#(yes he talks to Mohawk!Mark but that’s way later and it was ended too soon)

[barbie0303]

SPOILER FOR INVINCIBLE COMICS

I still think that Mark´s fight with Conquest should have been the "1 event in 1 issue" story instead of Invincible War

[blankdblank]

Next Caller Pt 7

Use of Come Wake Me Up Lyrics.

Ok, the feather image is a clearly edited copy of another tattoo i found so just pretend it’s more feather-ish in shape. :D

And apologies, i dozed off there a little bit trying to finish a request, which alas i did not...But here this is :D

.

Across the street you trotted smirking at the acorn decorated door you eased open and stood in the doorway of to keep dry while closing and tapping your umbrella to cast off any droplets. Inside your eyes lowered to the stand you set it on and turned to find Bilbo exiting the room in the back to reach the counter to speak with you.

“Miss Pear, I am glad to see you. How is your home? Nice and cozy?”

“Well I finally get to extend my bed full size, but from my apartment to that it does seem a bit more like a mansion at times.”

Softly he chuckled saying, “I bet. Now, I suppose it’s down to business then? Any ideas on what you might want?”

Anxiously you wet your lips and said pulling a photograph of the galaxy background on your laptop from your pocket you passed to him. His eyes scanned over it and you said, “It’s a bit odd, bear with me,” you said flipping in your notepad to the folded sheet with a feather outline you also passed him, “my laptop, that’s the background, simple purple blue and pink galaxy image but then I have a screensaver that had floating bubbles. And I was thinking maybe a feather with that as the design, galaxy with bubbles on it?”

Your brow inched up and he chuckled saying with a wag of his finger, “Come on back.” He said guiding you to his station he brought out a sheet of tracing paper and copied the feather outline he laid over the picture and nodded, “I can do this. Should be simple, shift it around a bit.” After wetting his lips he asked, “I was wondering if I might be able to see what your uv markers are?”

You nodded and into the back piercing room for privacy you went at his offer and shrugged an arm out of your shirt bunching your shirt out of the way for him to see the dots and dashes coating your upper left bicep over your shoulder to a section over your shoulder blade. The markers roughly done had left visible white scars evident of your struggle in the painful stamping machine that inflicted them before you were thrown back into a cage to be air dropped onto that island. Mostly faded now but with the bright few in the creases and spots hard to be worn down by friction with clothes or sun exposure his jaw dropped seeing the remainder of the runes used to identify you for your prisoner’s code.

“Is it bad?” You asked in his silence while he made another trip over your markers with the uv light in his hand.

“No, it actually could be something quite easily covered, any ideas?”

“I was thinking maybe uv birds or floating feathers and bubbles maybe, small ones?”

With a grin he pulled over a piece of tracing paper he laid over your shoulder he marked exactly where the markers were and the shape of the skin to be covered saying, “I think that would be lovely. I will do my very best to make it as delicate a process as possible.”

“I can handle the pain.”

“I realize that my dear, though some of these spots will need some extra attention, I don’t want to hurt these scars any more than necessary.”

“Dwalin said it best to wait a week, would that be too soon?”

Bilbo shook his head, “Not at all. My Saturday is free if you wanted to come by then and keep Sunday to rest up.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Curiously you looked him over and asked, “How’d you and Dwalin meet?”

Bilbo smirked saying, “He saw me in the shop and came by one day asking for ladybugs on his finger to break the silence. Ended up with a bracelet and left a rewards card for his shop. It had a catchy slogan and I popped by. Pitifully bashful back then the big mug. Just couldn’t resist tormenting him.” Curiously he looked you over, “A pass time you seem to enjoy as well.”

Softly you giggled seeing him lining up the feather tattoo on the same sketch sheet after marking the size and slant needed to trail just below your collar bone, “Can’t help it. He just flounders, usually I’m ignored.” You said adding you arm through your sleeve again catching his stolen glance at the pair of belly button rings you had, one under and the other over marking the Elven tradition of marking the entrance into womanhood. “Though lately he seems more interested to find out what I do on my shift at the hotel.”

“Ah, yes I did hear that.” Making you giggle again.

“How early do they open?” His brow inched up, “Thought I might bother them for an early morning cup for my first job, it seems I can’t find my kettle.”

To himself he chuckled and replied, “They get in around three most days.”

“And they complain I don’t sleep.”

He chuckled again, “Well they do split the days with their evening staff. Either way they’ll let you in.”

The bell sounded and out again into the storm you went allowing him to get onto the next person’s idea for a possible tattoo. Back home you went and starting in your study you opened our first trunk eyeing the shelves you pulled scattered items off of to disperse through the house. Your arm chair was alone in the sitting room and the table usually with it in the dining room. Around the atrium you hung paintings and sketches with your piano in the center of it.

The books were left in their usual places and the trunks stacked to your usual liking to keep your system in place. Inside your closet the items to remain in cubbies were shifted to the section below a tall hanging cutout and your few pairs of shoes added to the shelves while you would have to wait on the rest until you got hangers to set up the rest in whatever order you wanted. All the trunks were checked twice and with a grumble you wondered where your kettle had gone to. Mid lunch break after signing up for a slew of decorating magazines you switched browsers from kettle shopping back to your show you were watching and settled in for a semi relaxing day at your new home until you would call it a night.

.

With a huff and a pout you eyed the empty tin holding your last packet of cider you pocketed in your jeans under the back panel of your mid thigh reaching grey sweater that ties over the bust. Pocketing your phone you grinned again remembering the elated response to the video you sent to your family in Lindon on a tour of your home and had mentioned your new promotion. It only took three centuries but things were finally looking up.

Reusable mug in hand you grabbed your umbrella, shouldered your bag and headed out a bit early to add on your detour with a nice cushion for time to possibly make your grump blush if he was there. On and off the rain came down around your sizable umbrella all the way to the dimly lit shop. Behind the counter Balin spotted you and called for Dwalin, who hurried over from wiping down the stools and tables to unlock and hold the door open for you.

“Hey,” you said earning a grin from the mohawked Dwarf as you closed and put up your umbrella, “Thanks, Bilbo said you wouldn’t mind.”

Dwalin, “Bilbo was right.”

Thorin begins the counter asked, “He said you wanted hot water?”

You nodded holding your mug you set on the counter he smirked easing the holographic swimming duck coated mug closer to him until he saw the packet you pulled out of your pocket. “My last one, and I seem to have lost my kettle. I could use a pot but Kuu always comes out when I do, because I have to boil peas for him when I cook using them and I’m low on peas..” accepting the packet he flung it over his shoulder, “Hey..”

“We have cider here. Much better than that stuff.”

“And just where does it say that?”

He turned pointing at the salmon coated section on the last menu board, “Cider, which variation did you want?”

“Caramel? Do you have caramel?”

His brow inched up and he asked, “Can you read Khuzdul and Hobbitish?”

“I can. I could put a toaster into orbit if I wished I’ve five math and engineering degrees but I can’t understand what sort of, language, all that is. Never could. Just go for coffee and it’s fifty questions. Something hot, in a cup.”

