that haunting melody

anonymous asked:

I associate you with the sea, with sirens shrouded in gold or silver singing haunting melodies, with serenity in peace and a hurricane of fury in discourse. I associate you with Amethyst. I associate you with positive intent and a fortified protection, I associate you with control, I associate you with the black waves on the shore at night.

This is beautiful holy moly

Haven’t drawn Danae in a while, and I’ve been listening to a lot of violins lately… plus she needs an updated picture for my Halloween one-shot.

So here she is, the Undead Unseelie, here to enchant the masses with her underworldly beauty and haunting melodies.

Our party found a sidequest to kill a banshee in a church. Our necromancer gave us all earplugs before we went in.

DM: you don’t see anything except a rundown church as you enter.
Me (Bard): is there an organ inside?
DM: yes there is.
Me: I’m gonna play it.
DM: before you even get close to it, you hear-
All: we don’t hear
DM: you SEE the keys of the organ moving in a -what the bard can tell- is a beautiful but haunting melody. You do not see anything else though.
Me: I join in to duet with the banshee.
DM: (laughing) okay roll performance.
Me: crit 20.

The DM is laughing really hard by this point.

DM: okay so the banshee stops playing and starts up again, but as you are playing, roll wisdom…
Me: crit 1…
DM: (laughing even harder but a lottle evilly) okay… so.. as you’re playingyou feel an icy grasp on your neck and your earplugs suddenly come out… roll constitution…
Me: 23
DM: take 9 damage, everyone roll initiative

I get highest initiative, so I go first.

Me: I cast mending on my earplugs, and I play a jazzy shanty using my middle fingers and flip her off
DM: she really hates you…

youtube

This beautiful Swedish lady sings an ancient Viking song. Now watch how the cows respond. 

It is often argued that everything our ancestors did and said gets stored into our brains. Their experience and knowledge gets passed down from generation to generation. This may explain why we know or react to certain things without having any prior knowledge.

Kulning is an ancient herding call used in the Scandinavian region. The call is a high pitch tone that can reach long distances. The herding call sounds more like a haunting and sad melody meant to echo through mountains and alleys.

It was getting late and foggy on a magical night last month when Swedish artist Jonna Jinton wanted to try kulning. She wanted to find out if the animals would answer to the call their own ancestors heard when the women called them. Kulning might just be one of the most beautiful and enchanting sounds ever made.

Joey: Play Haunting Melody

Or maybe it should’ve been called Play Dramatic Melody? I dunno, either way.

Anyway here’s the (ACTUAL, not hotel mario) polished/fleshed-out version of that thing I played in stream. Because why not have a piano refrain? People stop paying attention to meteors falling from the sky to dick around on their instruments all the time, don’t know why monsters attacking should make a difference.

edit: sheet music is now available

Meet Me On The Battlefield
SVRCINA
Meet Me On The Battlefield

Meet me on the battlefield
Even on the darkest night
I will be your sword and shield
Your camouflage and you will be mine

Echoes of the shots ring out
We may be the first to fall
Everything could stay the same
Or we could change it all

The Ice Cream Truck

The ice cream truck arrives, right on schedule, at 2 AM, the third Friday of the month.

You sigh, rolling out of bed to look out the window and watch. And to listen.

The ice cream truck plays its usual haunting melody, parked outside your apartment. But what you strain to hear, feeling as though your ears are on tiptoes trying to make it out, are the wishes.

Coming from all around the neighborhood, children are running through the streets as fast as they’re able, forming an impatient line by the ice cream man’s window.

At the front of the line is a boy of perhaps 5. He excitedly wishes for a puppy, then hands the ice cream man a baseball card. Then he skips off down the starlit street, a smile on his face.

After he leaves, a girl, maybe 12, and her younger brother approach the ice cream man. The girl whispers something nervously, then hands the ice cream man a Valentine. You smile. You’ve seen this before. Children wishing for their crushes to like them. The ice cream man nods and accepts the card. The younger brother doesn’t wish for anything; he just wants to say hello. The ice cream man ruffles his hair and sends him on his way.

The last wish of the night, a teenage girl, self-conscious in the wake of the children. She approaches the window of the truck.

“I just want my mom to wake up tomorrow,” she manages. She throws coins on the counter and begins sobbing.

“The payment has to be something important to you, miss,” says the ice cream man, gently. The girl says nothing, still sobbing. The ice cream man nods, then closes his window and drives off into the twilight.

You’ve never seen a single wish given to the ice cream man actually come true. That’s why you don’t go down there much. But the children, the children.

