#occasus

"Permitte divis cetera"...

“The library is the best place for this,” Nyota said, keeping close to Marcy and Mihre. “Oldarva, may I—? Ah, thank you.” She leaned lightly on the offered shoulder for balance as she followed her smaller guests.

“You know you shouldn’t be up and about, but Lumen can’t complain too hard if I’m supervising,” Oldarva said quietly, her little grin at once scolding, teasing, and sharing a conspiracy. “Will you be alright on the ladder?”

“Yes, it’s fine. And he’s just looking after me, in the end.” Nyota checked her grip strength against the lower rungs before letting it take her weight. The weak tremor was nearly gone now, a testament to Lumen’s skill. “I owe him a plate of my best flapjacks after putting up with me so well.”

“You know he will hold you to that,” Oldarva said, helping her up the last set of rungs.

Nyota patted her shoulder briefly in thanks for the help. “Of course. I’m counting on it.”

Marcy was waiting in the library with a small, nostalgic smile. “You made some good friends out here, Nyota.”

Nyota echoed the smile. “They found me when we needed each other.” She took Marcy’s hand and guided her over to the sofa. “A little like you did.”

It didn’t take long for Oldarva to return, Gizzie following close behind. They kept their hands clasped in front of them, clearly visible, though Oldarva hadn’t restrained them. Their hood was still up. Nyota could see stray curls in faded shades of blue and brown.

She also saw Marcy stiffen slightly at the sight of the tattered purple robes and cursed internally. She didn’t have an alternative yet.

“Marcy, this is Gizzie,” Nyota said as her prisoner hesitated. “Oldarva captured them outside of the Vault.”

Mihre perked up, impressed. “You caught a prisoner by yourssself? Not bad! Sprout has good taste, yes?”

Oldarva started to reply, but their comment stole her words and left her blushing as red as her hair. “I just did my best.”

“And then some.” Mihre grinned. “Well, well.”

Nyota coughed lightly and hoped it would only come across as trying to get attention. Her throat burned. “Gizzie, this is Mihre, Namina’s older sibling, and my best friend, Marcy. She is also a member of the Protectorate.”

Gizzie looked up sharply at the mention of the Protectorate; Nyota could see the awe in their shadowed face, though they swallowed it and just managed “Nice to meet you.”  

Marcy nodded, though she didn’t say anything in return.

“You can sit down,” Nyota told them. She indicated the open chair.

Gizzie immediately tucked themself into it, legs drawn up and hands in lap. They stayed like that for just a moment before remembering to keep their hands visible. “Sorry, sorry…”

“You can relax a little.” Nyota offered a small smile, aware of the irony in reassuring one of the Occasus. “If you wanted to hurt us, I think you would have tried that a while ago. Your cell door wasn’t locked.”

Gizzie turned the awed look on her. “It wasn’t?”

“You didn’t try the handle?” Sheer surprise would have raised Nyota’s eyebrows if she had any. The idea of being put in a room and not trying to find a way out… no, she couldn’t say it was foreign to her. She had been like that once, many years ago.

Gizzie just shook their head, and Nyota decided to spare them the knowledge of Namina lurking in the hall.

She noticed that Marcy was listening more intently now, though she tried to make it seem like her attention was on her hands, on the floor, anywhere but Gizzie’s face. Nyota took the plunge.

“I have a favor to ask,” she said, and felt Marcy go stiff beside her again. “You can guess what it is, I think. I know you well enough that I won’t force it on you. I have other options. You are just the best choice I have. May I tell you more?”

Marcy was on the verge of refusing. It was clear enough to see in the thin set of her lips. “Occasus aren’t welcome in Patchwork,” she said quietly. “They cause so much trouble, and stir up more between the ruling council and the Floran community. They’re dangerous. And every one of them that pops up makes it harder for the rest of us to prove we should be allowed to stay.”

She looked up and directly at Gizzie for the first time. “We have nowhere else to go. A little trouble could cost us everything, and we have everything to lose.”

Gizzie couldn’t shrink any further in on themself.

“I understand.” Nyota held her cards in silence, still. Marcy wasn’t done.

So, this is another episode on my random tracks selection where I played the random tracks from my vinyl collection and post those interests me at the instant (where copyright allows).

#5 Circle - Goldmund

Pennsylvania native Keith Kenniff’s output as Goldmund has established him as one of the preeminent composers of minimal piano-based ambient music alongside peers like Hauschka, Dustin O’Halloran, and even Ryuichi Sakamoto, who himself once described Kenniff’s work as “so, so, so beautiful”. Hyperbolic as it may sound, Goldmund’s newest collection Occasus may be his most exquisite yet. Where his previous recordings trod faithfully and sincerely on paths of dimly lit, polaroid-esque nostalgia, Occasus deepens the undeniable aesthetic that was hard-won over eight previous Goldmund albums, while expanding the palette to include desultory clouds of synthesizer and a tastefully distressed analog sheen.

The word Occasus means downfall, end, or the rising and falling of heavenly bodies. The title is apt in more ways than one: while the emotional tone of the album denotes bittersweet feelings of conclusiveness, it also perfectly soundtracks the quiet moments when we look up to the sky, and humbly relearn the smallness of our lives as cosmic objects churn slowly overhead with bewitching indifference. Occasus feels deeply personal, private, and hushed yet simultaneously grand, colossal, and profound. Remarkably Kenniff is able to capture micro and macro with equal fidelity.

Tangential to prior Goldmund material, there are a few moments of Occasus that feel dark and menacing like “No Story” and “Thread”, both of which broach urgent paranoia, and provide a refreshing counterweight to the idyll typical of the project. Kenniff’s music has always been unquestionably gorgeous, but seeing it set against an occasionally manic backdrop makes the moments of light shine that much brighter. Even when elements of Occasus play by the rules harmonically, they tend to unfold with a satisfying level of rhythmical disregard. "I like mistakes, I like when things don't go perfectly,” says Kenniff of his wabi-sabi ethos, “I do have a tendency to want for things to be perfect and precise, but I have to also realize that a lot of things I like about music and art are very rough and impulsive, the slight imperfections that give something or someone a unique voice."

here's a few recent tale of zifa sketches as of late where i'm practicing the use of more texture in my works. first is an illustration concept of qlumar in her "red devil" form, second is a redraw wip from a toz AU of caius confronting occasus about its behavior. the original drawing is from 2020.

qlumar is a divisive figure in zifastory, having been demonized throughout history and then giving into her hatred as a form of revenge. and yet she is still hurting deep down.

it's been 37 years and it still remembers.