Unable to help it he turned lifting your mug, “Caramel cider coming up.”

“Oh,” he paused and you said, “No whipped cream. Please.”

He nodded and turned again prepping the drink asking, “What type of kettle did you have? We might be able to get you a good price on a new model. We got a guy.”

“Um, blue.” He glanced at you and you said, “Got it at a rummage sale. Talked him down to half off cuz it didn’t have a lid or handle.”

Dwalin, Balin and Thorin turned to look at you as the first asked in a lean on the counter beside you, “And just how did you use the kettle without a handle or lid?”

“Not very well it seems now that it’s taken off on me. Had to fashion a set of tongs, had a lip at the top and I got this decorative metal plate I put over the top but if I left it too long it would fly off. So I usually only got lukewarm water unless I was up to playing hot potato.”

Lowly Dwalin chuckled turning away faking a clearing of his throat to hide the reaction and Thorin said, “I’ll find you a decent kettle.”

“You don’t-,”

Balin, “Consider it a housewarming gift, from all of us.”

Thorin walked over with your mug he added the lid to on the walk over he set down, “Plus, then you can study up on your teas.”

“Which box should I start with then?” You asked passing the bills over.

“Box?” He replied.

And you nodded, “Of tea, at the store, they sell them in boxes with cute little bags inside.” You giggled out brushing your hair behind your ear as his hand folded around the bill in the clenching of his fist through a twitch of his brow.

“You don’t buy tea at the store.”

“Then what are they selling in those bags?”

“Not real tea!” He fired back, “I will get you some tea, real tea! None of that poster child pretend groundings they sell by the barrel!”

You nodded and said after a glance at the clock, “Well I will see you later. People get a bit reckless in the rain, have to go dodge some cars on the way to the station. Thank you again.”

Back to the door you went as Balin and Dwalin called out, “No problem, come by anytime.”

Dwalin poked Thorin’s shoulder making him snap back to consciousness and call out as you exited the door, “Yes, you should always come first.” The door shut but not in time to block of your bubbling giggles while Dwalin and Balin began to taper off into sputtering laughs while Thorin rested his forehead on his arms crossed on the counter, “First thing, first, thing, one word. Ugh..”

Dwalin patted his back and continued on to work saying, “Least now you know you have a way in.”

Thorin’s head lifted up, “Making an ass of myself?”

Dwalin pointed at the board, “Lass needs to learn the brew. If she’s tied to you-,”

Rolling his eyes he sighed out, “She’s not tied to me.”

Balin gave a final few chuckles adding his two cents, “Thorin, she came here for hot water. No doubt her station she works at has functioning coffee makers.”

Thorin’s mouth opened, “I-,” sharply he exhaled then added, “Did not think of that.”

Balin, “Now we just have to double check the batteries in the radio...” he muttered on his way to the back.

Dwalin followed after, “Bought more yesterday.” Though lost to his thoughts Thorin got to browsing on his phone as to what style of kettle you might like. Deciding on a simple one like his at home, a blue and white checkered one with a large handle above the crystal topped lid. The more he tried to focus on getting ready he just couldn’t and was lost to wondering how every day could be split up into a new lesson for you expanding your time together.

*

“Today is a bit different, no longer up at the Misty Mountains, it’s me Bunny bringing you straight out to the Villa Esquiyemme out here in the unreachable abode of Duke Troublen. Now I know you are asking me what I am doing out here in the middle of a sea of snow when it is perfectly blustery back in Erebor, well the issue comes with the fact that my guest today is not my guest but in fact my host. Who just happens to be on house arrest and I am currently talking into my purse where all of you are hiding in on this conversation, so if you happen to find my pen do nudge it out for me because I love my Twiggy and I miss it dearly.”

From the booth Mal sat back in her chair grinning behind her propped up hand with a finger tapping her upper lip waiting for her cue. You had warned her today would be different and it certainly was. An espionage interview with muffling effects thanks to a handkerchief you laid over your mic with lifesavers and a brush you would occasionally brush across the desk to remind people that they were hiding inside your purse.

For the first hour muffled banter bled into a full scale argument being rehashed while the Duke had shared how he had landed into this dilemma. The first hour break for commercial came in a faked making of popcorn while you raced to the bathroom. And once back the sound cut back on right in the middle of the Countess, named as the Duke’s mother in law, having forced you into the corner playing an old record. Shushing you to boot allowing you to turn off your mic for a few calming mouth exercises for relieving your mouth from the tongue twisting stretch of dialog you had just read off.

Piano music softly played and lost in the sea of things Dwalin’s finger pressed to his lips silencing the woman blabbering on to her friend who loudly shushed her as well to hear the soft melody beginning on the piano. A soft song of devotion played through the air waves and everyone felt the hair on their arms rising along with tiny bumps at the ethereal voice of the host being played on record from sort of performance centuries prior enamoring they even more for their anonymous confidante.

On the other side of the glass Mal held up a page asking, ‘Is this you?!’

Replying back on another sheet your page read, ‘My sisters made me swear to play it this week.’

Her grin deepened and you rolled your eyes. Readying to pick up again switching on your mic you covered again to hit your hand on the desk knocking over a cup of pens causing a clatter stirring up a jumble of an argument melting into your being caught in the arrival of the Duke’s mistress.

And just when that was getting juicy you cut off he mic again and signaled Mal to play your intro music making everyone listening in sit up wide eyed confused if it was over only to hear you again, “Hey Hey, don’t you worry still me Bunny. Ear to the ground as always for all the juiciest in the lives of our dashing Durin boys. Now that you’ve all climbed out of my purse we are back to the Misty Mountains not under a sprinkle but a deluge against my prediction on the forecast. Anyways still mourning my dearest missing flamingo pen Twiggy we are back again with the impregnable force that is Frenn and his dearest Adrianna. And if I have this right we should be marking down days for a bassinet search, shouldn’t we?”

He deep baritone voice crooning out to the airwaves making people nearly vibrate with excitement at how juicy their plot line was getting. Clues had set the show as based decades prior by the ‘current events’ being a war or film release from that time but no one gave a damn at all soaking in every word.

On the other side of the glass wall you caught Ecthellion and Glorfindel watching with grins partially hidden behind their raised fists to help contain their reactions all the way through their sign off. Into the hall you went once your book and empty mug was back in your bag. Flashing the pair of them a grin, “So, still good?”

Ecthellion chuckled, “More than good.”

You gave an excited pitifully withheld squeak in a bounce on your toes and your gaze shifted to the suddenly approaching Frank, who worked on the other end of this floor. All of five feet the stunner of a portly Dwarf with silver beard tied in bubbles by connected leather tethers ended with bells marking each of his children and a four braid style for his hair pulled into a series of loose braids dangling down the center of his head that swayed from side to side. For a moment his brown eyes were on you and he passed you a note, “Message for you.”

“Thank you,” You said reading the post it he passed you simply reading, ‘Call him tomorrow.’

