This is a weekly series of genre descriptions. If you disagree with my descriptions, you’re probably wrong. It’s OK. It happens to the best of us.
For the rest of this series, click here.
It’s like listening to the still calm of the air atop a cliff. The soft breathing of the wind nearly lulls you to sleep before you remember your purpose and step off of the edge.
The water rushes past your ears as you plunge into the ocean below the cliff. The water frantically boils with your sudden dive. As the water settles after your dive, you begin to float, first on the water’s surface. Then, lazily sailing through the air.
It’s like listening to city made of brass instruments floating through the sky. The wind rushing past the city walls creates a bright, booming sound that pulls people from the ground and lifts them up to the clouds. The peal of trumpets echos across the world, sending the city lazily spinning across the heavens, dancing with the air and the earth.
Inspired by the unequaled Dizzy Gillespie.
It’s like listening to a city-destroying mecha battle, buildings exploding as 20-story tall robots fight for the freedom of the cyborgs and their human allies. Fists the size of large trucks desperately grip swords so large that they’re only dwarfed by the spirit of the pilots controlling them.
Victory is not sure, but the hearts of humans and robots will always yearn for freedom that no boundary can contain.
By request: Baroque:
It’s like listening to the Earth crack and fracture, letting loose an ancient evil that has been patiently awaiting its inevitable release. Newly reborn, it slithers along the ground, like a sentient cloud, a miasma of malevolence. As it glides across grass, it steals the life from every blade it encounters, growing stronger.
Before long, the once weak wisp is now a towering tornado of torment.
What is that?
What *is* that?
While the ancient evil had been devouring life, its twin had been flowing through the night’s sky, stripping it of its darkness. Its twin surges forward, and the two primordial forces crash, flashes of jet black and pearl white lashing out, devastating their surroundings.
And just as soon as the battle began, it is over. There is no clear victor, but we are among the survivors. And that is enough for now.
It’s like listening to a joyful parade start to sweep by your window. As you lean out to listen, the music pulls you into the streets. Your feet barely touch the ground as you bounce through a crowd of dozens of new friends.
Inspired by Panjabi MC.