#but i am also fucking aware that there's still oi punk and that there's a fucking reason that songs like nazi punks fuck off exist
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i fucking hate "what is punk" discourse on here i just saw someone claim that punk has to be inherently political as if oi doesn't exist
like some of yall on here will say things like "mcr isn't punk rock" (correct) and then put a reason that is just not rooted in the real world
and i do not at all try to say that i am the one valid authority on what is punk (that would be absurd) but please. fact check what you say and do not fucking try to make the history of punk less "problematic" bc you can't stand to like something that might be ideologically impure
#to be clear i am much more into the political kind#but i am also fucking aware that there's still oi punk and that there's a fucking reason that songs like nazi punks fuck off exist#pleaseee just go to a bunch of local shows talk to old punks have someone make stupid jokes abt the band on your shirt#i am begging you#also the flip side of this is of course that not everything you like has to be punk for you to be punk#ITS OKAY TO ALSO LIKE OTHER STUFF#fuck i need to get off tumblr and go to a show#spike spoke
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Rivetra Week 2021
lol not me completely not knowing that Rivetra Week was happening THIS week and frantically trying to put something together. but on a more serious note, everyone in this fandom is so incredibly talented, I am in constant awe of all of you. always and forever, thank you for reading.
August 25th - Day 2: Jealousy
Levi had never considered himself to be a particularly possessive person. Sure, he had grown up in the pits of the Underground and he had learned how to protect what was his, how to prevent people from sticking their noses into his territory. He had established such a strong and deadly reputation for himself that once he arrived at the surface, there were few that dared to challenge him and his authority, especially when he had someone like Erwin at his side vouching for him. He didn’t want for much, he was used to surviving on next to nothing, he didn’t have many possessions to his name and besides, no one would dare to touch his things or even enter his room without permission anyways. He certainly wasn’t possessive of his friendships with others, if he could even call them that to begin with. He was protective of his squad in the sense that he didn’t want to see the shitty brats get devoured by titans, but they were free to do what they wanted otherwise. Really, he wasn’t a very possessive guy, he never had any reason to be.
So he didn’t quite understand the strange feeling that had coiled tightly in his chest and the way that his blood seemed to boil beneath his skin when he saw one of the Garrison officers chatting up Petra.
Levi had permitted his squad to have the day off, claiming that he needed to make a trip to the local market for supplies because “rations only give us the shit kind of everything anyway” when they had all agreed to join him. Begrudgingly, he had accepted. To be honest, the entire excursion into town didn’t end up being as bad as he had expected. He had found his tea, special soap, some extra cleaning supplies, and even a nice bottle of whiskey; he even considered sharing some with the rest of his squad later in the evening and they were just about ready to depart when the local flower stand had caught Petra’s eye. “They remind me of home,” she had said softly as she eyed the yellow chrysanthemums, a wistful look on her face, and she was quickly drawn to them, promising him that she would only be a moment. He had turned his back to get the horses, only a few minutes, but when he was just about to see what was taking her so long (“Oi, Ral, how long does it take to buy some fucking flowers?”), he was there.
He was tall, blonde, radiating with boyish charm and wearing a goofy grin that made the captain want to sink his fist into his face for some unknown reason. His lips were moving, he was saying something to her, and Petra’s hand flew up to cover her mouth, but he could see the way her lips curled upwards at the corners, the way her shoulders shook slightly. She was giggling. Her face was flushed. Was she blushing too? Levi watched as the boy dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a coin, pressing it into the vendor’s palm before plucking a flower at random, a daisy, from the bouquet. He reached forward, tucking it behind her ear, stepping closer to her.
Levi was pretty sure this bordered on sexual harassment.
Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he felt himself striding over to the pair with purpose, a murderous scowl etched across his features. Petra turned to greet him with a smile, but the boy didn’t even notice him at first, still staring at her with that stupid look on his face, before Levi cleared his throat, noticing with smug satisfaction how the boy sputtered violently, thumping a fist over his heart quickly.
“Captain Levi! I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t see you,” he squeaked.
“I can see that,” Levi said, a bite creeping into the edges of his voice. “Ral, it’s time to get going, c’mon.”
She laughed nervously, twisting a piece of hair between her fingers. “Sorry, Captain, I was just going to grab some flowers when I got to talking with-” She gestured to the boy beside her before she blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, you didn’t even tell me your name.”
“Henri.” He nodded his head at her before turning to Levi, extending a hand. “Henri Augustine, sir. It’s an honor to meet you,” he said, flashing him a toothy grin.
Levi only glared in response and Henri slowly dropped his hand, wiping his palm against his trousers and glancing at Petra out of the corner of his eye.
He jerked his chin towards the horses. “Petra, let’s go.”
She nodded in agreement and offered Henri a small wave and a soft smile before the boy quickly snatched her wrist, tugging her towards him. “Petra, wait!”
Contrary to popular belief, Levi also didn’t consider himself to be an unnecessarily vengeful person; he only used the right amount of vengeance when the situation called for it. But when he saw the punk’s fingers close around her wrist, he prayed to whatever deity he could think of that a titan would wreak havoc through the marketplace and the little shit would become lunch.
Henri pulled her closer to his chest, far too close for Levi’s liking and far too close to be considered appropriate in public, and bent forward to whisper something into her ear. Levi couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, but he caught snippets of his words, something like “love to see you” and “keep in touch”. She was blushing furiously and it made his stomach churn. Violently.
He was just about ready to put an end to their little conversation and insist she come with him, they did need to make it back to the barracks before sundown, when the boy brought her fingers to his lips, giving the back of her hand a soft kiss.
Levi saw red.
