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anothers-trash-my-treasure · 5 years

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Amantium

From @angelfuzzy2:

Can I ask what If like , rami(Freddie Mercury) gets a co-star in the bohemian Rhapsody movie right (it’s au) and the actress sings in the movie , but in real life is a pop star , and rami(and Freddie ) falls for her ( like how David Bowie sang in labyrinth, but he’s a real-life singer)

Just had a weird idea , so it’s on the set of bohemian Rhapsody right and Brian May (the person. Not actor) sees someone on set , someone he knew a long time ago , (like when Freddie was still alive) (and they lost touch after Freddie was gone ) and they just reconnect their Friendship and she’s an actress, like a really famous one also

2303 words

*A/N: I’m sorry this took so long, It was Christmas break so I was abusing my liver every other night and then it’s back to Uni and I was distracted all week but IT’S FINALLY HERE. I combined two asks from the same person but ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy. I tried not to make it too long but I also didn’t want to half-ass this.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Auditioning is the worst. God, I love my job but sometimes I feel like all the stress and anxiety and hot compresses to my pounding forehead just aren’t worth it. Of course, I know that’s not true. Especially in this case. This movie is supposed to be huge, a biopic of Freddie Mercury, and as if this wasn’t enough, my father used to work for Queen back in his roadie days when I was little. I doubt they’d even remember him, or me for that matter, I was just a baby after all. Regardless of that, the audition jitters are very strong today. I fidget in my seat as I wait for the auditioner before me to finish. I keep looking at the actresses faces as they come out of the room...it’s not looking too good for me.

The door opens and I look up, she doesn’t look too confident about whatever happened in that room. She catches my eyes and shakes her head, gathering her things, “can’t win em’ all.” she sighs, “good luck in there.”

I smile weakly. I feel like I could vomit, I’m so nervous. I’m the last audition of the day, casting directors are all usually very tired at the end of the day, it’s never a fun time for anyone when they’re in a mood. I hear the door open once more and looking up. A man beckons me inside.

Well, this is it. I take a breath, stand up and adjust my posture. Confidence is key in this industry. I carry myself, chin up high and a wide smile as I walk into the room. It falters as the people in the room look at me and I realize who’s faces are looking back at me.

Brian May. Roger Taylor. Two of the biggest rock stars in the world looking back at me. My confidence drains. This is going to be harder than I thought. They look down at my resume, before clearing their throats.

“ Y/F/N Y/L/N” Roger reads out loud and I see Brian’s brow furrow as I nod.

“Y/L/N,” Brian says softly, “Why does that sound so familiar? Are you very popular in this industry.” his eyes pierce mine, and although he smiles warmly at me, I can tell he means business right now. A long day of disappointing auditions, he’s tired.

I clear my throat, “Uh, I’ve done a few movies, I also have a few albums out as well.” I pause, unsure if I should continue. Brian goes to speak and I can’t help myself. Afraid that my background is not enough, I word vomit everywhere.

“You might know my father though. His name is Y/FATHERS/N, he told me he used to work for you guys back in the mid 80’s when I was a baby. So I mean technically this isn’t even our first time meeting and I wasn’t going to say anything. I was afraid this made it sound like I’m trying to use my fathers’ connection to you guys to get the job and I’m really not trying to do that. I really hope you guys don’t think that is the case. I am very professional and would never d-”

Someone finally cuts me off, “Dear, calm down, you’re fine.” Brian chuckles warmly, clearly amused at my rambling, “I do remember, your father. In fact, he was a dear friend of ours, we were very sad when he left us.”

“Of course we understood, he had his family to think of and of course he did a wonderful job, considering how lovely and talented you’ve become.” Roger cuts in.

I blush and look down, “Thank you, but please save the compliments until after the audition. I’d like to earn my spot fair and square.”

They nod, faces turning serious once more, “Alright then.” Brian says, “shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m nervous again. I got the job, they gave it to me on the spot. Apparently, I’m just what they envisioned for the part, but I can’t help but feel like my father’s connection had something to do with it. I mean come on, out of all the interviews they did, there has to be another actress they liked equal to me..right?

I shake my head, pushing my own insecurities away. Now is not the time to get in my head about things. I pull into the set parking lot and look at the time. I’m early, like super early. I figure it can’t hurt to be punctual. I find my way through the large building, only getting lost a few times before I find Brian and Roger standing just offset. When Brian sees me his face lights up.

“Y/F/N, Darling!” He gives me a small hug, “How are we feeling today? Ready to get the ball rolling.”

I nod, smiling widely at him. Since the audition, he and Roger had reconnected with my family once more. It was almost like I had known him my whole life. Before I can say anything, a voice calls out to him.

“Hey Brian, I’m so sorry to bother you but I just wanted your opinion on something Freddie would’ve done real quick-” The voice stops when he realizes I’m there.

“Rami Malek,” Brian smiles, clapping him on the shoulder, “This is, “y/f/n y/l/n, she’ll be playing the female entertainer role for the Live Aid scene.”

The actor's eyes flick to me and he nods, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips softly, “enchanté. I actually just bought your album, like a few weeks ago.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Rami.” I can feel the blush rising high on my cheeks and I curse myself for getting so flustered so easily, I’m a professional, dammit.

“Now then, Rami lets go tough this thing out and y/n,” Brian smiles at you warmly, “They’re expecting you in hair and makeup.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I always told myself I was never going to be that girl. I was never going to be that actress who fell for her co-star. Although my part in the movie was shot fairly quickly, Brian kept me around to help out anyone who needed it. But spending more time on set meant spending more time with Rami, which at first was great. He’d always bring me a coffee to set in the mornings, seek me out for lunch and invite me to his trailer when we had any spare time. I found myself wanting to be around him more, more, more. He was addicting. But unfortunately, my growing crush hadn’t seemed to be returned. That was, until now?

“You want me to what?” I asked him, still choking on the coffee stuck in my windpipe.

Rami, the little shit, is holding back his laughter as he shrugs, “I want to practice this scene with you, is that so wrong?” He asks.

I shake my head, “No, but I just- are you sure? You’ve never asked me to do this before. Wouldn’t it make sense to practice this with Lucy? I mean it is her the scene is with.”

His face is twisted with a mix of amusement and hurt, “Well damn y/k, I didn’t think I was so undesirable.” He puts his hands on his hips and sticks one out, an authentic Freddie mannerism that he’s adopted, “Besides, you practice lines with Ben and Gwil all the time.”

I push at his shoulder playfully, “Shut up, you are not undesirable you fucking drama queen.” I shake my head playfully, “You just took me by surprise, c’mon let’s do this.” I snatch the script from his hand as I stand up to face him. He hesitates a second before I grab his wrist and pull him up, “come on.” I insist.

He smiles and shakes his head, “Alright.” He clears his throat and switches into character.

“Well? What do you think?” He asks in Freddie's voice, he even does a little spin for good measure. I struggle to keep my laughter in.

“I think it looks lovely,” I say softly, “Although...” I pause, taking off the scarf that I just so happen to be wearing, how convenient, and wrapping it around his neck and turning him around to face a hypothetical mirror, “much better.”

We pause for second as I play with the scarf and turn him back around to face me before I continue my lines, “I love dressing you, you have such an exotic look that you can actually pull off these styles.”

His eyes never leave me, he doesn’t have to check the script, “I’m a firm believer that a model can only look as good as the person who dresses them, my dear.” He says softly, almost bashfully, as if he’s nervous about something. “My god, Mary, you are absolutely....beautiful.” His hands grip my arms tightly, his eyes burning into my own. Before I can even think about what my next line is, his lips are on mine.

His lips are soft as they move against mine. The kiss is slow, and dare I say, passionate? When he pulls away I find myself leaning forward, following the warmth of his lips. My eyes flutter open and meet his as I let out a breath, “That wasn’t in the script.” I whisper.

He laughs softly, breath fanning out across my lips, “I know but I just...” He pauses, bringing his hand up to cup my face and softly drag his thumb across my cheekbone, “couldn’t help myself.”

I lean in to kiss him softly again, and we stay like that for a while. It could have been a minute or ten but when he finally pulls away, his eyes look determined, “I want to take you out on a date,” he says, “have dinner with me.”

I smile, “How is dinner any different than our usual lunch dates?” I tease, pulling away to see his whole face. He wiggles his eyebrows at me playfully

“You’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner is nothing like lunch.

Lunch is us piling our plates high with too much food and escaping to his trailer before anyone can ask us to sit with them. Dinner is, private, romantic and oh so very aesthetic in his London apartment. One may have thought that going on a date with someone in the Hollywood industry would mean the most expensive lobster at a 5-star restaurant with 10 courses, limos, and champagne. But Rami keeps it very simple. Simple but not at all disappointing. To be fair, he probably could have just taken me to a Subway and I would have been content. But what he had done was amazing.

First of all, he cooked. YEah. Rami Malek, cooked, for me. A wonderful meal with salad and dessert and everything. And it was, phenomenal.

“Oh my god, Rami.” I practically moaned out, “this is amazing.” I stare at him in disbelief. He shrugs,

“My mom taught us all to cook, it was a big family thing. Everyone helped out at dinner.”

I shook my head lightly, shoving another bite in my mouth, “I can’t believe you’ve been making me eat crappy set food all this time.”

Second of all, he decorated. String lights set up so the traced the entire perimeter of the room. Candles set up on nearly every surface. Coffee tables, kitchen table, counters. He had even set the table before I even got there.

Last, but far from least, the way he looked at me all night. God. What did I do to deserve to have Rami Malek look at me like I was the only person who was relevant. Like every word I said contained the secret to saving the world. I have never felt so wanted on a first date.

After we ate and did the dishes (I insisted on helping, much to his disapproval), he brought me to the living room and we cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. Everything felt so, easy. I didn’t feel like a first date, it felt like we had been doing this the whole time.

I’m laying with my head on his chest, his arm draped across my back, his breathing is steady but his heart is beating rapidly. I smile to myself, knowing mine is doing the exact thing. Being around him is exhilarating. And my god, if it didn’t feel so natural. I can feel his eyes on the side of my face as I watch the movie.

“You’re going to miss the best part.” I joke, not taking my eyes off the screen. He chuckles against my shoulder softly, it’s a beautiful sound.

“Sorry,” he says, softly kissing my shoulder. After a few moments of silence before he speaks again, “Can I ask you something?” I nod and he takes a second to think over what he wants to say, “Do you think it’s kind of weird how easy this feels?”

I turn my head to look at him, “I was thinking the same thing.”

