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#blind mellons
garbagegirlblog · 11 months
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☆my favorite songs right now☆
Constellations- Duster
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Haunt me ×3- Teen Suicide
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How to Dissappear- Lana Del Rey ♡
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When you sleep- My Bloody Valentine
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I'd rather be with you- Boosty Collins ;)
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Rhiannon- Fleetwood Mac ✨️
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MORE BOOTSY!! Telephone Bill ;) - Bootsy Collins
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Sex and Candy - Marcy Playground
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Safe in your skin- Title Fight
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Your woman- White Town
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No rain- Blind Melon
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quiet, the winter harbor - Mazzy Star ☆
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Love song- the cure
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Paint it black- Rolling Stones
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Rose blood- Mazzy Star
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You Oughta Know- Alanis Morrisette
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This music video is so fucking cool
Last one no joke... Colt 45 & 2 zig zags- Afroman 😂
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The Sacklers woulda gotten away with it if it wasn't for those darned meddling feds
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The saga of the Sacklers, a multigenerational billionaire crime family of mass-murdering dope-peddlers, is an enraging parable about how the wealthy, the courts, and sadistic high-powered lawyers collude to destroy the lives of millions, profit handsomely, and evade justice.
But there's an unexpected twist to this tale. After the Sacklers procured a sham bankruptcy that denied their victims the right to sue while leaving their fortune largely intact, the Supreme Court – yes, this Supreme Court – saw through the scam and froze the process, pending a full hearing:
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/08/10/us/supreme-court-purdue-pharma-opioid-settlement.html
The Sacklers basically invented modern, legal dope peddling. Arthur Sackler, the family's original crime-boss, revived the practice of direct-to-consumer drug marketing, dormant since the death of the medicine show, to peddle Valium. An aggressive and shrewd lobbyist, Arthur built the family fortune and, more importantly, its connections:
https://www.timesofisrael.com/how-the-sackler-family-built-a-pharma-dynasty-and-fueled-an-american-calamity/
A generation later, the family's business company created Oxycontin, and procured misleading and false research about the drug's safety kickstarting the opioid epidemic, whose American body-count is closing in on a million dead. Armed with inflated claims about opioid safety, the Sacklers' pharma reps bribed, cajoled and tricked doctors into writing millions of prescriptions for oxy.
This scam had a natural best-before date. As ODs flooded America's ERs and bodies piled up in America's morgues, it became increasingly clear that something was rotten. The Sacklers pursued a multipronged campaign to keep the truth from coming to light, and to keep the billions flowing.
On the one hand, they hired McKinsey to find novel ways to encourage doctors to keep writing prescriptions and to convince pharmacists to turn a blind eye to abuse. McKinsey had all kinds of great ideas here, including paying pharma distributors cash bonuses for every overdose death in their territory:
https://www.nytimes.com/2021/02/03/business/mckinsey-opioids-settlement.html
When the issue of these deaths came up in public, the Sacklers blamed "criminal addicts" for their own misery, stigmatizing both people who desperately needed pain relief and the people who'd been deliberately hooked on the Sacklers' products. The legacy of this smear campaign is still with us, both in the contempt for people struggling with addiction and in the cruel barriers placed between people in unbearable agony and medical relief.
But mostly, the Sacklers kept their names out of it. They laundered their reputations by donating a homeopathic fraction of their vast drug fortune to art galleries and museums in a bid to make their names synonymous with good deeds.
The Sacklers didn't invent this trick. Think of the way that history's great monsters – Carnegie, Mellon, Rockefeller, Ford – are remembered today for the foundations and charities that bear their names, not for the untold misery they inflicted on their workers, their crimes against their customers, and the corruption of governments.
But the Sacklers made those Gilded Age barons seem like amateurs. They invented a modern elite philanthropy playbook that Anand Giridharadas documents in his must-read Winners Take All, about the charity-industrial complex that washes away an ocean of blood with a trickle of money:
https://memex.craphound.com/2018/11/10/winners-take-all-modern-philanthropy-means-that-giving-some-away-is-more-important-than-how-you-got-it/
As part of this PR exercise, the individual Sacklers kept their names and images out of the public eye. For years, there were virtually no news-service photos of individual Sacklers. When journalists dared to criticize the family, they used vicious attack-lawyers to intimidate them into retractions and silence (I was threatened by the Sacklers' lawyers).
They also worked their media mogul pals, like Mike Bloomberg, who added their names to the "Friends of Mike" list that Bloomberg reporters were required to consult before writing negative coverage:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/29/friends-of-mike-enemies-of-the-people/#sacklerbergs
But Stein's Law says that "anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop." As lawsuits mounted, the Sacklers found themselves increasingly synonymous with death, not charitable works. But like any canny criminal, the Sacklers had a getaway plan.
First, they extracted vast sums from Purdue and shifted it into offshore financial secrecy havens:
https://www.reuters.com/article/us-purduepharma-bankruptcy/sacklers-reaped-up-to-13-billion-from-oxycontin-maker-u-s-states-say-idUSKBN1WJ19V
Even as this money was disappearing into legal black holes, the Sacklers demanded – and received – extraordinary protection from the courts, who aggressively sealed testimony and materials presented through discovery:
https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-courts-secrecy-judges/
When this gambit finally failed, the Sacklers insisted that were down to their last $4 billion, and, with trillions in claims pending against them, they declared bankruptcy.
When a normal person declares bankruptcy, they are required to divest themselves of nearly everything of value they possess, and then still find themselves hounded by cruel arm-breakers who deluge them with threatening calls and letters:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation
But for the richest people in America, bankruptcy is merely a way to cleanse one's balance sheet of liabilities for any atrocity you may have committed on the way, without giving up your fortune.
The Sacklers are a case-study in how a corrupt bankruptcy can be conducted.
Purdue Pharma presents a maddening case-study in the corrupt benefits of bankruptcy. When it was announced in March, many were outraged to learn that the Sacklers were going to walk away with billions, while their victims got stiffed.
First, they converted their victims' right to compensation into "property" that the Sacklers themselves owned. This transferred jurisdiction over these claims from the regular court system to the bankruptcy court. A bankruptcy judge – not a jury – would decide how much each of these claims was worth, and then what how much of that worth these victims (now recast as creditors) would be entitled to through the bankruptcy.
Thus tens of thousands of claims were nonconsensually settled without a trial, by an administrative judge with no criminal jurisdiction, not a federal judge who'd undergone Senate confirmation:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/31/vaccine-for-the-global-south/#claims-extinguished
These "coercive restructuring techniques" are not available to everyday people who are drowning in student debt or credit-card bills – these are the exclusive purview of the wealthiest Americans, who enjoy a completely different bankruptcy system that is rigged in their favor.
Three judges – David Jones and Marvin Isgur of Houston and Bob Drain of New York – hear 96% of the country's large corporate bankruptcies:
https://www.creditslips.org/creditslips/2021/05/judge-shopping-in-bankruptcy.html
These judges are unbelievably horny for corporations, embracing a legal theory "that casts the invention of the limited liability corporation alongside that of the steam engine as a paradigmatic development in the pursuit of prosperity":
https://prospect.org/justice/how-do-you-solve-a-problem-like-the-sacklers-purdue-pharma-bankruptcy/
Now there are more than three bankruptcy judges in America, so how do the nation's biggest companies get their cases heard by these three enthusiastic Renfields for corporate vampirism?
They cheat.
For example: when GM was facing bankruptcy, it argued that it was a New York company on the basis that it owned a single Chevy dealership in Harlem, and got in front of Judge Drain.
The Sacklers were – characteristically – even more brazen. They really wanted to get their case in front of Judge Drain, the nation's most enthusiastic supporter of "third party releases," through which bankrupt billionaires can wipe the slate clean, securing dismissals of all claims by the people they wronged.
Drain is also uniquely hostile to independent examiners, "an independent third-party appointed by the court to investigate 'fraud, dishonesty, incompetence, misconduct, mismanagement, or irregularity…by current or former management of the debtor."
https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3851339
If you're the Sacklers, hoping to keep two thirds of your billions and extinguish all claims by your victims, there is no better helpmeet than Judge Robert Drain of the Southern District of New York.
So, 192 days before filing for bankruptcy, the Sacklers opened an office in White Plains, New York (a company may claim jurisdiction in a specific court once they've operated a business there for 180 days).
Then they filed a bankruptcy in which they altered the metadata on their casefile, inserting the code for a Westchester county hearing into the machine-readable, human-invisible parts of the documents they uploaded to the federal Case Management/Electronic Case Files (CM/ECF) system (they also captioned the case with "RDD, for "Robert D Drain").
They chose their judge, and the judge obliged. UCLA Law's Lynn LoPucki is one of the leading scholars of these bankruptcy "megacases," and has written extensively on why these three judges are so deferential to corporate criminals seeking to flense themselves of culpability. She sees judges like Drain motivated by "personal aggrandizement and celebrity and ability to indirectly channel to the local bankruptcy bar. The judge is the star and the ringmaster of a megacase – very appealing to certain personalities."
Thus, these judges are "willing and eager to cater to debtors to attract business…[an] assurance to debtors that…these judges will not transfer out cases with improper venue or rule against the debtor…"
https://www.fulcrum.org/concern/monographs/02870w66d
This kind of judge-shopping goes beyond the Sacklers; the cases that Drain and co preside over make a mockery of the idea of America as a land of equal justice. "Prepack" and "drive-through" bankruptcies are reliable get-out-of-jail-free cards for capitalism's worst monsters: private equity firms.
