Apr. 6th, 2014 07:47 pm
coldnorth: (pic#7644955)

Whoever they are they have posted some of my favourite new underground music. 

Absolutely worth checking out if one is interested in the melodic and the atmospheric





coldnorth: (pic#7644996)
Now truth be told, my family is pretty screwed. Yet, then again whose family isn't?. I however have been "blessed" with the fact that while my family has spread out through the entire country - the majority is split in half, alternating between the capital and waaay up north. I live in the capital, litterally right next to the mojority of my mother's family... They are all voltures, for the record.
The other part (my dad's family) Are gathered up together in one of the nothern coastlines many, many islands. nedless to say, they are very different from "southerners". I find the nickname rather funny, as the capital is tecnically not located "south" of the country... well well. 
It doesn't really bother me as much as it does my mother though, as I have witnessed many of these cultural differences as a small child, and been influenced by it myself...
However, what I really wanted with this post, is to show of one of my cousins new sheep. It sounds really perverse when I put it like that, yet apparantly my northener of a cousin wanted to breed sheep as a hobby - so he did. This one is my favourite. Her name was lost on me upon our presentation, yet I call her "Shara Ov Hell" meaning " Shara Of Hell". I found it rather appropriate, truth be told!
coldnorth: (pic#7644952)
A Comical take on life...

Written 2008.
Altered to present time.

ColdNorth (also SortEnke on dreamwidt) came to this world almost 23 glorious years ago, and when she came, she came with a bang. After brutally murdering her twin brother inside her mothers’ womb, she quickly achieved her family’s affection, being the first child and grandchild; the heir to the throne of wickedness.

Coming from a long lineage of lunatics, in which malice was heavily brewing beneath the surface, it was not long until she gained command of the other youngsters in the neighbourhood.
Her most beloved friends were the witch from Snow- white, and the invisible man, both taking shelter in her basement, drinking the fine stash of coloured liquid from her fathers’ bar.

When ColdNorth was six, she was sent to a brat camp for discipline, as her fragile parents were too tired of dealing with her. The other children did not like her wild nature very much, and took to mock her at every chance they got. This situation did not improve much over the years; especially not when the Wicked Witch from the west took over control of bratcamp.

ColdNorth was very, very angry. Though, noticed with, great desperation, that throwing chairs and writing spells, would not suffice. Instead, with as great stealth as she could possibly muster, she exiled herself to the forests, planning her poisonous revenge. It was said later, that she did not separate friend from foe, as a friend today, may still turn on you tomorrow. After all- like Tolkien said; the hearts of men are easily corrupted.

During this time, ColdNorth disguised her evil plans, by joining a marching band of instrumentalist; all misfits to the brat camps’ more sizeable group of residents. She gained knowledge of both sound and system, became a part of a much better society; and received, as an extra benefit – much needed spare time.

At her 8 years of age, her breeders hatched another egg, and she was no longer a one-(man) party. Her infant sister, a spitting image of her mother’s anger, had come swiftly, cunningly, and with no prevention. There was no stopping this one from disturbing the peace and the quiet, though lord knows people tried. With her sisters’ arrival, ColdNorth gained newfound knowledge of shared affection. It should have bothered her more, she supposed; but quickly realised - again, with much grieve, that not even her frozen heart stood any chance against this bundle of charms.

Round the time of her 13th birthday, ColdNorth was once again faced with changes. As older age had approached her, it was protocol for her – and her peers to proceed to another, more advanced bratcamp. Here the witches and warlords were even more cunning. They flew like snakes across the floor, always watching; always listening; always looking for trouble... There were still a few lambs in the pack, though – and ColdNorth took an extra liking to them.

With new environments came new people; and She was once again queen of her own domain. She was no longer an object of laughter and ridicule, but instead a creature most people more or less took a liking too. This suited her just perfectly, and she could finally focus more on her evil plans to destroy the world.

However, as time grew, she realised no wicked witch would do any good without formal attire. For that reason she came in contact with a fitting tailor, one who though her everything she had to know about the subject. She became black as night, moving swiftly and sturdy, like the queen she was. It gave her a new sense of fulfilment; this new appearance, and she finally felt like she had found herself. Of course, she had to kill a few copycats along the way, but that sort of thing came with the territory.

When she turned 16 – much had changed in ColdNorth. She was still as wicked as she had always been, but newfound courage allowed her to no longer be in hiding. She stood up for herself and her supporters, spent time with folk as cruel as her, and had now a giant herd of people she could control. Her powers had grown tremendously - Her parents no longer hatched thanks to her; she did not need any further distraction - and she had finally learned how to send things flying through the wall, thanks to her little sisters’ assistance.

- Brat High, a fond time for ColdNorth. Not only did she get hold of a handful of new foes to play with, but she actually had more fun doing it. She got a sweet taste of mortality, not only through her brat schedule – but through her artistic integrity... or should we say “un-tegrity”
She was often off on Witch trials, which made her see red, but it was nothing a little progressive fatalism couldn’t cope with.


Now she is 23, living on the bare fruit of life, killing and peeling off skin as she goes. Her time is spent at Adult-Camp where she is sesializing in language studies in order to read peoples mind. She will not sleep; will not eat – until she has reached her final goal...     World dominion!


coldnorth: (Default)

April 2014

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