Within an instant, he was beside her and shoving the soldier backwards. Henri stumbled for a moment, his arms flailing wildly, before recovering and staring at the captain in bewilderment.
Levi seized Petra’s upper arm and began dragging her towards the horses. He knew that his grip was far too tight, but he didn’t care, choosing to ignore her hiss of pain.
“Captain - ow! - What’re you doing?!”
“We’re leaving,” he spat through a clenched jaw. “Now.” He spun her around, grabbing her hips and forcefully hoisting her onto her horse. She squeaked in surprise, her cheeks flushing bright red as she hastily adjusted herself across her saddle.
She tossed one last look over her shoulder at Henri, who still stood there seemingly petrified, and offered him a pitying glance before the bright yellow flowers caught her eye once more.
“Wait, Captain! I didn’t get the flowers!”
“Tough shit, Ral.”
If she were standing on the ground, and feeling an extra bit childish, she would’ve stomped her foot in indignation. Instead, she gave a small huff, offering the captain a subtle lift of her middle finger behind his back and muttering curses under her breath before she joined the rest of her squad. The boys exchanged confused, and concerned, looks between them as Eld rode beside her, leaning in.
“Should I even ask what the hell happened?” he mumbled from the corner of his mouth.
“Nope,” Petra replied, popping her lips at the end of her word.
Eld nodded tersely before shaking his head at Oluo and Gunther, imitating a slashing motion across his neck.
It was going to be a long ride home.
——————————
Petra had always known that she was a beautiful girl: she knew about the effect that she had on the men around her, how they would turn their heads when she entered a room. She knew that they found her desirable, something that her father had cautiously warned her about as she reached maturity and reminded her of as she enlisted in the military (“Really, Pet, the only girl in that entire squad?”). However, even though she was beautiful, she wasn’t a particularly feminine woman. Her brazen confidence, strength, and thirst for vengeance, coupled with her Scout uniform that was usually covered in blood and guts, had most men running for the hills before she could even introduce herself. It was alright, she reasoned; they weren’t worth her time anyway. Besides, she didn’t have time for romance, not when she was risking her life everyday for the sake of humanity. Still, she sometimes found herself daydreaming what it would be like to fall in love, get married, raise a family, like normal people do everyday, like she could do when the war ended.
She flopped onto her bed, having retired for the evening and changed into her nightgown, twisting the nearly-forgotten daisy, the source of all her current woes, between her fingers and plucking the individual petals with a tad more force than necessary. She hadn’t actually been interested in Henri, he was far too tall and lanky for her taste. But for a brief moment, her heart had fluttered at the mere notion of loving someone and being loved in return, especially when the focus of her affections was being an absolute ass.
She groaned in frustration, rubbing at her temples as she pushed away from her pillow. She needed to talk to him, she needed to set a boundary and tell him that she didn’t need him rushing in to defend her honor like she was some sort of damsel, she could handle herself perfectly fine.
But when she opened her door, she nearly yelped in surprise to see the very person she needed to talk to was already standing in her doorway, his knuckles raised to rap against the door. He looked at her with a similar expression of shock before his face melted into his usual bored, impassive look and he quickly shifted something behind his back before Petra caught a glance of what it was.
“What’re you doing here?” he said in a low voice.
She gestured to the nameplate on her door. “This is my room.”
The tips of his ears burned red, the only sign of his apparent awkwardness. “…oh, yeah.”
She folded her arms across her chest, feigning nonchalance. “What do you want?” she asked. Her tone was dry.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Is that how you want to talk to your commanding officer?”
Petra gave him a pointed look, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation, another habit of his that she had picked up. “What do you want, Captain?”
He swallowed audibly, she could practically see the knot that had wound itself in his throat. It confused her; in all the time that she had known him, she had never seen Levi quite so… nervous.
He threaded a hand through his hair. “I just, y’know, wanted to say that I’m-” He pressed a palm against his chest and grimaced, almost as if the words brought him physical pain. “I think I owe you, um… an apology… for today.” He scowled. “Even if that little shit was being a brat. And um, here, I guess.” He thrust something into her hands and Petra blinked once, then twice, then three times.
Yellow chrysanthemums.
“You said they reminded you of home, right?”
Flowers. He had given her flowers. Instantly, all of her anger and annoyance and frustration towards him seemed to melt away and an unfamiliar, yet pleasantly warm feeling swept into its place, pooling low into her gut and heating her from the inside out.
“You never picked them up when we were in town so I doubled back and got them for you.”
He had gone all the way back into town for her. To get her flowers.
“Just don’t expect something like this ever again, Ral, because that vendor charged the fuck out of me, so if you want flowers, I’ll just go pull you some weeds from the forest next time-”
“Captain?”
She stepped closer to him until they were nearly touching and lifted up onto her toes, quickly placing a chaste kiss against his cheek, desperately hoping that he wasn’t close enough to hear the pounding of her heart against her sternum. His skin was surprisingly smooth beneath her lips, she noticed faintly, and she smiled softly at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks and fighting back a blush.
He nodded, muttering something under his breath akin to “get that shit in some water or it’ll dry out” before promptly bidding her goodnight. He turned on his heel, retreating quickly back to his office but not before he could notice, from the corner of his eye, her beaming smile, the kind of shit that lights up a room, as she stared down at his flowers. The sight brought a small smirk to his face and the tightly coiled tension in his chest that he had felt all day, ever since seeing that Garrison punk sidle up to her at the flower stand, finally unraveled, replaced by a faint stirring that made his heart beat just a little faster.
Sometimes, being possessive paid off.
He noted that for next time.