It’s quiet for a moment as we both process our thoughts. My eyes scan his face, “I don’t-” I pause, unsure if I want to say this or not, “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

He shakes his head and kisses me, “Me neither.” He kisses me again, “I’ve fallen for you, a lot harder than I had been expecting.” His eyes bore into mine, “Y/n, I know this is kind of crazy but...I think I love you.”

I can’t help the smile that creeps up onto my lips, I take his head in between my hands and kiss him again, god I could really get used to that, “I love you too, Rami.”

#rami malek x reader #rami malek/reader #Rami Malek Trash #rami malek #elliot alderson x reader #elliot alderson #josh washington #busters mal heart #au #fanfic #bohemian rhapsody #borhap

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eddycurrents · 6 years

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For the week of 20 August 2018

Quick Bits:

Aphrodite V #2 is pretty damn great. Jeff Spokes’ artwork is instantly compelling, drawing in the reader with darkness and interesting angles into this increasingly enthralling story of a machine cult from the future by him and Bryan Hill.

| Published by Image / Top Cow

Avengers #6 concludes the first arc in widescreen fashion. Lots of action and big ideas from Jason Aaron with gorgeous art from Ed McGuinness, Paco Medina, Mark Morales, Juan Velasco, and David Curiel. Again I’m reminded of those early issue of JLA from Grant Morrison and Howard Porter. This has been fun so far and I’m intrigued by what else they have in store.

| Published by Marvel

Beasts of Burden: Wise Dogs & Eldritch Men #1 is a very welcome return, even without Jill Thompson for this go around. The artwork from Benjamin Dewey is beautiful as he reminds us that he’s one of the best nature artists in comics, and possible beyond. His animals are just stunning. The story from him and Evan Dorkin is also interesting, suggesting some arcane traps luring in the paranormal. Great stuff for all ages.

| Published by Dark Horse

Big Trouble in Little China: Old Man Jack #12 concludes the series with an epic battle between the forces of heaven and hell as it teaches us the true meaning of friendship. It’s funnier when you actually read it. This has been an entertaining series from John Carpenter, Anthony Burch, Jorge Corona, Gabriel Cassata, and Ed Dukeshire, with this final chapter also delivering a nice farewell to the movie as well.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

Black Hammer: Age of Doom #4 has some very interesting revelations that ultimately only lead to more questions than answers. What’s going on isn’t nearly as cut and dried as we were led to believe last issue and the mystery has just deepened. Jeff Lemire, Dean Ormston, Dave Stewart, and Todd Klein have managed to elevate this story higher again.

| Published by Dark Horse

Black Panther #3 finally parcels out a tidbit of what might actually be going on with the series and the Intergalactic Empire of Wakanda, just in time for a surprise attack and more action. Thankfully, the art from Daniel Acuña is still overwhelmingly gorgeous.

| Published by Marvel

Britannia: Lost Eagles of Rome #2 is even better than the first issue. The mystery deepens as Antonius and Achillia reach Egypt and find incongruities they don’t expect within this province of the Roman Empire. The artwork from Robert Gill (with colours from José Villarrubia) is probably among the best I’ve seen from him, really bringing some very strong work here with backgrounds, vehicles, and character designs that are particularly impressive.

| Published by Valiant

Cold Spots #1 is the start to another horror series from Cullen Bunn, this time accompanied by Mark Torres with the artwork, and as per many of Bunn’s previous tales, this is a great start. There’s a genuinely creepy atmosphere from Torres’ art and the plot of a missing daughter and her child, amidst the spooky maybe-ghosts, is a good one.

| Published by Image

Daredevil #607 gets into how there can possibly be a Mike Murdock running around New York and it’s an interesting and possibly hazardous diversion. Gorgeous art from Phil Noto.

| Published by Marvel

Die!Die!Die! #2 is more entertaining over-the-top humorous action that feels like it’s channelling Garth Ennis. Great art from Chris Burnham and Nathan Fairbairn.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Hunt for Wolverine: Mystery in Madripoor #4 is probably the most succinct in sticking to its plot without real deviation of all of these minis. Basically sticking to the thread of these X-women tackling the Femme Fatales. It’s been a relatively decent story from Jim Zub, Thony Silas, and Felipe Sobreiro, even if the art’s been a little uneven. There’s a really nice sequence of Psylocke finding herself again in this issue, though, from Leonard Kirk and Andrew Crossley that has interesting implications going forward.

| Published by Marvel

Jughead: The Hunger #8 is a great jumping-on point for new readers, offering a bit of a history lesson and summary reinterpretation of the events of the overarching plot of the series to date. Great work from Frank Tieri, Pat & Tim Kennedy, Joe Eisma, Bob Smith, Ryan Jampole, Matt Herms, Andre Szymanowicz, and Jack Morelli.

| Published by Archie Comics / Archie’s Madhouse Presents

The Life of Captain Marvel #2 continues what is shaping up to be possibly one of the defining and quintessential Carol Danvers stories. I love what Margaret Stohl is doing in bringing out the backstory and interpersonal dynamics of Carol’s family. The art from Carlos Pacheco, Rafael Fonteriz, and Marcio Menyz in the present day and Marguerite Sauvage’s flashbacks is wonderful.

| Published by Marvel

Mr. & Mrs. X #2 continues this fun ride, tossing in Deadpool and more of the lesser used intergalactic X-characters. The dialogue from Kelly Thompson is hilarious and the art from Oscar Bazaldua and Frank D’Armata is great.

| Published by Marvel

Old Man Logan #46 begins another arc tying up loose ends before the endgame of Dead Man Logan kicks off. Wrapping reconnecting with Alpha Flight around a horror story evoking shades of The Thing and Slither results in a wonderful story perfectly fitting Damian Couciero’s artwork.

| Published by Marvel

The Punisher #1 is both a continuation of Matthew Rosenberg’s stories and ideas from the last volume of the series and a kind of back-to-basics approach to Frank Castle. Basically, he’s lost the War Machine suit, but he’s still taking on the world-spanning super-villains. It’s pretty epic and this is great jumping-on point. The dark humour is perfect, reminding me of Garth Ennis’ work with Castle, and seriously this is probably the best art that Szymon Kudranski has ever done. Along with Antonio Fabela’s colours, it’s like he was born to draw The Punisher.

| Published by Marvel

Royal City #14 is an introspective end of saying farewell to the past and accepting change to move forward. This has been an interesting series from Jeff Lemire, focusing on his most often used theme of family, and it’s been a good exploration of their different dynamics.

| Published by Image

The Sentry #3 is pretty dark, telling the flipside of the first two issues from Billy Turner’s perspective as he goes about stealing Sentry’s identity. This is almost at Kid Miracleman levels of demented. Jeff Lemire is playing with some interesting ideas here, beautifully brought to life by Kim Jacinto, Joshua Cassara, and Rain Beredo.

| Published by Marvel

Shadowman #6 has some truly beautiful artwork from Renato Guedes, as this arc of Jack falling through time visiting the different holders of the shadow loa takes an interesting turn in ancient history.

| Published by Valiant

Shanghai Red #3 is probably the best issue to date, as Molly reunites with Katie, recriminations are hashed out, and we get a bit of a tour of Portland. Christopher Sebela, Joshua Hixson, and Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou have tapped into something unique here, and this tale of revenge and some of the lesser told side of American history is incredibly compelling.

| Published by Image

TMNT #85 brings Leatherhead back into the fold, with very interesting and potentially dangerous ramifications following the war between the Utroms and Triceratons. Brahm Revel’s clothes-peg take on the Turtles is an interesting visual choice.

| Published by IDW

The Thrilling Adventure Hour #2 I find better than the first issue. The humour hits home a bit more for me and the leads of Sadie and Frank don’t seem nearly as insufferable as the first issue. The art, though, from MJ Erickson and Brittany Peer is just as good as the first. Entertaining stuff.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

Venom #5 is another great issue. The mythology-building in this series is just incredible, growing Venom and his world into so much more. Donny Cates, Ryan Stegman, JP Mayer, Frank Martin, and Clayton Cowles are creating magic.

| Published by Marvel

West Coast Avengers #1 is a great debut, filled with action and humour, as this highly dysfunctional team comes together. It’s nice to see Kelly Thompson doing more Hawkeye and Hawkguy, and the collection of characters coming together to make up the team are bizarre and fitting, carrying on a few of the themes and plot developments of the previous Hawkeye and America series. Though you needn’t have read any of that before you pick this up. Making it nigh unmissable is the gorgeous art from Stefano Caselli and Triona Farrell. This is fun.

| Published by Marvel

Witchblade #7 returns for its second arc, continuing the extremely high level of quality that Caitlin Kittredge, Roberta Ingranata, Bryan Valenza, and Troy Peteri set for themselves.

| Published by Image / Top Cow

X-Men Red #7 advances us a bit further as the X-Men attempt to uncover evidence of Cassandra Nova’s influence on the world and thwart her attack on Atlantis. Tom Taylor has definitely been taking a slow approach to unfurling this story, but it has allowed for the beautiful art from originally Mahmud Asrar and now Carmen Carnero & Rain Beredo time to breathe.

| Published by Marvel

Other Highlights: Amazing Spider-Man #4, Avengers: Wakanda Forever #1, Barbarella #9, Bedtime Games #3, Betty & Veronica: Vixens #9, Curse Words Summer Swimsuit Special #1, Days of Hate #7, DuckTales #11, Gasolina #11, Hack/Slash: Resurrection #10, Hit-Girl #7, Jim Henson’s Labyrinth: Coronation #6, Lumberjanes #53, Mammon, Mickey Spillane’s Mike #3, Night’s Dominion - Season Three #2, Old Man Hawkeye #8, Quantum & Woody! #9, Red Sonja/Tarzan #4, Redneck #14, Stairway - Volume 1, Star Wars: Darth Vader #20, Star Wars: Doctor Aphra #23, Sullivan’s Sluggers, TMNT: Bebop & Rocksteady Hit the Road #4, Wasted Space #4

Recommended Collections: Avengers: Back to Basics, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Cloak & Dagger: Predator & Pray, Deadly Class - Volume 7: Love Like Blood, Giant Days - Volume 8, Jimmy’s Bastards - Volume 2, Li’l Donnie - Volume 1: Executive Privilege, Lockjaw: Who’s a Good Boy, Postal - Volume 7, Sex Criminals - Volume 5: Five-fingered Discount

d. emerson eddy too wonders where all the cowboys have gone. Is it a nefarious plot from some shadowy organization? Or are they all just at the Calgary Stampede?

#This Week in Comics

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paopuofhearts · 7 years

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CLEOPATRA If it be love indeed, tell me how much. MARK ANTONY There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. CLEOPATRA I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. MARK ANTONY Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

For the Halloween Prompt:

Should Percival be Antony or Julius Caesar to Credence’s Cleopatra? Alternately, Credence is Antony.