Whether PE murdered your grandmother by buying her care-home and putting each worker in charge of 30 seniors:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/portopiccolo-nursing-homes-maryland/2020/12/21/a1ffb2a6-292b-11eb-9b14-ad872157ebc9_story.html
or poisoned your kids by filling your neighborhood with carcinogens:
https://www.webmd.com/special-reports/ethylene-oxide/20190719/residents-unaware-of-cancer-causing-toxin-in-air
limited liability wipes the slate clean.
30% of America's bankruptcies are private equity companies using the bankruptcy system to wipe away claims for their misdeeds, while keeping a fortune, thanks to the shield of limited liability.
Take Millennium Health, JamesS lattery's fake drug-testing company, which promised to help nursing homes figure out whether seniors were abusing (or selling) their meds by testing their piss for angel dust and other drugs. Slattery defrauded Medicare and Medicaid for millions, borrowed $1.8 billion (Slattery got $1.3 billion of that). He eventually walked away from this fraud after paying a mere $256m to settle all claims, and kept a fortune in assets, including the 40 vintage planes his private company ("Pissed Away LLC" – I am not making this up) owned:
https://prospect.org/justice/how-do-you-solve-a-problem-like-the-sacklers-purdue-pharma-bankruptcy/
For the wealthy, bankruptcy is the sport of kings, a way to skip out on consequences. For the poor, bankruptcy is an anchor – or a noose. This is by design: judges who preside over elite bankruptcies speak of their protagonists as heroic "risk takers" and tiptoe around any consequences, lest these titans be chained to a mortal's fate, costing us all the benefits of their entrepreneurial genius.
PE companies helped the Sacklers design their own bankruptcy strategy, and it was a standout, even by the standards of Bob Drain and his kangaroo bankruptcy court. But now, the Supreme Court has pumped the brakes on the whole enterprise.
The judges ruled that the exceptions the Sacklers took advantage of were intended for bankrupts in "financial distress" – not billionaires with vast fortunes hidden overseas. In so doing, the court threatens all manner of corrupt arrangements, from "the Boy Scouts, wildfires and allegations of sexual abuse in the church diocese — where third parties get a benefit from a bankruptcy they themselves aren’t going through.”
The case was brought by the DoJ's US Trustee Program, which lost in the Second Circuit when it tried to halt the Purdue bankruptcy and argued that the Sacklers themselves had to declare bankruptcy to discharge the claims against them.
Now the Supremes have hit pause on the bankruptcy the Second Circuit approved, and will hear the case themselves. It's only one step on a long road, but it's an unprecedented one. Some of the country's filthiest fortunes are riding on the outcome.
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Going to Defcon this weekend? I’m giving a keynote, “An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet’s Enshittification and Throw it Into Reverse,” tomorrow (Aug 12) at 12:30pm, followed by a book signing at the No Starch Press booth at 2:30pm!
https://info.defcon.org/event/?id=50826
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I’m kickstarting the audiobook for “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation,” a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It’s a DRM-free book, which means Audible won’t carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:
http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed
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Image: Edwardx (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Serpentine_Sackler_Gallery,_June_2016_05.jpg
CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en
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weird-addiction · 2 years
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Behind the screen
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{ Pairing: Legolas x Male Maia!Reader
(Platonic)
{ Warning: Gore | Mentions of War and Death |
{ Summary:
As a Maia/Maiar of the elves you have watched over the people of the Woodland realm before Thranduil or his father took the throne. Watching over Legolas as if your own child.
Your shrine was of Legend to the wood elves of Mirkwood, when they declined the invite from the Valar to go to Valinor once more, they discovered your shrine in the deep forest.
Your shrine was a small wooden structure, along with a paper blinds that swayed at the bottom in front to keep your face hidden. As of any time if they your help they will only see your shadow.
You have resided in this part of Greenwood for a long time, by the time that Oropher and his son Thranduil arrived in to this realm they have already heard about you.
Building the ‘Elvenking’s Halls’ not far from you. You watched everything that happened, but somethings can happen so unexpectedly.
When the War of Last Alliance came around, they came to you praying for luck and for everything to go smoothly. But you were only listening with no action, as it was impossible for you to assure that they will succeed.
When you heard about Sauron, you were heartbroken. As you guys were best friends when you were both still in Valinor, hearing for him to be defeated during this war left you broken.
“Mairon….what happened to you?”
By the time Thranduil came back to his Realm, he has been pronounced King. The newly risen Elven King looked towards your Shrine where he could barely see your shadow behind your screen, he narrowed his eyes and walked away.
He stopped coming to pray or give offerings to you, that weakened you.
But something else happened when he found his wife.
——
“Please, Guardians of the Elves. I ask for your forgiveness for my stubbornness and rudeness towards you. But please I ask of this one favor of you. Ensure that my wife has a smooth pregnancy with my child.” He said as was on his knees praying to you.
“King Thranduil….”
The king’s head perked up at the mention of his name.
“I can hear it in your voice….hear it in your heart……that for a fact that is not only thing that wish of me…is it?” You replied, questioning him.
Thranduil stayed silent as he was either to scared or stunned to answer as the Maia was actually asking him.
“I have years to wait for this answer, but I am afraid that your wife does not. ……So how about you spit it out before I change my mind…”
“Only if it’s not to much to ask…please look after my son and make sure he grows into a strong elf…I cannot lose him.” Thranduil said as if almost crying.
‘It’s because of his father isn’t it? Sigh, whatever.’
“Fine. I’ll do it.” You replied laying back down on your shrine floor.
“Oh Thank you!”
“But I do have one condition, it does not mean that I become a second father to him alright?”
“Yes yes. I promised.”
“Then we have a deal Mellon Nín.”
——
He did not keep his promise.
As Legolas was only a few months old, his mother passed away due to a dragon. Thranduil locked away his emotions as he just begin to drink away his grief.
Legolas did not receive the love a father would give, instead he looked to you. The first time he met you, he was stunned.
The smoothness of your voice that could lull him to sleep, your gentle touches. Your head pats were the best, the way you praise him for small things that he achieved.
You wanted to be angry with Thranduil , but couldn’t because Legolas made up for it. As an elfling he was so cute , running around to find anything for him to do.
But he could just entertain himself with almost anything. You were just babysitting.
There was one time he freaked when he saw your other form even though it was just your arm.
“Y/n? What is…that? Is that your arm? Why is it scary?” The young elf asked, backing away.
Your arm that was hanging out the bottom of paper blinds, there was a black corruption that mutated your arm.
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Half of your arm has been mutated, as your fingers have been turned into a sharp claw.
‘Shit! Why now?!’
“It’s nothing Legolas. Don’t worry about. Why don’t you show me your archery skills?” You asked, trying to distract him from your arm that was now back and out of his view.
“Ok!” He ran off to get his bow and arrows.
“Mairon please stop…”
You could only plead as started he working once more in the shadows, tempting to get to you.
——
About 2000 years have passed and the little Elfling that you have watched over is now a fully grown elf, strong and brave. He still comes to you ever so often to the seek the attention that Thranduil failed to give him.
You were just chilling in your little shrine until you heard other voices rather than just the elves, this was rather weird. This forest was sick, no dared to come in.
Along with the information that the Elves of Mirkwood were less wise and more violent than their kin, this made everyone stay away from the forest.
You peeked put just a little bit from behind your screen to see what was going on, and to your surprise. Dwarves. And 13 of them.
“This is interesting. Better see what’s in store for them.”
Pulling out a cloak from thin air and draping it over your body, pulling up the hood to hide your face.
Sneaking into the castle, and hiding in throne room as it’s the best place to see the drama. You looked up to Thranduil sitting on his throne, feet propped up on one of the arms.
“So much for Thranduil the Elven King. Is this how you treat travelers to your lands?! Hungry and lost in a forest?!” One of the dwarves spoke.
The Elven slowly tilted his head at this. “Only the ones that annoy me.”
He then ordered for the rest of the dwarves to be thrown into the dungeons, while one remained. The remaining and Thranduil had a bit of an argument before the Elven king got mad.
“DO NOT talk to me of Dragon Fire! I…have facced the great serpentss of the north!” He revealed his scars. Before covering them back up once again.
He ordered for remaining dwarf to be locked up as well. “A hundred years is a blink of an eye in the eyes of an elf. I can wait.”
You stepped out of your hiding spot finally. “Never took you for the patient type Thranduil. But I guess people change.” He snapped eyes to you.
“Who are you?”
“Surprised don’t even know your own Maiar. But whatever. I’m here about something else.”
“What.” He said irritated.
“You broke the promise we made years ago Mellon Nín.” You said, felling your anger rising.
“And that is?!”
You zoomed up to him, towering over him slightly.
“Your son has been coming to me for attention that a father should be giving him! For how long?! 2000 years Thranduil! And what was the one condition for you when you asked to watch over him?!” You yelled, finally letting it all out.
Thranduil didn’t dare look you in the eyes anymore. “I hope you know what you have done. I have protected this forest for this long. Do what is right and not what is easy Thranduil.”
“Protected us?! We are the ones clearing the spiders daily! You have done nothing!” He yelled once more from his throne at your retreating figure.