The children never stop wishing.

playlist concepts

you’re in an old car, driving away from your home towards a new adventure, drinking iced coffee with the love of your life in the passenger’s seat, planning where you’re going to stop to see the sunset, and dreaming your adventure to be something amazing

you’re in your best friend’s room, blasting music, singing along to all the words, venting about the latest asshole in your life and commenting on the inevitability of heartbreak and now you’re actually free of the expectations of assholes

you’re sitting by a camp fire, it’s cold and a little windy and you’re drinking mulled apple cider and you can hear your friends laughing in the backgroud, but all that you can focus on is the fire and the feeling that you were meant to be doing something bigger

you can’t sleep, you’re on the verge of tears, and all you can think about is the melancholy ache in the pit of your stomach and how there’s a haunting melody filled with acoustic guitars that you can’t place your finger on

blasting music through the car stereo, wearing cheap sunglasses with your hair down, turning down the road towards the ocean and screaming the words in time with the music so loud with the only intention that even the sea could hear your words

An Ode to the Venus Signs

Aries: The primal lust for power that drives you fuels the spark in your eye and the deceiving lilt in your voice that rears just as you go in for the kill. You will eventually give up being the ever-brave knight and the same cold knife that pierces his heart in exchange for the purity you braved oceans of passion and battles of ferocious kisses in the thundering moonlight for. You will lay down your helmet not in defeat but to unleash a fierce tenderness that no other could ever match. 

 Taurus: You grant your body its right to speak for itself, you’re a lover of few words and infinite complexities. The burgundy wine that pumps through your heart and veins and out through your mouth intoxicates its ever-fortunate victim within minutes. The kisses you allow are accompanied by your luxurious velvet touch that, on its own, is a treasure worthy of an ancient and haunting sea borne melody of lust, deceit, and riches beyond measure. 

Gemini: Yours is an epic poem of magic and thermals thrusting you beyond the clouds and the stars in one flap of your winged self. An intense emotional threshold is accompanied by lighthearted joviality that lets itself be heard through your tinkling laugh late into the night. You are the adventure in any fantasy and the spirit of any angelic presence we have all felt when our wheels of fortune are on their way to the top. 

Cancer: Your gentle caress is the joy finally bubbling up from an exhausted heart. You’re the flower in the gun, the lover that hit the universe. The Valentine’s Day you imagined all those years that finally happened, the ribbon on an exquisite present you almost feel guilty untying. Your quiet devotion is emotional and romantic, crystalline perfection in a tarnished, stone world. 

Leo: The mischievous grin you unveil to the masses is nothing to the intense and yet… Exciting gleam in your eye when you unmask your bad boy disguise and become the gold-hearted danger we all secretly desire. You are the protector of the queen of hearts, jealous though your undying love may be. Somehow with you, the world is perfectly in sync with every breath that is shared, each movement a rhythm of unyielding devotion. 

Virgo: The crease in your brow changes ever so slightly for every different small emotion you allow to the surface. The perfection of each conscious movement and considerate placement of every inch of you is not unnoticed. The free spirit you unleash in your blessed vulnerable moments is the thunder of a rainstorm in a drought, a love with you is one of reincarnation of your lover’s prized memories and dreams plucked from careful observation and secretly tender moments of thought. 

Libra: Your youthful exuberance is open minded with a bright and surprising wisdom. The element of surprise is always packed neatly up your sleeve for when inspiration strikes your wandering mind. Though with light footsteps your travel this road, each movement is meaningful and not as wasteful as it appears to the ignorant eye. Your sweet intentions never turn bitter even in adversity, as your every move matches the most romantic of ideals with ease. 

Scorpio: Trust doesn’t fall into your rigid nature, as you decided it can’t. But how you long for it, to let go of a little control into trustworthy arms that feel of your pillow after a long, hard day. You have the loyalty of the best friend trope and the love of the heroine all contained in the body of what can only be a hero. You do not move quickly, but each stroke of the brush is one of intensity and saturation made with steady hands. The bouts of rash action do not last long, as you already know deep in your soul where you belong. 

Sagittarius: Worldly, exciting, fast and learned are your ways of rash and heated passion. You are jagged bottles wielded by the wild, but each cut of the blade is done out of fun and poisoned only by the cowardly. The jolt of sunshine and fall weather, the fall that tastes golden and slightly crisp, is only the instantaneous reward given before the ride. 

Capricorn: You are the everything you determined they deserve; the want and the need alike. Allowing yourself the pleasure of being the mouse in the game for once, with an ever protective grip on reality all the while. Your intensity is a quiet one, one that doesn’t speak but radiates. It is unyielding and wooden, but alive all the same. Your branches bear fruit that, for once, are willingly plucked with a silent thank you and perhaps a passing smile. Your roots will never cease to grow until the soil is gone and your stomach barren, but until then you are permanent and, most importantly, ever standing.

