albums you have probably picked because of the cover or the name of the artist or band or on what ever genre section it’s in. There is of course nice and authentic feeling into it but all i’m saying is that it takes time and what we have now you can be minutes away from your favorite music. Problem in the 90s was that they didn't have enough promotion and a proper platform to be shown on. Now people can make more decisions based on their own mind and not on what the industry and critics are promoting us. Of course you have to be willing to go searching different informative platforms because the music is not handed to you. Music that is handed has the most radio playing and pop on your recommended page on Youtube, Spotify etc. That music has the most skilled promotion and advertising which means the industry is placing more of their finances in them. It’s strictly business. On Spotify I’m not talking about the recommended artist page which can appear if I listen to a certain artist. That’s based on the algorithm of what other listeners who listen to that specific artist also listen to. I’m talking about the browse page where the first playlists you see are probably something like ”Hits right now!” or ”Top 50 Viral” which are promoted playlists including promoted artists.

Thanks to the internet as a platform Shoegaze has started spreading again without the help of the industry and critique reviews. New bands have come who are inspired of Shoegaze and are making music influenced by that genre. The musical form of the 90s movement has moved on to being Nu-gaze. Nu-gaze is a term to describe a new wave form of Shoegaze. New bands like Wild Nothing and Deerhunter are infusing the old characteristics with other genres and new producing techniques. Also the original form of the genre is very tied to the period it existed in and is a 90s youth scene more than an actual genre so there’s a reason it’s impossible to be a traditionalist in that sense.

Things are looking up. Literally. Because the media can’t crush these new up-comers with their name-calling or ridiculous criticism of being the ”scene that celebrates itself”.

They’re not consistently gazing at their shoes, they’re gazing at something new.

I’ve made a list of 4 essential albums which includes the so called Holy Trinity of Shoegaze. Imagine of having this family tree where these three bands are the founders and when you go up, the branches are separating into other sections of noisier -, dreamier - and ’indie rockier’  Shoegaze. Then there’s a 6 album list recommended by me which contains traditional Shoegaze and Nu-Gaze. The 4 essentials are a must-know if you want to engage with this scene and understand the stylistic features of the music.  

4 essential albums

1. Jesus and the Mary Chain - Psychocandy

Psychocandy isn’t actually a Shoegaze album more like Noise Pop and avantgardist Proto-Punk but I listed it here as an essential because of the impact this album did have on this genre that was about to come. The guitar lead blurred by noisiness in the whole album was one of the main

inspirations for Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine. Distorted Guitar leads are defining sound of Shoegaze and this album gives a wide spectrum of static sounds like the pixel rain in your old tv.

This 1985 debut album by band lead by two brothers Jim and William Reid is a wonder work of teenage I don’t give a fuck how I play, I just play. They didn’t care about the looks and actually about anything. Their style of playing and making music was messy, sloppy and lazy as they wanted it to be, it showed the rebelliousness they had against falling into the same patterns and roles as other musicians, not wanting to be molded as the rockstars with all the booze and women (even though they did get heavily drunk while performing). It doesn’t really contain the real social statements of punk rock but still has that familiar adolescent rebellion. Psychocandy found inspiration from 60s girl groups and was filled with easy poppy 3-chord progressions which were masterfully hid with all the noise.

Favorite tracks: Just Like Honey, Taste of Cindy, My Little Underground, Never Understand

2. My Bloody Valentine - Loveless  (Holy Trinity, part of the noisy side)

The 2nd studio album they released in 1991 after the Shoegaze pioneering album Isn’t Anything, My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless makes you think of the bright vibrant intensive colors and hues burning out, melting and mixing together. It has a tense feeling of abstraction. it’s expressed in a way of mind you can’t express it, not with words at least. Kevin Shields work seems to come from some what sub-conscious mind that is trying to tell you emotions he has. Not with words but with sounds. The whole album is strongly based only on guitar leads and in the engineering of them. Which is probably why Kevin was obsessed with getting the effects and mixing into perfection. In one of Kevin’s interviews he stated that the problem was in the recording sessions, it was nearly impossible the get even the smallest frequencies heard. This album approximately cost 250 000 pounds, it took 2 years to record and the band visited 9 studios in total. After it’s release Creation Records went bankrupt and there has been a bit pointing fingers between both parties on who’s to blame for the downfall. What ever side your on Loveless is a well-deserved masterpiece and all the trouble that went along with it had a meaning into it. I’ll always imagine though if hypothetically financial problems wouldn’t be the issue would’ve there been even more different sound layers and textures? Would’ve it taken even more time to be released? 2 years or maybe even 5? Well we can tell that MBV the 3rd album took 20 years to be released so maybe we can count from that.