“We do you think the spiders haven’t showed in your castle yet? They are not afraid of you my King. They are afraid of me. But they I’m here and they know I’m strong. But they are to scared to get near me.”
Thranduil looked confused, but then realized. “You know their origin, their nest,….their master..”
“Yes. And I know what your going to do. And I advise you to not go to war for a couple of gems. Your wife left you something more.”
You then left to leave him alone with his thoughts.
As you got back to the forest, you knew a battle was coming. So you decided to pay laketown a visit.
——
This place you have been to before the Desolation of Smaug, but now Dale has been deserted and the survivor all moved to LakeTown.
You wanted to help them from the second dragon fire, but by the time you arrived to the scene. The town was already in ruins. Burnt and gown down to only wooden planks in the water.
Getting what they can, they moved to Dale. But you made an appearance as to seeing Legolas and Tauriel.
“Legolas.”
He was stunned by the voice, he knew only one that sounded so soothing.
“Y/n?”
“Yes it’s me my little leaf.” You slowly nodded are his words as he turned around to face you. His eyes widened at your appearance, you most definitely fit the description of a Maia. You were beautiful.
“Legolas? Who is this?” Tauriel asked.
“This is the Maia that I grew up with. Though i have never seen their full appearance until now.” He explained.
“Never mind my appearance. You both plan to ride north isn’t that right?” You asked tilting your head.
“Yes. I feel there is more to this battle than it seems.” Legolas said once more.
“……..right. See you there!” Y/n then disappeared in thin air.
The two young elves stared stunned by the sudden action made the Maia, but soon also rode north on their horse.
———
After long hours of riding, they finally arrived. “Where is this?”
“This my dear Tauriel, is Gundabag. Beyond this lies the Ancient city and path of Angmar. One of Sauron’s many fortresses.”
The two elves both snapped their heads towards the voice that came from behind them. Realizing that it was only Y/n as they calmed down. “When did you arrive?” Legolas asks.
“A ir io. (A while ago).”
“Angmar?’ Tauriel asked.
Legolas nodded. “My mother died there. My Father does not speak of it. There is no Grave. No memory.”
As the two were having a little moment about what Legolas just said. Y/n got to higher ground to look for anything.
“Knowing Mairon, he would not let this place go to waste. His orcs are smarter than they look.” You muttered to yourself. Looking back up to see light in a window.
“…!”
Getting back to the two, seems like they save the same thing. “There are still orcs left here. These guys are bred for war. We need to go back!” The two nodded, but you were stopped by the war bats swarming around and just right above your heads.
“We need to go now!”
———
Getting back to Dale was already a mess. You started to look for Gandalf. After a while of running around you managed to find him.
“Mithrandir!”
He turned around, very happy and relieved to see you. “Y/N! My good friend!”
“There is a second army! From the ancient city of Angmar, they wish to take over the mountain first than fully resurrect the city of Angmar. And I know for a fact he is back.”
“Who?” Gandalf asked with distressed face.
“M- Sauron.”
Gandalf nodded, then asked. “Where is the army coming in from?’
“Most likely Ravenhill.”
“Ravenhill?! Thorin! And Kili and Fili they’re all up there!
“Then it seems like this was they’re plan all along Mr.Hobbit. To Have Azog lead the charge then have his son sweep in from Ravenhill. Thorin must be warned. I’ll see what I can do to help.”
Getting down to the ruins of LakeTown, seeing a dead Smaug brought back Flashbacks of dragons that you and Mairon have once seen.
One thing about being the Maia that you are, one ability that you have that no one else really have is they ability to bring back the dead.
———
“There’s no love in you..”
Th enraged elven took one of his blades and sliced the bow in half.
“What do you know of love? Nothing. What you feel for that dwarf is not real. If it is love, are ready to die for it?”
Y/n jumped out from the sky it seems and landed on a nearby building. Seeing Legolas defended Tauriel as they walked away from Thranduil. Y/n then jumped down from the building he was on.
“Thranduil. Those gems were not the only things your wife left you. She left you a son. But its seems that you are also so blinded with greed that you cannot see past it. Our deal was broken years ago, but I never anything.” You walked up to him slowly.
“Because it seems that I became the Father that Legolas never had, and I accepted it. Thranduil I hope you can see past it now and mend things with him.” You then walked away.
Climbing up the buildings once more until you saw your companion in the air waiting for you. “Alright Smaug. Ready to roast some orc?”
He gave out a low delighted growl at this, then nodded his head. “Take that as a yes. Very excited yes.”
Soon the battle became madness as the orcs came from Ravenhill and Goblins as well went down the mountain, many were lost in this fight but many also survived this to tell the tale for generations to come.
The remaining orcs were burned Smaug as you were on his back, everyone was surprised on how the dragon that was slayed by a black arrow was still alive. Smaug agreed to stay away from the mountain from now on as he owed you a great debt.
Telling the dragon to stay outside as you went to find Thranduil and Legolas in the building. You found them talking to one another finally, and mending the relationship that was broken before.
“Legolas..”
“Y/n. Would you like to come with me? One last time?” Legolas asked with pleading eyes.
You nodded slowly. “Wait for me outside.” The younger elf nodded and went out as you were alone with his father.
“Thranduil…after meeting the ranger I can no longer protect him.”
“Please Y/n! Give me a chance to redeem myself.” The elven king pleaded.
“Thranduil i have already forgiven you. It’s just that after, I feel like he has to go on the journey alone. The journey will be a dangerous one but I trust he will be able handle himself. I have to hide Smaug after. If the dark lord knows that he is alive once more then he will try to take advantage of him.”
“I understand. Novaer Y/n. (Farewell Y/n).”
“Novaer Thranduil. I hope to see you in Valinor one day.”
Giving the elvish salute before walking out, seeing Legolas once more.
“Let’s go Legolas. One last time.”
————————————————————————
Tag list :
@edensrose @queenstarlight
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insomniatm1023 · 4 months
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my depot-sona! his name is Corvus Cardinal (bird theme LMAO) and he is my bbg istg
the text reads:
- quite awkward
- Team: Corviknight, Braviary, Talonflame, Gliscor (Ace)
- Fav show got cancelled
- Eyes red in light, purple in dark
- Usually quite stoic but he gets embarrassed/flustered easily
- tired most of the time
- has a lichtenberg figure/scar and thus is mostly blind in that eye, not that he had great vision to begin with…
He has albinism if yall curious :]
lovely refs by @mellon-soup!!
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stevebattle · 1 year
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Pluto arm and gripper by Karen Hensley and Hans Moravec (1984), The Robotics Institute, Carnegie Mellon University, Pittsburgh, PA. “If Pluto is to enter the real world, it has to be able to get out the laboratory door. But opening a door is a surprisingly difficult task for a robot. “It’s a lot harder than you think,” says Karen Hensley, who developed Pluto’s door-opening arm. To open a door Pluto must first find it. While finding a doorknob is a simple task for a human being, it is a big problem for a robot. Even a smart, ‘seeing’ robot like Pluto is nearly blind in human terms. … Even with limited vision, Pluto is able to find the door. At that point, Pluto must be able to grip the doorknob, turn it and pull the door open. … The biggest problem was to find a gripper (a robot ‘hand’) that could grip a doorknob of any shape and size hard enough, without slipping on the smooth surface. “We finally found the right gripper in a janitorial catalog,” recalls Moravec. “Janitors use the gripper on the end of a long aluminum pole to change the light bulbs on high ceilings.” ” – Hans On ROBOTS, by Fred D’Ignazio, Enter Magazine, June 1984.
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miredinmiddleearth · 2 years
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Rings of Power, Ep. 7 Review - RIP
I’ve made it this far...Buckle up, mellon. Time for my thoughts on episode seven:
1. Dang. Everyone survived. Whelp, except that guy whose name I neither remember nor care to remember.
2. Wait, they SURVIVED?! Heat alone would do the trick, but pretending they survive the heat, that’s not snow they’re walking through! The ash would finish off anyone left! Look, LotR doesn’t have the best history with believability when it comes to volcanoes, but Rings of Power keeps professing it is meant to feel grittier and more realistic. So much for that, I guess.
3. The scene where Durin begs his father to help Elrond is actually poignant...and it makes me angry. Here’s why -
Lore/book reason the dwarves awake a Balrog: they were too greedy and dug too deep.
RoP reason the dwarves awake a Balrog: Durin is desperate to help his friend.
Writers, do you not see how thematically misaligned and stupid you are being?!
4. So now we know how the mithril cures the darkness. Apparently you just sit beside it. Wait, that begs the question, why do you even need to mine for mithril? Couldn’t the elves just book a mithril session and hang out int he caves for a bit? Totally cured.
5. Miss Pro-Genocide Galadriel gives a lecture on goodness and letting go of revenge. HA. That’s rich! Have we seen literally any evidence of a mind-change or reason she grew between the last episode and this one? Psh, no. Why would we need such a thing? 
6. I actually found the scene where Miriel realizes she’s been blinded quite decent, as well! Amazing! In an ACTUAL display of strength (not whatever fake nonsense we’ve seen the women display prior), Miriel must maintain composure and pretend she can see so she can be strong for her people. They actually did something good? 
Don’t make me laugh. The next time we see her, she’s wearing a blindfold, not hiding her blindness in ANY way. Apparently she only needed to fake being strong for a short horse ride.