“Um-,” you said as you looked back up at him again.

With a shrug he said, “That’s all Kristy wrote down.”

Lowly you replied, “We really have to get someone to fill in after Trina goes to the other station.”

Glorfindel, “Other station?”

“Ya, after lunch she goes to the Tulip Tower station.”

Glorfindel’s brows furrowed a moment, “Hmm. We didn’t buy that one. We’ll have to see which she prefers.”

Frank, “Her wife works there. No brainer she’ll choose that one.”

Ecthellion, “We’ll get someone on the desk then. Lily did say she wanted a new position.”

Frank said, “Either way you might want to get a second line just for messages for Bunny’s show, been having some guy calling in for a week now.”

Ecthellion and Glorfindel looked at one another and the former asked, “He leave a name?”

Frank shrugged again, “If he did Kristy didn’t write it down and Trina didn’t either.”

Glorfindel nodded and he said, “We’ll have Lily take down his info and we can look into him.”

Pocketing the note you said, “Well I’m off to go pester a grump. I will leave you to your hiring.”

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed playfully, “Pester a grump, huh? Last time you pestered a grump you nearly ended up engaged out in Gondor.”

“That was a misunderstanding.” Making him chuckle again, “He had no intention of dating me let alone proposing. That was between him and those five bottles of wine he downed. All I did was complement his shirt.”

Ecthellion, “Sure it was, with that smile and sassiness of yours.”

Playfully you replied, “If you’ll excuse me, me and my sass have to get some tea before my next shift.” That made them both chuckle and head out to call Lily to try and get a head start on whoever has been calling the station. Hoping for the best it wasn’t anyone your father had known back to spoil things for you.

*

Fifteen minutes since you sat down Thorin had been ranting about tea, at first trying to explain just what made this day’s selection so special only to delve into the history of how this strain had been planted and farmed for centuries. Smirking at the Dwarf frowning in determination your head rested in your palm and between sips you focused on each spiraling thing he had shared with you until a refocusing blink from Thorin had him taking in your expression. Lowly he cleared his throat and after a woman approached with a request for one of the specials he promptly stood up and walked off. Drink fixed and back again he came to claim your empty mug after staring lost for words a few moments at your grinning self. Blush fixed in place he relented to his embarrassed silence distracted by the next few asking for specials.

The empty table however had the grump growling to himself and while you were off to your train to the hotel he had finished his next few orders and grabbed his coat saying, “I’m going shopping.”

The notion had his cousins smirking, and the finally arrived employee who had gotten their babysitters in line curiously looked the trio over utterly lost. Shrugging it on he made his way out back unlocking his car he eased into and started up to make his way to the shop. Determined as ever he had to make certain to fix this, he had to find a way to get both of his feet out of his mouth. He didn’t mean to rant on about tea. It was an odd profession, but a quarter Hobbit on his mother’s side meant time with Gran Tulip was spent in the Hobbit lands between Erebor and Greenwood. For all the urgings he should be forging or crafting items from wood not staring wide eyed at the tiny blooms he had helped to cultivate.

There was a whole language of flowers and everything flora. Everything alive and growing and so much more incredible than what he had felt forging. With good tilled earth came company and with it more languages to learn. The wrong tea or biscuit could do great insult meaning he had to delve deeper into the uses of a well forged kettle. Most people didn’t care, but with the shop came the sprout sales and the bi-monthly courses on what each brew meant and what to use for any ailment or hormonal deficiency. You could at least read Khuzdul and Hobbitish so that was a good base to start with, as for passion for the subject he hoped you might grow interest in it and possibly accept some sprouts of your own for your spacious greenhouse he tried to not be so insanely jealous over.

Having spent years peeking into Gloin’s collection of virtual tours and simply feeling himself unready to split off from his brother and nephews just yet after having left home with Dwalin. Dis had left when she was engaged and Balin had lived with them until he had gotten married and had a baby on the way to enforce a need to find his own place to start his family in. Somehow Dwalin had eased out of their place in time for Frerin to pop in, the former in a fleeting relationship he had assumed to last leaving him in a small flat of his own able to suit his dating needs of privacy. Dwobbit homes were always his favorite and even with the off pictures for the home you had chosen it always seemed to call to him. Just something about that forest green door beckoning him inside.

“Plenty of room for a roommate,” Gloin had teased on their ride home when his pout appeared at being called away, but he tried not to think of that. He couldn’t dare push that issue with you, just over a week knowing you. Already having forced himself financially and into the process of taking you from one dwelling into a home you never assumed you could have afforded.

What he felt for you even with his family teasing and joking that he should make a move he wasn’t certain. He wanted to know, he wanted to be certain why every interaction with you left him so lost for words. A Dwarf so able to argue the bark off a tree or a stubborn goat off his treasured stump now left baffled on what to say or do when you were around. Tea could very well be the answer, or the finishing blow to his ego. Once again possibly be left speechless after boring you to death in another rant, but it couldn’t have been that. Once parked he sighed palming his keys with his mind running back to that look you had given him, the one that snapped him out of his rant, a peaceful partially awed expression straight at him due to his passionate rant.

Shaking his head he climbed out of his car ignoring the sprinkles on the path inside the building run by a friend of a cousin on his Hobbit side. Between the shelves of pre-ground herbs and tea leaves into the basket he grabbed he settled a healthy amount of tea along with a whale infuser with a double finger hook to pull it out. His last selection was the book of all books concerning tea he treasured his own copy off when he first started out. Just like his the round bodied blue and white checkered kettle with a tall handle and crystal topped lid was added to the basket. Up to the counter he went and it wasn’t till he made it back to his car and turned his head to eye his selection he wondered how he would pass it over to you.

Before work was out of the question so back home he went and over lunch his gaze turned from the pack of sticky notes he’d yet to break into back to the book. With a notepad he made a basic to do list for each variation and left notes added to each section he imagined might need more clarification for you. The large bag that was left by a quarter to midnight he loaded back into his car and took a sleepless night in order to drive to your place. Out front he parked and walked around the car to grab the bag, turning back to pause and flash a grin to your formerly jogging neighbor who had heard a small single woman had moved in.

“Hi.”

“Evening,” the burly Dwarf replied looking him over.

Thorin wet his lips saying, “My cousin helped Miss Pear move in, we all did, and she drops by our tea shop,” he said pulling a card out of his pocket, “Warming gift, some tea and a kettle.” He said showing the curious Dwarf who eased in seeing he wasn’t lying, “Her shift ends in a bit, didn’t want to leave it long.”

The Dwarf nodded and pointed two houses over, “Our home, you can wait it out there, if you had hiding in mind.”

Thorin smirked, “Thank you.” Turning to head down your walk and leave the bag outside your door and turn back to move his car following the jogger back to his house conveniently out of clear sight. The pair of them both anxious to see your return ducked behind the front fence where the jogger asked more questions about his plans and intentions only to fall silent in seeing your path down the crystal lit sidewalk up to your front gate you trotted through with echoes of a soft hum coming from you. The burly jogger memorizing your path to possibly ensure he or one of the other watchmen kept an eye out for you until a vehicle of some sort could be found for you to ensure your safety.

