February 7th, 2012

[bsg] morally? practically.

the rosary her lips and tongue

Oh man, you guys, BSG has destroyed me. I am a shell of a person with nothing left in me but self-perpetuating feels, I don't know when I'm going to shake this off. (WAY TO DROWN TWO YEARS AFTER THE WELL'S DRIED UP except not really because everyone is forever angry about s4/finale? Bless this shared pain.) Mostly: Caprica Six, you guys. Calculating-vulnerable robot goddess who loves as a weapon with the whole of her body and the whole of her heart; messianic transcendent evangel of the robotic mission who becomes transcendentally human by being the best within her design; most stunning iconic creature most fucked over secondhand for a solid season before finally getting an ending for herself that's simultaneously the happiest and the absolute saddest possible; clear-eyed unapologetic femme fatale survivor Cylon queen of my heart, and also, Tricia Helfer has a face. I'VE BEEN SPIRALING.

Thus, mix (which is surprisingly sonically coherent for being made by me—that never happens! It skews toward, well, LADY ROBOTS, because—tada!—that also happens to be something of a musical genre). vega_ofthe_lyre made me the art, because she's the best one.

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