#rivetra#rivetraweek2021#ourworldrivetra#rivetra fic#levi ackerman#petra ral#levi x petra#petra x levi#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#snk#jealousy#i really hope it's not ooc#i did my best#and now i rest#hey that rhymed
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I’ve spent the course of COVID lockdown cycling through hyperfixations while also trying to engage in some much needed therapy (lolsob), and I’ve been essentially encouraging myself to try and do more things I can enjoy without feeling shame. Anyway, that’s a short way of saying I decided to blog about all the music videos of Depeche Mode for reasons of science.
The science is that my basic premise is that most of the videos are pretty bad in ways that I find to be pretty strange. Full disclosure is that I spent my teen years being a huge Cure fan and there’s an overlap there? Of songs with very niche high-concept ideas that don’t necessarily map onto a model of popular music but found mainstream success in the rise of new wave music in the wake of the collapse of first wave punk and amplified by the creation of music videos and music video TV. And I owned all the Cure music videos and played them on my iPod Nano because I was a very strange child. But to get back to my central thesis, many of The Cure’s videos are very stylised and fun and memorable in ways that are good. And yet, despite existing in the same sphere and having an overlap of fans, the music videos for Depeche Mode mostly stay bad until the end of the eighties, a fact I will prove by watching them all.
Can you tell that I am bored because i have lost my job and my mental health is making me fixate on strange shit currently because that is absolutely the case right now
Speak & Spell
Dreaming of Me (Feb 1981)
The single art is really lovely - the red/yellow contrast is very striking against the white, and I really love the design. Hey remember when people used to go out and buy singles and you would appreciate them and the work that went into them? I don’t think I’ve bought a physical single since I was about sixteen. I used to buy them from the Woolworths music department because it was cheap and all my friends worked there, so they had a pretty lenient attitude about what exactly constituted paying for things. Woolworths policy of only hiring teenagers is probably what destroyed their business.
Anyway, Dreaming of Me did not chart super well, getting to number 57 and having no official music video - or actually getting onto the album. It wasn’t included on Speak & Spell in the UK until the 2006 re-release. So, there was no music video for me to look at…
Apart from this video I found from local TV in 1981 to promote the song. It’s a maybe-music video. Because music videos had only been around for about six years and MTV didn’t exist until later in the same year, my guess is that Mute Records were pretty cautious about putting money into a medium that might cost more than they would get in publicity. That’s only a guess. I don’t have a crystal ball for forty years ago.
Anyway, here are some children recording music.
If i was 19 and someone offered me a recording contract I would have taken it without thinking (like i took on all those student loans without thinking through any consequences wompwomp) but now I am nearly thirty I watch this and think, ‘These children shouldn’t be outside unaccompanied’. The passage of time has made a fool of me.
They go bowling and play Space Invaders which, hey, still sounds like a great night out to me, but I’m guessing that because this is very clearly aimed at teenagers the TV producers didn’t want to encourage teen drinking by showing them performing a gig at a club night.
I call it high fashion. The all-grey really sells it.
This reminds me so much of a advice column in teen magazines - when they’d have problems set out in a little faux-comic strip of still photos? ‘My best friend stole and read my diary’ ‘My crush found out about how I feel and now he’s going out with my best friend’, that sort of thing. That is also a classic carpet pattern. I think my grandma’s living room had that carpet.
The video is very naive! It’s the sort of thing we would all see now on Youtube from bands just starting out and it is wild to me that this went out on TV. It’s very un-glossy and normal, the stuff that bands put out on YouTube now because of DIYness.
New Life (June 1981)
This is also a really great piece of single art. It’s very bold and striking - it would definitely be the standout record in a sea of other 7’’ released the same week. It also doesn’t particularly match the tone of the single but eh, it looks pretty cool. New Life did much better than Dreaming of Me and got up to number 11 in the UK singles chart. Still no official music video, but the charting meant that the band got onto Top of The Pops! ToTP was cancelled when I was a wee baby teen, because the BBC decided to stop caring about yoof viewership and promoting music was circling the drain everywhere as streaming hit, but it was the place to promote music so was definitely a sign that You Had Made It.
So, last video was silly and made by children, but now they’re wearing see-through mesh shirts, leather trousers, and leather hats with a design that I am a little bit dubious about. I grew up on the oi/punk scene and let me tell you about how many first wave punks wear iconography of bad regimes for faux edginess reasons because I met a LOT of them in my time.
Oh boy do i have thoughts about that hat. It also looks like a Leather Daddy hat which, well, let’s leave that thought to one side. Most ToTP performances were lipsynced. Playing things live would sound weird in the studio, be picked up strangely by the audio equipment and the cameras, so 99% of performances were mimed to the single. Now, some acts would deliberately play up to the pretence and refuse to act like they were doing anything that corresponded to the song - The Jam, The Communards, and The Cure are literally the first examples that come to mind who would just… not do anything close to pretending it was real.
This is not that. It is very earnest and awkward and serious, which sort of makes it very sweet.
Just Can’t Get Enough (September 1981)
Right, that is shibari, isn’t it? I’m not blind, am I? It’s a very striking image that 99.9% of people would not recognise other than being a striking black and white image.
I don’t think I can overstate how… innocent, in a way, this point of time was? As in the general level of knowledge about non-conventional stuff in the wider public at large. As in my mother, an almost teen at this point, saw George Michael walking with his boyfriend in central London and had no idea he was gay until he came out. It’s actually the widest cultural gulf I can think of between her teen years and my teen years because I was very aware of queer people from a young age.
