#tego

[11oh1]

[flagtism]

tectus | tego

texi | tuerale

tectus - an older tueriyn individual.

tego - a tueriyn individual regardless of age.

texi - a younger tueriyn individual.

tuerale - a tueriyn sex term; a (varsex) term for characterizing one’s sex as tueriyn.

terms/flags by us. tagging @radiomogai & @dimensen.

[itxithingsrp]

“ we're so 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔.

𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 it to the 𝗽𝗲𝗱𝗮𝗹.

pedal to the 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗿.

we're so 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔. ”

[elpeordragon]

Oink 🐷

[sylvaridreams]

Tego - aka Briza Silkburner - aka Gunpowder Gelatine

I went back to the drawing board to work on Gunpowder and redesigned her completely. "Wait," some of you may be wondering, "You have a charr?" Well it may shock you to learn that I've spent a whopping <1% of my playtime on Gunpowder since making her back in 2016. :) <- smug

Ok yeah I rarely ever play her. Mesmer and I have a love hate relationship -- nothing I love or hate more or less -- plus I was never able to nail down who she was as a character. Long story short, a long-time gladium, once a devoted Ash Legion assassin operating under the Gunpowder name. After a mission gone wrong left her claws soaked in the blood of her warband, she vanished from charr society, presumed dead in the same disaster. She's spent the better part of her life seeking new purpose and a path to forgiving herself, while processing the tragedy and piecing together what really happened that day. Everything points to sabotage.

Though her face is badly scarred from the incident, and Tego has long since stopped using any of her old identities, she sometimes gets the sense that there's someone still after her, just waiting to uncover the truth of what she left behind.

[maravillainc]

tego. don.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Rosalía Album Review: MOTOMAMI

(Columbia)

BY JORDAN MAINZER

“La ambición, delirio de grandeza,” sings Rosalía on a cover of Justo Betancourt’s “Delirio de Grandeza” from her incredible third album MOTOMAMI. Meaning “Ambition, delusions of grandeur” in English, the phrase is appropriate for a song on an album full of similarly wild ones. To Rosalía, delusions of grandeur and ambition are one in the same, all part of a constantly transformational aesthetic. The Spanish folkloric singer-songwriter turned pop star, a woman who has been charged with appropriating Romani culture with her remixed flamenco, has actually done her research and then some. On MOTOMAMI, she fully delves into a further cultural melting pot. Jazz rubs elbows with reggaetón. Bachata, propulsive champeta, and dembow songs are triple decker sandwiched between Burial-sampling electronica, piano ballads, and deconstructed club music. When she throws in a sample of “Delirious” by Vistoso Bosses and Soulja Boy at the end of “DELIRIO DE GRANDEZA”, you can’t imagine the original tune without it.

Rosalía has always thrived because of her risky and experimental tendencies, her fame a result of her artistry. On MOTOMAMI, she presents herself further as an avid close listener, paying inspired, always fresh tributes to her forebears. The album opens with “SAOKO”, which notably interpolates Wisin and Daddy Yankee’s “Saoco”, albeit with pitch-shifted vocals, distorted piano, and clattering jazz-turned reggaetón drums. Like Rosalía, the song constantly changes, never truly committing to one thing, nonetheless thrilling. Throughout the album, Rosalía waffles a bit in her words, too, hating fame on the Weeknd-featuring “LA FAMA” but using her celebrity position to her advantage on “BULERIAS”, namechecking Lil Kim, Tego, and M.I.A. as inspirations on the latter. She’s blasting through NYC on the satirical “CHICKEN TERIYAKI” but homesick in L.A. on “G3 N15″, a song that ends with her maternal grandmother’s voice in Catalan. She’s reflecting on a broken relationship on the glassy, eerie “CANDY”, yet frank and positive about her sex life on “HENTAI”. “So good” repeats the humorous, Pharrell Williams-penned hook, in English, simple and to the point. All of these aspects aren’t contradictions on MOTOMAMI, and they’re not necessarily related. Rather, they’re disparate, but equal parts of Rosalía.

MOTOMAMI ends with “SAKURA”, a song beginning with audience cheers recorded during the El Mal Querer tour. The song was likely made when live music was an unthinkable entity, when relevance--especially in the pop world--seemed fleeting. Rosalía compares herself to a cherry blossom, beautiful, but seasonal, or really something with a definite lifespan. MOTOMAMI is the sound of an artist going all-in. What better time than now?

[psychicznie-rozpierdolony]

Mózg rozjebany w drobne kawałeczki.