[Warning: minor scene of Credence/Grindelwald attempted noncon, defined as a creepy pass of pressuring.]

Grad school is kicking my ass so I’ve literally only managed to push all this out. It’s completely unedited and unrevised, so I apologize – but I’m way past the deadline so I feel like I need to get something out to you! I’ll probably go back over this during winter break [hopefully by then I’ll be able to focus on all this writing instead of thesis and platform and portfolio writings instead].

Annual Humanities Division Halloween Haunt!

The garish orange was blinding against the dark black background of the gaudy poster and made his eyes hurt. Furry brown bat cut outs clashed against the construction paper, fluttering off the sides as a silver cauldron of green bubbles frothed and spilled along the bottom edge. It was a horrifying eye sore – with several others posted up and down the corridor, garish pieces slathered together as if an embodiment of the holiday itself threw up all over the walls of the hallway. He had spotted a few others in the other buildings as well, dangling off community boards and hanging precariously next to unsuspecting classroom doors. He had even caught a glimpse of similar atrocities draped in the café he visited on his morning coffee run – how anything managed to make its way through the hidden labyrinths to the sacred depths of the hallowed Arts basement was anyone’s guess. No doubt there were more littering the upper levels of the Literature department as well.

But it did its job, at the very least – it pulled focus, enticing the grad students suffering through the mid semester slog of research to take a break and join the holiday festivities. It was exactly why Modesty had done up his face with a flourish of glittery makeup and shoved him out the door before taking off to her own undergraduate party with friends from her OChem class.

Friends.

Apparently he needed those.

Dress code: Recognizable historic / literary figures!

None of those awful stereotypes! No appropriation allowed!

Be creative, not boring!

The encouragement had been tacked on underneath the poster, pinned to the door of the large house across from the library on campus – a mindful afterthought that hadn’t managed to make its way to the other posters. The vivid exclamation points made his heart shudder in his chest, turning the blood in his veins to ice as his palms began to sweat.

Go as Cleopatra, snag yourself a king, Chastity suggested. She had forced him into an awful thing: a white jumpsuit made to imitate layers of linen – a “modern take” on the Prince Of Egypt adaption the Theater department had developed into an experimental straight play. He hadn’t been able to see it, but the outfits Chastity had worked on were nothing short of amazing. How she snuck one back from the mysterious void of the storage rooms, he would rather not know.

[“I made them. It’s only fair.”]

Modesty had straightened his hair, setting a golden circlet in the shape of a snake upon his brow and settling half a dozen wiry gold bracelets across his arms and wrists. She had even gone the extra mile to paint his eyes – deep, shadowy kohl and bright, vibrant blue. He was pretty sure the design was based on Elizabeth Taylor, not actual hieroglyphics. Someone was bound to tell him off – if not for the improper design, then at the very least for the fact that he was some pale pasty white kid decked out in ridiculously vague allusions to ancient Egyptian attire.

It was a nightmare, and he hadn’t even stepped through the doors yet.

But it was too late. A loud and rambunctious group of students rambled up, hands blindly reaching for the door as they raucously giggled at each other. Shrinking away, he couldn’t avoid being jumbled up into the widespread wall of costumed bodies, tossed out into the fray of the party inside. The music was blaring, a cacophony of stilted techno thumping against the walls as a woman droned in a shouted monotone. It was dark, the only lights coming from glow-in-the-dark stickers flung across the sparse bits of furniture and glow-in-the-dark paint splattered across the walls, dim purple UV lights strung up against the crown molding of the ceiling seams. It was tacky and disorienting. Trying not to stumble into some sanctimonious argument of Dracula vs. Lestat and the merits of the Cullen family, he quickly stepped into the next room.

This room was a bit brighter, though just as awkwardly decorated. Several table lamps were placed strategically in the corners and beside cheap beige chenille couches, covered in gauzy red scarves that threw the room into a bloody shade of red. Speakers were hidden beneath the tables, droning out strange atmospheric noises of wallowing and wails, reedy whistling of a nonexistent wind eerily pressing around the room. The Poe atmosphere was effective, but it had to be a fire hazard of sorts – though none of the occupants seemed to care. There was a heavy scent of smoky incense, curling wisps creeping against the darkened corners. He attempted to hide within such an alcove, tentatively sidestepping toward one such area to get a better view of the room, when a hand shot out to grab his wrist.

“Are you Cleopatra?” He spun around, coming face to face with a sturdy young woman assessing him curiously. Her short hair was done in a thick braid that barely reached her shoulders, and a plastic bow was slung unevenly across her back, the string pressing against her chest.

“Yes?” he answered warily. This was it – he was going to get yelled at, he was going to get kicked out, he was going to get –

“Great! We’ve been looking for a Cleopatra. I’m Tina – History department.” She grabbed his hand without warning, dragging him toward a corner by a tall bookshelf. “You?”

“Credence,” he said faintly, wondering why she of all people would need a Cleopatra. “Literature.”

“Even better! That’s his department too!” Before he could ask for clarification he was being welcomed into a small circle of loitering students huddled together over a book. Of course.

“It’s Minimalism. Its short, its ordinary, its mundane. The man is on an escalator for the entirety of the story,” the shorter man groused, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff.

“Its Maximalist! It’s a long rambling piece of nonsense full of digressive dribble!” a chubbier man exclaimed, waving his hands about enthusiastically. The first rolled his eyes.

“You aren’t even studying modern literature – “

“Post modern literature, Percy!” an energetic redhead crowed, easily slinging an arm over his shoulders. “And anyway, who cares? Where’s the fun in being stuck on an elevator? Now being stuck in Croatia – “

“Teeny!” A blonde woman shoved her way between the two, pretending she hadn’t interrupted such an important discussion as she pulled the strange woman that had kidnapped him to the other side of the circle. “Oh! You found one!”

Credence glanced at them nervously.

“Hello!” another redhead piped up. “That’s a wonderful outfit – a male Cleopatra, brilliant idea!”

“Thank you?”

“Perfect for our Marc Antony!” They pointed to The Minimalist, dressed in a deep brown leather chest plate – supple and buttery, shining smoothly as it hugged his form in all the right places. Gold paint swirled in intricate patterns threading between the golden rivets piercing the pieces together, matching the red wrist guards clasped on his arms and the thick red pteruges strips layered against his thighs, strands of golden fringe flickering as he moved. He wasn’t a history major, so he couldn’t judge the accuracy, but it was an impressive outfit that lovingly emphasizes the wonderfully sculpted ripples of muscle outlining his body.

“Percival Graves,” The Minimalist introduced himself, offering a hand.

“Credence Barebone,” he replied, allowing his hand to be taken into a gentle but firm handshake.

“This is Tina, Newt, and Theseus as our local Katniss, Peeta, and Gale,” the blonde woman continued. “My name is Queenie, and this is Jacob – “

“Hephaestus and Aphrodite,” the cheerful man cut in adoringly, grinning up at her like a lovestruck fool.

“Nice to meet you.”

“So what are you studying?” Newt asked curiously.

“Reformation literature.” Credence shifted, unsure of their reaction.

“Like – religious stuff? All that Milton and Pilgrim’s Progress?” Theseus prompted.

“I – well, technically.” Credence shrugged. “I study Reformation comedies. Like – the Country Wife. It’s a – little more – controversial.”

“Is that code for raunchy and promiscuous?” Theseus teased, waggling his eyebrows and laughing loudly as Jacob snorted. His brother – at least, Credence presumed they were related, given their matching appearance – elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

“Play nice,” Tina reprimanded with a frown, before turning her attention back to him. “My sister and I study modern history. I study counter cultural movements in America during the 1970s and 1980s, and my sister studies the impact of ethnic studies in education.”

“They’re with us!” Newt clarified. “I study the effects of nature on city development, and my brother here is studying the Balkan Wars.”

“I tried to convince Percy to join me, but he stuck with his boring post modern literature,” Theseus lamented.

“Modern literature,” Percival corrected. Theseus waved him off.

“What’s your opinion on it?”

“I – “ Credence flustered, unsure how to answer such a vague question correctly without disappointing any of them.

“Ignore him. He isn’t worth it,” Percival insisted, slipping his hand against Credence’s elbow. “Why don’t we go grab a bite to eat – let him gather his manners?”

Percival threw a reprimanding glare at the man, who cackled in response. Credence could feel the heat of Percival’s hand drifting to press against his lower back, carefully maneuvering him toward what he could only presume was a kitchen. It was comforting, if a bit embarrassing. He felt a shiver trailing down his spine.

The kitchen itself was a travesty that also made him shudder – fluffy white clouds of fake spider webbing cascading across the dining table in billowing curtains, plastic spiders dangling precariously in squished upon droves. Punch bowls and jello molds upon the table held all sorts of mismatched creepy crawlers – worms, octopus’, skeletons. Chain link centipedes were plastered to the cupboards, preschool levels of artwork sloppily thrown together. Cheap junk food haphazardly thrown into grotesque displays were crammed to cover every inch of available counter space. The Art department would have a field day with such an eyesore.

At least it smelled clean – the sharp scent of fake pine and a lingering undertone of bleach creeping through the atmosphere.

“What would you like – pretzels and chips?” Percival asked dryly, raising an eyebrow at the sad excuse for food as he peered over the offerings. He leaned over a gelatin mold, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “You think they would get a little creative with the goods.”

“Picquery set up the good stuff in the upstairs office room,” someone called out behind them. They turned to see a young man in a bright blue sweater and dull orange pants grimacing as he tried to pluck a lego Cthulhu from his scoop of jello. “Abecedarians!”

“Think you should have gone with Captain Haddock if you’re using such language, Abernathy,” Percival tutted, twining his fingers with Credence’s and leading him out of the room. “Of course Sera set up her own area – come on then, she knows what she’s doing, most of the time.”

They weaved in and out of the crowd, clambering up the stairs to the second floor. There were no Halloween decorations, though there was quite a bit of commotion coming from the last room. They quickly made their way in.

Credence was pleasantly surprised to find far more tasteful decorations and treats displayed. Carved pumpkins sat grinning on either end of the lace covered table, smaller painted ones lining the tops of bookshelves. Fairy lights shaped like bats hung in loops along the walls, while a colony of paper ones spread in flight across the ceiling Fake candles were placed between books on shelves and cascaded from corners, illuminating white skulls and gray gargoyles peeking out of the shadows. The corner seams were filled with thin, knotty sticks and black vines, black roses artfully tacked onto them. Even the food was themed – a chocolate cake set like a graveyard with marshmellow skeletons, hot dogs wrapped in crisped biscuits like mummies, chocolate cookies slathered in icing with finely cut strawberries and blueberries set to look like eyes. There were so many twisted and grotesque foods Credence could hardly keep track.