Favorite tracks: Only Shallow, When you Sleep, Sometimes

3. Slowdive - Souvlaki (Holy Trinity, part of the dreamy side)

Souvlaki is personally my favorite Shoegaze album. Brian Eno the godfather of ambient worked on three songs here and you can hear the ambient touch he gave into it. This 1993 released 2nd studio album by Slowdive is beautifully made timeless classic that stands out with it’s capability to unite heart-breaking melancholy with the optimistic hopefulness of the future. This kind of music can only come out from a teenagers or young adults mind. It brings that authenticity of emotionality that carries through the younger years when you haven’t build a thick skin yet. The way how the dreamy and hazy sounds and vocals have been tied together with Neil Halstead’s sensitive song-writing builds up into this climax of a cry baby music, in a good way. Souvlaki is a breakup album between the two band members Rachel Goswell, the guitarist and vocalist and Neil Halstead, the second guitarist, vocalist, producer and song-writer. It’s like reading their open diary posts. Their love of writing, playing and producing music was bigger than the personal issues they had so they decided to push them aside and stay professional. All that was kept unsaid transformed into poetic song-writing. Both of them showed truly artistic behavior while noticing the circumstances they were working on. Unfortunately media hated it and called it a soulless and outdated piece of work. After the 3rd album Pygmalion they were signed off and left to pay the rest of the US tour on its halfway. At least they’re getting now the credit they deserved and are back on touring. 2017 they released a new Self-titled comeback album Slowdive which is highly recommendable also.

Favorite tracks: Alison, Machine Gun, When the Sun Hits, Dagger (I could pick them all though)

4. Ride - Nowhere (Holy Trinity, part of the 90s more typical alternative side)

Ride’s 1990 released debut album is a dynamic work of guitar distortion that creates a crashing wall of sound. Like the waves moving upwards and downwards while growing into spirally holes which speed up and eventually shatter when they hit the seashore. And in that same scenery the sounds of the rumbling wind that pierce your eardrums. That is the main feeling that Nowhere contains. It’s an album focused on high energy. It has more melodic and rhythmic patterning and simple song-crafting compared to the other Shoegaze essentials. Ride was signed to Creation Records in 1989 when Alan McGee found interest in them after one of their demos Jesus and Mary Chain’s Jim Reid had a hold on. They were the few Shoegazing bands that had the opportunity of experiencing commercial success and Nowhere hit 11. place in the UK charts. Andy Bell and Mark Gardener had artistic differences between what style direction the band should move on. Their childish arguments and battling with it eventually broke the band in 1996 and the members Bell, Gardener, Laurence Colbert and Steve Queralt moved on to different projects. Bell for example became the bassist of the Brit-Pop band Oasis. In 2015 they reunited on touring and released a new Album Weather Diaries in 2017. Like many other Shoegaze bands Ride wasn’t and still isn’t a fan of being categorized as a Shoegaze band stating that it’s a boring tag. They still have a place on being one of the most influencing and essential bands in shoegazing history.

Favorite tracks: In a Different Place, Vapour trail, Dreams Burn Down

6 albums i recommend:

1. Asobi Seksu - Citrus (Nu-Gaze)

This 2nd studio album released 2006 by the Brooklyn based band is lyrically a smooth mix of english and Japanese language together with poppy candy-colored tunes flourished with happiness. Citrus is a refreshing take on Shoegaze. Yuki Chikudate’s adorably pitched and pretty vocals are a candy topping on a pile of upbeat guitar leads that are washed out with loads of effects and drums which are equally noticeable. In total it’s a catchy album with some jingly-jangle Nu-Gaze pop-tunes.

Favorite Tracks: Red Seas, Exotic Animal Paradise, Thursday

  2.  Loveliescrushing - Bloweyelashwish (Shoegaze)

Recorded with a simple four-track recorder, 1993 released debut album Bloweyelashwish by Loveliescrushing is an innovative work of otherworldly and precisely structured fuzzy sounds with some interesting choices of additional instruments. Often mistaken of using keyboards Scott Cortes the guitarist and second vocalist used forks, knives, vibrators, paint scrapers and so on to find new creative ways to make his guitar work even more stretched out. His extremely reverbed and lushed guitar leads, thanks to the technical additions, builds up a gothic atmosphere into the sound landscape. The noisy sounds are hectic, evolving and moving towards to this chaotic drone that feels like it’s eating up all the space and becoming a massive blackhole of squeaky static sounds that create a sonic boom. Paired up with softly haunting and beautifully ethereal vocals of Melissa Arpin the duo has made an impressive first album that’s an escape to other world where soothing hypnotizing sounds are waves where you can float on and sink into the bottom of deep ambience.