Anyway, moving on, I feel like it bears repeating that this song fucking slaps. It’s the last single to be written by Vince Clarke and the last single until 2006 to be written by someone other than Martin Gore. This is one of those songs that just works on every level. Can you imagine coming up with this for the first album of your band? That blows my mind. It’s so overpoweringly good that it was probably for the best that it was saved for last - coming out the gate with a guaranteed fucking banger was been the nail in the coffin for a lot of other eighties synth/electronica bands. They scored a huge hit and then nothing after that managed to be as good or meet the hype. Depeche Mode had built up a far bit of radio play and interest before dropping this which turned out to be very good in the long run!
This got to number 8 on the UK charts and the first to get a music video! It is the only one with Vince Clarke. Full disclosure in that I had this song on my iPod through downloading the video to my computer (that’s how we got songs without using stuff that would give us viruses because i got a ton using bearshare for rare cure demos) and I remember watching the video, all of sixteen years old, and thinking, ‘Man, all these people look so grown up, compared to me, I can’t wait to be an adult!’.
Twelve years have changed my view, somewhat.
Look at this little baby man. Were you in one of my A Level classes - as in, ones that I have taught, not ones that I have been in.
Vince Clarke, however, has had a significant glow up in the six months and now looks like he is the bouncer in a leather bar. This is the One Adult in the room.
Ahh, I see it’s Open Mic Night at the local leather bar. You know what I was saying about how teens in the eighties tended to be significantly more naive about what we might call certain signifiers? Because what this outfit says to me, a queer woman in 2020, is susbstanitally different than to my mum and her friends watching this when it first came out. She would read this as ‘This is totally rebellious and cool!’ while I go ‘Someone just joined the university kink club and spent all their bursary’.
I don’t remember the member of Blazin’ Squad that wore a slave harness. (Now, there’s a reference that shows my age. A Blazin’ Squad reference in the year of Our Lord 2020. Hoooo boy.)
I read somewhere (that I can’t find now because, of course I can’t) that these are the band’s girlfriends and I always remembered that because it made me think, lol, same. One of my closest friends is the Head of London, so she’s in every band in London and if she’s not in yours yet give her time, and my partner was in a locally successful metal/hardcore band for about a decade and being connected with any sort of band means you will be helping out hugely behind the scene constantly. I have held lights, moved speakers, picked up instruments, been in music videos, and have bought tearaway trousers and glowsticks for gigs. You get called in to help all the time which is a lot of fun, so that fact always just stuck with me. It also makes sense financially because then you don’t have to hire any professional backing dancers, you can rely on people who will happily do it for free (while looking pretty rad while doing it!).
Anyway, the band look like those generic raiders that you run into when randomly walking across the map in a Fallout game.
I love awkward choreography in music videos. It feeds me.
Filming a night out provides A) Great footage and B) Can be done for limited overheads, leaving more money to be put into promotion.
I always like seeing this sort of footage in music videos. I tend to see a lot of it, given the DIY punk scene, and it always charms me. I am easy to please. And all those women have the most amazing eye makeup that makes me super jealous because it all looks so good.
That hat is on point. This looks like a still image for some sort of cyberpunk big band style swing revival that, sadly, lives only in my dreams.
It took me so goddamn long to screenshot this shot probably because i was also blasting dream nails whoops
Anyway those are my reactions to Speak & Spell’s one solitary music video with some other things thrown in and this took me way too long. I make myself laugh though, that’s the main thing. I will do A Broken Frame… at some point. I think I have a bunch of vinyl for A Broken Frame? My mum actually bought all the singles for that album and I stole most of her collection years ago. I will have to search and see what I can find.
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This is going to sound angery, but I want you to know that I genuinely like your blog [it's helped me as a Christian and been very inspiring] and you [I mean I don't know you but you seem lovely]. How can you compare Trump supporters to Nazis when Antifa set a university on fire to prevent a gay Jew from speaking? When within a week of Trumps election a guy was pulled from his truck and beaten for being "One of those white boys who voted Trump!" [he didn't even have a Trump bumper sticker].
Hey anon -
I’ve tried to figure out which one of your messages to reply to, because I’m only going to go this far off-topic for you once. I’m also going to do it under a cut, so my followers that prefer to avoid political discourse can.
In all honesty, I have no idea where you’re coming from, because I have never once compared Trump supporters to Nazis. Not once. Never. Don’t believe me? Here’s every instance of the word “Trump” on my blog.
In case you missed it, I’ve only posted one thing about him since the election, and that was the Christmas song “Oi to the World,” a diversity-celebrating punk song meant to encourage folks that might be feeling threatened by the recent rise in xenophobia. Am I a fan of Trump? Not by a long shot. Do I call all Trump supporters Nazi? Hell no. Because that would make most of my family Nazis, and I’m aware that they aren’t. They attempted to pick the lesser of two evils, and while I vehemently disagree with the option they picked, I am perfectly capable of still loving and respecting them as individuals who care about me and care about the state of our country.
You know who I called Nazis? Nazis. Antisemitic fascists who openly state “I don’t want a society based on equality“ or that promote so-called “peaceful ethnic cleansing” or that publish articles asking “Is Black Genocide Right?”
And I get it, I do. You’re on tumblr, and you see this mob-mentality that’s ready to tar & feather anyone that questions HRC’s policies or fitness for the office of president. You see everyone drawing lines in the sand and phrasing everything as “us” vs. “them,” as though we have to either align ourselves with violent rioters or the hate-filled professional troll & pedophilia apologist they were protesting.
