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Dust settles in the corners of their eyes and the branches of their lungs, white staining their vision, breaths heavy with sand. The emptiness can be beautiful, can serve as a metaphor for their organs or their personal horizons, lets them blot out the sun with the curve of a thumb and wonder if that's all it really takes. They are warriors, but their boots are weighed with politics and they are marching a fragile line, ears straining for commands that come from tin cans, voices thick with static and numbers. But on they drive, and march, to ancient beats pulsing in the hot sand and the hot sky, waiting for the fire of danger to spark within them at any moment, fingers steady on their weapons. Acoustic guitars swell with their tempo, electricity zips up the strings to give them excitement, but static filters in and slows their footsteps as night washes the light from the world, letting their destruction become a celebration in the sky.

Marines make do.Collapse )
Current Mood: accomplished
10 August 2009 @ 12:44 pm
There is something… different about Sookie Stackhouse, though he can't quite put his finger on it. He can see the fire in her, burning underneath her skin, lighting up her insides with anger and compassion and pride alike. It is curious. In all the years that have been swept up in his wake, steadying his hands and his mind and his indifference, there have been precious few times where he has become so intrigued by something. By someone. And while our blond barmaid senses his interest in her, and her abilities, she finds that trying to ignore the sparks he sets off in her is becoming increasingly difficult. And so the beginning of their journey is set to faltering, uncertain static, filtering between the hum of guitars and smooth voices weaving in out, letting their story unfold. But then— the synths. Sweeping electronic beats and orchestral crescendos slip in to represent the foreign territory they unwittingly begin to explore simply by catching the others' gaze— and soon they are well on their way, letting emotion dictate what their actions should be, with no room for logic and little for peace. Sookie's corner of Louisiana will never be the same again.

Trust me.Collapse )
Current Mood: tiredtired
12 July 2009 @ 08:02 pm
Major Children of Earth spoilers.

In a thousand years' time—Collapse )
Current Mood: pensivepensive
02 February 2009 @ 12:34 am
There is something lurking in the heart of Dr. Jackman; a shadow swirling inside him, waiting, waiting, waiting for the moment it can be free. Maybe there's a potion. Maybe there's just a girl. But somehow blood and lust and violence and glee surge up and overtake his soul, and suddenly the good Doctor's conscience blackens and chars; becomes something delightfully dark and twisted. Something which has been hiding. Say what you might; everyone has an alter-ego. His just happens to have a name and unfathomable power. And so eerie electronic beats provide the dark, enigmatic beginning of our modern Jekyll's journey, morphing into vocals as powerful as Hyde's appetite, all framed by electricity and wavering, mysterious voices which seem to insinuate a deeper and more dangerous kind of mind. Proceed if you dare.

I love children, me! Snack-sized people always leave you wanting more.Collapse )
Current Mood: busy
21 August 2008 @ 03:46 am
Blood; sometimes it sets his teeth on edge. Other times it helps him control the chaos. Because inside Dexter Morgan lurks a hunger for destruction-- for the cold steel of his knives and the lush rip they make against human flesh, for body parts tightly wrapped in saran wrap, lowered into the Gulf in hefty bags never to be seen again. Say what you like; he's a very neat monster. Having no human feelings can help the process too-- our dear demented serial killer remains empty inside, save for the code of his foster father and the skills needed for his survival. And when the moon is full and hanging plump in the Miami night, the Dark Passenger lies in wait, its deep chuckles rumbling through the mind of our darkly dreaming Dexter, hoping to slake its thirst for blood.

Tonight's the night, and it's going to happen again and again. Has to happen.Collapse )
Current Mood: awake
Time does not falter and it does not forget; and their tale, truly, is a tragedy-- in two parts. Once, they were together, and traveling held such wonders for her; though she was the only wonder for him. A war nipped at their heels even as they spun through their fantastic life, and finally, eventually, they were drawn to its center, unable to unknowingly orbit the chaos any longer. And fate, as it does, had plans neither could have seen -- nor have wanted to see. Torn away from him, impossible to return to her old life, she remains trapped in an alternate universe, forever aching to see him again. He continues to travel alone, his empty ship only serving to remind him how lively it used to be. Time had not saved them. But perhaps she could.

The truth is: we ran out of time.Collapse )
Current Mood: accomplished
The first part of one of the most windswept romances to ever grace the universe -- the stunning tale of two time travelers, each the perfect compliment to the other. When their eyes align, time itself seems to still; they are hopelessly caught up in one another and they spin, carelessly, across the stars -- a pairing they would never hope to part from. These songs detail their growing conviction for each other, a chronology which follows their time together, ephemeral as it is.

And maybe we might go running, through seas and skiesCollapse )
Current Mood: excitedexcited
25 June 2008 @ 05:20 pm
The world of Sookie Stackhouse is impossible. It is a world of vampires, shape-shifters, fairy godmothers and werewolves, and our blonde telepathic barmaid is stuck right in the middle of it all. Not to mention the fact that she's apparently something more than human, she has a blood bond with a stunning, thousand-year-old Viking vampire who just so happens to control the upper part of northern Louisiana (and is her ex-boyfriend's boss, if vampire hierarchy is anything to go by). But politics isn't the only thing Eric Northman excels in -- he happens to be spectacular in bed. This compiliation is a careful look into their lives, in between the Royal Summits (who knew Louisiana had a queen?), the bloodshed, and unexpected visitors; folk and indie at it's finest, strung together by the common thread of a burgeoning romance which neither could've predicted.

“Eric, I really need to go. I got to get to work.” Or spontaneously combust, whichever came first.Collapse )
Current Mood: busy
Belle de Jour's voice is like a string of colored beads, like steps to the sea, and London -- well, London is her city. Cool air and cooler hearts mingle under a glowing skyline, glass buildings reflecting the streetlamps like manmade constellations, and it's behind these depthless gleaming panes where she does her finest work. And though certain words trail behind her, displaced breaths grasping for description, the truth is she is everything that they encompass, and more. They can say what they wish, but sex is her calling, her life, and she wouldn't have it any other way. She is clever, sophisticated, perfectly crafted and she is an experience you will never, ever forget. It's a business doing pleasure with you.

daintier, smarter, better dressedCollapse )

Music for the common time traveler -- when days split at the seams and you just need to step back. Because it's Monday and you've already hit the end of the week.

the only thing I ever wantedCollapse )
Current Mood: busy