Aquarius: You take flight without warning, but how any would worship simply seeing you go. A disguised predator in a world of the unwise. But from you comes the pleasure of shrewd sport in the face of those simply surviving. To let your guard down sounds obscene until you allow yourself to understand the truth; the truth that allows you to shed your old and tired skin. Like the snake you are blind before your fresh skin, and you can roll with it or forge a fresh path. 

Pisces: The mysteries of the universe lie within your magnetic eyes and wry smile. Your every move fascinates and alienates and is left for only the dedicated to make sense of. You create a new world for your person, with exquisite detail and an unparalleled sense of wonder. But danger looms in the back of your incredible mind and with the shift of your thoughts you can press the tempting button of self-destruction. Burning bridges is a staple of your watery magic, and you the lone arsonist. Perhaps you could put down the matches, but who’s to say you ever will decide it’s worth it?

4

Alice: My debut was at the annual Orphan’s Benefit. The first time I saw Boris I was too distracted by his music to even get a chance introduce myself after his performance. Despite his reputation of a scatterbrain, his music hypnotized me with its haunting melody. It revealed something deeper, of a sad story underneath such cheer and passion. From there, I felt an instant connection with Boris before I even spoke a word to him.

Then another figure joined Boris on stage, the show’s host Bendy the Dancing Demon. I had seen many demons in my days but I never had seen a demon so… SMALL. He was the smallest demon I’d ever seen. Not only that, but he wasn’t intimidating in the slightest. He was, dare I say, adorable. Even stranger he actually seemed to revel in it. The crowd LOVED him instead of being frightened that he was a demon. Despite everything he was, they loved him. I….envied it. I wanted it. When the duo’s number was done I hit the stage and gave it my all. I killed it. They LOVED me. So much that it was enough to warrant Bendy personally coming to my dressing room to knock me down a peg. You should’ve seen him try to intimidate me, it was absolutely ridiculous looking back at how threatened he was by my performance. He tried to scare me away with some “advice” about the unforgiving road to stardom. But it only backfired. It only made me want it more, and to wipe that cheeky-grin off the little imp’s face. I didn’t know who this Bendy was but I vowed to get to know him, so that I could be more popular than him one day.

After the event was over and I reflected on what just happened. Bendy being here didn’t make any sense. I thought it was joke that a real Demon was running this whole event. But it was true. A DEMON was running an annual charity event and from the looks of it there were no ulterior motives, minus feeding his inflated ego. As a Fallen Angel, I no longer had the obligation to banish Demons but I had to wonder what the hell was a Demon doing on living on Earth.

Adagio For Strings Op. 11
Samuel Barber
Adagio For Strings Op. 11

Samuel Barber - Adagio for Strings, Op.11

Often described as the saddest classical work ever, Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings has an almost inexorable quality in the slow, steady upward movement of the haunting melody towards the hair-raising climax, before finally settling back to the subdued sorrow of the opening. The piece was famously featured in the film Platoon, and was played at the funerals of Albert Einstein, Princess Grace of Monaco and during the announcements of the deaths of Franklin D. Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy.

Alright I have been holding my tongue for nearly three years so I’m finally gonna say it - FUCK Michael Gordon Clifford for Close As Strangers. Fuck him for that beautiful, haunting melody. Fuck him for how soft-emo it is, as if he doesn’t KNOW that is my weakness. Fuck him for the way the piano mixes with guitars and creates such a fucking rich, layered wall of sound that overtakes your entire BEING when you listen to it. Fuck him for the fact that I basically start crying after hearing three notes of the opening guitar line. Fuck him for lyrical POETRY like are we wasting time talking on a broken line and every night i’m losing you in a thousand faces and living dreams in fluorescent lights while you and I are running out of time. FUCK HIM for the way his voice sounds on his verse!? That soft, resonant tone, sweet but tinged with darkness like melted marshmallows with a troubled past, the way he murders us all with beautiful vibrato in the very last line of the song, and then just runs off into the goddam night with that voice and NEVER FUCKING GIVES IT TO US AGAIN QUITE THE SAME ON ANY OTHER SONG?! Fuck him for the way Luke’s voice breaks on the chorus?! Fuck him for the smokey smoothness of Calum’s solo and fuck him for Ashton’s harmonies at the end???? Fuck him for giving us this ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE and then never performing it live??!?!? Never even acknowledging its god-like existence?!?!? FUCK YOU MICHAEL CLIFFORD FOR THIS DAMN SONG. I mean I love you and I hope you’re happy and warm and well fed but. Also fuck you. 

please like or reblog the post and use them as you please:

