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nightshift infrared crouch
In 2011, novadrome resolves to...
Learn to play the steampunk.
Put fifty movies a month into my savings account.
Become a better zephyr.
Drink four glasses of fiction every day.
Spend more time with my ink blots.
Backup my deathrock regularly.
Get your own New Year's Resolutions:

Sick Roses Excerpt

nightshift infrared crouch
    It seemed, sometimes, like throwing stones into the ocean and hoping they would float back to shore, but still she searched, knowing each innocent heart she devoured fueled the dark god inside her, gave her the power to grow ever closer to her adversaries.
    “I’ve brought to you an offer in swaddling clothes.”  Lorelei announced to herself and laughed; her hair, her long fingers spitting horrid streams of blue-black energy, writhing around her, a dark wilderness of light.

Sick Roses Excerpt

Push Off!
When Roxy at last came upon the Dark Pool she was surprised to find it not the dead, wet mire of her imaginings but, instead, a half-moon of deep aqua water, pink petals floating on bright green lily pads.  This was no black swamp of decay, this most decadent of lagoons. Where she expected useless barren ground to surround Raelnglarel’s watery prison was instead evidence of rich red dirt, though it was a chore to spot the fertile soil under the lush fireworks of bright blue forget-me-not flowers and yellow columbines.  In that prolonged, gorgeous moment, Roxy realized, she too would have been fooled by the sweet-smelling tableau before her, just as Andrew had been those years ago, when the false angel appeared before him and offered him snake-oil salvation with the voice and form of his lost little girl

Spirit Day

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Originally posted by neo_prodigy at Spirit Day
 


It’s been decided. On October 20th, 2010, we will wear purple in honor of the 6 gay boys who committed suicide in recent weeks/months due to homophobic abuse in their homes at at their schools. Purple represents Spirit on the LGBTQ flag and that’s exactly what we’d like all of you to have with you: spirit. Please know that times will get better and that you will meet people who will love you and respect you for who you are, no matter your sexuality. Please wear purple on October 20th. Tell your friends, family, co-workers, neighbors and schools.

RIP Tyler Clementi, Seth Walsh (top)
RIP Justin Aaberg, Raymond Chase (middle)
RIP Asher Brown and Billy Lucas. (bottom)

REBLOG to spread a message of love, unity and peace.


Gods On The Hill Synopsis

Mal S.
Gods On The Hill Synopsis.

It is discovered (though when and how is not necessarily explained) that dogs, more so than other species of animals, have certain psychic abilities.

Several testing facilities have presumably been established to conduct various controlled experiments involving certain breeds of dog and several human volunteers. 

One such facility, known simply as The Park, observes the thoughts and habits of no less than five Black Labrador Retrievers and twenty human subjects. 

The Park appears to be a pleasant neighborhood housed within an immense sound stage.  There is naturally a parkway in the center, a rough rectangle of greenest grass, small groupings of trees and other flora, and blue pools of water.

There are real streets and houses in The Park and the whole set is surrounded by high fences and the Hospital, a series of building atop man-made hills of rock that house the observers of the experiment.

The human test subjects are randomly showered every few days with artificial “rain” that is water blended with an experimental formula that allows the psychic communications to be more easily received by the black Labs.  The dogs’ cache of human brainwave patterns is in turn picked up by very sensitive equipment atop the Hospital rooftops.  Then a team of scientists attempt to translate the resulting data into plain English text. 

Something has gone wrong. The enriched rain is having unpredictable side effects on the population.  It is not certain if other facilities are having similar trouble, as competition between the research groups and even individuals within the in-house teams has everyone working very close to their chest. There are even some who believe the rain formula has been tampered with.

Instead of turning off the waterworks or abolishing the experiment, the rain continues to fall.  The Park subjects are growing stronger and quicker but are steadily becoming less intellectual, relying on established habits to define them rather than their individual character.

Unknown at first to the Gods On the Hill, the dogs have also been changed by the strange rain.  At least a couple have gained the ability to transmit thought as well as receive.

It’s time to take a walk in the Park. 

Happy To Be Alive. Wish You Were Here.

Anime Eric

I was "joking" at work today that I'm always prepared to die, no matter how randomly, or spectacularly, or painfully, or mercifully, or ridiculously and so I enjoy life more as a result.

The fact that I actually DO try to think and feel this way (I never felt more at peace and free from shackles than when I abandoned the Upstairs Father Replacement in my life with some realization that things just "were" and so I KNOW it has worked for me before) is the very reason I feel like I must not be very interesting when it all comes down.

Because if I were, I would be singing aloud in the streets.  I would actually not mumble and look people in the eye when I speak to them.  I would feel more, think more, DO more. 

But I don't.  Worse, I'm actually pretty okay with that most of the time.  I'm just glad to be here.  But...I really am trying to let others know that I'm happy that THEY are here with me. 