Favorite Tracks: Moinaexquisitewallflower, Sugaredglowing, Crushing, Darkglassdolleyes

3. Pinkshinyultrablast - Everything Else Matters (Nu-Gaze)

St. Petersburg based band called Pinkshinyultrablast which is named after one of Astrobrite’s albums is a band thats inspiration runs deep in the waters of Shoegaze. 2013 released debut album Everything Else Matters is a strong mix of electronica with extremely delayed vocals of the singer Lyubov Soloveva that bounces between the walls until the ever-growing guitar lead comes in-front of it all with adrenaline pumped kiddy sort of energy. Playful melody and thunderous pop styling of the album makes it one of the many Nu-gaze albums that give a solid ground to it’s genre.

Favorite tracks: Wish We Were, Holy Forest, Umi

4.  Medicine - Shot Forth Self Living (Shoegaze)

The noise bottom of shoegazing, Shot Forth Self Living the 1992 debut album by American band Medicine is definitely not suitable for everyone but which has such an intensive and massive static explosion that it has to be noted. The screeching textures of guitar feedback seem to claw their way through your skin until it’s scratched into burning and flaming red rash caused by the noise extremeness. Medicine was the first American band that got a record deal from the British independent label Creation Records. It has been praised of being one of the closest american acts to My Bloody Valentine but I like to think that they brought their own unique touch to the noisy shoegazing scene and weren’t just a follow-ups. They dig deeper into the distorted, fuzzed almost intolerable noise sounds. I shall warn you: do not listen to this album with maximum level of volume. Especially with headphones, i’m pretty sure your hearing would get a bit damaged.  

Favorite Tracks: Love You Anywhere, To Your Friends, The Powder

5. Lilys - In the Presence of Nothing (Shoegaze)

Lilys is an interesting band considering the stylistic changes it has gone through the years. First album starting of with the My Bloody Valentine inspired Shoegaze where it took its next direction to another spaces of dream pop, then sudden not-expected obscure change to Mod Revival and the latest releases go back to the bands early roots of more psychedelic rock and shoegazing style. Also it consists only one permanent band member Kurt Heasley and ever-changing visiting members. 1992 first studio album In the Presence of Nothing is characteristically clear Shoegaze album. It has that up-front woozy and distorted guitar with vocals hid underneath that are the main basic shoegazing style My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless defined. It might be a wave rider but it has that alternative rock’s charm that stands on it’s own.    

Favorite Tracks: There Is No Such Things As Black Orchids, Elizabeth Colour Wheel, Tone Bender

6. M83 - Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts (Nu-Gaze)

Unlike the other Nu-gaze or Shoegaze picks I’ve selected in here 2003 released 2nd studio album Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts by M83 focuses on heavy robotic synthesizer sounds instead of more organic and analogically produced guitar effects. French Electronic Group assembled together by producers Anthony Gonzales, Nicolas Fromageau, Nicolas Barlet and Morgan Daguenet have concentrated producing more of instrumental tracks than ones backed up with vocals. The small amount of vocals this album has are filtered with effects that create an artificial human sound. Signature move of creating heavily breath-taking and majestic chord-progressions which overflow into softly tuned harmonic static until peacefully vanishing away Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts is a standout piece of electronic noise producing. Last song of the album Beauties Can Die floats gently into this complete silence near middle of the song and rises back up from the dark void with evolving synth strings. Something that I haven’t heard more in music producing. Don’t know if it’s just the cheap quality of my speakers that can’t capture all the frequencies of the sound waves or is it just meant to be that way, it brings a fascinating structure to the song anyways.  

Favorite Tracks: Run Into Flowers, Be Wild, On a White Lake Near a Green Mountain

Last Words:

In this album listing I tried to focus on recommending albums where you can clearly hear the layered guitars. Especially with the Nu-gaze picks where you can tell it’s definitely influenced by shoegazing. This time there was more experimental albums than albums that could reach a pop success. The focus mainly still was on guitar textures and producing. There’s a bit mixed opinions between what is and what can not be considered Shoegaze. I switched up the albums back and forth from the list cause I wasn’t satisfied with the guitar textures and felt like they were too distant from shoegazing after all which is the reason this post took time to come out. Also back a while ago I found this Tumblr post that was a take on one of Kevin Shields interviews where there is revealed that the actual inspiration for shoegazing was drawn from the american grunge scene. I tried to search how legit it was but couldn’t find a source proper enough in my opinion so I decided to stick with the story that media and all the music enthusiasts support. Went through podcasts, interviews with the artists and old concert footage to find more information. I’m obviously not a skillful writer but I focus on giving accurate information and I hope I managed to get to the bottom of this genre in the most simplest way.

Rey

[shark-myths]

Folie A Deux

I promised to write FAD meta like, forever ago. It took longer than I planned. Here it is, at last.

Folie is anthemic, artistic; it’s cynicism and heartbreak all layered up in failing hope. It’s Pete saying goodbye to his band and embarking on a new life as a husband and a father. It’s Patrick finding his confidence as a showman just in time for it to turn to ash on his tongue and prompt him to remake himself utterly. It’s Joe finally feeling like he has a role in FOB and creative ownership of his own band. It’s Andy, um, drumming. Super well. Without any particular emotional interpretation on my part because Andy’s, you know, pretty content to just play with his friends.