But I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to buy into this system that says everyone who voted for Trump is a racist homophobe that wants to leave Syrian refugees to die. I’m not going to buy into the assertion that anyone who voted for Hillary Clinton is a libtard sheeple that hates free speech brainwashed by the lamestream media. I’m going to work hard with my local charity to ensure refugees find a place to call home. I’m going to engage my local senator to reassess his recent rubber-stamping of every proposal the White House sends out; I’m also going to challenge the people around me to be more respectful and engage in a meaningful way with him, rather than just screaming partisan slogans. And I’m going to do whatever I can to ensure the local and national government is held accountable for ensuring “liberty and justice for all.”
If you want to talk, (and I mean actually talk instead of anonymously dumping your socio-political existential angst in my askbox), please do so. I have friends and mutuals here on tumblr that I can talk about my faith & my political leanings with; people that challenge me and that, hopefully, I challenge to be better. You’re welcome to send me an ask or a tumblr message that I can reply to without having to fill my blog with this much off-topic political discourse. But I’m also not buying into a system that attempts to validate people spewing their political positions into the void of the internet when their followers are really just here for alignment charts and d&d related reactions gifs.
Also, fuck Nazis.
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labry au part 6. no puns today
Feeling Punch: *It has been fairly quiet in some areas of Hell. Too quiet. Rumors have spread and speculations have been made, but nobody is brave enough to confirm or deny.*
Actual Toaster: Makami: *he's trotting as much as a paper dog can do, doing so as casually as can be, clearly following some sort of smell. Or something.*
Feeling Punch: *Oh, boy! What hijinks is he up to?*
Actual Toaster: Makami: *he's following a smell, a smell of a person*
Feeling Punch: *What a wacky dog!*
Actual Toaster: Makami: *he wags his tail and quickens his pace, evidently having found who he is looking for*
Feeling Punch: *And here's Labry, just sitting there in a dark room with a ratty hospital sheet wrapped around his shoulders. He seems more surprised than anything when he notices Makami*
Actual Toaster: Makami: *he barks and wags his tail, like, HI*
Feeling Punch: Labry: ... What the hell are you doin' here?
Actual Toaster: Makami: CAME TO SEE YOU!
Feeling Punch: Labry: ... Huh. Well, you have.
Actual Toaster: Makami: YES! HOW ARE YOU?
Feeling Punch: Labry: 'm fine. You?
Actual Toaster: Makami: I'M GOOD! ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE FINE THOUGH?
Feeling Punch: Labry: No.
Actual Toaster: Makami: CAN I DO ANYTHING TO HELP YOU?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Nah, it's fine. Just shitty.
Actual Toaster: Makami: YOU SURE?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Yeah.
Actual Toaster: Makami: OKAY!
Actual Toaster: Makami: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he shifts* Here?
Actual Toaster: Makami: WHY?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Whaddya mean why? I live here!
Actual Toaster: Makami: YOU HAVEN'T BEEN OUT..
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he shrugs* I have.
Actual Toaster: Makami: OKAY, WHY SO QUIET THEN?
Feeling Punch: Labry: 's it matter?
Actual Toaster: Makami: SORTA.. I'M CURIOUS!
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he gives a half-assed shrug*
Actual Toaster: Makami: THERE HAVE BEEN A LOT OF RUMORS ABOUT YOU LATELY, YOU KNOW?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Huh..? Is that new?
Actual Toaster: Makami: SORT OF?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Eh? Y'wanna share?
Actual Toaster: Makami: *So they go ahead and explain the rumors to labry. by which I mean, tell him what they are*
Feeling Punch: *what are they*
Actual Toaster: *the main rumor seems to be that labry is dead. The others are that he is a fallen, gone soft because he assisted an angel, ect*
Feeling Punch: Labry: .... Idiots. I was out yesterday. And gone soft? They nuts? I'll show them!
Actual Toaster: Makami: ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT...?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Y'think I'd turn down an op to kill a lil bitch?
Actual Toaster: Makami: WELL, NO, BUT I WISH.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he rolls his eyes*
Actual Toaster: Makami: WHAT?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Y'really think so?
Actual Toaster: Makami: WELL I KNOW YOU WOULDN'T BUT THAT ISN'T GOING TO STOP ME FROM HOPING
Feeling Punch: Labry: Damn right.
Actual Toaster: Makami: ARE YOU GOING TO GET UP
Feeling Punch: Labry: Never. You can't tell ME what to do. *but, he does get up*
Actual Toaster: Makami: I THOUGHT YOUR BED ATE YOU LEGS
Feeling Punch: Labry: Then I'd beat the fuck out of th'bed and sew my legs back on.
Actual Toaster: Makami: HOW WOULD THAT WORK
Feeling Punch: Labry: Fucking sorcery.
Actual Toaster: Makami: OOOKAY THEN
Feeling Punch: Labry: What, you doubt me?
Actual Toaster: Makami: SORTA
Feeling Punch: Labry: I'm offended.
Actual Toaster: Makami: WHY THOUGH
Feeling Punch: Labry: B'cause you're bein' a lil shit.
Actual Toaster: Makami: WELL I AM LITTLE
Feeling Punch: Labry: Damn right, now lets go commit a murder.
Actual Toaster: Makami: BUT I DON'T WANNA COMMIT A MURDER
Feeling Punch: Labry: You don't gotta.
Actual Toaster: Makami: WHAT ARE WE DOING THEN
Feeling Punch: Labry: I'm gonna go kill em dead.
Actual Toaster: Makami: UM
Feeling Punch: Labry: C'mon, punk, we're goin' to the bar.
Actual Toaster: Makami: OKAY...