All the same under the faint glow of the crystals lighting your front porch you lifted the bag and a soft giggle was heard in your path through your round door, once unlocked and opened lit more of the contents. Weakly Thorin chuckled and again thanked the jogger, who said he’d be in to try the tea shop sometime with his wife, who was now in the window wondering what her husband and the stranger were up to. Back to his car he went and off home Thorin drove grinning to himself imagining all you would feel or say upon further inspection of your gifts. Off home he went hoping to see you in a few hours perhaps for another helping of cider if you hadn’t yet bought more of that pitiful cider powder you imagined to be enough to power you through your first job after little sleep between jobs.

* Hours prior *

“Something wrong?” Turning your head you grinned at the asking Dam shaking your head.

“No, just spent some time being told the intricacies of tea leaves by the most serious Dwarf on the planet.” Chuckles followed at your own giggle in adjusting the skirt on your uniform over your hot pants it snapped onto to keep in place. A single glance at the mirror on the wall and your top was adjusted next making sure everything was covered but amply accentuated.

“In a good way or was he telling you off?”

You turned to face her tucking your side swept bangs behind your ear and confirming your hair combs connected by beaded strands holding your rolled bun in place, “The best way. Tried to tell me what was in my drink and got swept away. The most incredible grin he’s been hiding behind that scowl of his.”

That rippled giggles through the room of ladies all heading out for their own floors in the building more suited to their own strengths. Even here you were a bit odd but now their post shift meal would have ample gossip to try and imagine what sort of Dwarf you would fall for after so many years of giving no signals of being interested in anyone.

I can usually drink you right off of my mind

But I miss you tonight

I can normally push you right out of my heart

But I'm too tired to fight

Yeah the whole thing begins

And I let you sink into my veins

And I feel the pain like it's new

Everything that we were,

Everything that you said,

Everything that I did and that I couldn't do

Plays through tonight

Tonight your memory burns like a fire

With everyone it grows higher and higher

I can't get over it, I just can't put out this love

I just sit in these flames and pray that you'll come back

Close my eyes tightly, hold on and hope that I'm dreaming

Come wake me up

To yourself you grinned and on your second floor post scrub of a bath in the suite you were mid hum along to the song playing on your mini speaker hooked to your mp3 player. Adding the trash bag from there to your trash bin on your cart you removed your gloves and lifted the vacuum you unwound the chord on and plugged it in to start vacuuming a quadrant of the room. More trash was gathered and around the already made beds you worked through the second of the twin rooms and made your way to the main sitting room where you paused seeing Tili and Dis both entering the room while you wiped down the dining table there.

“Evening.” You squeaked out straightening up and putting the bottle down on your cart you tried to drop your rag onto only to pause cross eyed making the pair smirk seeing you ease the loop on the fraying cloth stuck around your glove clad finger.

When that was dropped you eyed the pair only to see Dis looking you over saying, “No need to stop, merely we have a guest requesting a picture from one of the bedrooms on this floor to confirm it is the same from our website. Bit superstitious on room numbers.”

You smirked and turned to head to the coffee table to scrub that as well while Tili stood in the doorway keeping an eye on you smirking seeing your toe top reach and disgusted scoff at the underwear on the lamp you added to the trash once retrieved with the grabber on your cart. Leaving the gloves on the cart you got to digging in the couch and rolled your eyes pulling out more ‘hidden treasures’ then vacuumed it fully with cushions and spare pillows fluffed and woven throw traded for a fresh one you folded just so and laid it across the back of the couch to picture perfection.

Closing the distance again Dis neared you when you were assembling your cart again to head to the next room, “How do you like your new home?”

In a glance up at her your grin widened, “It’s perfect. I’ve always wanted a Hobbit Style home. And the greenhouse is to die for.”

Dis chuckled as Tili did, the former saying, “Well I know my cousin Gloin has been thrilled to have settled you in a good home.”

“Ah, so you’re the former Durin,” her brow inched up and you said, “Not that-, he mentioned a relative married into the Findis clan. Eyes should have probably given it away.” After a moment in her smirk at your momentary head tilt you said, “You sort of remind me of this driver I met.”

Tili giggled out, “Frerin?” You glanced at her and nodded, “Her baby brother.”

“Ah,”

Tili, “Do you have family?”

“In Lindon, my Naneth and her husband have two girls. Just nearly in school.”

Dis, “Your parents are divorced?”

“They weren’t married. It’s sort of, complicated.” In the awkward silence you said, “Congratulations, more babies!” The grin splitting across your face stirred one on hers.

Dis, “Thank you. Do you have children?”

Your brows inched up, “No, but I have birds. Which I realize aren’t the same as children. But they are alive and thriving so points in my favor.” That made Tili shift to be behind you a moment fighting back her body’s urge to giggle.

Tili, “Yes it is. Any partners?”

You shook your head, “No, up till last week it wouldn’t have been fair time or fund wise to be with anyone.”

Dis in her try to be subtle asked, “Anyone spark your fancy to possibly try with?”

“Um, I think it’d probably be best to leave fancying to the guys, I tend to get a bit, hard to explain. Get a bit too wild in my daydreams, I suppose, on how interesting I might be for anyone caught in my sparking.”

Tili waved her hand, “No doubt you’ve tons of sparking fellas after you. We’ve heard you have been enjoying stops in at the Brew and Grew to see the guys?”

“Ya, it’s been, life changing, to say the least.” You chuckled out, “Plus it seems I’ve been lied to my entire life and stores do not in fact sell tea in tea bags.”

Dis chuckled, “Ah, Thorin brought that up?”

“Yes. Apparently is set on buying me a kettle to replace my lost one, and is determined to educate me on tea.”

Tili, “If you want out of it just bring up corn variations and that’ll spark up Balin and they’ll give you a chance to run for it.”

You shook your head in a brow raising giggle from you, “I think it’s sweet. Hard to find what you’re really passionate of, too many people try to flee it can be deflating. I do like tea, and learning things. If he is up to issue the challenge I will call him on it and see who wins out on top in determination.” A call had them heading back down and leaving you back to your work, you giggling at your own reminders of the giant grump while the pair in the lift giggled themselves at a worthy opponent for Thorin’s unending joy from the tiny sprouts and herbs.

Pt 8

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shesakillerkween

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​, @jotink78​, @pastelhexmaniac

[a-corndog-named-schibbs]

Fangs, Fur, and Phantoms - Chapter 1

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IT’S FINALLY READY!

Y’all, I’ve been wanting to write a multi-chapter fic of the fangs and fur au since forever.  I’ve been working on this for months and I’m so excited to share it with you!

Fic contains Klance, Hidge, and (mostly) platonic Shallura.  The Hidge content is in later chapters, but it is coming, I promise.

Let the spooky fun begin!

Lance was pretty sure his boyfriend was a black hole.