7. When the heck did they have time to set up camp? At least the show is consistent. They’ll always fail to include what’s actually relevant. 
8. Apparently we need to waste time worrying that Isildur, the incredibly vital character from later tales, is dead. Great use of time. Proof upon proof upon proof of the ineptitude of the writers.
9. Galadriel finally said her brother’s name! Her primary motivation, and it only took 7 episodes for his name to get dropped.
10. Celeborn DEAD?! They had me going for a second. But no. Clearly gotta come back (Galadriel says he went away to war and never returned). Still, super stupid. Brother motivates her but apparently couldn’t care less about her hubby. Also, she met Celeborn because he came upon her dancing? Seriously? You couldn’t give them their own meet cure? You had to steal Luthien and Beren’s?
11. Durin is going to mine all the mithril by himself? Great plan, dude.
12. So are we supposed to dislike the dwarf king? Because I don’t dislike him. Mining mithril is not safe. Period.
13. Cool burning of harfoot carts, but unclear how many perished. Unfortunately, I think they all survived. Alas.
14. SIgh. Bronwyn survived, too. Also, watching her fling her arms around her son’s neck reminds me that she was shot through the shoulder the day before. Healed up nice and dandy, apparently. Also, she’s awfully clean for someone that went through a volcanic blast.
15. I laughed the hardest I’ve ever laughed in this show when Nori’s dad gives his brethren a pep talk. He says the harfoots, better than anyone else, “stay true to each other.” I CACKLED. Harfoots stick together? The same harfoots who wanted to leave you behind. Who wanted to take off your wheels and leave you to die. Who didn’t offer a single ounce of assistance when you were injured. THOSE harfoots?! (The laughter continued when harfoot who proposed murder is declared “always right.”)
16. Halbrand survives to show his pretty face another day. HIs wound is infected and he must be gotten to the elves!
Oh wait, he’s fine. Walking around like the wound is nothing. No? He still needs immediate aid that will require a very long horseride? Okay...
17. I know they’re shooting for Disa sounding inspirational and supportive of her husband, but to me she just sounds straight up evil in that speech at the end? SHE sounds greedy and possessive and manipulative. Definitely don’t think that’s what they were going for...
18. Ah. She we’re not just changing greedy dwarvish motivations to helping a friend, we’re adding that a leaf woke the Balrog. What is this, Kung Fu Panda?
19. The introduction of Mordor’s name made me roll my eyes.
Just one episode left. Just one. The end is in sight. (Yes, I know they’ve started filming season 2).
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eunoiaastralwings · 2 years
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featuring erestor x reader / part one / part two / part three (reading) / part four
fandom tolkien- the silmarillion lord of the rings
a/n  @i-did-not-mean-to​​  here’s more.hun. for this story i was inspired to use the hc belonging to my dearest lovely mellon @aeonianarchives​​​ of Erestor being Caranthir’s son- am adding in own hc here too - Arwen as the descendant of Luthien and granddaughter of Galadriel had been blessed with powers - but she was still learning how to use them and since she couldn’t heal her mother’s mind and soul- she chose to hide it and only use it if it was ever needed - her powers like Galadriel’s, but a little different- you’ll see ;)
warnings blood, angst, battle, past
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The right side of your head was bleeding profoundly - the think red consistency half blinded you - some dried near the tops of your eyes and glued your eyelashes together - making it impossible for you to blink sometimes.
You didn’t even dare to breathe - you felt like your head had exploded into a million pieces. 
Your body was aching in places it never ached before - it was extremally difficult to stand on your own two feet, but you kept yourself together and pressed yourself against the stone wall.
You held onto the sword as tightly as you could- not afraid to use it on any other oncoming orcs.
“That’s it- am taking you back, you’ll die, Y/N!” 
Arwen’s voice filled through your mind and you almost felt yourself being lifted off the ground - the minute you felt the soft mattress on your back, you reacted quickly.
“No! Please! Arwen! - I can’t go without telling him! Am dying anyways! I have to tell him! I have to tell him. . .”
You cried- and placed your head against the stone wall.
Why did your life - always take a turn for the worse - when you were having the best time?
Earlier 
You snuggled closer to your beloved as the sun casted it’s rays - it was warm and bright. The perfect time to drag Erestor out from his library and enjoy the sun.
The hidden prince had just finished telling the story of the first age and what happened afterwards- of what his family had brought forth.
 The things he said shocked you- sometimes even overwhelming.
What Erestor had found it most hard to speak about was his mother- of how she held on even after his father was slain in the second kinslaying. 
You carefully peeked up - you didn’t want to upset him by asking.
“Did you think your father was doing the right thing?- Keeping you hidden from the world?”
He let out deep sigh.
“I thought about it many times- it would been easier for my mother- she would have received support from my remaining uncles or anyone loyal to my father - but then, I realized . . .- If I were to put myself in my father’s position- having an ongoing war that threatens my very life, to him it was doing the right thing- thinking I would have a normal life- away from harm. It was his way of showing me, he loved me- by keeping my mother and myself away from his name.”
You caressed his hand -  almost a year into your relationship - you had finally learnt to speak their tongue - understanding each other to the fullest. 
You had finally broken the language barrier between the both of you.
Present
“Y/N. . . - I can’t do this. . .” 
You heard Arwen.
The elleth was torn- from showing you the sources of magic she could weave to letting you go into battle.
While your broken, aching body laid on the bed in front of her - you weren’t truly there - instead you were here- next to the ongoing war - that screamed bloodshed and murder.
With every scar, wound and cry from your aching body- blood dripping near her feet- she still could not move from her position - for that meant breaking the spell.
A part of her left like doing it- so she could then, tend to your wounds and save you- bring yourself truly back and help you recover.
Arwen almost regretted letting you know her capabilities - but she understood your need- it’s like you said- you were dying either way and this was your only chance.
“Please, Arwen- you have to help me. . .- I need to see him.”
You begged- tears streaming down your face - mixing with the blood.
When you felt the small feel of the mattress disappear - reappear fully in beside the battle again - you knew she listened.
Slowly you crept closer- keeping the sword in your hand as you kept moving forward.
The smell of blood, metal and smoke, churned your stomach but you led yourself into battle - searching for your beloved.
You cut through your way through- if you were going to die today, it wouldn’t be until you got to at least see him again.
You fought your way through - not even thinking or feel any bit of fear.
Earlier
“You said your name means the lonely brother?”
You asked - laying your hands on his chest and placing your head there too.
How the sun was shining on him- it made the ellon ethereal than he already was to you.
With a finger- you gently traced his jawline.
He hummed in returned- his eyes closing at the feel of your finger tracing him.
“Do you think - maybe your father called you that because he was the middle child?”
He let out a dry chuckle.
“Are you trying to conjure up some theory about my father? - But yes- that could be the reason.”
“Maybe. . .” 
You laughed.
“Look at you though- you’re not a lonely brother.”
He frowned down at you.
“Glorfindel says you’re his brother.”
At that Erestor rolled his eyes- making you laugh louder.
“Come on- admit it, you love him.”
“I do not- he’s a dumb fuck that never learns to clean his disgusting boots before entering the library.”
You smiled and rolled your eyes.
After a few more moments- he began speaking again.
“My mother always said- her best friend was father. They always did everything together- and trusted each other with their deepest secrets. I think . . . - that’s why when my father died, she started to fade - she loved him dearly, but kept living here in Arda for her son. . . because he had no one.”
You sighed and placed a kiss on his jaw.
“She sounds like such a strong woman- an inspiration. . .”
“She truly is. . .”
Present
You let out a cry, feeling something sharp and deadly plunge itself into your stomach. 
“Y/N!”
Arwen screamed- but raised your sword and swung it at the orc.
You could feel your weakening heart failing and the blood pouring from your wound making you sway- your mind was numbing.
Only a few seconds passed- but for you it felt longer. . . - an eternity as the pain intensified. 
“Erestor. . .”
That was the only thing you said with a cry- wondering if you would ever get to see him again.
Running into this battle . . .-was it pointless?
You thought- just as another weapon slashed your back.
A silent scream left you- even then you could hear Arwen’s voice screaming- but it was all a distant echo.
You felt your entire world shatter - and the only peace you got was remembering the final words you exchanged with your beloved.
Just before he left to battle alongside Lord Elrond - just before your fate was told to you.
The moment he left- your heart was in pain - in a pain had made it impossible for you to breathe- crash to your knees screaming.
Earlier
“You miss her, don’t you?”
You asked- running a hand through his hair.
“I do. . .- but I had to let her sail. Even though she’s the strongest woman I know- I couldn’t take another second of her Fea drowning in loneliness just because of me. I pushed her to sail- promising her I’ll be fine- I wanted her to be with my father again . . .- I wanted her to be free and live with him. . . not hide that she’s indeed the wife of the 4th prince of Feanor.”
“You will meet her again . . .- both of them. . .”
“I want you to meet them as well. . .”
He whispered quietly to you and placed a kiss on your forehead.
“I hope to meet them. . .”
Erestor let out a content sigh- holding you close and feeling you snuggle up closer to him.
“Marry me.”
Your tired and a little sleepy eyes from his warmth - came to widen the size of golf balls.
Did he . . .- Did he just propose?
You shot up- and into a sitting position like a bullet and stared down at him. 
He still looked calm- unlike yourself and your head that was now running wild.
Elves took a long time courting- and travel into marriage.