Feeling Punch: *AND THEY GO TO THE BAR*
Actual Toaster: *there is an angel in labry's usual spot at the bar! GASP.*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *who is this bitch and why is she in my spot.*
Actual Toaster: ??: *she feels someone staring and turns to see who it is. hey there labry*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he just takes the spot next to her, looking less than impressed*
Actual Toaster: ??: Can I help you, good sir?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Probably not. *he leans forward and orders a drink from good ol' Sammy*
Actual Toaster: Samael: Been a while since I've seen you around here. Nice to have you back. *he nods and gladly gets to prepping Labry's drink* You been doing well?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Yeah, yeah. Needed a bit 'fore I could get back to pummeling, you know?
Actual Toaster: Samael: Needed a break? Well, you've got yourself competition now.
Feeling Punch: Labry: And you ain't sharin' who the hell it is?
Actual Toaster: Samael: Right next to you.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Well. *he looks over* The hell are you?
Actual Toaster: ??: Well, I'm an angel. Wasn't made obvious by the wings?
Feeling Punch: Labry: No, no, I mean who the hell are you, birdie?
Actual Toaster: ??: Zopheriel.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he makes a sound of acknowledgement and gets his drink.*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she's quiet a minute, then turns in her chair to face Labry* If I'm not mistaken, you're Labry, yeah?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Yeah? What's it to you?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she smirks, though it seems it was more of an attempt at a smile* Heard you beat big, bad, Michael's ass pretty hard.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he raises an eyebrow*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: I just find it impressive, you know?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Do you, now? *he keeps that eyebrow raised*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Hell yeah. He's the right hand of God. Why wouldn't I find that impressive?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Whatever. *he doesn't seem convinced*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: You don't sound very convinced.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Damn, really?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: You don't sound convinced at all, actually.
Feeling Punch: Labry: What a damn surprise.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *She raises an eyebrow* What's your damage?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Enough to topple a building. Didja want somethin', or are you just gonna keep singin', birdie?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she puts her elbow on the counter and rests her head on that hand* And why, pray tell, would I want something?
Feeling Punch: Labry: 'Cause every other person who just chats at me just wants a damn fight, and the last one was just a fan.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: What, does friendly conversation not exist with you?
Feeling Punch: Labry: *that eyebrow shoots up again* You should bloody know by now erryone in here speaks better with our fists, 'specially if you've been here enough to be "competition".
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: I'm well aware. We stand on equal footing right now. I see no need for us to fight, particularly not here.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he huffs and gets up*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Hm?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Just because you don't wanna doesn't mean I ain't gonna do what I came for.
Actual Toaster: Makami: DUDE CAN I EAT THESE FRIES
Feeling Punch: Labry: ... Yeah. sure.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *She looks over to Makami, who is now just. eating an entire thing of fries. cardboard tray included. and then she looks back to labry and decides to go back to her drink*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *and he decides to wait for the ring to open up so he can punch some motherfuckers*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: .. Oi. If we do end up facin' each other, may the best man win.
Feeling Punch: Labry: ... Yeah, I guess. We'll have to see, huh? *and he slinks away*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she raises a hand as a sort of farewell but doesn't watch him go or anythin'*
Feeling Punch: Azazel: *and he strolls over like yo what up*
Actual Toaster: Makami: HI THERE
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Hey, pup-stuff. *he decides to not comment on Makami eating the cardboard, instead picking up makami and sitting his ass down on that seat. it is his city now*
Actual Toaster: Makami: I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU HAVE DONE THIS
Feeling Punch: Azazel: You can still reach your damn fries.
Actual Toaster: Makami: BUT THEN I HAVE TO STICK MY LEGGY OUT
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Well, that's too bad.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: ..Yo, Azazel.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: *he turns to her, pushing Makami towards his fries, his beloved, his-* Yo, Zoph.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: How's it going?
Actual Toaster: Makami: *he happily chows down on these fries. well then*
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Not bad, yourself?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Doin' quite alright. Labry seems to have somethin' up his ass, though.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: More than he usually does?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Yeah.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Wonder why.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Seemed intent to fight me, and only backed off 'cause the dog you got there asked if he could eat the fries.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: *try not to laugh. fail step one* I've never been so glad that Makami is a mood killer!
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she chuckles* Yeah, it's a fortunate thing indeed. Either way somethin' seems to be aggravating him a fair deal.
Actual Toaster: Makami: I'M NOT A MOOD KILLER. I KNOW HOW TO SET THE MOOD.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: You're eating cardboard.
Actual Toaster: Makami: ALSO THERE'S GRAVY ON IT SO
Feeling Punch: Azazel: You're going to clog your dog-arteries and get fat.
Actual Toaster: Makami: DO I EVEN HAVE ARTERIES
Actual Toaster: Makami: CAN I GET FAT?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: At any rate, you got any ideas on what's got his jimmies in maximum overrustle?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: I've got nothin'.
Actual Toaster: Makami: PEOPLE ARE TALKING SHIT AND SOMEONE'S GOTTA GET HIT?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: *he picks up Makami again, and says in his best mafia accent* All right, tell us what you know before the fries get it, ya hear?
Actual Toaster: Makami: YOU MEAN TO TELL ME.. YOU HAVEN'T HEARD THE RUMORS ABOUT LABRY?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: You know I don't listen to that shit. What's up?
Actual Toaster: Makami: THEY THINK HE'S DEAD, OR GONE SOFT, AND STUFF LIKE THAT.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Ohh, yeah, that'd jam a rod up his ass.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Gone soft?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: The hell? Where'd that one come from?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Interacting with him is like being pelted with porcupines.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Being punched with a brick wall.