Keith had invited Lance over to join his family for dinner and during that dinner he had managed to consume three whole steaks and a mountain of pasta salad and still went back to the fridge to retrieve some leftover meatloaf.

Lance shook his head, taking a sip of his blood pouch, which Keith’s mom had been kind enough to procure for him so that he would have something to eat at dinner, “Where does it all go?”

Keith swallowed the bite he was working on, “Would you rather I be hungry during the pack run and try to take a chunk out of your arm?”

Lance shrugged, “It’s not like it wouldn’t grow back.  Accelerated healing, remember?”

“Accelerated healing or not,” said Krolia, sitting diagonally from Lance and finishing off her own steak, “we don’t want to act too aggressive during the pack run.  The more we eat now, the more in control we’ll be once the moon rises.”

“Besides,” Keith’s adopted sister, Romelle, piped up from the other end of the table, “it’s a good way to get rid of those leftovers sitting in the fridge.”

Lance finished the last of his blood pouch, “Well, it was very kind of you to invite me over tonight, Krolia.  Do you need any help with the dishes?”

“No, that’s fine, Lance,” said Krolia, gathering up the plates, “You’re a guest here and you didn’t even dirty any of them.  Besides, I know Keith will help me with the dishes, won’t you, Keith?”  She tapped the leg of Keith’s chair with her foot and nodded toward the kitchen.  Keith rolled his eyes, but got up and followed her anyway.  As they exited the dining room, Lance heard Krolia whisper, “He’s such a gentleman!  Where did you find him?”

Lance turned toward Romelle, “So…how does this work?  Because I’m pretty fast, but I don’t think I’m, like, wolf levels of fast.  I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with everybody.”

Romelle smiled, “You’ll see.  If I can participate in a pack run, so can you.”

“Well, I’ll take your word for it.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang and Romelle’s pointed ears pricked up.  “Mom, they’re here!” she called through the kitchen door.

“Can you get it, Romelle?  My hands are full.”

Romelle grinned and tugged on Lance’s sleeve, “Come on, it’s time for you to meet everyone.”

She led Lance into the foyer and opened the front door and before Lance could blink, the small hallway seemed to be filled with dozens and dozens of werewolves, all chatting and greeting Romelle warmly and lining up to shake Lance’s hand while he desperately tried to remember all their names.  The one with the sideburns was Thace and the one with the mohawk was Ulaz and the one built like a tank was Antok or was it Regris?  He knew he should have gotten Keith to make him a cheat sheet.

Finally, a white-haired man stepped through the doorway, one of the largest werewolves in the room and definitely the oldest by several years.  He carried himself with the authority of a general.

“Are we all here?” he asked, looking around at the others, “Remember, less than half an hour until moonrise, so if you haven’t eaten yet, do so now.”  He turned and noticed Lance for the first time, “Who’s this?”

His gaze made Lance squirm, “I, uh…I’m Keith’s…um…”

“He’s my mate,” Lance felt Keith come up behind him and put an arm around his waist, instantly calming his nerves, “You’ve all introduced yourselves to Lance, right?  He’s going to be joining us for the pack run tonight.”

“That’s right,” said Krolia, walking into the room and wiping her hands on a dishrag, “so I expect all of you to be on your best behavior around him.”

Kolivan raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure about this, Krolia?  Pack runs can be dangerous to non-wolves.”

“He’s fine,” said Krolia, “He’s a vampire.  He won’t even get a scratch.”

Murmurs rose from the group assembled, with the word “vampire” standing out most clearly.  Lance winced.  Historically speaking, werewolves and vampires had not always gotten along.

“That…seems fine, then,” said Kolivan, “We’ll assemble outside.  If you brought any snacks, eat them now.”

“Come on,” said Keith, tugging Lance towards the kitchen where the backdoor was.  As they walked away, Lance couldn’t help overhearing Kolivan whispering to Krolia.

“Next time, I wish you’d consult me before inviting a non-wolf to the pack run.”

“You’ve never objected to Romelle joining the pack run.”

“Adopting an changeling into the pack is one thing.  Having a vampire as the future alpha-mate is—“

“You don’t even know if Keith wants to be the alpha someday!  I might name someone else as my beta.”

“Keith is your oldest child and a strong wolf in his own right.  We both know he’d be a great leader some day.  You and he need to think about what’s best for the pack.”

Krolia growled, “You were just like this when I introduced Tex to the pack.”

Keith was apparently eavesdropping too, because he pulled Lance closer as they stepped into the backyard, “Don’t listen to them.  Kolivan’s all hot air, he’ll warm up to you.  He did to my dad.”

“Is what Kolivan said true?  Are you really going to be alpha someday?”

Keith avoided eye contact, “It…would make sense.  Everyone knows Krolia’s going to be alpha once Kolivan steps down, but we haven’t really…talked about it.”

Lance wanted to ask more questions, but the moon was beginning to rise and Keith and the others were beginning to transform.  Keith started to remove his clothes so they wouldn’t be ripped and Lance averted his eyes for decency’s sake.  While he didn’t look, he heard Keith groaning and breathing heavily as he shifted.  There were medications a werewolf could take to make the transition less painful, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still uncomfortable.  When Lance turned back, his boyfriend’s human form was gone and in its place was a powerful creature, indistinguishable from a normal wolf except for slightly longer and more muscular forelegs and the fact that it was much, much bigger.

“You still you, babe?” said Lance.

The wolf panted, a silly grin on its face.

“I take it you’ll be riding with Keith?” said Romelle, the only other person in the backyard who still looked humanoid.

“Riding?”

Romelle nodded and approached a wolf with thick gray fur and dark markings around her face, who Lance recognized as Krolia, and swung herself up onto the wolf’s back.

“Seriously?  This is gonna be awesome!”

Lance clambered up onto Keith’s back, reveling in the feeling of his soft, black fur against Lance’s hands.

“Let me know if I pull too hard, okay?”

Keith barked once.

Across the yard, a large, white wolf howled to get the others’ attention and loped toward the back gate and out into the woods behind the house.  Lance yelped as Keith and the other wolves bounded forward to follow their leader.

Soon Lance found himself flying through the forest, trees whipping past him and Keith as they rushed forward.  They were on the far left of the group, which seemed to be splitting up into smaller hunting parties.  Keith stayed close to Krolia and Romelle, the four of them forming their own hunting party.

Lance turned toward Romelle, “I feel like Princess Mononoke!”

“Nice, isn’t it?” Romelle yelled back.

Lance would have answered in agreement, when an unpleasant smell hit his nose.  Blood, stagnant blood that had been spilled hours ago and some other scent too, something he couldn’t place, yet made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Smell that, babe?” he said into Keith’s ear.

Keith huffed and changed course, following the new scent with Krolia close at his heels.

They didn’t see the dead body until they had nearly tripped over it.

***

Temptation, despite the name, was considered one of the classiest bars in the city.  Shiro almost felt bad about causing a scene there.

But not bad enough to reconsider it.