Yes- you knew by no means were you a proper elf- but to shoot a question like that- . . .out of no where.
“Are you- . . . What?”
“Erestor!”
The sound of Elrond alarmingly calling Erestor’s name broke you apart- and words died on your tongue.
You never gave him an answer- you didn’t get the time.
When Elrond claimed that he needed Erestor for battle- you never witnessed Erestor look so angry.
“I chose to leave the sword down for a reason, Elrond!”
“I understand that- but we need all that we have, Erestor. - I understand your pain- but this may be out only chance in defeating Sauron.”
You had overhead them arguing inside Elrond’s study.
You knew as well - why Erestor chose his books over the sword.
He told you many times- a sword reminded of him of the past- of what it took from him- of what his family had done. . .
So when Erestor had agreed to pick up his sword once more- you were shocked.
When he came out from Elrond’s study he gave you one look of apology.
Then- travelling deep into the library, he casted aside some books and pulled out a heavy chest- the dust making you cough.
Erestor looked up at you cautiously - then opened it to draw out his sword.
The marking on it - it alarmed you- marked with a star . . .- the star of Feanor and a name carved in it. . . Morifinwë.
“I have to do this, Y/N. . . I promise I’ll be back”
He whispered- giving your lips a final kiss and left with Elrond.
It was then- something poisoned your health- a sharp pain cutting through your heart- weakening you.
When healers revealed to you and Arwen you were in fact dying. . . - your whole world crumbled.
How cruel was fate?
Never letting you choose- you never had a choice in the first place. . . - you were always to leave this world and return home . . .? Or would you return there?
But that wasn’t the most pressing matter - what broke you more than anything was. . .- you would die before Erestor returned.
Present
With you weak dying body- slashed by every weapon in sight you tried to spot him.
But with the sea of darkness and light fighting- you couldn’t. . . you would die on this battlefield without ever having the chance to see Erestor.
You tried to lift your sword- but realized you had dropped it somewhere.
You cried and screamed every hit to you body was a sign closer to death.
Everything around you was blurry - echoing and you no longer hear Arwen’s voice - only something ringing and paining your ears.
But you tried to blink it away. . . 
You saw a blurry silhouette of someone in the distant- standing alone- not moving.
Oh- was this the doomsman? - The grim reaper?  - Or the angel sent to take your spirit away. 
But when you blinked.
You noticed- they were looking at you with a wild shocked expression. Then- the dark eyes- shining with a dark blue had caught your eyes- this wasn’t someone sent to take your spirit away. . .
This was. . .
“Erestor . . .”
You whimpered- it’s what broke him out the trance- and he ran his way over to you.
Using his father’s sword to clear the way.
He didn’t let another orc hit you- instead cradled you in his arms.
“Y/N?” 
He couldn’t believe this eyes! 
What were you doing here?
“What are you doing?”
He said- holding your fragile body close- and continued to fight.
“I needed to see you.”
You whispered.
You heard his heart beating fast- you tried to bring your hand up and caress his chest over the armor - but found your arm was too heavy to lift.
“Here!- Y/N are you fucking out of your mind?”
He shouted- not understanding why you would risk yourself like this.
“Erestor. . . am dying.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He warned.
“No . . . am dying either way. . .”
You said- feeling the tears pool your eyes again.
Erestor looked down at you shocked.
“Even if you returned from here- I would be dead already . . . so I just wanted to see you one last time. . . - is that so wrong?”
“Y/N. . .”
“I can’t stay here. . . you know very well am not from here- . . . we should have seen this coming, Erestor.”
Erestor shook his head- still fighting - but he dragged you back away from the center.
“Y/N, no listen to me. . .”
He said- cupping your face.
“It’s going to be ok- we’ll get Elrond to-”
“There’s no time, Erestor. . . it’s my heart. . . it’s weakening.”
“No!”
He suddenly- sobbed- the strong ellon breaking before your eyes.
“Don’t you leave me too!”
You cried- and with much hardship lifted your hand and caressed his face.
“It’s ok . . . you’re not alone . . .- you have Glorfindel, Elrond, Lindir, the twins, Arwen- they are all with you and you’ll get to see your parents again.”
“But none of them are you, my love. . . I want you- . . .Please don’t leave me. . .”
He cried into your hand.
“Am sorry. . . please, smile for your mother when you see her again. . . for me. . . do not cry like this. . .”
You slipped away . . .
His voice drowned out.
His touch melted away.
You were floating.
A sudden blinding light came into your vision- your groaned - feeling dizzy.
Voices reached your ears- some clear and other unclear - more distant.
You narrowed your eyes- and tried to block out the painfully bright light.
“Ms. L/N? Can you hear me?” 
A masculine voice asked - the voice a little mumbled - and when the blurriness melted away you could see it was a torch? - No, ceiling light? - No, it was a lamp’s light placed over your face, with a man covered in blue surgical clothes, his face and hair covered talking to you with a torch hanging over his head too.
There were others beside him to- some in your vision trying to aid him.
“Ms. L/N, it’s alright- you are safe.”
He spoke directly to you.
The words doctor, nurses and hospital came to the front of your mind- but none of that was what you said next. . .
“Where’s Erestor?”
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tara’s taglist: @mslizziesblog​ @spidergirla5​​
erestor’s taglist: @itsdameron
note form tara : I lied there’ll be another chapter!
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mymovingfingerwrites · 8 months
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A Father at His Son’s Baptism
Cutlet carved from our larger carcasses: thus were you made — from a spit and a hug. The scratchy stuff you’re lying on is wool. You recognize the pressure of your mother’s hand. That white moon with a bluish cast is a priest’s face, frowning over a water bowl. Whatever befalls you now, you’ve been blessed, in a most picturesque and ineffective ceremony dating from the Middle Ages. Outdoors, the church lawn radiates a lethal green. A gas truck thunders down the street. Why, at emotional moments, do the placid trees and landscape look overexposed, almost ready to bleach away, and reveal the workings of “the Real” machine underneath? All bundled up on such a hot day: whose whelp, pray tell, or mutton chop are you? — tail-less, your cloudy gaze a vague accusation, not of the sins of my history, but ignorance to come, future cruelty. You’re getting red in the face, blotchy, ready to wail. Good. From now on protest and remember everything. Your cries assail even the indigent dead, buried in charity plots right outside, slowly releasing their heat, while you, born out of the blue into a wheezing spring, watch a chaotic mosaic assemble itself. You tune up. My love for you is half-adrenaline, half gibberish. More Latin and the priest splatters you. He’s got one good eye, and a black patch, like a pirate. Now, smiling as if he knows something I don’t, he hands you to me. If I drop you, loudmouth, will you bounce or fly? You were chalky and bloody at first, in the doctor’s grip, looking skinned and inside-out. Boyhood, a dangling carrot. I stare at you and experience the embarrassment of riches. I need to loosen my tie or I’ll faint. Outside a rake scrapes, sprinklers hiss. It might be best to set you down in one of these squares of light on the floor, striped by venetian blinds, and leave you safe in that bright cage. I could go have coffee, and come back when we can carry on a conversation. Men and women are afraid of each other. It’s true. Whisper and drool of my flesh, I’m terrified of you.
— Amy Gerstler, from Bitter Angel, Carnegie Mellon University Press, 1990
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sketch-mer-6195 · 7 months
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I'm back~
It's been a very, very, very long time since touching anything remotely related to LOTR or The Hobbit. But these past couple of months, Forsaken has nagged at me to read it once more and officially get through this series and be able to write once again!
Sadly with the name change on my account, it got rid of the series as a whole... thank the Allspark for google docs.
So, for this.... I'm going back to my roots when I first started here on Tumblr. Just to give me some nostalgia. A little drabble of my first OC for The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.
This is a spoiler as well to the sequel of Forsaken (which there are added spoilers of what is yet to come in Forsaken for those who have read up to chapter 14.) I shall bring back Forsaken once more after proofreading and tweaking it where needed. For now, please enjoy.
●●● ●●● ●●●
Sisílla, growing up in Rivendell, was always escorted by Lindir or by one of Elrond's three children. When she was introduced to Aragorn, at that time a young lad, she found him different but a pleasant boy. Her only interaction with the race of Men and he, growing up with the Elves, gave her high hopes that Men were all kind and understanding.
But during her journey with Thorin and Company and meeting Bard and the people of Laketown, she had mixed feelings towards them. Not hate or disgust, except for Alfred who was a leech, but not in love or confident. She felt the air around the Town Master of his greed. Nowhere near as bad as the Dragon Sickness that Thorin faced. But she also found the compassion and dedication with Bard and his children. It was the glimmer of hope that she needed and he was the one that visited her, after the Battle of the Five Armies, during and after the funeral of Thorin, Fíli and Kíli and the crowning of Daín. King Bard was there for her, as a friend and one she could speak to when she needed to escape Erebor from the painful memories.
After several years and returning to Rivendell, Aragorn had been one of the first to welcome Sisílla home and knew by her hollow voice and meek smile that she had changed from her travels. As years passed and many moons later, Aragorn and Sisílla grew closer. She was his ward. And when he chose to become a Ranger, Aragorn apologized to her only to see her smile and her silver blinded eye glimmer with tears of joy.
"Mellon, there is no need for apologies. I have waited for this day for you to seek your own fate."
With a small kiss to his cheek, she bid him farewell and watched from the visions she had seen before to make sure he was safe.