Without further blathering, allow me to present, at long last: a rambling, tear-filled, official Tryst Theory ™ interpretation of FOB’s fourth-and-almost-final studio album.

I am always struck most by the quality of obstruction in the albums produced during the Commercial Success/’Sell Out’ era. Pete begins obscuring himself for the first time during Infinity on High and especially Folie A Deux: the lyrics become increasingly senseless, more about cleverness and sound that saying things plainly. But he’s so honest during this era too. He tells us exactly what it feels like to be him, to be so pulled apart and scrutinized and sad, to be sick on his own hope. To be sick and fuzzy, made of stuffing, and far away on way-too-many anxiety meds. We get lines that don’t make much sense on the surface, like ‘I’m not a chance, put a heat wave in your pants,’ and we get the self-aware aggression of bops like I Don’t Care.

In the previous era, Pete didn’t really know what it meant, yet—being Pete Wentz. Being so public. Being the face of the band, being the bad guy and the heel. What it would cost. Now he understands that anything he touches, or looks at, or says at loud is going to change. Once he does it, says it, thinks it, feels it, it’s out of his control. It’s owned by someone else. Even his private body, his private phone. Even his decision to defend his friend from an aggressive bouncer onstage. The brand of phone he carries, the girls he texts, who he stands next to in photos, the cities where he plays shows and the cities he does not. Now he understands that his life is not his, but something the public will use to hurt him if we get bored. This is drugstore cowboy Pete. This is a Pete grown so heavy under the weight of his own misery and bullshit that he can barely go on. This is a Pete preparing to say goodbye.

Which is a long way of saying: Folie A Deux fucks me up.

 A little history (sourced heavily from Wikipedia):

The album was recorded from July-September 2008, beginning two months after Pete and Ashlee were married, and released in December 2008, shortly after Bronx was born. They started recording ahead of schedule, without telling the label, and deliberately limited their studio time. They wanted to recapture what they had felt during Grave, when they were racing against their drained back accounts to get the album set down. They wanted that simplicity and rawness, the feeling of being mixed-up kids half living out of a van and making music that felt vibrant and essential. Patrick told AP, “There was something really interesting about that creative process when we were starting out. The more time you have, the more potential you have for excess.” (He thought he dominated Infinity and wanted to pare himself back, reign himself in, for Folir.) They tried to emulate the process and feeling of Grave as much as possible: “first-thought, best-thought.” Joe pushed to be included more in collaboration and felt like he “owned the songs a lot more. It made me really excited about contributing to Fall Out Boy and made me find my role in the band.” Pete made an effort (this is him making an effort, okay) to keep his personal life more sequestered from the writing and use more metaphor and the conceit characters speaking lines, more like a stage musical. And, perhaps true to the feeling of Grave, Pete and Patrick fought painfully and violently over the record. It was personal and artistic for everyone. They felt it was their best work.

Fans tore them apart, of course. Booing anytime they played anything off the new record. The album undersold and public reception did not match the glowing critical reviews. They tried to say something important, to talk about society and convey real messages in their music. They were publicly rebuffed. Joe told Rolling Stone, “Some of us were miserable on stage. Others were just drunk.” The reception, the struggle, cemented what Pete had already decided to do: leave the band.

(Let’s not talk about the last song of what he thought would be their last show ever during which, instead of playing Saturday with his best friends and his me-and-Pat, he had the man who named the band in the first place shave off his signature Pete Wentz hair in a symbolic ritual of fucking morning, let’s not let’s not)

(but in case you want to)

 A little cover art:

I just want you to know that Pete Wentz has the original painting of that cover in his home. IN CASE YOU THINK THAT’S RELEVANT.

This image. With Pete’s furry history. With the costumes and feeling like a zoo animal and playing the role of the heel, with the way he said in the Folie Making Of video that being perceived in media is “like wearing a costume, you’re not who you are.” With his interest especially in bears, the talk of stitches and stuffing and seams, with the Lullabye track and ‘honey is for bees silly bear’ (and Black Cards’ ‘you’re my best friend, honeycomb head’) and the whole Winnie the Pooh vibe. With the devoted companionship and singular love exhibited by Winnie the Pooh and the way he turns back into inert, lifeless stuffing when you grow too old and you forget what he really is and see him as just a toy, empty and pliable, and the way only childhood wonder and innocence can return him to life. How the cover has not just one person on it, but a bear-boy plus one: a madness shared by two. A real bear, and someone who’s just pretending, or just trying to be. What a match, what a catch.