That evening, he and his partner, Allura, stepped out of the black sedan their organization had issued them and walked toward the entrance of the club.  The car, chosen to appear average and nondescript, now looked dingy and plain next to the sports cars and classic vehicles belonging to the bar’s other patrons.

Typical PBI, Shiro thought, Couldn’t they have sprung for a nicer car just this once?

“Think this is the right place?” Allura asked.

Shiro looked up at the purple neon sign, the word “Temptation” written in cursive and accompanied by the neon outline of a woman with devil horns.

“I’m pretty sure.”

The two agents approached the entrance, where an exceptionally buff woman with short hair was waiting with a metal detector.  As expected, the detector went off within two seconds of being waved near Shiro.

“What is this?” the woman said, pointing to Shiro’s arm.

“It’s a prosthetic.” said Shiro.

“You’ll need to leave it here.”

“Are you serious?”

“You could be concealing a weapon in there.”

“Listen—“

But Shiro was interrupted by another woman approaching them, clad in a black cocktail dress, her dark hair pulled away from her face.

“It’s all right, Zethrid,” she said, placing a hand on the buff woman’s shoulder “I can vouch for these two.  If you’ll follow me, please…”

Shiro and Allura followed her into the bar.  The place was tastefully decorated in black, silver, and various shades of purple.  A stage dominated the back wall, where a woman in a high ponytail and a red evening dress crooned seductively into her microphone.  The woman in the cocktail dress led the two of them to a booth in the corner.

“Anything I can get you two to start out?” the woman asked.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” said Allura.

“A ginger ale,” said Shiro.

The woman raised an eyebrow.

“I’m our ride home.”

“This is a lovely establishment you have here,” Allura added quickly.

“Yes, Lotor takes great pride in his business.”

“I don’t suppose he’s in tonight?” said Shiro, “We’d love to meet him.”

“I’ll see if he’s around,” the woman said, “And I’ll have those drinks to you right away.”

As she walked away, Allura leaned in, “Ginger ale?  Really?  There goes our air of mystery.”

“Drunk driving’s illegal, Allura.  I’m not taking any chances.”

“You’re really leaning into the straight-laced agent persona, huh?” said Allura.  She leaned back, “Think our server is Acxa?”

“I certainly hope so, or this is going to be a real short visit.”

A few minutes later, the woman returned with two drinks and a man in a well-tailored suit and long platinum-blond hair.

“I was told you wished to speak with me, Mr…?”

“Shirogane.” said Shiro, “And this is Miss Prince.  I take it you’re Lotor.”

“The one and only,” said Lotor, sliding into the booth, “How can I help you two?”

“We think we might have a mutual friend with you,” said Allura, reaching into her clutch purse and pulling out her phone.  She pulled up a photograph on it, “Do you recognize this woman?”

Lotor looked at the phone and frowned, “Can’t say I’ve ever seen her.”

“Strange.  Well…” Allura slid to the next picture, “What about this woman?”

“Don’t recognize her.”

“Or this man?”

“Never met him.”

“That’s funny.  They all seem to have met you.”

Lotor raised an eyebrow, “And where do they say they know me from?”

“Well, they all seem to be under the impression that you forced them to hand over a large sum of money,” said Shiro.

“Did they?  And how do they say I managed to do that?”

“By seducing and hypnotizing them into complying with your demands.”

“Hypnotizing?” Lotor scoffed, “Next you’re going to accuse me of putting a magic spell on them.  Be reasonable, Mr. Shirogane, we’re all adults here.  How could I possibly hypnotize someone into giving me money?  It’s not humanly possible.”

“You’re right, it’s not possible.  For a human.”

Lotor rolled his eyes, “I assure you, Mr. Shirogane, I am entirely human.”

“Then this shouldn’t hurt at all.”

Shiro reached into his waistband and pulled out a small green water pistol, spraying Lotor full in the face.  Lotor leaned back abruptly, screaming in pain, steam rising from his face where some nasty boils were beginning to form.

“He’s the real deal,” said Shiro, “Call them in.”

It took Allura only a few taps on her phone before the doors of the bar burst open and three men in black suits barged in, immediately spotting Shiro and Allura at their booth with Lotor.  Two of the men grabbed Lotor by the arms and handcuffed him while the third trained a Super Soaker at him.

As the men were carting Lotor away, the woman in the cocktail dress approached their booth.

“I thought he’d go down with more of a fight.  I’m Acxa, by the way.”

“Agents Shirogane and Prince,” said Allura, “It’s the holy water.  Works like a charm.  You’re the woman who called in the tip, aren’t you?  How did you know that man was an incubus?”

Acxa shrugged, “I went to his office to ask for a raise.  I left the office under the impression that the last thing in the world I wanted was a raise.  It wasn’t until I got home that I realized I had no memory of the actual conversation.”

“Good instincts,” said Shiro, just as his phone began to ring, “Excuse me one moment.”

He checked the ID on his phone.

“Iverson?” asked Allura.

“Must be important if he’s calling us on a job,” said Shiro.  He accepted the call, “Yes, sir?”

“Wrapped up the incubus case yet, agent?”

“Just about.  We still need to debrief, but otherwise we’re done.”

“Well, you and Agent Prince had better come in as soon as possible.  We just got a new case.  You’re really going to want to see this.”

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

So I recently got send some wonderful books by a wonderful person (I got 2, yay!) and since it’s been brought to my attention that every writer loves some feedback, here are my thoughts about: Mark Cooper Versus America.

(And the gushing starts in 3, 2, 1…)

I finished this in 3 nights! Three!!

Oh this is such a wonderfully written, lovely book. First of all, whoever came up with the phrase “angry bunny” deserves a free drink of their choice. It described Mark so very well and always got a giggle out of me.

Also, fanfics have ruined me. Listen, you could’ve told me that Jackson was a 2 ft red-headed long lost Weasley or a chubby asian american with a green mohawk and I still would’ve just pictured Colton Haynes. But it actually worked in Jacksons favour to picture Colton Haynes. (More on the Deacon/Deaton confusion later.)

Oh and Brandon, poor little Brandon. You give a guy a bad past, an eidetic memory and a need to proove himself and my Suits loving heart melted like butter. (Yes, I’ve seen that there’s a sequel. I’m rooting for Brandon to find his Harvey. The 0.1 people in the Suits fandom’ll understand.)

Ooh, but those cliffhangers, those evil, evil cliffhangers. When you kept talking up “the basement” and then when the chapter ends on the basement and the next one begins in a diffrent pov? This might be the first time I booed at a book! (Also might be why I finished in 3 nights, hmm.)

And sweet, little Blake. He became my personal Ox Bellows (nobody will get that reference, ha!). Oh, I wasn’t sure about him at first but then I just wanted to coo at him (and help with those pesky bathrooms, lol).

Speaking of, as a non-american. (Tach auch!) I really enjoyed seeing the USA and fraternity culture out of Marks perspective. When he first ordered that drink, I too had totally forgotten about the 21 rule. And, just like Mark, I also only knew fraternities from movies (mainly Animal House and Revenge Of The Nerds, that kinda dates me, doesn’t it?). So I loved seeing him be just as confused and weirded out by all of it like I probably would’ve been. (If there ever existed a frat that just plays Risk all night, I hope they are doing well and have plenty of pledges.)

