#jaliya

[astraalforest]

doodle dump heeheeee

[redspamedia]

Valentinstag: Geschenkideen für den Tag der Liebe

Valentinstag: Geschenkideen für den Tag der Liebe

In einer Woche ist Valentinstag. Wir haben sieben Geschenkideen zusammengestellt. Da ist bestimmt für jeden etwas dabei! Tauch ein ins Glück: Der Ratgeber für die Wanne Das große Glück? Gibt es nicht. Und dennoch: Jeder Mensch kann glücklich sein – oder es werden. Sogar in der Badewanne. Kommunikations-Expertin Denise Maurer gibt Tipps auf der Suche nach den kleinen, ganz persönlichen…

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[arulasocs]

Still Unimportant

Bloodthirst waned as she bit into the throat of an enemy ship captain. That night she found herself tipsy, talking to loud strangers. But they were not strangers; since she was told she was crew, they were family.

Suddenly she found herself underwater, bubbles obscuring her view of a homunculus housing the spirit of her nemesis, Jaliya. Even after her prosthetic was inscribed with a rune that allowed her to breathe, she wondered why she had allowed herself to believe it would never happen again. She wondered with furrowed brows why she thought Jaliya might finally listen.

But there she became her master, a teacher of morals, by example - because she commanded it. Though she had been whisked away and had been powerless to stop or even sense the spell, she decided she had won this round easily.

It left her stranded in Stormwind, her “home”, with no place to go for several days. But in those days, she found an assassination job in the new land; she found Pyre (whom she believed dead by the Legion invasion forces); she found herbs for the poisons she is known for; and she found a way to contact her captain.

She laughed and had no desire to traipse across the thick colored shingles of the city. That place was conquered, but not with politics or force. She is its parasite; she knows its innards.

One of her brothers, by contrast, is still important. Too important to stay in one place. So on the next cool, empty afternoon, she returned to Wolfguard, found a neglected Mr. Venomous, and met Jishin, who told her what she was doing was wrong. She agreed and sat with him for a long time, then progressed her plan by writing a lazy note -

if Stygian is Elite , i am not stygian .

i cannot Serve many . i am not a soldier .

thank You for the Generous Payments .

if i am ever Needed i may help . good bye ,

e merly .

- which she pinned to the bedpost with the knife she had laid the communication rune into. The quiet is a shrill drone in her mind’s ears.

-

I hope I can create a problem large enough to be noticed by you.

I look forward to meeting Justice at the end of your sword.

[jaliyainnozuka]

Resurrection

  Seconds… minutes… hours… days… months… a year… slowly they trickled, like the amber of Kypari… but pass they did… and finally… her Prison was complete…   With six wardens in place, Jaliya deemed the prisoner sufficiently contained. The others were told this was a new beginning, a second chance at life. Their failings would be forgotten and their strengths enhanced by working together as one being. And they bought it. Hook, line, and sinker. But that had never been the plan, oh no. Swan. Façade. Karen. They were nothing more than a prison. The perfect prison for the perfect prisoner. Not even death could grant her escape. Not anymore. Finally. After a year of toil. An entire year of fading, of being forgotten… Finally. Deep within the shared consciousness of the Prison, Jaliya stirs. The others were told they ruled equally, and for them it was true. But… Jaliya was the creator, the architect, the laborer. This Prison was created by her, and it obeyed her. Absolutely. Splitting herself and her faithful servant from the mind-stream of the Prison, Jaliya assumes control.