  • for the sake of fighting
  • YOU SHOULD NEVER TRUST THE PANTALOON
  • permanently occupied with your past
  • rolling with momentum
  • life is lonely and so am i
  • raise boys and girls the same way
  • art will survive, artists won’t
  • will nature make a man off me yet?
  • there will be a note
  • our respect ran so dry
  • life has a hopeful undertone
  • our brains are sick but that’s okay
  • i want to do all the things your lungs do so well
  • i’m dying to live
  • make art, not friends
  • thanks for the tragedy, i needed it for my art
  • i’m literally emo but let’s call it pop punk
  • raised to be stupid but taught to be nothing at all
  • we will find a destination that may only be seen with a naked mind
  • i sing of a greater love, let me know when you’ve had enough
  • life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself
  • i am not afraid to walk this world alone
  • DEFEND POP PUNK
  • try going to war
  • a microscopic miracle
  • a mortal playing god
  • put on some war paint
  • joy bloody division that’s who
  • if it looks like i’m laughing, i’m really just asking to leave
  • i’m not like them i can’t pretend
  • i’m just the way the doctor made me
  • i can’t stand my own mind
  • a poet is a blind optimist
  • i accept lostness forever
  • when did you look at your skin and decided you were an impotent dirty old locomotive?
  • well, my gun fires seven shades of shit
  • i saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
  • i don’t do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision
  • she tasted like imported sophistication and domestic cigarettes
  • love is a haunting melody that i have never mastered and fear i never will
  • great writers are indecent people, they live unfairly saving the best part for paper
  • well you can hide a lot about yourself, but honey what are you gonna do?
  • i was killing before killing was cool
  • another cog in a murder machine
  • we are all a bunch of animals that never paid attention in school
  • it was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing
  • these bright lights have always blinded me
  • ask no questions and you’ll get no lies
  • you’re always haunted by the idea that you’re wasting your life
  • i exist too much
  • but i come to love you, am i born to bleed?
  • i must admit i can’t explain any of these thoughts racing through my brain
  • who says we have cold hearts?
  • the most heroic word in all languages is revolution
  • born from some mother’s womb (just like any other room)
  • reach the dumb to fool the crowd
  • self induced manipulation
  • tv taught me how to feel now real life has no appeal
  • if all we are is just machines let’s become a miracle and break free from these chains
  • those who don’t know their history are doomed to repeat it
  • what would you rather be? the poet or the poem?
  • we are drowning in information but starved for knowledge
  • he made me understand why hurricanes are named after people
  • when you look death in the eye and death blinks first nothing seems impossible
  • he pretend he’s okay but you should see him late at night 
  • nothing kills a man faster than his own head

the saltwater sting (the sea does not forgive): a mix for sea witches, sirens, and the haunting melody coming in on the salt breeze.

in the sea - ingrid michaelson | sound the bells - dessa | song of the sea - cake bake betty | the sea and the rhythm - iron & wine | fire in the water - feist | sadseasong - a fine frenzy | drunken whaler - dishonored soundtrack | mariner’s revenge song - the decemberists | my jolly sailor bold - pirates of the caribbean soundtrack

[listen]

Steal away with me this sweet reverie
It is not the night and yet dreams dance and sway just out of reach
A haunting melody plays behind the eaves of memory
Chasing and erasing what could be if we believed;
In a madness of our making,
A timorous grasp for eternity.

© Courtney Turley 2017

Ja Nus Hons Pris
Richard the Lionheart
Ja Nus Hons Pris

In the late spring of 1193, Richard I composed a song. It was a ballad of melancholy and abandonment, of frustration and homesickness. The haunting melody accompanied lyrics written in Occitan. It is known, after its first line, as ‘Ja nus hons pris’. It is a song that would survive more than eight centuries.

The lyrics of the two most famous verses are:

Ja nus hons pris ne dira sa raison

adroitement, se dolantement non;

Mes par confort puet il fere chancon.

Moult ai amis, mes povre sont li don;

honte en avront, se por ma reancon

sui ces deus yvers pris.

Ce sevent bien mi homme et mi baron,

Englois, Normant, Poitevin et Gascon,

que je n’avoie si povre compaignon,

cui je laissasse por avoir en prixon.

Je nei di pas por nule retracon,

mes encor suit ge pris.

———

No man imprisoned tells his story

rightfully, as if he were not sorrowful;

but for comfort he can write a song.

I have many friends, but poor are their gifts;

shame on them, if for my ransom

I must be two winters imprisoned.

It is well known by my men and my barons,

English, Norman, Poitevin and Gascon,

that I do not have the poorest companion

whom I would leave to remain in prison.

I don’t say this for their reproach,

but still, I am imprisoned

Dan Jones‘The Plantagenets: The Warrior Kings and Queens Who Made England’