“Percival, how nice of you to show up.” A tall woman slid up next to them, draped in deep red and white folds of a dress, a copper sword strapped to her back. He hair was wrapped in a shimmering metallic scarf to match. She stood proud and regal, scrutinizing Credence with a keen eye.

“Abernathy was singing your praises downstairs,” Percival said with nonchalance, pulling Credence to his side. He slung an arm around his shoulders – made slightly problematic, given the height difference neither had noticed. “Your department has outdone itself yet again.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Graves. Who’s your lovely Cleopatra?”

“Credence Barebone, English department – Reformation period. Who are you supposed to be tonight?”

“Oya, Yoruba goddess of storms. Does Credence Barebone know how to answer for himself?” she shot back, eyeing Percival with disdain. Credence settled himself, ducking his head in a way that gave an appearance of submission, but tilting it in a way that could also imply a challenge. He had plenty of practice in meek deference, but refused to waver under some stranger’s judgment.

“What do you study?” he asked – an innocent enough question, on the surface. She lifted her head, catching his game, a faint smile gracing her face as she turned her attention back to him.

“Remixed classical art. My current thesis is on the impact of Kehinde Wiley and Harmonia Rosales have on the interpretation of traditional pieces in a modern context of racial perspective. Have you heard of them?”

“Ah – no,” Credence admitted, shifting uncomfortably. She flashed her teeth, a wide smile too sharp and dangerous to be friendly. Like lightning – beautiful, but able to shred a man to pieces.

“Shame.” She turned back to Percival. “Do try the werewolf brains – the paper mache was quite an effort.”

Credence kept his head down as he watched her leave, a swirling hurricane of wild force that commanded the room. A trio of girls in the doorway parted for her like the Red Sea, giggling in awe as she strode past. A friend of Percival’s and a force to be reckoned with, and he had just blundered the whole first impression away.

“Never mind her,” his Antony said, nonchalant as he snagged a plate from the edge of the table. “We were going to open up a law firm together, once upon a time. She’s still a bit bitter we didn’t pass our LSAT.”

“We?”

“Theseus too. And Tina.” He picked at the food, taking small scoop of gelatinous brain, red food coloring dripping from the spoon. “Speaking of Theseus and Tina, what should we bring back to them?”

Credence tilted his head, nitpicking at the edge of his own plate.

“The – um – spider crackers?”

“No, come on – pick something you actually want. And please don’t say the caprese eyeballs.”

Credence studied the array on spread before them, a feast of holiday goods for the taking. His gaze settled upon a collection of cookies, dark chocolate brownies cut into circles, a dollop of sprinkle covered crème upon it, a coned chocolate kiss settled gently on top.

“The witch hats.” Percival shot him a crooked grin, wryly amused.

“A good choice.” Credence watched as Percival piled food upon the plate, bits and pieces of everything stacked high. Rather than following suit, he quietly left his plate on the corner. “Ready to head back down?”

“I need to find a bathroom.” They started back out the door, Credence trailing behind. He watched others pass by, laughing and nudging each other as they walked up and down the stairwell.

“Bathroom should be on your left.” He was pointed down a long side hallway, where several people lingered. “Come find us again when you’re done.”

The line was taking forever. He shuffled from foot to foot, beginning to grow impatient as he waited. Perhaps it would have been better to have simply gone back to the corner with his new found friends. Could they be considered friends yet? At the rate it took to get into the bathroom, perhaps they would think he had ditched them. It would have been better if only he had stayed –

A hand fell upon his shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“Well aren’t you a cute little thing.” Credence turned around, shrinking away. Before him stood a tall man with pale hair and paler eyes, decked in a toga and crowned with laurel. A Caesar – what were the odds of that?

“My apologies, where are my manners. Gellert Grindelwald – assistant professor for the modern literature department.” The man took Credence’s hand, bowing as he placed a kiss upon his knuckles. Old fashioned and uncomfortable, to say the least. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure of such a beautiful Cleopatra?”

He squirmed away, twisting out of Gellert’s grip.

“Credence,” he answered reluctantly, not wanting to be impolite. Yet his hand continued to roam, tracing across his shoulder and down his back.

“Credence. A lovely name for a lovely face. What’s a beautiful thing like you doing at a party like this, hm? Who did you come with?”

“No one.” He could feel the bottom of his stomach drop at the honest admission. The hand clawed at his belt, eager and excited.

“Oh? Perhaps you’d like some company then?”

“I’d rather not,” Credence admitted, still trying to move away. Gellert just moved closer, crowding into his space.

“A pity. Does that mean you have company here?”

“Yes, actually.”

“I can promise you I am much more entertaining than anyone else you’d meet here.”

Credence fidgeted, unsure what to do. Gellert continued to croon, attempting to convince him to leave. Several moments later, with panic flooding his veins and pulsing beneath his skin, itching to get away, he caught the eyes of his knight – his gladiator, his Antony. Gellert turned to track his line of sight, displeased at such a distraction. His face contorted with fury and disgust when he realized who was headed their way. With a sneer, he grasped the collar of Credence’s outfit, the strain on the outfit almost enough to tear it apart.

“I could ruin him,” Gellert hissed harshly into his ear. “I could ruin all of you. Now play along like a good little boy.”

The two wandered over, Percival standing tall and menacing and in need of a dramatic flair of a cape, while Theseus brooded behind with a sharp glare.

“Credence. We were wondering where you’d had gotten off to,” Percival started, leveling a cold tone as he stared unblinkingly at Gellert.

“Didn’t realize you got stuck with this asshole,” Theseus started, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He isn’t – that bad,” Credence attempted.

“He’s a fucking asshole who gets off on torture porn,” Percival growled, glaring furiously at Gellert.

“Now Percy darling, just because I didn’t invite you back to my little dungeon last Christmas – “ Gellert drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Fuck off, you prick,” Theseus interrupted loudly, shoving Percival to the side. “Leave the kid alone.”

Credence felt Gellert’s fingers dig into his back, nails scratching through the fabric. The hand clawed at his skin tightly – painfully. Credence stood as still as he possibly could, thinking of the cold marble statues outside the library, tall and unfeeling.

“He’s hardly a child,” Gellert pointed out. “What do you think, Credence – would you rather be off with these foolhardy Neanderthals, or continue our lovely conversation, hm?”

His body was frozen, heavy like lead, unable to move. He stared unblinking at the floor, wishing to be anywhere else. A beat of silence, and Theseus huffed in annoyance, nudging Percival as he turned and left. Percival frowned, but followed after, figuring it to be a lost cause. He glanced back once more, dark eyes piercing through the dim light, but Credence held his head down. Perhaps if he stayed quiet, Gellert would get bored –

“See, what did I tell you?” Gellert trailed his hand down, soft and gentle as it caressed the thin fabric of his outfit. Gellert’s face drifted closer, voice dropping several octaves into a whisper. “Now, where were we? I do believe you were about to tell me of this young Margery – “

His body blocked the hallway, and Credence shrunk back, plastering himself against the wall. Another hand found its way to his waist, a hand settling against it and sweeping downward.

In a fit of panic, Credence lashed out. His mind blanked, nerves firing too fast to keep up. Within seconds, he had shoved Gellert into the wall, pinning him there with a hand wrapped around the man’s neck. He felt wild with the adrenaline rushing through his veins as an overwhelming tempest of fear and rage tore through his bloodstream. His hand twitched and tightened against the pale column of Gellert’s throat.

“Come now, Credence,” Gellert rasped, both hands wrapping around Credence’s wrist. “Control yourself.”

“I don’t think I want to,” Credence growled, pushing harder against him. He could still feel the creeping tremors twisting against his skin, an unsettling film of disgust plastered against his body, seeping beneath his costume and into his bones.

“Mr. Barebone.” His head snapped to the side, locking eyes with none other than Seraphina Picquery herself. Her face was stone still as she took in the scene, mouth a firm line. “Perhaps it’s time you take your leave.”

Anger burned through him, a fierce spark of vengefulness blazing into a firestorm against his ribs. In a burst of blinding fury, he slammed Gellert’s head back into the wall, releasing him as he crumpled to the ground, clawing at his throat as he gasped for breath. Credence shuddered, face twisting as he snarled before shoving past Seraphina, a dark cloud bolting for the door. She watched him go, then turned her attention back to Gellert. The man smirked, chuckling under his breath.

“He’s a miracle, isn’t he?”

“Get out before I call the cops on you,” she sneered, rounding her shoulders back as she turned to the main room. “Everyone out! This party is over.”

Credence made his way to the library, the cold air biting through the whirlwind of his emotions and leaving him feeling like a naked, helpless child. Horror slithered across his skin, twined in the breeze that slid through the thin white linen hanging off of him. He stumbled into the bushes, heaving as he dropped to his knees. He blindly fumbled for his phone, dragging his body up against the brick wall of the library. His shoulder pressed against the rough stone, part of his outfit snagging against it.

Hey Cree. Chastity picked me up and took me to some haunted house they’re doing. We’re staying with Eve and the crew tonight. Hope you had fun!

He leaned heavily against the wall, swallowing hard. If he went home, he would be alone – the very last thing he wanted to be. But it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. He didn’t have friends, didn’t have pets, didn’t have anyone waiting for him to keep the vivid memory of hands creeping up his thigh and words whispered in his ear as the world closed in on him in the darkness –

“Credence?”

His head snapped up, eyes widening as he spotted none other than Percival, stopped on the walkway before him. He craned his head and saw the others making their way across the square on the other side of the street, laughing obnoxiously as Tina and Queenie burst into song. It looked as though they had taken their leave as well – the party dying down as the clock struck midnight, as it were. Which meant that Gellert –

Another wave of nausea had him doubling over, though his body seemed to be done with even attempting to dry heave. A bout of dizziness struck him, his hands gone clammy, body shaking apart. The next thing he knew was a distorted shuffling as a pair of sandals made their way into his view.

“Credence, are you alright?” A hand made its way toward his shoulder, and he flinched.

“Alright, it’s okay,” Percival assured, taking a step back. “Take your time. Here, try to match your breathing with my counting, alright?”

His mind was whirling far too fast, skipping over the numbers being listed as he tried to think of what to do. One, Percival was here, trying to calm him down, three, but why, he had left Percival, five, had gone off with Gellert, surely Percival hated him, eight, thought less of him, ten, wanted nothing to do with him, eleven, but maybe he could redeem himself, twelve, that’s why Percival was here for him, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…

Slowly, Credence managed to come back to himself. Percival watched with a careful eye as the young man brought himself back from hyperventilating, steadily regaining his awareness. After a few more moments, once Percival had calmly made his way to thirty, Credence straightened himself, though he still refused to look up.