Actual Toaster: Makami: A BAG OF KNIVES
Feeling Punch: Azazel: A bed of nails laying on you?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Off topic.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: I had a good one, too.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Where did the soft rumor come from?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Because he didn't beat the shit out of one angel.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: What?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: As in, he let one person go and suddenly, he's soft. It's stupid.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Who?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: He's blue and was close to Raphael, that's the hints you get.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: ...Eugh, that arrogant little twit? Uriel?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Aaaand fuck you.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Fuck me? *she leans back against the bar counter* Wouldn't that be better done somewhere private?
Feeling Punch: Labry: All right, let's put this in a way you'll understand: Fuck right off.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: What have you got up your ass?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Well, you're annoying, your voice is annoying, did you literally come to talk shit and not get hit?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Haven't talked any shit.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Being pelted with porcupines? M, hm.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: It's called a simile, literally defined as comparing two concepts using like or as.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Ya could have just said "I was insulting you", and that'd have been better than you runnin' your mouth off.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: What, was that not obvious to you?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: There's enough hate tension over here to lift a hot air balloon. Will you two go at it, already?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: I've no intention to give him that satisfaction.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Your hat is ugly.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Is your ass jealous of the amount of shit that just came out of your mouth?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Yours totally is.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Surprise, I haven't thrown around a single accusation.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Surprise! I don't give a shit. I'll fight you over here if I have to.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Bullshit.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: I already told you I'm not giving you the satisfaction of fighting me.
Feeling Punch: Labry: So you're scared?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *She grits her teeth and clenches her fists* I ain't scared, you upstart snot.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Y'wanna prove it, ya coward?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: I'm going to mop this goddamned floor with you.
Feeling Punch: Labry: We'll see about that.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she gets up and storms off, vanishing in the direction of the ring*
Actual Toaster: Makami: I THINK YOU BIT OFF MORE THAN YOU CAN CHEW...
Feeling Punch: Labry: Nah. I don't give a shit how it ends. I just wanna punch her face in.
Actual Toaster: Samael: Labry. She is not going to be an easy fight. It isn't going to be you go in, punch her face, and be done with it. *He lifts the glass he was drying to check for wet spots, and upon finding one resumes drying it* I said she was competition for a damn good reason- she has an attitude to match yours, and boasts similar strength to your own.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Fucking fantastic, someone who won't last ten seconds. *and he turns to go and follow her.*
Actual Toaster: Samael: *he looks to Azazel* Tell me which one wins, yeah?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Yeah.
Actual Toaster: Samael: I'll go ahead and get medics on standby... *Siigh*
Actual Toaster: Makami: ARE YOU GONNA GO OUT THERE TO WATCH?
Feeling Punch: Azazel: I may as well.
Feeling Punch: Azazel: Sir Absurd Dog, you are now dubbed the Seat Guardian. *and he strolls off to watch*
Actual Toaster: Makami: I DON'T WANNA GUARD A SEAT BUT OKAY.
Feeling Punch: *So Labry and Zoph are fighting! By fighting, I mean trying to figure out how to bypass the others' resistance to Physical skills. Labry looks about ready to give up and punch her again*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she feints to the left, then goes for Labry's face*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he takes the punch, holds his ground, and swings at her in retaliation*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she ducks under his punch. how does it feel to punch an empty hat, labry? anyway she quickly retrieves her hat and backs off a little to figure out a new approach*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he looks her over, watching how she moves*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Well? Gonna make a move, or are you as soft as they say?
Feeling Punch: Labry: You're the one who backed up just to get a ratty old hat.
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Hey, I value my property. Can't say the same of you, though. *she casts Focus and follows up by aiming another punch at his face*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he takes it again- though he stumbles back this time- before charging up a Labrys Strike, and letting loose.*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she appears momentarily stunned, but fortunately for herself, recovers quickly and rubs her shoulder where she got hit* What in th' fuck?
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he just gives her a cocky grin* What's wrong, you've never been hit before?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: Wipe that goddamn smug look off your face before I do so for you. That ain't the problem, anyway! *she ducks her head down and slams into labry, elbow first, in an attempt to knock him over or wind him*
Feeling Punch: Labry: I'd like to see you try. *he is knocked back, but barely manages to grab a hold of her arm on the way back. This is followed by a crushing attempt to badly damage said arm*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *Mutters a curse under her breath* Oh, no you don't. *and she puts her foot squarely on labry's stomach, and kicks him away, at the same time wrenching her arm away from labry*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he's still grinning that terrible, horrible, awful smirk* Is that all you've got, birdie? C'mon, come get me!
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *She obliges, casting Deathbound, looking mighty aggravated*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *step one: dodge that. step two: approach, quickly, and aim a fist for her face. step three: ?*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *loudish crack, and a brief pause during which she doesn't.. do anything. And then she starts flat-out laughing, returning the favor of facepunching.*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he swiftly turns his head so she doesn't hit his nose, and his grin only widens* Are you enjoying that?
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *she grunts* ... I will admit I am. *and she goes to hit him, again aiming for the face*
Feeling Punch: Labry: Oh? *he backs off* So would you enjoy every bone in your body shattering, too? I hope ya will! *raise your hand if you like Labrys Strike. Nobody? too bad, he does it anyway*
Actual Toaster: Zopheriel: *there was at least one disgustingly loud cracking noise during that all, probably. but, well, she's down, in a heap on the floor, and it doesn't appear she's getting back up, at least not anytime soon* Haa... you're... far stronger... than I had originally thought... good.. going, bad boy.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he seems satisfied, and starts to leave, but pauses* Ya hit harder than half these damn gnats, I'll give ya that one. *and he hops out of the ring. He is go*
Actual Toaster: *zopheriel picks herself up after a minute or two and drags herself out of the ring, a hand on her face to catch the blood from her broken nose. there she go.*
Feeling Punch: *And so, Labry strolls back to the bar and takes His Seat back*
Actual Toaster: Samael: *he looks up* Back already?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Told'ja I could kick her ass.