And of course the sex scenes! OMG I will never look at a mechanical bull the same. Going on the road of discovery along with Deacon and Mark was really great. It never felt rushed but more like a natural progression. (And hey, another thing that almost never happens in fic. You mentioned a douche. And it worked very well with the plot (I almost unintentionally wrote flowed, lol) and somehow made it all feel more grounded.)

And last but certainly not least Deacon. So half way through the book I finally gave up on separating Deacon and Deaton and just head canoned a tragic backstory for Deaton, where he found the love of his life in college, had to go back to BH and is trying to get back to his lost love asap. That’s why he’s so shady, he wants his bunny back.

All in all I really loved this book. (Kudos also to J.A., idk who wrote what or how, but I if can only contact one of you, can you forward the gushing.)

If I had to ciritc something. Well. It ended!? What do you mean it ended!? But what about next year? And the Alphas? Did they get a new leader? What about Marks major? What when Deacon graduates? What about Deacons family? Or Marks? How could you end it already?

Ahem.

All of this to say. If Disco does a giveaway. Enter. You wont be disapointed. I’m playing along in the new one for certain. (Hey, you never know, maybe I get lucky twice.)

Thank you again Disco (and hope I didn’t overdo it).

S

DW: Aw, thank you so much! JA and I had so much fun writing that book--and it all started from us arguing about American vs Australian English! Who’d have thought we’d get a whole book out of it? :) 

And as soon s we get organised we’re going to get back to writing the third book in the series, where Mark is having a hard time with Deacon having graduated! 

[eliashiebert]

Instrumental Soul

Rolled by: Me For: A., J., D. and the rest Late Summer 2018 TRT: 1h19m21s

There are a few instrumentals I’ve been putting on evry tape for years…Bar-Kays’ “Knucklehead”, Kool & The Gang’s “Street Corner Symphony” and Ike Turner’s “Funky Mule”.  For awhile I’ve been thinking about a mixtape of all instrumentals.  Normally I like making tapes that go off in all directions.  I don’t usually do themes, altho I think of a lot of them.  I have almost never done a tape of tunes from mostly just one genre.  I like this one a lot tho.  Maybe I’ll do more.  Settle down a bit, stop childishly trying to impress you with my hard lefts & flying leaps. 

Once I finally started, this tape came together super-quick.  It wasnt hard to find another hour of funky jazzy soul-ey instrumental toons.  I assumed, as you might, confronted with a mix calld Instrumental Soul, I’d eventually get around to some Booker T. and the M.G.’s.  Somehow, tho, they are not here…but their influence is defnilly present. 

I usually try to make my mixes fit on an old-school 74-minute ceedee…you know, just like the 9th Symphony.  I like to use the most restrictive definition, even tho I’ll ultimately be dumping it onto an 80-minute CDR.  Or, these days I’d as soon keep it as file, but my friends they all still like getting the “physical” disk, don’t ask me why.  Anyway, this is all to say I broke that rule this time around.  I already weeded out a bunch of stuff I wanted to put in to get it under the 80 minute mark (yes I’m already planning a Part 2), and I didnt want to lose any more. 

Another thing I did different with this one is give the songs some room to breathe with a couple seconds of silence between each one instead of running them all together like I usually do. 

Here we go…. 

Roger & the Gypsies “Pass The Hatchet Pt. 1” Seven B 7001 (1966)

Happy hypnotic groover from New Orleans funkmaster Eddie Bo, a dude with really excellent hair.  Like a lot of what’s on here, he came to my attention originally thru Funky16Corners.  The original 45 costs mad cheddar but it’s on lotsa collections…various little indie N.O. funk comps and even the Desperado soundtrack.  I took it from Mojo’s “Southern Soul” disc.  I don’t think it’s on any of the main Eddie Bo collections, Funky Delicacies’ Funky Funky New Orleans or Vampisoul’s In The Pocket with Eddie Bo or etc.  It’d be nice if there were something truly comprehensive out there, but ya know. 

The J.B.’s “Pass The Peas” From Food For Thought (People 1972)

Maybe part of the reason the JB’s have been looped so often is that they sound like a loop to begin with.  No one can lock like they could.  Long solo from leader Fred Wesley…I love a good trombone solo, but the player has to have a fabulous tone and mad technique, both which of course the legendary Fred Wesley has by the bucketful.  What he doesnt have is the vocabulary of a jazz player—it’s pure funksoul; it stays inside its box.  You might find that a little repetitious after some 36 bars but I don’t care I don’t care.  Some organ in the background from the Creator himself.  I playfully referred to the instrument as the “pipes,” as in, “Is that James Brown on the pipes?” and Jen would not have it.  “It’s a Hammond organ!” she yelled, “There’s no pipes!!” 

Some of my sources for this tape are vintage elpees and some, like this one, are slightly suspect vinyl re-issues.  They look good but questions like Are they properly licensed? and Were they mastered from the original tapes or some inferior copy? are anyone’s guess.  I don’t know, it sounds good to me.  That’s how a lot of this type of material is available these days.  Many of these albums never got any official re-issues, digital or analog.  You can’t be too picky unless you want to lay out for first pressings. 

Dizzy Gillespie “Matrix” From The Real Thing (Perception 1970)

The jazz legend (is legend a strong enuf word?) ’s soul-flavord The Real Thing album gets my highest recommendation.  A heat rock if ever there was one.  You wanna hear Dizzy Gillespie and his fine collaborators blow over hard beats from a funky rhythm section?  Yes you do. 

Eddie Harris “Listen Here” From The Electrifying Eddie Harris (Atlantic 1968)

Some cool elevator jazz from the electric saxophonist once referenced in a Beastie Boys hit.  Is it fair to call it elevator music?  Does that term even mean anything other than an offhand dis?  When I say it, I’m talking about something specific, at least in my own head.  Elevator music, like disco, is something I wasnt supposed to like but which I now have a growing appreciation for.  Maybe I shud make a tape of all elevator music, like the stuff I used to hear at Kohl’s when I was a kid.  Maybe I’ll make it for my friend J. who likes to listen to the smooth jazz station when he’s hungover. 

This tune evokes a train moving underground, and it might inject some joy in yer commute if you put it in your headphones. 

J. C. Davis “A New Day (Is Here At Last)” New Day 1373 (1969), remixed and re-issued on A New Day! The Complete Mus-I-Col Recordings Of J. C. Davis (Cali-Tex 2005)

My brother A. put me on to this dude.  The saxophonist and bandleader (not to be confused with the other J. C. Davis who played guitar with Hank Ballard and the Midnighters) backed James Brown in the early 60s and around ’69 released a few singles on his own label.  Around ’05, Josh Davis AKA DJ Shadow went back to the studio in Columbus, Ohio, where those records were made and he remixed them “on the original mix board” because he’s the king of the nerds.  That irresistible smooth, slightly edgy sax sound crooning over haaard mutherfuckin drums begging to be sampled—and they have been!—with that cool 60s chickenwing funk guitar & organ. 