“Thanks,” he whispered, voice rough from – whatever had happened.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” Percival prompted, not bothering to skirt around the issue. He was worried, of course, and wanted to know – so he wasn’t going to ignore it. Better to be blunt. But if Credence didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t push.

“It was – “ Credence glanced up from behind his fringe of hair, wary like a caged animal.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Percival assured with a shrug. There was a beat of silence as Credence assessed the situation.

“Gellert tried to – do things.” Percival frowned, gritting his teeth as he surveyed the area in hopes to find the man walking by. What he wouldn’t do to punch that smug bastards face in –

“It’s my fault. I – I should have listened to you.”

Percival placed his hand upon his back, a solid weight and comforting warmth that guided him back to the walkway.

“Do you live with anyone?” he asked. He bit his lip, shaking his head. “I’m going to give you some options, alright? Would you like me to walk you home and stay with you, or would you like to come to my place?”

“My sisters – if they – I don’t know how they would react to someone being there,” he managed to say. Percival nodded understandingly.

“Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

“But I – “

“It’s not a problem, that’s why I’m offering,” he cut in calmly. He thought of his options, before finally caving in with a nod. “Let me call a cab then.”

The ride was a blur of lamplights flashing against his eyelids and the soothing hum of the taxi sailing down empty streets. Percival kept his distance, but let his hand rest between them, palm opened upward if Credence so chose to take it. So far, he was more content to huddle against the cool plastic of the door, leaning his head against the window pane.

Percival’s face was washed with a pale white light, brightened like a spotlight as he gazed down at his phone with furrowed brow. His fingers struck the screen in quick succession, pounding out rhetoric toward Seraphina, skipping words like stones on a lake of ice in an attempt to crack through her tight-lipped wall of excuses to figure out what truly happened. His face twisted in fury, and he finally flung the phone to the floor, unable to contain his ire.

The noise made Credence jump, head turning to see what had happened.

“It’s nothing.” Percival crossed his arms, straightening his back as he leaned against the seat. He looked almost regal – Credence could almost picture it, shifting the world away and painting in the crushed velvet and glittering gold of a palanquin, enshrining Percival in a mystic abyss of light curtains, sun shining through to offer but the glimpse of his strong silhouette peering through.

“You’re a very good Marc Antony,” he said, tilting his head to the side. The picture changed, warping in on itself, swirling into an arena. A sword as firm as his stance, solid and steady, face set in determination. Shoulders down and back, ready for whatever the world would throw at him. A soldier, a gladiator, a knight as it were – brave and steadfast in heart and mind.

[“You are a child unworthy of the grace of the Lord.”]

“Credence?” Percival’s hand came into view, gently brushing against his own in the space between them. “You’re shaking.”

“I – “ There was a moment, standing on the brink of something overwhelming, the edge of a cliff into the unknown. Terror pressed against his heart, squeezing tightly and shrinking his ribs, wrapping around his lungs so he could hardly breathe.

They slid as the cab turned a corner sharply. The moment collapsed, tension exiting is a rush.

It was over. Credence turned back to the window, watching the streetlights pass them by.

“It’s nothing.”

The corners of Percival’s mouth dragged downward, but he made no move to speak into the silence. Instead, he simply pressed his fingers into the spaces between Credence’s, filling the gaps and holding tightly. Credence bit his lip, but let himself be held. It was – nice. Too nice, perhaps. But – nice. Percival’s hands were nothing special – just as warm as his own, just as soft in the hidden places, just as rough in the calloused pads and knuckles. They were smaller, but wider – complimentary to his own, in a way.

They stayed like that, in comforting quiet, to the point where Credence began to lull off, nodding against the window as his eyes fluttered shut. But eventually, their journey came to an end. Just as he was about to dive into sleep, the car pulled to a stop.

“We’re here,” Percival muttered, clutching his hand before letting go to get out. Reluctantly, Credence did the same, managing to maneuver himself out of the car to sidle over to Percival’s side. Percival took his arm gently, carefully guiding him up the driveway and into the house. It was a nice home, to be sure – the typical American dream of a white picket fence and a small white porch.

Credence didn’t pay much attention, instead letting his mind drift.

“Are you hungry?” He shrugged, uncaring. “Alright. Well, here – sit down. I’ll grab you a blanket.”

Percival disappeared into the depths of the other rooms, leaving Credence standing awkwardly in front of a pristine leather couch. It looked far too expensive to even glance at, never mind touch and rest upon. Hesitantly, Credence ran a finger along the sewn seam of the side. It was smooth as silk, dipping beneath his fingertip – gaudy and ostentatious as a black leather couch was, it was also quite beautiful.

“It won’t bite, you know.” Percival stepped toward him, sandals shuffling against the wood floors. He carried a large pillow in his arms, a thick blanket tucked beneath it. “You can sit, it’s fine.”

Credence obediently did as told, sliding onto the seat as Percival took his place beside him.

“Do you want to talk, or just sleep?” As much as Credence wished to stay up, filling the space between them with poetry, waxing lyric on language and literature, delving into the depths of their respective fields – he was exhausted after the events he suffered through, and could feel sleep pulling at his eyes, tugging at his mind, dragging him away.

“Sleep, I think.”

“Lay down then.”

Percival gazed at Credence’s face, watching as the moonlight pouring through the curtains graced his pale face. The young man was quite beautiful, bathed in silver, curled up under soft black blankets.

He would put Cleopatra herself to shame.

Someday…

Okay first off apologies; I took this prompt while I was teaching abroad this summer, and when I got back I started grad school and realized I’d need more than one job to pay for it, so I have been absolutely swamped with work. I didn’t finish everything I wanted with this – but I wanted to post something out here, just to get it out here, so that the prompt was filled before Thanksgiving season. I’m so sorry I’m late with it.

Anyway! Gosh this prompt hit on all my academic enjoyments so I probably went way overboard on that instead of, you know, focusing on the Anthony / Cleopatra / Caesar bit in a more direct way. Like, overall I kind of followed the general plotline of how Plutarch wrote that mess of a threesome, with a hefty dose of Shakespeare’s classic tragedy take thrown in – Cleopatra gets all hung up on Anthony, tries to appease Caesar so Caesar stops going after Anthony, Anthony thinks she doesn’t love him, Cleopatra realizes mistakes were made. And then I tried to make the ending a bit happier, where they come back together and Caesar kind of just disappears. Probably too much influence and reference to cram into what I tried to keep as a light and abstract outline, so it probably ended up seeming more like it was just “woo Halloween costumes and some sad pathetic plot”, so. Apologies.

I also got really into the whole academia setting and spent way too much time dreaming up headcanons for that [wherein Seraphina, Percival, Tina, and Theseus were all Law focused undergrads who ended up failing their LSATs, so they went into grad school research with things they enjoyed most from their undergrad work, hoping to find work through that. Queenie and Newt kind of just followed their siblings along, though they’re the ones who got into grad school because they’re actually paid for their research, and then they met Jacob, who’s been doing research studies for far too many years, and foreign exchange student Gellert, who’s just all sorts of red flag levels of creepy. Credence took up grad school in hopes of getting funding to publish a textbook on Reformation literature so he can support his two sisters in their undergrad schooling, though Modesty will likely be the big breadwinner out of all of them since she’s the one going into Med school, but that’s also pretty expensive, so].

Anyway. It was my first attempt at any sort of holiday prompt type thing [the only other time I filled out a prompt was as an Anon on some Kink Meme way back in the LJ days; either way, I’m not much in on this practice]. Hopefully it wasn’t too terrible and did something for you. Woo.

#gradencetrickortreat #gradence trick of treat #potterland

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fey-and-sudden-and-unholy · 7 years

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Identity ask: 3, 8 & 20

Replies to this thing, for @seams-unusualpdx:

3. list your fandoms and one character from each that you identify with.Hmm, this will take some thought. There are a lot of characters I completely love, but not many that I look at and go “Hey, that’s me!” So, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do one each, for identifying, but I’ll list my favorites otherwise.

a.) Pandora Hearts - It’s the only manga I’ve read from start to finish, and if you’re into Alice in Wonderland, Victoriana, well-thought-out, psychologically complex characters and truly evil plot twists, I highly recommend it. I have a few favorites, but the one I identify most closely with is Lacie Baskerville. She’s been through a lot, and while it has hardened her, she still has love in her heart and tries to keep a good perspective, and while she’s damaged she’s kind of remarkably well-adjusted, considering everything. She’s got a villain’s background but doesn’t act as a villain (mostly… except when those guys hurt her friend, at which point she kills them and dances in their blood, but… I probably would’ve, too, in her place, so there we are still.)

b.) Labyrinth - One of the major movies of my childhood. Little-me identified quite a bit with Sarah. She had a family life she wasn’t happy with and was preoccupied with the fairness of things. I still get preoccupied with the fairness of things, though I’m better about catching myself at it. X-D My favorite character was Jareth, though.

c.) Welcome to Night Vale - Night Vale makes me so happy. /)_(\ I adore the casual weirdness of it. There’s really no one I identify with, but I love so many of them! Cecil and Kevin and Tamika, and STEVE CARLSBERG and The Faceless Old Woman who Secretly Lives Inside your Home.

d.) The Last Unicorn - Another major childhood thing. I identify a little bit with Molly Grue, in that, again her life’s been harder than she wanted it to be, and she’s still got kindness in her. I admire her practicality. I try for that. Don’t always succeed.

e.) Phantom of the Opera. Another one I’ve loved since I was a kid and I stumbled across this animated version of it. The acting was pretty terrible, but the story was actually more faithful to the book than literally anything else that’s ever been on the screen. I think you can find it somewhere on YouTube, these days. Little-me, having been picked on a lot at school, identified with Erik pretty hard. (As a result, yes, I was of the opinion that Christine should’ve chosen him for many many years. I ship her more with her career, these days. X-D)

f.)The Lecter Series: the books, the movies, the show, in that order. (Don’t get me wrong, the show was fantastic. I loved it, but it was an AU, and my heart belongs first and foremost to the original stories.) I wouldn’t say I identify with anyone, but I’m fascinated by Lecter as a character, in the books/movies, and I was fascinated by Will Graham in the show. For some reason show!Lecter didn’t compel me the same way the previous versions of him did.

g.) American Horror Story - My very favorite characters are Myrtle Snow and Liz Taylor. I aspire to be as unabashedly myself as they are themselves. Honorable mentions go to James Patick March, Misty Day, Marie Laveau, Edward Mordrake, Nan and Fiona Good.

h.) American Gods. Laura Moon and Mad Sweeney give me life. I have no feelings one way or another about them, ship-wise, and I don’t especially identify with them. I just wanna watch them snark at each other forever. :->

i.) Gotham. The Penguin was never my favorite villain, until this show, but I really love him, in this.

j.) Harry Potter. I love a lot of these people, but I suppose the one I come closest to identifying with is Luna Lovegood… a bit of Snape ( with the unhappy family life and being picked on in school, though I’m pretty sure I ultimately handled it better), and a bit of Credence Barebone, for similar reasons. (The grandmother who had the biggest hand in raising me was very fond of trying to use religion as a means of manipulating and frightening me into submission. If the darkness it put in me were capable of jumping out and killing people, she would’ve been the first to go.)