I love you.
Manga Mal
They weren’t the Silver Age.  They were certainly never intended to be the Golden Age either and though they were occasionally fun for a quicksilver jab in the novelty meats, they would never be spandex in our heart. 

They were twisted archetypes with tainted origins, their histories given the business end by gnarled bitter wizards, sequestered away in their beer-stinking towers of plaster and plywood, their innocent wonder long since drained away by deadline vampires and the ghouls of propriety. 

They all wanted a piece of The Invincible Cowboy but more often than not they got Space -Pets or The Environknight.  Leave the would-be wordsmiths with gems like these and its no wonder you end up with unfortunate catchphrases like, “I’m the bastard son of Mother Earth!” or “I’m meeeoo-out and I’m purr round!”  Good god, I think that title got a frakking Eisnerd!

Comic Con

nightshift infrared crouch
It's a big "if" but there's a better than slim possibility that our set at Queen Bee's for next Saturday's to-do will be the debut of "Elephant Head", which is our second song about Captain Nobody.  Here are the lyrics:

ELEPHANT HEAD
Schreeck/Pilawski/Pomerantz

(an account of Captain Nobody from an anonymous sailor):


Captain Nobody he saw the elephant
He tried to snuff it out but candles like that stay lit
Up goes the looking glass
Look out world the future passes
Alibis won’t save us now
Nobody listens
Nobody cares
Happened all too quickly
She had a snowball chance
He cried out when she went across the frightened creature’s path
In order to control his grief and make a plea at sanity
There is no word as accident in his vocabulary

Atlantica is under fire
Captain Nobody has vengeance on his widowed brain
He turned his tide of panic 
Nobody looks away
Up comes his ire and bile
Nobody hides away
Down where the tears surround him
Nobody stakes his claim
Happened all too quickly
She had a snowball chance
He cried out when she fell across the charging monster’s path
In order to avenge his love and for his child never born
His wishing well is deep and red with iron clad and hammerhead

Captain Nobody he fought the Elementals
He tried to snuff us out but candles like us work it out
Down goes the serpentine
Look below the Captain has gone
Memories can’t save him now
Look out world the surface shatters

Captain Nobody he saw the elephant
He tried to snuff it out but candles like that stay lit
Up goes the looking glass
Look out world the future passes
Alibis won’t save us now
Nobody listens
Nobody cares
Happened all too quickly
She had a snowball chance
He cried out when she fell across the charging monster’s path
In order to avenge his love and for his child never born
His wishing well is deep and red with iron clad and hammerhead
Happened all too quickly
She had a snowball chance
He cried out when she fell across the line of their defense
In order to control his grief and make a claw at sanity
There is no word as accident - there is no word as accident
Atlantica is under fire
Her beauty fell now from hell he chips away
Atlantica is under fire
Her beauty fell now from hell he chips away

Watching The Stars

Mal S.
A few of you may know that I keep another "Faster Than Light " Journal for my Frederich Malcom Vaughn "Von" Schreeck alter ego.  For those of you who would like to see the supplemental side-story I've been occasionally going on about, here are the relevant entries from that journal.

Every iceberg is afire.

Recreation Deck 5:

Not that I like to recall those dark days before my escape into this vibration but for those curious, the prison barge I was on resembled nothing so much as a typewriter element  from your 1960s.

The "Klaus" was a semi-sphere of very heavy armor and 700 prison cells for each plate along the surface.

There was a work level the size of a large city capping one end of the ship where prisoners worked rotating 14 hour days in the fuel mines under the ever-watchful eyes of the turtle-like soldiers we called the Hell Guard.

If the artificial sun at the core of the barge unexpectedly went dwarf or nova, each prison tower would jettison outward into the unknown.  What was to happen to the Hell Guard and their city was not something anyone ever told me anything about but I'm sure they had their own, likely superior evacuation plan.

Occasionally (probably more than any of us liked to think about) prisoners were forgotten in their cells.  Depending on their proximity to the core or the surface of the "Klaus" these unfortunate souls were doomed to starve, or burn, or freeze to death in their own tiny, dark box of horrors.

As you can imagine, I'm downright thrilled to be singing Gary Numan songs and watching Electric Six videos in the basement of the Catch-One Entertainment Class Cruiser instead!

Sometimes, though, my thoughts return to those terrible years on the "Klaus" and I find myself throwing back several cocktails too many.

It's getting easier every day, though.

Love is a powerful thing.


Next Entry:Collapse )
Push Off!
Emily was washing dishes and singing a very old song.  When Henry began to hum along in his resonating baritone, Emily turned her eyes towards him and smiled, becoming an old woman, her face covered with wrinkles - her hair a tangled gray crown.  He smiled then, finding her no less beautiful.  He cherished the angel standing before him, with her hands in a bucket of soap and water, singing a very old song. 

The dream ended and Henry woke up.   For the briefest of moments, Henry’s smile stayed fixed upon his face.  Then he remembered where he was, and why, and groaned. 

The empty night was dreadful, the wind was cold, and the stars were very far away.

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