  Without warning, Karen stops her frolicking through whatever glade she had wandered to. Her eyes dim as the black star in her forehead grows in brightness until it dominates completely. As if falling unconscious, her thoughts are silenced, her pieces put in stasis. They would not remember this when she awoke, Jaliya had made sure of that. But they would notice her absence, and Meta’s as well. Something had to be done…   How good it felt to be herself again! How sweet the night winds felt as she glided among the clouds! How succulent the anticipation, the thrill of the hunt… She had never planned to reside permanently within the Prison, but she had never anticipated it needing six wardens. Her original soul replacements had been used up long ago, before the Prison conveniently decided that such tools were beneath it. But it wasn’t all bad… hunting was perhaps the best thing she could have awoken to. Below her, working tirelessly despite the late hour, a peasant farmer labored away to keep what little flock he had safe. His wife and children slumbered peacefully in the cottage not far off. They would suffer without him, and likely lose what little he had managed to scrounge together in the barren wastes of Westfall. His home would be taken by the greedy nobles… his children abandoned to the streets… his babe condemned before it could reach its first year. A deep chuckle bubbles its way from her throat, the only warning he received before she descends from the heavens, a dark angel of death.   It didn’t take long. It always surprises her how quick it is, how silent… how easily a life is snuffed out and how little the world cares. She was messier than usual, but then it had been upwards of a year since she had killed. Her only regret was the waste of good blood, but her current form rendered such reagents useless. Another regrettably unforeseen outcome of the Prison, but Ascendancy was not without its merit. Regardless, she had the soul, and as she turned towards the cottage, her senses trained on the sleeping, unsuspecting widow slumbering in the straw bed, she couldn’t help but giggle and grin at the thought of having another so soon after. What a lovely night this was!   Soon enough she made her way to her new lair, a lovely little cave tucked away in the ravaged hills of Darkshore. She hums happily, content at the thought of three newly orphaned children and how she had so drastically altered the way of things. Releasing the newly forged soul gems to float freely about the place, she struggles to quiet her newly freed and hyperactive mind, focusing to perform the ritual required for her Prison to continue in her absence. Eventually she settles into that familiar lull, where her mind and body become one with the energies around her. Tapping into the cracks of reality, allowing the sweet insanity of the Void to flow through her, she bathes the spirits of the farming couple in the cleansing light of oblivion.   Minutes later, or perhaps hours, her work is complete. The gems have faded from the color of a bruised plum to a sparkling iridescent clarity reminiscent of a diamond. The man and his wife were gone, erased… their memories and identities consumed by the Void but in such careful, focused fashion that their souls remain intact. Empty, ready to be forged anew. This world had been tortured by Jaliya, but not nearly enough for her satisfaction. She needed to wander it again, to breathe and live and experience it! But the prison needed its warden. And if she couldn’t be in two places, perhaps there could be two of her. Chuckling at the thought of having another twin, she readies another spell, the opposite to the first, and begins to fill the empty souls with everything that made her and Meta the beautiful creatures they were.   Another indeterminable amount of time later, she was finished. Exhausted, yes, but triumphant. Her servant and herself cloned almost perfectly and suspended in crystalline animation. There was only one thing left to do…            Shattering the crystals, she and Meta bring the two copies into the Prison just as they leave it, the two newcomers integrating seamlessly into the network, as if they had always been there. And in a way, they had. The two originals cackle and dance about with glee, completely free at last. Dismissing the Prison and its tenements with a wave of her hand, Jaliya surveys the world with her own eyes for the first time in over twelve months. Another giggle bubbles up from her formless body. She had done it. At last, the shadow of the Prisoner would haunt her no more.  With joy in their hearts and a year’s worth of malice to impart, mistress and servant depart the cave together, returning to the world as silently as the shadows they were.

[senegallife]

Comment: mahercissoko said "New logo #Discover #jaliyamusicAgency #jaliyacamp #jaliya #remember #logo #logga #music #label #senegal #world #design #by @greeneyezdesign #greeneyez"

[hurryupmode]

Album: Jatigui Year: 1985

Tata Bambo Kouyate is one of Mali's most famous female singers, born to a well known family of Jalis, hereditary musicians of the Manding people. This style is part of the Griot/Jaliya tradition of West African music. Tata's fiery, frenetic voice has made her quite famous in Mali.

This album consists of praise songs to (and named after) Tata's special friends and benefactors. These are the Jatigui, who in former times were kings and warriors, but today they are Malians of wealth and aristocracy, who have sponsored Malian musicians with incredible acts of generosity in exchange for songs about them, much the way a patron of the arts would commission an artist for a painting. This album was recorded in Paris, sponsored by Baba Cissoko, arranged on guitar, balafon, violin, kora, ngoni, and the Fulani flute.

This song in particular, Mama Batchily, is the name of one of Mali's most powerful merchants, a Fulani of the Jokarami clan, who has made his fortune in trading cloth, in Paris and Zambia. It's based on the Manding classic "Toutou Diarra" which is played frequently on Radio Mali to advertise Batchily's business enterprise.