Actual Toaster: Samael: Should I get a medic?
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he looks back for a moment* Nah, the birdies' got this.
Actual Toaster: Samael: *He raises an eyebrow*
Feeling Punch: Labry: Didn't I tell you? Didn't care how it ended. Just wanted to punch her face in. So I did.
Actual Toaster: Samael: I see.
Actual Toaster: Samael: I also see you've reclaimed your seat.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Duh.
Actual Toaster: Samael: Well, can I get you anything?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Shit, Samael, you know what I get by now. *he leans on the counter, and takes a sec to look at Makami.*
Actual Toaster: Samael: *he laughs* Sure, but maybe you want to change it up.
Actual Toaster: Makami: *he's rolling in some garbage.*
Feeling Punch: Azazel: How awfully mood setting.
Actual Toaster: Makami: YEAH, IT FITS YOUR TRASHY PERSONALITY
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he rolls his eyes* Same as usual, Samael.
Actual Toaster: Samael: You got it. *so he makes labry his drink and sets it down for him*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *n he takes it, watching Azazel try to catch Makami. This is not going well for him.*
Actual Toaster: Samael: We may need to get a dog catcher in on this.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Nah, watchin' him eat shit's funnier.
Actual Toaster: Samael: Which one?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Yes.
Actual Toaster: Samael: Fair point. *makami trips on a chair*
Actual Toaster: *skip!*
Feeling Punch: *Labry is Outside. Specifically, outside of Sheol. Just kind of hanging out. And not committing a murder.*
Actual Toaster: *so, we have a child over there. Aforementioned child is armed with a lance.*
Feeling Punch: *Labry is Interested and sits up to watch*
Actual Toaster: *this child then murders the shit out of a demon that has evidently challenged them. O h*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *DEFINITELY INTERESTED.*
Actual Toaster: *HOORAY, MURDER!*
Feeling Punch: *YAY.*
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: *with murder completed, he has now noticed labry. He is attempting to figure out who labry is and why he appears familiar*
Feeling Punch: Labry: The hell you lookin' at?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: obviously, the space behind you.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he huffs and glances away. It's not that he can't think of something to say, it's that he is opting not to. Bc ya don't threaten children, especially murderchildren, they will murder you*
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: ... I was looking at you.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Yeah, I figured.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: Do I, perhaps, know you? *he steps closer to labry*
Feeling Punch: Labry: No, who the hell are you?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: Me...? I am the Chariot, Merkabah.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he squints* You don't look like no fancy ass sleigh.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: Not a Chariot in the literal sense.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Then why the hell you called a chair?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: Symbolism.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Symbolic of what, someone sitting on you? What the hell?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: No.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: I do not remember the specific symbolism, but it is there.
Feeling Punch: Labry: whatever, kiddo.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: *he stiffens* Don't call me that. Now as I have introduced myself to you, who are you?
Feeling Punch: Labry: *Trust murderchild, y/y* Labry. Now, what the hell was THAT about?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: I quickly tire of demons choosing to challenge me.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Mm. I get that.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: So I choose to deal with it quickly.
Feeling Punch: Labry: And ya gonna leave the body there?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: Why not?
Feeling Punch: Labry: Shit, I was just askin'.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: I see this. I do not have an issue with it.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Yeah, me neither.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: They chose to challenge me and should have been prepared.
Feeling Punch: Labry: It's what they get for bein' stupid.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: Indeed, this is my view on it, too.
Feeling Punch: *it's silent for a moment*
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: ...Out of curiosity, would you kill yourself?
Feeling Punch: Labry: what.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: I said, would you kill yourself? *he tilts his head*
Feeling Punch: Labry: what.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: I am you, just as you are me.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *his entire expression is "what"*
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: You heard me.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Make some fuckin' sense.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: You are a part of me. *he steps closer to labry*
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he stays sitting but looks slightly uncomfortable* English, motherfucker, do you speak it?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: I do. I am speaking it presently.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Then put it in a way someone stupid would get it. In fucking detail.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: You are a part of me. You were part of my creation.
Feeling Punch: Labry: What the fuck?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: This is as simple as I can put it.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he seems puzzled* I have kids? ????
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: In a manner of speaking, yes.
Feeling Punch: Labry: ??????
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: ...
Feeling Punch: Labry: What the hell, why don't I know about this??
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: I don't know
Feeling Punch: Labry: :I
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: None of us know why you don't.
Feeling Punch: Labry: "None of us"??
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: Angels. You were an angel.
Feeling Punch: Labry: Me??
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: No, the man behind you.
Feeling Punch: Labry: No, really.
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: Yes, really, you were an angel.
Feeling Punch: Labry: The hell?
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: I've put this as simple as I can.
Feeling Punch: Labry: No, no, I get it. I mean, what the fuck? I don't remember any of this!
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: So I see.
Feeling Punch: Labry: *he looks bothered*
Actual Toaster: Merkabah: *he shrugs* I must be going now.
Feeling Punch: *and merk goes and labrys like 'wh'*
Feeling Punch: *and then labry sits there for another hour processing this information, before leaving and going straight to azazel*
Actual Toaster: Azazel: Yo, 'sup?
Feeling Punch: Labry: How much shit that I didn't remember were ya not gonna tell me??
Actual Toaster: Azazel: Eh?
#badlydrawnstuph#super short but its ok!ts been untouched since like 2015#and im goNNA FINISH IT#AAAAAAAAAAAAA#Labry AU
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