WHAT A PETERICK MASTERPIECE THIS FUCKING ALBUM IS

The liner notes are empty, by the way. For the physical CD. The liner notes are just pictures and names of band members, then production information and thanks to ‘fans, friends, and loves.’ Nothing else. No lyrics. No record. If that’s not foreshadowing—

 And now said masterpiece itself:

1. Disloyal Order of the Water Buffaloes

Okay, so let’s take a step back and imagine for a second the decision-making process that went into writing a magnum fucking opus Peterick anthem to open the album with. Are we all on the same page here? WHAT THE FUCK, were they TRYING to kill me

This album is the fucking Holy Grail of the drug use = Patrick metaphor, and we dive right into it with this one. Boycott love. Detox just to retox. DRAW YOUR OWN HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T PARALLELS. #trysttheory

For all that Pete tried to move away from autobiographical lyrics on this album, his view of himself is plain in this song: ‘perfect boys with their perfect lives, no one wants to hear you sing about tragedy.’

The line ‘fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don’t worry’ brings up my theories about what dreams mean. Falling out of bed and getting hurt is a clear consequence of dreaming so hard you forgot it was just a dream (or trysting with your best friend and forgetting there could be consequences, real people you can hurt and yourself included). ‘You’ll never remember, your head is far too blurry’ ties into w.a.m.s as well as Cooperstown and the idea of being blurry-headed, impaired because you’re fucked up on love or some other drug, and making choices you’d regret, if you could remember them. Making mistakes you’ll have to live with whether you remember them or not.

(Romantically speaking, water buffaloes are disloyal: Google suggests a single male water buffalo can sire as many as 100 baby buffs in a single mating season. It seems pretty obvious throughout this album that issues of infidelity were large in Pete’s mind while writing these lyrics.)

2. I Don’t Care

This song makes me think of Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) so much. Starting over again in Mexico, friends who don’t care about you, the blues-pop bounce to it and repeating riff? Sonically, they have a lot in common.

Pete may be playing on his previous reference to Closer (‘he tastes like you only sweeter’) with the opening line here—‘say my name and his in the same breath, I dare you to say they taste the same’—which is the saddest and most painful movie about heterosexuals you will ever watch, but writing that line and putting it on Patrick’s tongue? That may be the gayest thing that happens to me all night, guys, and I’m a queer girl with a bottle of wine and a long, long Friday evening ahead of me.

This song is so much a conversation Pete is having with the world about his fame and notoriety, imo. He calls it a narcissist’s anthem but I don’t think that’s it, exactly. I think—and the music video backs me up on this—it’s a coy wink at their own reputation, all the shit people are slinging about them and Pete specifically. We get a drug reference here, too: ‘take a chance, let your body get a tolerance.’

Also, Patrick is a nun in the video. Pete put Patrick in a literal fucking habit. What more do you need to me to say to prove definitely that Pete is desperately in love with him? This. Kid. In. A. Nun’s. Habit.

3. She’s My Winona

IF THIS SONG ISN’T A DISCUSSION OF HOW PETE HAD TO REVISE HIS PETERICK AMBITIONS WHEN HE FOUND OUT ASHLEE WAS PREGNANT

(There are so many suicide references in this song I want to join Pete and the band’s manager in cheering and celebrating all over again that our boy lived to 28. You can physically feel him resigning himself to living a long life in these verses.)

‘Hell or glory, I don’t want anything in between.’ I take this line as pretty directly about him and Patrick: he doesn’t care if they go to hell and it ruins the band, he wants to take the risk, because he thinks together they could be—glory. He wants to roll the dice. (Take a chance—I’m not a chance.) And ‘then came a baby boy with long eyelashes, and daddy said “you gotta show the world the thunder.”’ In other words, he wanted hell or glory, ruination or Patrick, but then along came his son. And his priorities changed. Of course they did. True love is one thing; raising your child is another.

‘We had a good run, even I have to admit.’

(And—here’s the thing—people ask me sometimes, what I think about Pete marrying Ashlee. “Do you think he married her just because it was the right thing to do?” No. I think he believed in love and family and forever. I think Pete believed it would work. I think he wanted it to. I think that’s why the trysting, and eventually the band, stopped: because Pete tried his fucking best. I think he loved her and loved the idea of a future for himself—the first time he’s ever really imagined that. The idea of somewhere to belong, a real family, one that he felt part of. I think he wanted more than anything for it to work precisely because it was so different from what he, or anyone else, ever expected for him. He said ‘I want to marry this girl’ and he meant it. He really did intend to love her forever, as best he could, and not love anyone else if he could help it.

But those aren’t good reasons to build a whole relationship on, a marriage on. And he was a mess, and in love with Patrick too, and hated and famous and fucked. He had no privacy, limited emotional maturity, a burgeoning substance problem and no sense of himself that wasn’t dependent on what the culture and the media and his fans and his friends reflected back to him and said was true. There was no way they could be happy together under those circumstances, and he’d have stayed forever anyway, I think. His interviews about that time—when he stopped shaving, then stopped showering; when he was a drugstore cowboy stay-at-home dad, depressed and giving up—he doesn’t blame Ashlee for wanting to leave. He hated himself enough to be miserable forever, but she didn’t. So of course it fell apart.)