~~~~
As the years passed and the dark whispers in shadows began to crawl across Middle-Earth, rumors of the One Ring had begun to flock near and far. Raven's from Moria had stopped, that was a first sign for Sisílla. And then the sudden darkness and sense of dread came like a thunderstorm when Arwen brought Frodo to the kingdom after being stabbed by a wraith's blade. Elrond's council had sent word about the One Ring had survived all these years later.
Legolas Greenleaf, prince of Mirkwood. Gimli, son of Gloin. And Boromir, son of Denethor and captain of Gondor's army. All but he was welcomed by Sisílla as Elrond felt uneasy with the likes of Boromir. He had faith that he would help with bringing the Ring to Mordor to be destroyed. But to know that the Seer or Middle-Earth was also in Rivendell. It would have brought unwanted attention to the young woman who was not needing the stress of a Man whose father was not one to think clearly.
But it wasn’t to last for Boromir had begun to wonder and view the sights and landscape that was Rivendell. Light, peaceful, away from danger and war. Something that was so foreign to the Captain. With the moon taking its place in the night sky, he couldn’t help but take a slow and deep breath as the cool mountain air that welcomed him happily. But something caught his eye down below. Something made of starlight. To be correct... someone. Fair skinned and hair long and soft. Braided in a simple but intricate design. A circlette adorning her crown, and a pale blue and silver gown that was as delicate as the moons rays that followed her path. He watched with great interest of this maiden. He had not seen her, yet she looked as though of great importance based off of her attire. But something was not right. She was in no where related to an elf yet, she held herself with the same grace and obedience of them.
As she slowed to a stop and slowly turned towards the direction of where the moon hung, he noticed something fare more striking.
Her eyes.
They were that of diamonds. Brilliant and bright. More dazzling than any star in the night sky.
Enraptured by her beauty, Boromir for once, lost his ability to breath until she begun her walk once more. How can such a maiden capture him such as her?
○○○
Elrond's council was in session for the start of an important conversation. The Ring of Sauron was upon them. Men, Elves and Dwarves all under one council. But there was one seat that was open and placed next to Lord Elrond himself to his left. "It seems that we have one more?" Gandalf spoke, his pipe perched between his lips.
"And who would that be? If they had word of this council, they would have been here like the rest of us." Boromir said hotly as his patience grew thin with waiting on the late comer.
But it was pushed aside as the rest of the council murmured in awe, some in shock, two of which were honored to be in the presence. Confused from all the quiet excitement, Boromir turned to see where everyone was pointing and looking only to swallow his own words in a thick gulp. Walking in such silence and elegant grace, adorned in a velvety green gown that matched the color of mint and her same circlette and long silvery white hair, the maiden walked with Lindir by her side to the seat next to Elrond.
As she sat straight with such poise her silvery clouded eyes, unfocused but dazzled like diamonds, Boromir couldn't think. Stories were told and rumors spread. But to be in the presence of the Oracle or Rivendell herself was something more to add with the Ring of Power in the possession of the Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins. Maybe having his father send him to the council instead of Faramir was for the best. To bring the One Ring and the Oracle to his father would help defend Gondor, bring a beacon of hope to his people, and have the power to stop all enemies from Mordor.
Or so he hopes...
---
It's been a long time and I am so happy to have this here to give me the drive once again. For those who I am tagging... please let me know if you would like to stay tagged or not. I know it's been a very long time since writing for this franchise, but know that you all are what brought me to tumble to start off with. Especially you @luna-xial. With your amazing fiction work, you helped me face my biggest fears of sharing my written work to the world.
Taglist: @lathalea @laurfilijames @wordspin-shares @notlostgnome @blairsanne @welcome-to-writers-haven @luna-xial @i-did-not-mean-to @tolkien-fantasy @sillydowneyboat @lonikje @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @sirmacbethbeth @myselfandfantasy @mysticboombox @sweetestgbye
Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.
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brynnmclean · 1 year
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I was tagged in this meme by @heymacareyna thanks, friend!
tagging: @rain-sleet-snow, @urcadelimabean, @allatariel, and @laurenplayspeople but no pressure to answer, obviously (except for Lauren because I demand to hear Opinions like an annoying little brother)
three ships: current obsession: Galadriel/Celeborn/Halbrand, but also some ships I’m excited for you to meet, Holly: Beren/Lúthien and Maedhros/Fingon
first ship: I... I’m trying to think what my first ship was for Fandom purposes and tbh the only thing that is coming to mind right now is the Mellon Chronicles which is like, not a ship, but was Aragorn & Legolas centric??
last song I listened to: "Nightfall” by Blind Guardian (I am DEEP in a Silm Renaissance)
last movie I watched: ... huh, I’m trying to think... I actually don’t watch a lot of movies (I’m way more of a television person, last TV show I finished was 1899), so... maybe????? The Battle of Five Armies????? when we watched it together????
currently reading: I’m restarting my reread of the Silmarillion for the Venturers, and stalled out on Wheel of Time (The Fires of Heaven), The Fall of Númenor audiobook (made it through the Mariner’s Wife again though, my absolute beloved), and The Vampire Lestat... when I have more energy for literally anything other than the soul-sucking production of the Sound of Music, I’ll finish SOMETHING, Valar witness me
currently consuming: nothing, but going to go make myself a sandwich because I am actually hungry and need to capitalize on that!
currently craving: my blood sugar is High (242 but a downward arrow) so I am very thirsty... going to add water to the list of stuff to consume
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starlitwinter · 2 years
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I’m not evil
Even after telling him my story in a language he did not know, Manwë still looked suspicious but less so. Probably noticing that I was not carrying any weapon.
"How do you say again... Mellon? Oh no, that's Sindarin."
Well then, let's use the rough sign language and try to make him understand that I'm not evil. I put my hand on my chest.
"Leya."
Then I pointed at him.
"Manwë."
Before coming back to me.
"Leya."
He looked at me a little confused. Come on, Manwë, it's not that hard to understand. Fortunately before I could start my explanations again, he made the gestures I had made.
"Manwë."
Bravo you know your own name!
"Leya."
I nodded and he held out his hand, inviting me to follow him. And well, he gives his trust quickly. But I accepted it with no comment. It's always good to have a Vala by your side instead of nobody.
"Follow me young Leya." "Just because we exchanged names doesn't mean I understand Quenya now."
He smiled at me and we started walking towards who knows where. After a few minutes, Manwë started pointing at things before teaching me their names and then, I never thought that the most powerful Valar (after Melkor) would stoop to that but well, he mimed simple actions like eating and sleeping and taught me the words. This gave me a pretty... basic vocabulary before we arrived at the bottom of the mountain where he lives with Varda. Taniquetil or whatever. 
"And how do we get up there?"
He smiled at me and wrapped one of his arms around my waist before flying off.
"Oh my god. Don't let go!"
The climb was quick and we soon found ourselves at the top of the mountain. A kind of city was built there. Everything was pearly white and in the center of the city stood a house bigger than the others. It must have been Manwë's house. I was so amazed by the beauty of what was in front of my eyes that I didn't even realize that our feet had found solid ground. Manwë still had his arm around my waist and I still had the fabric of his sleeve in my hands. He made me let go of him gently before taking my hand in his. And we began to walk again. If my memory is good, the people of Ingwë live here too. So I should see some elves soon... Here they are! God they are big and sparkling. And with their blond hair. Too much beauty for my poor eyes. I'm going to be blind at the end of the day...
"Elves."
Manwë looked at me intrigued by my reaction to the sight of the elves. Because I was halfway to crying. Wait. What about me? Did the magic of the senario make me a fucking elf? That would be so cool! I quickly put my hand up to my ears before I felt plastic. Damn my swimming cap. I quickly took it off, letting my hair down and checked my ears. Ah. Still round. 
"So you had your hair hidden. As well as round... ears." 
Manwë had lifted a strand of my hair, clearing my ears.
"Still don't get it."
He said nothing and let my hair fall back down before lifting his own and showing me his pointed ears.
"Ears." "Ears?" "Ears."
Is he really using every possible situation to teach me Quenya words? Absolutely. Then he pointed to his house.
"Manwë, house."
What did I say.
"Leya, house. At least for now. We'll see where you reside once you can speak basic Quenya."
Wait. I didn't understand the end of the sentence but the beginning. If I understood correctly. I will live with him? And Varda? As long as I avoid Finwë's family I will be better off. And live longer. So it's a good idea.
"Manwë, Leya, house." "Manwë and Leya's house"
Yippee my first sentence! Which I probably wouldn't use anywhere. But at least now I have 'and'. I'm progressing!  Once in the house. Or rather, the castle for crying out loud. It's just huge. Anyway, Manwë called someone. A woman. Not Varda. An elf and spoke to her before pointing to me. She approached me and introduced herself, Ilia. And she motioned for me to follow her. I looked at Manwë to see what to do and he motioned for me to go.
"Go."
So like that, we get rid of me? Very well. So I followed Ilia into the castle and she took me to a room. While teaching me the names of all the objects in the room, she showed me my room. I guess this is my room. And boy, it's as big as an apartment. I sat down on the bed and she left me to get used to the room. 