I think I’d better stop there, otherwise I’ll be nattering all night.

8.what musical artists have you most felt connected to over your lifetime?Well, the Beatles would have to be the first thing I talk about, here. For the first 10 years of my life my father and I listened to them on the way to and from school, pretty much every day. There was some David Bowie, Queen, Jethro Tull, and Led Zeppelin, too, some days (And I feel connected to them too, especially Bowie), but mostly it was the Beatles. Bowie is also huge, partially because of Labyrinth and partially because, you know, he’s God. Loreena McKennitt is another one. I adore her voice; it literally stopped me in my tracks the first time I heard it. Chopin made me love the piano, even if I never had the patience or talent to learn to play it well. Maynard James Keenan’s voice gives me chills regularly. Getting to hear him sing live, on Tool’s Lateralus tour, was a religious experience.

20. Would you rather be in Middle Earth, Narnia, Hogwarts, or somewhere else?Hmmmm, probably Hogwarts, with Middle Earth as a runner up. Narnia’s okay, but I’m not so much into it as the other two. There are plenty of other fictional worlds I’d rather be in.

#me

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zolganif · 4 years

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@HEYBRITTANYsurveys made this survey and they are all things truly about me. go ahead and bold/ital/strike/make arrows with comments because i like that xoxo

If I am tearing up and someone tells me “it’s okay, go ahead and cry,” I end up sobbing. I spend more time at the walk-in clinic than with my actual family doctor. Some current scientific innovations really blow my mind. If you start a sentence online/in text with “um” I assume you are using a condescending tone. I am rarely ever out past 10 p.m. I remember Bunnicula books. I have crossed over a stream or gap by walking across a fallen tree. I prefer chocolate, vanilla, and caramel flavors to fruity flavors. If I never heard about Donald Trump again, it would be a dream. I’ve never taken a hiatus or break from Xanga.<-----I miss that website! :( Some traits that are necessary in someone I’m attracted to are intelligence, awareness, and caring about what’s going on in the world. I have clothes in sizes XS, S, M, L, and XL in my closet that all fit me. Some of the clothes that I wear are from the children’s section. A movie that I have no interest in seeing is Wreck It Ralph. When I am in a room full of people, I often forget I’m supposed to participate rather than just take everything in as a silent observer. Sometimes it’s like I forget that everyone can see me just as well as I can see them. I see myself focusing on school and myself rather than getting married/starting a family at a young age. It is difficult for me to empathize with beautiful celebrities’ complaints. I think Harry Styles and Taylor Swift make an absolutely terrible couple. It has been at least two years since I have had a romantic relationship with someone. Something I have been anticipating for years finally happened this year. One of my favorite young celebrities is Ezra Miller. I don’t like to play shooting/FPS video games. One movie that I have seen many times and will watch many more times is Labyrinth. I would never date someone that is in the military, or is considering signing up. I think that it would be a cool job to be an ambassador representing my country. There is an obscure movie that I love, and I am always surprised when I find out other people love it, too. I have never been to a murder mystery party, but I would like to. There is someone I know that always seems to be out doing the coolest things. When I am not feeling well, I only like to watch happy and lighthearted shows and movies. One show that I have been watching a lot of recently is Adventure Time. Sometimes I take a survey, but then I decide it’s too boring to publish. My sinuses bother me often. My goals for my future have changed significantly within the past two years. I have listened to One Direction’s new album, “Take Me Home.” I have become obsessed with a celebrity or band seemingly overnight. I would rather see Stephen Spielberg’s “Lincoln” than “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.” I am passing at least one of my classes with a 4.0, this semester. One of my pets is definitely my favorite. I watch at least one show every week with a specific person. I tend to plan my outfits around themes, and dress in different styles day-to-day. I think that it would be cool to go ghost hunting. My desktop background is a picture of a person. It is not common for me to be attracted to macho and stereotypically masculine men. When I post on Facebook it’s usually just me trying to be witty and clever. Sometimes I still want to play pretend with toys. When guys talk to me, I always assume it’s just because I’m non-threatening/an easy target. When I am bored and at home with nothing to do, I just start thinking about all the things I dislike about myself. There is nothing interesting to me about making crafts. I know who Clover, Sam, and Alex are. If I learn that someone had a great high school experience, I become a bit wary about them. Sometimes I get really sassy when taking a survey. I really want to meet someone I like and by like I mean like-like. My hair is currently darker than my natural color. I have nightmares where I am still dating an ex, or that they won’t leave me alone. I honestly believe that I have some sort of psychic abilities, even if just a teeny bit. I think Gangnam Style is super annoying and not funny. I bought a ticket for the $500 million Power Ball lottery. If there is nothing in the house that I want to eat, I will starve rather than eat something I don’t want. I wish more people would make more surveys more often Sometimes when I hear about other people’s experiences I am envious, even if I know I wouldn’t actually enjoy myself in those situations. When I see someone with a talent (e.g., posting videos of themselves singing) I am proud of them, but it sort of just makes me wish I had a talent, rather than want to compliment them. I prefer Nintendo to other gaming brands like Sony or Microsoft. I feel guilty after eating unhealthy snacks. If you want to win my heart, compliment me on my intelligence. I think it’s pretty entertaining to listen to a police scanner. I think it would be fun to be a freelance photographer and go chasing news stories to take pictures of and sell them to papers. I love anything that’s reminiscent of a treasure hunt. I am more likely to buy things for other people than I am to actually spend money on things for myself. I love and admire Amy Poehler. I refer to my car as “my baby.” When I was a kid, I thought farmers just had a lot of farm animals as pets. I have had all sorts of orthodontia through the years. Sometimes I feel good but as soon as I come home to the quiet, I feel bad again.<-----When I’m feeling very down/depressed I find that I feel like that. :/ When people align their surveys to the right, I can’t see them in my subscriptions page. It is my goal, even if petty/rude/conceited, to be able to be the smartest person in the room at any given time. Sometimes I think the idea of an online relationship seems pretty nice and cute. Watching the show Catfish makes me sort of curious to see if I could get away with making a fake online persona. I have received a nice surprise in the past week. I have bought/am buying Christmas presents for friends that I only know online. It takes a lot of trust for me to be able to let someone else drive. Any conversation within the first hour of me waking up instantly irritates me. I hate taking a gamble on anything, I’d rather be safe than sorry!

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fluffydragon85 · 6 years

Text

@HEYBRITTANYsurveys made this survey and they are all things truly about me. go ahead and bold/ital/strike/make arrows with comments because i like that xoxo

If I am tearing up and someone tells me “it’s okay, go ahead and cry,” I end up sobbing. I spend more time at the walk-in clinic than with my actual family doctor. Some current scientific innovations really blow my mind. If you start a sentence online/in text with “um” I assume you are using a condescending tone. I am rarely ever out past 10 p.m. I remember Bunnicula books. I have crossed over a stream or gap by walking across a fallen tree. I prefer chocolate, vanilla, and caramel flavors to fruity flavors. If I never heard about Donald Trump again, it would be a dream. I’ve never taken a hiatus or break from Xanga. Some traits that are necessary in someone I’m attracted to are intelligence, awareness, and caring about what’s going on in the world. I have clothes in sizes XS, S, M, L, and XL in my closet that all fit me. Some of the clothes that I wear are from the children’s section. A movie that I have no interest in seeing is Wreck It Ralph. When I am in a room full of people, I often forget I’m supposed to participate rather than just take everything in as a silent observer. Sometimes it’s like I forget that everyone can see me just as well as I can see them. I see myself focusing on school and myself rather than getting married/starting a family at a young age. It is difficult for me to empathize with beautiful celebrities’ complaints. I think Harry Styles and Taylor Swift make an absolutely terrible couple. It has been at least two years since I have had a romantic relationship with someone. Something I have been anticipating for years finally happened this year. One of my favorite young celebrities is Ezra Miller. I don’t like to play shooting/FPS video games. One movie that I have seen many times and will watch many more times is Labyrinth. I would never date someone that is in the military, or is considering signing up. I think that it would be a cool job to be an ambassador representing my country. There is an obscure movie that I love, and I am always surprised when I find out other people love it, too. I have never been to a murder mystery party, but I would like to. There is someone I know that always seems to be out doing the coolest things. When I am not feeling well, I only like to watch happy and lighthearted shows and movies. One show that I have been watching a lot of recently is Adventure Time. Sometimes I take a survey, but then I decide it’s too boring to publish. My sinuses bother me often. My goals for my future have changed significantly within the past two years. I have listened to One Direction’s new album, “Take Me Home.” I have become obsessed with a celebrity or band seemingly overnight. I would rather see Stephen Spielberg’s “Lincoln” than “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.” I am passing at least one of my classes with a 4.0, this semester. One of my pets is definitely my favorite. I watch at least one show every week with a specific person. I tend to plan my outfits around themes, and dress in different styles day-to-day. I think that it would be cool to go ghost hunting. My desktop background is a picture of a person. It is not common for me to be attracted to macho and stereotypically masculine men. When I post on Facebook it’s usually just me trying to be witty and clever. Sometimes I still want to play pretend with toys. When guys talk to me, I always assume it’s just because I’m non-threatening/an easy target. When I am bored and at home with nothing to do, I just start thinking about all the things I dislike about myself. There is nothing interesting to me about making crafts. I know who Clover, Sam, and Alex are. If I learn that someone had a great high school experience, I become a bit wary about them. Sometimes I get really sassy when taking a survey. I really want to meet someone I like and by like I mean like-like. My hair is currently darker than my natural color. I have nightmares where I am still dating an ex, or that they won’t leave me alone. I honestly believe that I have some sort of psychic abilities, even if just a teeny bit. I think Gangnam Style is super annoying and not funny. I bought a ticket for the $500 million Power Ball lottery. If there is nothing in the house that I want to eat, I will starve rather than eat something I don’t want. I wish more people would make more surveys more often (*nudge*). Sometimes when I hear about other people’s experiences I am envious, even if I know I wouldn’t actually enjoy myself in those situations. When I see someone with a talent (e.g., posting videos of themselves singing) I am proud of them, but it sort of just makes me wish I had a talent, rather than want to compliment them. I prefer Nintendo to other gaming brands like Sony or Microsoft. I feel guilty after eating unhealthy snacks. If you want to win my heart, compliment me on my intelligence. I think it’s pretty entertaining to listen to a police scanner. I think it would be fun to be a freelance photographer and go chasing news stories to take pictures of and sell them to papers. I love anything that’s reminiscent of a treasure hunt. I am more likely to buy things for other people than I am to actually spend money on things for myself. I love and admire Amy Poehler. I refer to my car as “my baby.” When I was a kid, I thought farmers just had a lot of farm animals as pets. I have had all sorts of orthodontia through the years. Sometimes I feel good but as soon as I come home to the quiet, I feel bad again. When people align their surveys to the right, I can’t see them in my subscriptions page. It is my goal, even if petty/rude/conceited, to be able to be the smartest person in the room at any given time. Sometimes I think the idea of an online relationship seems pretty nice and cute. Watching the show Catfish makes me sort of curious to see if I could get away with making a fake online persona. I have received a nice surprise in the past week. I have bought/am buying Christmas presents for friends that I only know online. It takes a lot of trust for me to be able to let someone else drive. Any conversation within the first hour of me waking up instantly irritates me. I hate taking a gamble on anything, I’d rather be safe than sorry!