4. America’s Suitehearts

This commercial headfuck of a song. Jerry christ, guys, someone throw me an anchor so I can drown myself. This caricature, the monstrosity and performance of celebrity, the way the band is reduced to wrestling alter egos, painted and pretend. No one’s being subtle with this song, this video. They are showing us exactly what they mean.

‘I must confess, I’m in love with my own sins.’

DO YOU MEAN LIKE BEING IN GAY LOVE WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND

DO YOU MEAN THAT SIN?

And this verse, though ostensibly about the vagaries of fame, sounds so much like him falling in love with Patrick while Patrick is oblivious:

‘You can bow and pretend you don’t know you’re a legend. Time just hasn’t told anyone else yet. I’m sorry, I just let my love loose again.’

For so many years, Pete believed his love was something he had to apologize for. 😭 😭 😭 😭

5. Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet

Okay, fuck this, I’m done

This fucking

This

UGH

Remember the paternity rumors at the time of Ashlee’s pregnancy? Look at this whole complicated, tangled-up song about infidelity and paternity and the idea of Ashlee cheating while Pete’s cheating too. ‘Keep a calendar, this way you will always know’ [who impregnated you]. ‘I will never end up like him. behind my back, I already am.’ I literally cannot

‘Does he know the way I worship our love’

6. The (Shipped) Gold Standard

do I even need to keep writing this or is the album now, itself, independently writing the tryst theory

my notes for this song just say ‘come the fuck on’

This song is about: living in LA and missing Chicago (and what it felt like in Chicago, who you were and who you were with); taking accountability for your own actions even when it does not satisfy your hedonistic urges (e.g., marrying your pregnant girlfriend and breaking off your illicit love affair with Patrick Stump), trying to remake your identity and change yourself like those are the same thing and you can get a new heart as easily as a new name; losing your luck and breaking up (‘tell that boy I’ll leave you alone now, like a stove, I’ll turn my love down); horseshoe crabs; and of course, that good ol’ famous-in-the-closet feel:

‘I wanna scream I love you from the top of my lungs, but I’m afraid that someone else will hear me.’

7. Coffee’s For Closers

I’m just crying by now I can’t type anymore

He’s using this whole album to break up with Patrick, to explain, to say goodbye

‘I want everything to change and stay the same. Time doesn’t care about anyone or anything. Come together, come apart.’

‘We will never believe again’

And: ‘kick drum beating in my chest again’ and that feeling, the one we’ve all felt in the pit at any show, any good one with that golden-vibe in the air, the one that makes your heart feel connected to the hearts of everyone around you, like you could be lifted on light and floating around the room, like the love is pouring out of you and rising like heat and linking up to the network of love flowing into and out of everyone else, when you feel it and know they do too and your whole body vibrates with the impossible imperceptible hum of your very atoms, your constituent fucking molecules lit up and stitched together by this, this, this. The feeling like you don’t need lungs because singing in breath and bellows enough, the feeling like the only reason you ever had a heart was so the drummer could pump it with their sticks. ‘Preach electric to the microphone stand,’ Patrick the conductor, Patrick the evangelist, Patrick the gospel of his fucking love. Pete’s saying goodbye to that feeling. Pete knows, he knows already, what he is planning to do.

Pete’s lying. Pete’s saying ‘I love the mayhem more than the love’ like all he’s really been out to do is make a mess, break hearts, take names. Like he is no more and no less than what all the tabloids say about him. (Never watch the Fresh Only Bakery videos on youtube. They are boring, for one, and also the saddest fucking Pete you will ever see.) Pete’s saying ‘I will never believe in anything again’ and he’s making Patrick say it too, because true-blue love was supposed to last forever, and then Pete got married to someone else.

‘Oh, change will come.’

8. What A Catch, Donnie

NO. NO

how the fuck dare this song even exist

So this is it. This is the goodbye. Pete has talked about how he wrote this song from Patrick’s perspective, and he recruited some of Patrick’s favorite artists and friends of the band to sing different lines in a medley of the band’s hits up to this point. This is like, the FOB song equivalent of a suicide note. (To follow this with a greatest hits album—! G O D)

The reference to Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway—their collaboration, his ultimate suicide, and the way Miss Flack looked on all his destruction and said ‘I still want you back’ is absolutely a testament to the way Patrick, and the rest of the band, forgave him and took him back in after the notorious Best Buy Incident. The gratitude for the whole band and what the band has done for Pete is tied up in this song. ‘You’ll never catch us’ smacks of trysting, and there’s something to the line ‘I’m the one who charmed the one who gave up on you,’ as the speaker in the sentence in meant to be Patrick and the ‘you’ is presumed to be Pete.