Finally alone, the adrenaline of being in Aman subsided and I suddenly realized that I would never again hear Luke make fun of the mistake in my name. Or my questionable taste in food. Luke. My twin with whom I've shared everything since the beginning of my life. Luke, who I had the best time with. Luke. I would never see my parents again. Maman who pushed me to continue swimming, secretly hoping that I would make a career out of it and do what she could never do. Maman who made us dinner every night even though she said that soon it would be up to us to make it. Maman who separated and reconciled us when Luke and I argued. Papa who would hold Maman back. Papa who always took my side. Papa who watched science fiction movies with me. Papa who always gave me a book to cheer me up. 
"Oh fuck. I gotta get back. My family merde."
Tears began to slowly roll down my cheeks and I wiped them away as I went. I took deep breaths to calm myself. Just like I was taught. And slowly my tears stopped, leaving me just sniffling in silence.
"A bath. Let's take a bath."
I stood up and with one fluid movement removed my wetsuit and the bathing suit I was wearing underneath, leaving me naked in the room. I walked purposefully to the tub and stopped for a few seconds to admire it. Like the walls of the room, it was marble and shiny. I must have been expected to take a bath because there was already water in it. I dove in and found the water warm but not too hot. Water at the perfect temperature. I relaxed and closed my eyes. I could use a little nap...
"Leya? Wake up, you'll catch a cold."
I woke up to the sound of Ilia's voice and answered her in a sleepy voice before opening my eyes to look at her. 
"What?"
She pointed to the water.
"Water."
Then rubbed her arms, mimicking a shiver.
"Cold." "Ah okay. Cold water. I'm getting out."
I pulled myself out of the tub and exposed myself naked to Ilia. Fortunately, modesty had long since left my body. The collective showers and changing rooms of the pool had something to do with it... My nudity did not seem to bother her and she handed me a kind of towel. I'm sure it's made of wool of I don't know what. But I accepted it and dried myself quickly. Then she guided me to the part of the room that was the dressing room. And offered me a dress. 
"Dress."
I nodded and mimed the action of putting on pants and a t-shirt. She nodded and motioned for me to wait before searching the closets for what I wanted.  Once found, she handed them to me before giving me their names.
"Pants. Tunic."
I nodded but did not put them on. A little embarrassed I showed her with a vague movement my chest and my thigh and she laughed softly.
"Underwear."
She pulled out of a drawer a pair of women's underwear and something else that was supposed to be a bra. I put on the underwear and nodded to her that I didn't know how to put on the other thing. She nodded and helped me put it on. This thing is amazing because it doesn't look like a bra at all but it feels and fits exactly the same! I then put on the pants and tunic that she had taken out. Now dressed, she took me out of the room and walked me through the castle until I arrived at a door that must be at least four meters high. She knocked and beckoned me in. I did so. But she did not follow me. So I was alone in this room. Or rather this library, as far as I could see. Good God. We could have put two houses in there. The elves are not in the thin exaggeration! But I couldn't admire the library for very long because an elf approached me. 
"Hello young Leya. I am Luniteria and I will be your quenya teacher. Come." "So I didn't understand a thing. But hello to you too."
He smiled at me before guiding me to a table where we could see books, papers, ink and quills.
Oh merde. That's my Quenya teacher. 
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jcmarchi · 3 months
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Study: New Deepfake Detector Designed to be Less Biased - Technology Org
New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/study-new-deepfake-detector-designed-to-be-less-biased-technology-org/
Study: New Deepfake Detector Designed to be Less Biased - Technology Org
With facial recognition performing worse on certain races and genders, algorithms developed at UB close the gap.
The image spoke for itself. 
University at Buffalo computer scientist and deepfake expert Siwei Lyu created a photo collage out of the hundreds of real faces that his detection algorithms had misclassified as fake — and the new composition clearly had a predominantly darker skin tone.
Deepfake detection algorithms often perform differently across races and genders, including a higher false positive rate on Black men than on white women. New algorithms developed at the University at Buffalo are designed to reduce such gaps. Image credit: Siwei Lyu/UB
“A detection algorithm’s accuracy should be statistically independent from factors like race,” Lyu says, “but obviously many existing algorithms, including our own, inherit a bias.”
Lyu, PhD, co-director of the UB Center for Information Integrity, and his team have now developed what they believe are the first-ever deepfake detection algorithms specifically designed to be less biased.
Their two machine learning methods — one which makes algorithms aware of demographics and one that leaves them blind to them — reduced disparities in accuracy across races and genders, while, in some cases, still improving overall accuracy.
The researchDownload pdf was presented at the Winter Conference on Applications of Computer Vision (WACV), held Jan. 4-8, and was supported in part by the U.S. Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA). 
Lyu, the study’s senior author, collaborated with his former student, Shu Hu, PhD, now an assistant professor of computer and information technology at Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis, as well as George Chen, PhD, assistant professor of information systems at Carnegie Mellon University. Other contributors include Yan Ju, a PhD student in Lyu’s Media Forensic Lab at UB, and postdoctoral researcher Shan Jia.
Ju, the study’s first author, says detection tools are often less scrutinized than the artificial intelligence tools they keep in check, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need to be held accountable, too. 
“Deepfakes have been so disruptive to society that the research community was in a hurry to find a solution,” she says, “but even though these algorithms were made for a good cause, we still need to be aware of their collateral consequences.”
Demographic aware vs. demographic agnostic
Recent studies have found large disparities in deepfake detection algorithms’ error rates — up to a 10.7% difference in one study — among different races. In particular, it’s been shown that some are better at guessing the authenticity of lighter-skinned subjects than darker-skinned ones.
This can result in certain groups being more at risk of having their real image pegged as a fake, or perhaps even more damaging, a doctored image of them pegged as real. 
The problem is not necessarily the algorithms themselves, but the data they’ve been trained on. Middle-aged white men are often overly represented in such photo and video datasets, so the algorithms are better at analyzing them than they are underrepresented groups, says Lyu, SUNY Empire Professor in the UB Department of Computer Science and Engineering, within the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences.
“Say one demographic group has 10,000 samples in the dataset and the other only has 100. The algorithm will sacrifice accuracy on the smaller group in order to minimize errors on the larger group,” he adds. “So it reduces overall errors, but at the expense of the smaller group.”
While other studies have attempted to make databases more demographically balanced — a time-consuming process — Lyu says his team’s study is the first attempt to actually improve the fairness of the algorithms themselves.
To explain their method, Lyu uses an analogy of a teacher being evaluated by student test scores. 
“If a teacher has 80 students do well and 20 students do poorly, they’ll still end up with a pretty good average,” he says. “So instead we want to give a weighted average to the students around the middle, forcing them to focus more on everyone instead of the dominating group.”
First, their demographic-aware method supplied algorithms with datasets that labeled subjects’ gender — male or female — and race — white, Black, Asian or other — and instructed it to minimize errors on the less represented groups.
“We’re essentially telling the algorithms that we care about overall performance, but we also want to guarantee that the performance of every group meets certain thresholds, or at least is only so much below the overall performance,” Lyu says.
However, datasets typically aren’t labeled for race and gender. Thus, the team’s demographic-agnostic method classifies deepfake videos not based on the subjects’ demographics — but on features in the video not immediately visible to the human eye.
“Maybe a group of videos in the dataset corresponds to a particular demographic group or maybe it corresponds with some other feature of the video, but we don’t need demographic information to identify them,” Lyu says. “This way, we do not have to handpick which groups should be emphasized. It’s all automated based on which groups make up that middle slice of data.”
Improving fairness — and accuracy
The team tested their methods using the popular FaceForensic++ dataset and state-of-the-art Xception detection algorithm. This improved all of the algorithm’s fairness metrics, such as equal false positive rate among races, with the demographic-aware method performing best of all.
Most importantly, Lyu says, their methods actually increased the overall detection accuracy of the algorithm — from 91.49% to as high as 94.17%.
However, when using the Xception algorithm with different datasets and the FF+ dataset with different algorithms, the methods — while still improving most fairness metrics — slightly reduced overall detection accuracy.
“There can be a small tradeoff between performance and fairness, but we can guarantee that the performance degradation is limited,” Lyu says. “Of course, the fundamental solution to the bias problem is improving the quality of the datasets, but for now, we should incorporate fairness into the algorithms themselves.”
Source: State University of New York at Buffalo
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writer59january13 · 5 months
Text
This accidental arsonist sparked following matchless anecdote
I attribute being a grown mad scientist
linkedin with tacit approval of parents
(both long gone to the smoky afterlife),
and donned wizard trumpeting magic spells
while dark and stormy night
(one week before Halloween),
which usher nostalgic memories
encapsulated within the following poem
initially drafted quite some years ago.
Both parents possessed pedigreed panache
(but especially my father – renown Chemist
B.B. Harris and to slightly lesser extent
late culinary cuisine queen Harmit Harms
Kuritsky - gal whose troth thy then still
livingsocial nonagenarian widower papa
pledged, while holding some bubbling
sinister looking flask in hand while both
donned trumpeting finessed affianced
doctored formula to marry, when both
partook of blind date.
This combustible transunion link analogous
to their representative first electric kool aid
basic laboratory litmus test date), which
took place without a hitch, and telepathically
encouraged begetting retinue of revered
sons and daughters, whose ken hopefully
burned with passion KRISPR incubated,
inculcated, and incurred genetic outlook
ideally transmitted to prolific brood
of begotten babes.
This kid felt embers crackling, popping,
and snapping with yen that burned from
within and without buns sin burner of this
cingular earthlinked son.