0 notes

stormyrecords-blog · 7 years

Text

new arrivals 7-28-17

we have a restock on all your favorite soaps!!! saponify herbal infused soaps are back in the scents of 4 THIEVES, BAY RUM, PATCHOULI, ORANGE PATCHOULI, NAG CHAMPA, BERGAMOT GRAPEFRUIT, and more!! new shape, same weight - easier to hold in your hands!! holy cows do they smell great!! . items in stock friday - july 28th 2017 PORTER RICKSAnguilla Electrica2LP on TRESOR $27.99Double LP version. First full-length in seventeen years from the Chain Reaction/Force Inc. legends. Ever since their initial singles were released in the mid-1990s and became international calling cards for the Chain Reaction label, the Porter Ricks duo of Thomas Köner and Andy Mellwig have represented that crucible point in which techno music leaked into new social environments and became the background music for cutting-edge cultural critique. Their submerged "scuba" sound, presented in dark tone colors and reverberating to infinity, is now instantly identifiable as one of the "soundmarks" of Berlin club culture. Just as importantly, it is still a palpable aftershock of a pre-millenial genre explosion that saw deep dub, shimmering post-rock, abstract hip-hop, and art-damaged noise all drinking from the same well of inspiration. For proof of Porter Ricks's enduring legacy, look no further than the fact that "dub techno" is now a stylistic movement that has expanded far beyond the confines of Berlin and the Basic Channel/Chain Reaction label alliance (where Mellwig's mastering skills also played a starring role). Lurid traces of Porter Ricks's aesthetic can now be found in the work of producers like Andy Stott and Miles Whittaker, showing the potential for the duo's unique "aquatic" techniques to be applied to a variety of different musical contexts. Their new LP on Tresor, Anguilla Electrica, may be their first full-length release in seventeen full years, but it radiates with confidence and with a clarity and intensity rarely seen in a world so over-saturated with communications noise. It's made clear at once that it's a continuation of a sonic ideal rather than a tribute to what has already been achieved: the duo is not idly sitting back while their newer acolytes do their talking for them. This new LP is well worth the wait and is a life-affirming one in an uncertain and perilous time, drowning out daily anxieties like a rush of incoming surf -- yet it is far more invigorating than relaxing. True to the Porter Ricks's tradition, it will be just as exciting hearing this music as it will be to experience what new cultural mutations it leaves in its wake. TELAIO MAGNETICOLive 75 LP $27.99Black Sweat Records present an expanded reissue of Telaio Magnetico's Live 75, including unreleased tracks from the super group's only tour in 1975. Telaio Magnetico was composed of Franco Battiato, Lino Capra Vaccina, Juri Camisasca, Mino Di Martino, Roberto Mazza, and Terra Di Benedetto. In the mid '70s, the Italian underground scene seemed to mature an existential priority of yearning toward a new psychological universe, with a firm idea to colonize an uncharted space of a necessary and infinite path of spiritual redemption. In this context, the short experience of Telaio Magnetico was born from the confluence of the Battiato's experimental efforts, in works such as Sulle Corde Di Aries (1973), Clic (1974), and M.elle Le "Gladiator" (1975), and the Albergo Intergalattico Spaziale's new esoteric electronics. A mosaic of metamorphic sounds and frequencies of unfamiliar constellations, the music of Telaio is an imaginary trimurti of "energy-cosmos-mind". Synths and Lowrey organs draw sidereal labyrinths and landscapes, scanned to infinity by a harmonic percussions arsenal. Whispering and radical improved vocals are lost as delusional fugues in centrifugal vortices and, at the same time, seem to offer a compendium of religious chants which evoke Tibetan choruses, Indian pujas or the Gregorian tradition. Reemerging sometimes as Sufi cadences and relaxations, or pastoral-tribal elements on which the chamber carpet of oboe blows like Arabs, Egyptians, or Moroccans pifferos. That traced is not only a galactic river, but also a Mediterranean circumnavigation: a unique creative moment that, in addition to the references with the German kosmische music and British space-rock, seems to be perfumed by the influence of Gurdjieffian mystic and even had roots in the minimalist drones of Terry Riley and La Monte Young, also drawing parallels to the contemporary research of authors such as Alvin Curran and the following explorations of Futuro Antico. Pharoah Sanders: Izipho Zam LP $26.99Everland Jazz present a reissue of Pharoah Sanders's Izipho Zam (My Gifts), originally released in 1973. "Popular and increasingly in demand, Izipho Zam (My Gifts) falls into the 'rare' category among record collectors and is a gift to fans of master Pharoah Sanders. This demand is partially galvanized by the fact that 'Prince Of Peace' has become an inspirational mine to hip hop artists and is much loved by samplers. Izipho Zam is Pharoah Sander's third album, initially recorded in January 1969, it was originally released on the Strata-East label in 1973. On Izipho Zam, Sanders and his band take you on a journey into another world providing an amazing experience! Passionate, intense and free, Sanders saxophone especially, is exquisite, pouring out its soul telling a story of its own. Hailed by peers as the best tenor saxophonist in the world, Pharoah Sanders is a legend in jazz music. He is regarded as one of the pioneers of free jazz and is the mentor of jazz giant, saxophonist Robert Stewart. Born in 1940 into a musical family as Farell Sanders in Arkansas, he first played the clarinet before switching to tenor saxophone in high school. After high school, he moved to California to study music and art. In 1961, Sanders moved to New York where he often played gigs with a number of free jazz dignitaries including Billy Higgins, Sun Ra and Don Cherry. His name 'Pharoah' was given to him by Sun Ra, who was his bandleader then. It was during one of these gigs that he met John Coltrane who became his mentor. While playing with Coltrane, Sanders inevitably rose to prominence due to his very distinctive tenor saxophone sound." --Rachel Kinoti Licensed by Strata-East Recordings. CENTURIONS, THEBullwinkle Part II: Surfers' Pajama Party Recorded Live On The U.C.L.A. CampusLP $26.99Go! Bop! present a reissue of The Centurions's Surfers' Pajama Party Recorded Live On The U.C.L.A. Campus, originally released in 1963. Few acts have a cult reputation such as The Centurians, or The Centurions as they were originally called. In 1967, they changed their name to The Centurians for legal reasons. The main point of interest though is this set of killer tunes. Original pressings fetch prices of $200, and due to their appearance in Pulp Fiction (1994), this band has gained a cult following of younger people who have kept their legacy alive, even bringing them to reunite for a second career. The Centurians are definitely a Californian band. But they seem to come from the darker, windier, and dirtier part of the beach, where only overly tattooed bikers get their willing victims laid and the rough sea craves for the lives of daring surf maniacs. The music is surf rock'n'roll, but it's different to most of the fluffy good time party bands. The bass guitar plays a mean line with all the tunes to give 'em a bent-out-of-shape spine, at which the beats of the drum, the desperately howling saxophone, and the gloomy twangy guitar, get tightened with rusty wire. The performance presented here is excellent. The musicians belong to the best of their genre. The atmosphere is just utterly mysterious, dark, and dusty, and the steaming hot melodies and the fuzzed-out bass and saxophone lines will have you grasping for air. The most popular tracks here are the ones that appeared on Pulp Fiction, "Bullwinkle Pt. II" and "Comanche", which is a famous tune from back in the day (the Pulp Fiction OST features a ravaging version by The Revels). The whole record has this desperate expression, a hunger for life, and a love young fellows from the darker side of town had back then, and still have. A long overdue proper reissue of a long-lost classic. Includes six bonus tracks. VASprigs Of Time: 78s From The EMI Archive 2LP $26.992017 repress. Originally released in 2008. This is the third in Honest Jon's series of albums exploring the earliest 78s held in the EMI Hayes Archive. Honest Jon's spent two years delving through more than 150,000 78 records in the temperature-controlled steel vaults of EMI's Archive in Hayes, Middlesex. An eccentric survey of the Hayes shelves, Sprigs Of Time is a thirty track compilation featuring material recorded between 1903 and 1957, everywhere from England (Percy Grainger's recording of the title song, sung by Joseph Taylor in 1908) to Japan (the bewilderingly beautiful "Seigaiha", by the Japanese Imperial Palace Band, five years earlier). Organ rolls from Georgia run alongside Tamils impersonating motorized transport, and rumba from Beirut; '40s fado sits next to the songs of Bengali beggars. As with the other Hayes releases, all tracks have been restored at Abbey Road and are beautifully presented here with extensive contemporary photographs. There are recognizable names (Joseph Taylor, the incomparable Fairuz, Mighty Sparrow and an uncredited Rubén González, singing lead vocals on "Rumba Negra") and extraordinary oddities (Vengopal Chari's rather unfunny "Laughing" and the peculiarly affecting hand bells of "Gas All Clear"). Taken out of the library and put back on the turntable, every track here is remarkable; every one worth the saving. Also features: G.U. Hsu, Gamelan Gong, Rizeli Kemenceci Sadik, Ochieng Wa Odinga, Sacasas, Jean Mpia, Jonuzi Me Shoket, Fernando Vilches & Ramon Montoya, Cliff Edwards, Benodini Dassi, Imperial Palace Band, Mr. Ero, Fatma Ben Meddah, Noubar Bey & Party, Ben Simmons, Cantonese Opera, Sam Mayo, Fernando Farinha, Gopal Chunder Singh Roy, Fatma El Chameya Sudaneya, Surat Band (Mr. Razak's), Si Said Ben Ahmed, Malijo & Party, Sexteto Habanero, and A.R.P.. Comes in a deluxe gatefold sleeve with two booklets of photos and notes. DMX KREWStrange Directions 2LP $29.99Since releasing his last album on Hypercolour in February 2016, You Exist (HYPE 005LP), DMX Krew has not for one moment rested on laurels, releasing two further LPs on the Ekster and Abstract Form labels, as well as EPs and singles for Central Processing Unit, Shipwrec, Revoke, and more. Continuing to remain faithful to the roots of electro, IDM, and the deeper shades of techno, and without compromise, DMX Krew cranks out emotive and brain scrambling electronica at a mighty rate, and never disappoints. Strange Directions is album number 21 from DMX Krew, and lands once more on Hypercolour, the British label that continues to make heady waves in the music scene with genre shifting releases from the likes of Matthew Herbert, Luke Vibert, Gary Gritness, The Cyclist, Outboxx, and A Sagittariun since the release of You Exist. You'll know what kind of ride you are in for from the first few bars of album opener "Snowy Blue"; hypnotizing bass and spatial keys float over dusty micro breaks, produced with an infectious aesthetic that continues over the long player's fifty-five minute tenure. Experimental and expansive joints such as "Odd Chill" and "Strange Directions" sit comfortably alongside funkier techno jams such as "Thin Hype" and "Zero Sum", whilst the melancholic synth sensibilities of tracks like "Hip Hopeless" and "Axial Mode Beat" catches DMX Krew in fine form. Another fine set of highly polished and visionary electronic goodies from one of the scene's most dedicated and consistent players. Comes in a full picture, reverse board jacket; Includes download code. BEACH BULLIES, THEWe Rule The Universe LP $22.99LP version. "From 1975 -1979, things were going well for James A. Smith, musically speaking. He was writing prolifically, getting encouragement from his contemporaries -- namely, his friend Robyn Hitchcock of The Soft Boys -- and his band, The Containers, had recorded some promising demos and were playing regular live gigs. But, by January of 1980, The Containers disbanded suddenly, and James was on his own. 