‘They say the captain goes down with the ship, so when the world ends, will God go down with it?’ is both Pete’s intention to go down with the band (which he’s planning to sink, or sees unraveling already in the painful writing process—we don’t know at what point he made his decision to destroy yet another thing he loved in penance for some deep, unknowable conviction of sin) and his gesture of setting them free. The Video of Which We Will Not Speak shows this pretty clearly. Pete saves everyone and everything he’s ever loved at the bargain price of drowning himself. He does it without ever even appearing in the aired version of the video. *broken sobbing*

(The links for the full version are not currently on Youtube, but you can read about it here: http://www.mtv.com/news/1618609/fall-out-boy-release-wrong-version-of-what-a-catch-donnie-video/)

What a match, what a catch. If I say anything else about this song, and how basically everyone who heard it knew it meant the band was going to break up, I will absolutely fall apart

9. 27

OH GOOD A SONG I CAN MAKE IT THROUGH WITHOUT CHOKING ON MY OWN TEARS

NOT

So here’s a lovely little ditty about how Pete Wentz did not kill himself and die at age 27 as he always thought he would! Hahahahahaha I’m fine it’s fine I’m so glad this album exists I’m so glad I’m TALKING ABOUT IT

‘If home is where the heart is, then we’re all just fucked.’ All three of them: Pete, Patrick, and Ashlee. And every FOB fan out there. Ahahaha. GUYS I’M NOT OKAY

We’ve got Peterick drug metaphors to rival the punch of Hold Me Tight Or Don’t: ‘I want it so bad, I’d shoot the sunshine into my veins… Doing lines of dust and sweat off of last’s night stage just to feel like you. Milligrams in my head, burning tobacco in my wind, chasing the direction you went.’

We’ve got desperation about growing and changing and losing that which they so valued in their sound and collaboration on Grave: ‘I can’t remember the good old days. Are all the good times getting gone? They come and go and come and go.’

We’ve got the pressure of keeping your love affair with your lead singer a secret lest you risk your fame, label representation, and fortune: ‘My mind is a safe, and if I keep it in we all get rich’ right next to the dirty, hollow feeling of having images of your body stolen and used to drag your name and reputation like you had no more heart than any other empty doll and losing the value of yourself in that process: ‘My body is an orphanage, we take everyone in.’

We’ve got the romantic comparison to cosmic entities, just like in Real Ones: ‘you’re a bottled star, the planets align. You’re just like Mars, you shine in the sky.’ And that tinge of disparagement and lonesomeness: ‘I’ve got a lot of friends who are stars but some are just black holes.’

10. Tiffany Blews

This song plays with a lot of fun moth/flame metaphors that I really enjoy, while also really amplifying the isolation and quick-burning nature of fame. I think that Pete gets a sick satisfaction from having Patrick sing out the worst things he thinks about himself, that he thinks everyone else thinks about him. (Pete, I think, is the little black dress that will be faded soon.)

Interestingly, we have ‘a roman candle heart keeps us far apart,’ which is a pretty direct link to the later Fourth of July. A heart that flares, explodes, and then burns out quickly certainly would be an obstacle to building a lasting relationship, no matter how much you loved someone…

‘Hate me, baby. Maybe I’m a piece of art.’

‘Dear gravity, you held me down in this starless city’ makes me think of the Moonrise Kingdom quote in Wilson (Expensive Mistakes): ‘I hope the roof flies off and we all get sucked into space.’ It’s the opposite, basically. Hoping to fall in love and get thrown up among the glittering cosmos rather than anchored someplace dark and starless. (Aside: I love how susceptible Pete is to grand, cheesy quotes? Like when, a few days after the release of The Last Jedi, he tweeted the heavy-handed noir line ‘I want to put my fist through this whole lousy, beautiful town.’ Like, look for that in a FOB song someday.)

11. w.a.m.s.

For the curious, Andy confirmed on Twitter that the title stands for waitress/actress/model/singer, a reference to the stereotype of people who run away to Hollywood to make it big but end up washing out and struggling as the starving artist/waitstaff type. If this idea of our boys citing bankrupt ambition does not make you emotional, you may not have a heart.

This song is incredibly relevant to the dreams meta linked earlier—‘when all the others were just stirring awake, I’m trying to trick myself to fall asleep again’ is very evocative of being in denial over the jarring reality of the end of the tryst. I think this song is about one of the last times Pete and Patrick slept together before breaking up.

‘My head’s in heaven, my soles are in hell’ again highlights that Pete’s wildest Patrick dreams are very different than where he actually finds himself; ‘let’s meet in the purgatory of my hips and get well’ is a pretty transparent request, isn’t it? Especially since pre-hiatus Pete really loved to use ‘hips’ as a signifier for sexual desire/activity. Let’s just fuck and pretend it’s all okay. Let’s lose ourselves in each other and pretend we can have it. Tell me I’m the only one, even if it’s not true. Let me get high on this memory one last time.