No matter a bit tentative to experiment
willy-nilly (wonka like) with rather
explosive materiel, I received truckloads
of ammunition (in tandem with benevolent
benediction) to foster dare devil and
derelict pyromaniac precocity.
Those initial awkward formative forays
assaying, assessing and carefully calibrating
this, that or other liquid or powdery substance
found me meticulously measuring and
weighing the substances using kitchen
midden malodorous kid gloves.
Frequent disappointment arose from
yours truly as well as momma and papa
when net result (of these early attempts
to blend powders and/or liquids) merely
fizzled and self extinguished
into near inaudible poof.
Continual daily practice (would lead way
for me to enter Carnegie – Mellon ---- Hall)
after countless travails, trials and trolls i.e.
uber vaporous wisps to lyft yawping banshee
like holograms, or equivalent of 10,000 maniacs)
eventually bore successful fruit in the form
of near perfect results.
Success in hotly contested field Pyrotechnics
requires striking resemblance
to any other vocation.
One must be able, eager, ready and willing
to maintain burning passion no matter any
unforeseen setbacks or heat from an
objectionable source.
Yes, there would be an errant conflagration
(sometimes set purposely by adjunct professor)
as object lesson to master usage of fire
extinguisher/fighter, a vital piece of equipment
and evenhandedness for getting hold
instantaneously jetting kickstarter live matches)
to contain any runaway flame.
I do sheepishly admit to (ahem) you
on occasion the outcome went awry.
Nonetheless, they prided their potential
fire branded wizard in the making with
kudos and praise with DYNAMITE.
Practice from indiscriminately creating
unpredictable concoctions, these lethally
marshaled nonchalant opportunities
provided quintessentially random results
though usually very wimpy in tandem
with totally tubular nerdy, geeky, freaky,
and dorky beastie boy.
As proof positive and proud testimony, they
proudly pointed (upward) to the kitchen ceiling.
There such handiworks practically covered
entire ceiling with variegated splotches.
These scorch marks keepsake frescoes to show
kith and kin unspecified years into smoky future.
Quite accurate to assume
father and mother coached,
goaded, and nurtured
exploratory ambitions and
tried not to stifle
(at least consciously or deliberately)
my early stage ambition
toward scientific artiste bent.
As homeschooled and to some extent self taught
chemically romanced muralist, I grew up (not
surprisingly) in Unitarian household paid
close attention also adhered to the pioneer spirit.
The near limitless boundaries of life, liberty and
pursuit of understanding
an underlying credo, which
allowed, enabled and provided near endless
experimentation even at the risk of life and limb.
Aside talking head
nearly burning down the house
amidst talking heads practically in dire straits,
an instinctive reflex found me immolating myself,
occasionally singeing the canine fur of Lady,
Schultz, or Socrates, et cetera no frightful
catastrophic outcomes occurred thru milieu
of mixing deceptively harmless looking
inert raw materials.
Trial and error (quite successful with latter)
via blithely cooking dicey elements forming
goulash hiccupping laboratory mishmash
practically eliminated any pained regret to take
daring risks (such as getting married – ha)
in later life.
Despite favorable and lovable upbringing,
my mother (ever the protector and/or proctor
of our family and an excellent chef boyardee
to boot) still managed to insinuate (gently
as possible) the necessity to be careful when
igniting flammable materials lest
some uncontrollable conflagration ensue.
She (mom) did frequently confess to feeling
ever so slightly jittery and uneasy with my
slapdash amateurish homebrewed pyrotechnics
and much preferred to steer my attention toward
safer hobby such as the edible objets d’arts i.e.,
the much more drab field per how to present
and aesthetically appealing and nutritious meal.
Fondness to prepare food and pretend to be
faux renowned cook (this confession admitted
rather baldly and obviously deduced) actually
competed for my most favorite avocation activity
and spare leisure time.
In other words, this chap did relish designing
his own recipes mainly from leftovers in tandem
with unpronounceable multisyllabic organic
compounds filled numerous sized dishes
and aged apothecary bottles respectively.
Without question though, the passion plus
less riskier factor to combine and potchka
dry and wet ingredients together did rank
as considerably safer medium that still
allowed, enabled and provided me an equal
opportunity to test reactions, than those
earlier iterated potentially explosive hazards.
Nonetheless, my cavalier crusading overactive
appetite, hunger and thirst to discover causative
outcomes (even with purportedly innocuous
looking household cleaning supplies or easily
acquired inert materiel) nearly witnessed an
apocalypse at three two four Level Road
on one particular nasty occasion.
I anticipated our domicile would become
rent asunder, and reduced into a black
and decker ashen funeral pyre, yet for
grace of some divine force no family
members nor pets succumbed
nor got asphyxiated from choking acrid air.
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alwek · 1 year
Note
Chase Petra
Pacific
4 o'clock in the afternoon
for the music ask game
The song was on the EP do i just did that
Right away the cover reminds of Blind Mellon and Nouns, love that for the implications
Keanu Reeves immediately reminded me of Nouns and like 4 different bands right off that bat so hooo boy do i got some music for you
After going through that was wonderful! I love whatever people call this genre now, i know it as alt grunge but definitely under the rock genre which is a fave. Her vocals are fantastic and the instrumentals are great, over all I'd give it a high seven/low eight
I have to recommend some stuff in this tho because if you like this you'll like these too,
So I think you'll like the aforementioned 'Nouns' with their album Still Bummed
Running From A Gamble (album) - Company Of Thieves
The Boredom Keeps Me Up At Night - Disco Inc.
And Dead Sara - Dead Sara
Fantastic additions i think to a playlist with Chase Petra on it
@too-many-things-at-once
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barbourkaya29 · 2 years
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Fugazi, Blind Mellons, Buffalo NY 9/6/1993 (FLS #0578)
Performing in another rather intimate setting, in the presence of some 1200 patrons and headlining a remarkable bill with incredible Dischord affiliates Slant 6 and local hardcore heroes Snapcase, this one must have been right in Fugazi’s wheelhouse.
And since we can consider ourselves damn lucky that the recording presented here is complete, I am bumping this one up to the “highlight” category.
For further details and a spot-on write-up, check out the submission by fellow Fugazi enthusiast Antti Väärälä below.
Oh, and Brendan’s tom-toms sound phenomenal!
“Fugazi hits Buffalo for the second and last time, playing a gig at Blind Mellons. Judging by comments on the internet, the venue was a beloved place, holding many legendary shows in the 90's. Apparently the setting is quite unusual this particular evening, as Ian mentions in the opening remarks that the show was moved indoors due to the weather. The recording conveys this intimate and close quarters atmosphere very well. Ian's chat is casual and funny as usual and afterwards we dive straight into a fiery Smallbox Champion. 
As for the sound, there's some mix settling needed during the first few tracks, but after everything's set, this turns out to be a delightfully good recording overall. The low end is nicely in balance with everything and Brendan's drums sound powerful and clear. 
Vocals cut through just right. This is a strong tape throughout, representing the fiery level the band perform at during these times. 
The band has to take a long interlude right away to do some rather cooperative crowd control, but something else happens when they start Facet Squared and the whole show grinds to a halt. As you can read from the show's info, some actual renovation work is needed momentarily. It's amusing to try to listen to the proceedings, and of course some despicable comments are heard too, culminating in a downright barbaric ‘Who gives a shit if people get impaled?’ from someone. As you would guess, Ian counters appropriately. Eventually the band resumes Facet Squared but admittedly the performance now feels like they are on their toes, watchful for any more moving parts causing danger. 
Apparently everything seems to be in order and the band can raise the energy level to amazing heights. A few of the highlights include an inspired Stacks and a very brisky Repeater where Guy's guitar squeals extra nastily. 
The band pushes on with fire all the way through the evening. Apparently there's a problem with Ian's guitar rig, and while things get fixed, the rest of the band play a cool, shortened, jam version of Fell, Destroyed. Highlights follow, as Promises and Exit Only form a strong, seamless duo to finish the main set. 
Once again the encores take the cake. This time the band starts easy with Guy's Last Chance For A Slow Dance. To contrast this, Great Cop is as relentless as it ever gets. But all the weight comes down in the finale as Glue Man is the insane set closer. The performance is nothing short of crushing. As is basically always the case with Glue Man, the live renditions must be heard to be believed. This evening's version easily proves that point once again. 
Quote about the show found on the internet: 
‘Saw Fugazi there in 1993, memorable show as it was pretty overbooked, a railing fell and someone hit their head against the speakers while in the pit, also they had a peppers and sausage vendor across from a PETA booth. The thick fog created from people's body heat as they exited the venue after the show is a visual I've never forgotten.’ 
Another excellent entry from the amazing tour for the In On The Killtaker album. Recommended!”
The set list:
1. Intro 2. Smallpox Champion 3. Interlude 1 4. Facet Squared 5. Latin Roots 6. Interlude 2 7. Stacks 8. Rend It 9. Interlude 3 10. Instrument 11. Turnover 12. Interlude 4 13. Repeater 14. Public Witness Program 15. Interlude 5 16. Waiting Room 17. Margin Walker 18. Interlude 6 19. Long Division 20. Two Beats Off 21. Fell, Destroyed Instrumental 22. Promises 23. Exit Only 24. Encore 25. Last Chance for a Slow Dance 26. Great Cop 27. Glueman
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