'Sod it!' he thought, and, rather than waste time lamenting the situation, he plotted a new course as a solo artist. Armed only with his guitar, a drum machine and his flatmate's girlfriend, Jill Fricker, to sing backup vocals, James forged ahead with his new project: The Beach Bullies. The Beach Bullies somehow manage to sound simultaneously classic and exceptionally ahead of their time. Fans of kindred spirits from the same era, such as The Television Personalities, Young Marble Giants, and yes, The Soft Boys, will find much to admire in The Beach Bullies. On the other hand, their alternating vocals, stripped-down aesthetic and minimal arrangements will also appeal to fans of artists who would emerge much later, such as The Vaselines, The Pastels, Shop Assistants and Small Factory. In their brief time together, The Beach Bullies recorded one full-length LP, We Rule The Universe, on Musclebound Records in 1980, along with a series of demos, and some rough mixes intended for a follow-up release that never came to fruition. These comprehensive additional recordings are all available as digital downloads with purchase of this LP. Original copies of the LP sell for more than $40 on the second-hand market, and the bonus tracks have never been released previously. The LP insert also includes previously unreleased photos of James and Jill from the time of the recordings, along with witty liner notes from James himself, giving the full scoop on how this unique record came to be in the first place. Available again for the first time since 1981 on vinyl." THOMAS, PATThe Elephant Clock of Al Jazari LP $26.99Recorded live at OTO in May 2015, The Elephant Clock Of Al Jazari comprises four typically genre-defying and sonically dexterous pieces from one of the UK's best pianists. Pat Thomas began playing piano at the age of eight. He studied classical music and reggae was an early interest. Thomas was inspired to take up jazz after seeing legendary pianist Oscar Peterson on television. By 1979, Thomas was performing seriously as an improviser. In 1980, he became a member of Oxford-based group Ghosts with Pete McPhail and Matt Lewis. He has worked with Mike Cooper, Jimmy Carl Black, Thurston Moore, Mats Gustafsson, Evan Parker, Alan Silva, John Zorn, and more. Pat Thomas received the Paul Hamlyn Foundation Award for Composers in 2014. Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi. Edition of 500. In Thomas's own words: "The title for this album, was inspired by the incredible automatic water clock invented by Badi' al-Zaman ibn al-Razzaz al-Jazari. Al Jazari refers to the fact he was born in Al Jazira which lies between the Tigris and the Euphrates in what is now Northern Iraq. Badi al Zaman means prodigy of the age. He is known by historians of technology as the father of modern robotics. The Elephant Clock at seven meters high is a testament to his engineering genius, it utilizes Greek water raising technology, combined with an Indian elephant, Egyptian phoenix, Arabian figures, Persian carpet and Chinese Dragons celebrating the diversity of cultures in the world. This and other marvels of engineering can be found in his Book of the Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices translated by Donald Hill (Pakistan Hijra Council). Over 50 devices are mentioned. Amongst them the first analog computer, his remarkable Castle Clock, however, the debt the world owes this Muslim genius is found in his remarkable water raising devices, particularly water raising device number '4' where for the first time a crank connecting rod system is used. The crank is considered to be the most important single mechanical device after the wheel, by 1206 this is found fully developed in Jazari`s machines predating Francesco di Giorgio Martini by three centuries. 'For Al Haytham' is dedicated to the great polymath genius who wrote the great book on vision, the first person to give us a true understanding of how we see. 'Lubb' is an Arabic word meaning innermost consciousness whilst to conclude proceedings 'Done' is loosely based on a well-known standard." ARAGORNNight Is Burning LP $29.99There are few bands who can claim to have built their reputation on one single, but such is the situation for Aragorn, formed in Chesire in 1978. They were one of the first acts to sign to Neat Records as the new wave of British heavy metal erupted. But fate conspired to ensure that they only ever released one single, the killer Black Ice/Noonday (1981), which has definitely become something of a cult 45 among aficionados of the genre. Here it is, along with 12 tracks taken from a then unreleased album from 1982-83. A must for anyone into obscure, '70s styled hard-rock, and early metal. RIYL: New wave of British heavy metal, Angel Witch, Motörhead, Witchfynde, Black Sabbath. Remastered sound; Insert with liner notes and photos. LOMBARD, CLAUDEChante LP $29.99LP version. Sommor Records present the first reissue of Claude Lombard's Chante, originally released in 1969. Presented in the original French edition gatefold artwork. Produced by Roland Kluger (Chakachas, Free Pop Electronic Concept), arranged by Willy Albymoor and recorded at the legendary Madeleine Studios in Brussels. Insert with liner notes by pop connoisseur Don Sicalíptico. RIYL: Stereolab, Broadcast, White Noise, Delia Derbyshire, Astrud Gilberto, Roger Webb Sound. "If you know the 1968 Eurovision song, or the TV kids cartoons tunes which Claude Lombard sang, it will be hard to believe what's happening there... Beautiful pop songs sung in French by this Belgian maverick (who worked with Luciano Berio) swirling upon wonderful '60s abstract-expressionism orchestrations: chimes and ondes Martenots among lovely dream basslines and organ drifting, with a dreamy use of echoes, reverbs and sometimes electronics. There are incredibly beautiful songs here, and probably one of the unique examples of French songs with really gorgeous, untypical sound work, closer to some UK and US proto-psychedelic orchestration in pop world. It was by the time a complete commercial flop... A shame of course considering the quality of compositions offered here by Claude Lombard herself, who have no shame to feel if one compares the elegance of her work to an inspired and electronic version of Michel Legrand... Any serious fan of Broadcast or Stereolab will fall in love forever with this true secret gem, to say the least... And no need to mention the kaleidoscopic design of the cover, mesmerizing and perfectly illustrating the content. Masterpiece here? Hell yes! And you can forget about the cartoon tunes of your lazy childhood..." --Emmanuel Holterbach STONE, CARLElectronic Music From The Seventies And Eighties 3LP $45.99"This 3LP set contains a selection of seven early works by American composer Carl Stone, all previously unpublished except for 'Shing Kee,' which appeared on the 1992 New Albion CD release, Mom's. Notorious, formerly elusive recordings like 'Sukothai,' 'Shibucho,' and 'Dong Il Jang' exemplify how Stone masterfully guided his art through the transition period when New Music exited the loft scene of the 1970s for a stab at commercial presence in the 1980s, satisfying both impulses by fusing his compositional ambition with systems of live performance that were simultaneously pop savvy, commercial suicide, and technologically and aesthetically forward thinking. His live performance practice, documented here in a carefully restored archival recording of 'Kuk Il Kwan' at The Kitchen in 1981, has merged seamlessly with today's computer-driven methods. The earliest works of this collection, 'LIM' and 'Chao Praya,' realized on the Buchla 200, date to the early 1970s while Stone was a student of James Tenney and Morton Subotnick at CalArts, a rare glimpse of Stone working with purely electronic source material. Liner notes by Carl Stone, Jonathan Gold, Richard Gehr, and Marc Weidenbaum accompany on a gatefold sleeve. Download card is included with a digital-only bonus track, 'Unthaitled' from 1978. Mastered and cut by Rashad Becker. 'Of the serious composers to come out of 1980s California, Carl Stone is the one who has always performed in nightclubs as well as concert halls, for spiky-haired punks as well as the Ph.D-and-ponytail set -- his brand of electro-acoustic bricolage was probably better known among jazz musicians than it was to the blue-haired Monday Evening Concerts crowd.' --Jonathan Gold, from the liner notes." TUNES AT NOONevery thursday at 12 noon in dearborn city hall park at the corner of michigan ave and schaeferone hour of free music - bring your lunch and enjoy some fun in the sun!! 8/3 Libby DeCamp"Libby DeCamp makes dusty folk and American Roots-inspired music with a lyrical edge and a classic three-piece energy, delivered with a haunting vocal closeness that reaches listeners of all kinds. Sweetly soulful "Broken Folk." 8/10 Michael Malis TrioMichael Malis is a pianist and composer based in Detroit, MI. Malis bridges the gap between original composed, complex material and the spontaneity of improvisation. His trio (piano, bass, drums), featured on his latest album, has toured in the United States and Canada, and in September 2016, they performed at the Detroit International Jazz Festival. 8/17 Viands "Viands is a spontaneous collaboration between two auteurs of Detroit's underground music scene: Joel Peterson and David Shettler. The music they create is a deep, reflective and fearless alternate-reality keyboard meditation that draws on the pair's broad musical vision to explore new vistas.

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