Tom Scott and the L.A. Express “Sneakin’ In The Back” Originally from their self-titled album (Ode/Epic 1974), later appearing on volume whatever of the Ultimate Breaks ’n’ beats (Street Beat 1990)

A little misterioso now.  This smoothie I got from my bootleg version of Lenny Roberts & Lou Flores’ collection of evry essential breakbeat ever.  No doubt Tom Scott & the L.A. Express would find their way to my elevator music tape too. 

Willie Bobo and the Bo-Gents “Do What You Want to Do” From Do What You Want To Do… (Sussex 1971)

Of course it was Larry who first introduced me to this album.  Try to be unhappy listnin to this sawng.  Try.  Classic example of that East Side salsa n soul I love. 

Freddie Hubbard “Backlash” From Backlash (Atlantic 1967)

Again, a great jazz artist doin’ a record in a funksoul-influenced style.  Freddie Hubbard is one of my favorite trumpet players, and this tune scorches. 

Bar-Kays “Knucklehead” The flip side of “Soul Finger”, Volt 168 (1967)

I bought the Soul Finger album (yet another suspect re-issue) becuz the title track is essential, but this hard hitter is my faverit tune on it.  The B side wins again! 

Dizzy Gillespie “Soul Kiss” From The Real Thing (Perception 1970)

Another tune from The Real Thing, a more frantic one, with kissy noises from the trumpet.  By the way, if you sound like this when you kiss, I’m pretty sure you arnt doing it right. 

The Mohawks “The Champ” Pama PM 719 (1968)

It’s called “Champ” but it sounds more like “tramp” a la Carla Thomas.  The band is doin’ the Booker T., and that screamin organ riff by Alan Hawkshaw (sampled many, many times of course) over top of it is un dee nigh uh bull. 

Zap-Pow “Soul Revival” Jaywax 45 (1974?). Also on the album Revolutionary (Roosevelt 1976?), but most likely to be found on the compilation Funky Kingston: Reggae Dance Floor Grooves 1968–74 (Trojan 2002)

Another gem brought to my attn by Funky16Corners.  Heard it on the blog and had to run out right away and buy the comp just for one song.  Probably the tightest record on here next to the JB’s.  Usually filed as reggae due to its place of origin, but this is str8 funksoul. 

Kool & The Gang “Street Corner Symphony” From Light Of Worlds (De-Lite 1974)

I love it when Kool & The Gang does their fake jazz thing.  Got soul-jazz from both sides of the fence on here.  At the end the sax quotes “My Favorite Things” (a nod to Trane I assume) which always cracks me up. 

Ike Turner & the Kings Of Rhythm “Funky Mule” From A Black Man’s Soul (Pompeii 1969)

Ike & Tina Turner made a lot of really cool records and a lot of mediocre ones (and I wish I knew which was which), and these days they are scattered across a hundred seedy bargain compilation ceedees.  The act has never been anthologized properly, maybe due to Ike’s reputation (which I’m sure is well-deserved…recent attempts to rehabilitate him kind of piss me off…tho also irritating is the popular image of him as a cartoonish monster, mostly due to the movie, which even Tina said didnt happen like that.  Evrybody does good and bad things in their life.  The good things don’t take away the bad things and vice versa, and you can dig music with eyes open to the fact that some of the ones who made it were not cool people).  I pickt up one such random comp choosing it mostly for the title: I Smell Trouble!!! (yes with three exclamation points !).  It included this hard funk instrumental that cracked my head open wit a axe.  It’s one of those songs where they just crammd in evry badass riff they could think of.  Again, hard, hard muthafuckin drums, driving horns growling and belching smoke, funkee geetar, a busy bassline dancing underneath it all.  Wish I knew who the players were but no credits given. 

Dr. Octagon “Bear Witness” From Dr. Octagonecologyst (Bulk 1996)

Dr Octagonecologyst is a goofball boom-bap classic.  I remember hearing Blue Flowers on AMP.  For a while that was the best or one of the only good things on MTV, and it turnd me on to a lot of cool stuff.  This instrumental showcases DJ Q-Bert’s scratching and a bevy of funky breaks.  The sampled battlecry, “Creating rap music ’cause I never dug disco” sure sounds like Chuck D (thanks to some processing) but it’s actually an obsure MC from the 80s called 4-Ever Fresh.  Automator and a supercrew of DJ/producers including Prince Paul & Shadow would revisit this track a few years later on Handsome Boy Modeling School’s equally classic first album. 

James Brown “Spinning Wheel” From Sex Machine (King 1970)

James Brown’s mellow organ version of Blood, Sweat & Tears’ Spinnin Wheel is an unsung classic. 

Bill Doggett “Honky Tonk Pt. 2” King 4950 (1956)

Long ago, my former coworker K. turnd me on to Bill Doggett and this much-coverd happy, handclapping, sax-driven early rocknroll hit.  I took it from this comp. 

Doc Bagby “Crazy Chemistry” Okeh 4-7098 (1958)

My good, good friend M. once gave me, for my birthday maybe, when I was like 20, a big stack of 45s from his own collection.  I still prize them to this day.  This was one.  Demented carnival music with Wurlitzer organ and bouncy guitar. 

The 45 King “Get Funky” On The Lost Breakbeats Volume 1 & 2 (The Yellow Album) (45 King Records 1983)

Super duper beat maker the 45 King.  Lotsa gems on this collection, which I got on bootleg download. 

Hugh Masekela “Grazing In The Grass” From The Promise of a Future (Universal City 1968)

It’s a gas.  The original, instrumental version by South African trumpet player Hugh Masekela.  Only 2 anna half minutes.  Supposedly recorded just to fill time on the album.  Huge hit.  Gotta have more cowbell, more overdriven brass, more POP! 

The Meters “Sophisticated Cissy” Josie 1001 (1968), the band’s first single I think. Also on The Meters

Aww, such a badass slow groove, makes you say “UH!”  KRS-One and Scott LaRock sampled this on “Essays On BDP-ism”, a very cool record made just before Scott LaRock’s death in 1987 and unreleased until 2000.  I’m surpised it hasnt been sampled more.  Great way to come in for the close. 

Ray Charles “Doodlin’” From The Great Ray Charles

Ray Charles and his associates do a sweet version of the Horace Silver tune, with a muted trumpet by John Hunt and tenor sax David Newman.  I was first introduced to Ray Charles’s jazz material and this tune in particular via a tape in my brother’s car he was way into around, oh, twenty years ago.  A tape he got from his friend G. probably.  Ray Charles made a couplefew jazz albums.  Highlights from them appear on this odd artifact, with its yellow cover and monochrome portrait that looks like a zeerox.  With a title like The Best of Ray Charles, you might expect material like “What’d I Say” and “Georgia” rather than 6 instrumental jazz tunes.  Nevertheless it is highly recommended. 

Boom!