‘Hurry, hurry. You put my head in such a flurry, flurry’ is the urgency and compromised judgment of the tryst. ‘Oh freckle freckle’ can be read as Patrick’s forehead mole. ‘What makes you so special? I’m gonna leave you’ tells us what makes the last time so good: Pete knows it’s the last time. Pete knows he has to end it. But he’s so addicted-sick, ((stray-dog sick,)) he can’t stop. ‘I’m gonna teach you how we’re all alone’ doesn’t really sound like something a newlywed and soon-to-be-dad should be saying, does it? But there it is. How can he let go when he knows ‘how heartwarming it is inside your skin’?

The final nail in my coffin: ‘I’m a sunshine machine. I want to get stuck and be golden in your memory.’

We’ve talked about how Patrick = sunshine = gold, right. r i g h t

12. 20 Dollar Nose Bleed

Fun fact: this song is basically erotica to me ever since I wrote that recording booth smut about it! I can’t even listen to it without blushing and becoming uncomfortable. So there’s something you didn’t need to know about me that you… now know about me.

‘Permanent jet lag, please take me back. I’m stray dog sick, please let me in. The mad key’s tripping, singing vows before we exchange smoke rings.’ It is OBVIOUSLY my prerogative to interpret this as slightly depraved sexual longing, but I especially like the bit about singing vows without ever exchanging anything lasting or visible that implies commitment—this can be heard as a comment on the fickleness of commitment, or it can be heard as a comment about how deeply he is/was committed to Patrick even though they never had anything to show for it. Anything they could show for it. Even to each other.

Benzedrine is, of course, the very first pharmaceutical amphetamine (read about it here!). Many great artists and thinkers were influenced by the impossible energy it gives you, which is obviously relatable to someone who experiences natural mania, peddling his own prescription like a ‘medicine man’ (Wilson lyrics). I think the verse about Benzedrine and not letting the doctor in not-so-obliquely references the issue with medication compliance that Pete experienced and many people diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder also do: the meds for this disorder are really unpleasant. They dull you out, they give you tremors, they have really strong side effects, and they take away that amazing manic spark that so many artists credit with their success. Don’t let the doctor in. They’ll take away the only thing he really likes about being himself.

‘Have you ever wanted to disappear?’ is, I think, a glimpse of the unadorned real.

The spoken word bit at the end of this song really hammers together a lot of the themes of the whole album, the whole band, personal and political both. ‘You said you’re not listening and I said I’m wishing…’, only we don’t ever find out what’s really being said.

13. West Coast Smoker

I love the hell out of this song because there are few things in life that are hotter than Patrick singing the chorus. And fuck. Patrick saying curse words. I die every time. I think this is a kink I share with Pete Wentz. I think one day Pete Wentz and I will share a circle of hell. It will be called the ‘Underage Stump Mouth Rotunda,’ and we will all be very ashamed.

We’ve got a lot of the same themes: the ease of suicide and the conviction to live, the way shows feel and how it was when they were kids, drug use and overmedicated ennui. Pete was once the son, is becoming the father, is resolving not to become the holy ghost.

‘I’m the last of my kind’ and ‘when they made me they broke the mold’ and the finality of it all. (Contrasted with the modern era: ‘you’re the last of a dying breed.’ Pete has grown up and away from his recursive self-obsession, from his own myth. Pete learning to look inside others and stop dismissing himself, and everyone else, as fool’s gold.)

‘Your eyes are blocking my starlight’ to me really speaks to the person who is keeping him from Patrick, or the people—the fans, the Public, with their eyes on his every action.

14. Pavlove

I LOVE THIS SONG

Once again, we have a drug use metaphor: ‘she’s back to the bathroom for one more,’ ‘get addicted to this,’ and of course, the endless seeking for something to make ‘my chest stir/my head blur.’ And: ‘I’m not ready for a handshake with death, I’m just such a happy mess’ shows us, for once, what Pete has to live for—not just that he’s resigned to life, but the reason for it. This song is all tied up with the heady swell of live music and self-medication, and there’s no line more representative of my experience as a bisexual person than ‘I’m the invisible man who can’t stop staring at the mirror.’

‘I want to make you as lonely as me so you can get addicted to this’ seems very directed at Patrick, doesn’t it? Because this is a Pete who needs Patrick too much, thinks Patrick doesn’t need him back, is terrified. Doesn’t know how to solve his problems except to flee them. So: he flees them.

 I MADE IT. I BARELY FUCKING MADE IT BUT I DID.

To sum up: Folie is an incredible, sweeping, beautiful album about the glory of Peterick and the band’s impending end, and it will break your heart. Hit me up with questions and requests, and as always, thank you for reading!

shark-myths out *mic drop*