#Zani Lam

[reeshahasha]

#stand up

[thedepartmentofdiscoveries]

Jiang-Shi from the 1985 Hong Kong Action Comedy "Mr. Vampire" directed by Ricky Lau.

"If you meet a vampire, don't breathe." This is the sage advice that Master Kau, the Taoist priest played by Lam Ching-ying, gives to his bumbling apprentices, Man-choi (Ricky Hui) and Chau-sang (Chin Siu-ho), in the 1985 Hong Kong action comedy "Mr. Vampire."

Forget everything you know about bloodsuckers; the undead specimens in "Mr. Vampire" are breath-suckers. They have a very deliberate way of hopping with their arms stretched out in front of them, legs also stiff and straight from rigor mortis. In Chinese, these zombie-like revenants are known as the jiangshi; in Japanese, it's kyonshi, while in English, they're sometimes referred to as "Chinese hopping vampires."

Stirred up by the disinterment of a parent who was buried with bad feng shui, the jiangshi of "Mr. Vampire" are a comedic answer to the unsettled ghosts of subsequent Asian horror films like "Ringu" and "The Eye." They're the reanimated corpses of people who died "with grievances or stress," suffocating to death yet holding one last breath in their throat, which enables them to come back and prolong their existence by sinking their sharp blue nails into humans and sucking the breath out of them.

At a certain point, the tropes of Western vampire films lose their power and become cliches we've all seen done to death on celluloid. If you enjoyed the Asian zom-com flavor of "One Cut of the Dead" and are looking for something a little more off the beaten film path, "Mr. Vampire" draws from Chinese folklore to offer a fresh, hilarious take on vampires, one that jumpstarted a whole franchise and jiangshi genre, complete with four sequels and an 8-bit Nintendo video game ("Reigen Doushi," which became "Phantom Fighter" in the U.S.)

Directed by Ricky Lau, "Mr. Vampire" found a way to uproot the undead from European folklore and Eurocentric cinema and make them work within the context of Eastern religions and Asian cultures. How do you make bloodsuckers scary and/or funny for audiences with a background in reincarnation traditions, ancestor worship, and hungry ghosts? For a Buddhist or Taoist, death and rebirth (or "undeath") would be part of a natural cycle, and for a Shintoist, a vampire might elicit sympathy as a tragic figure, trapped between worlds like the spirit of a family member who couldn't find their way back down the lantern river to heaven.

This goes back to Richard Matheson's idea of vampires not fearing crosses if they weren't Christian in life. Drawing from legends known and recognized by other names across East Asia, "Mr. Vampire" and its jiangshi enjoyed further regional popularity outside Hong Kong. Taiwan quickly followed suit with its own kid-friendly hopping vampire film "Hello Dracula," and Japan embraced both movies, making "Mr. Vampire" board games and televising "Hello Dracula" as a popular miniseries, "Yugen Doshi Kyonshizu."

In his essay, "Enter the Dracula: The Silent Screams and Cultural Crossroads of Japanese and Hong Kong Cinema" (collected in the book "Dracula, Vampires, and Other Undead Forms," edited by Caroline Joan Picart and John Edgar Browning), Wayne Stein wrote of how kids in Asia "found themselves with a new likeness to imitate by copying the hopping movements of these zany vampires," the jiangshi. I can confirm that my own spouse and her classmates were among those kids. To them, the hopping vampires of the 1980s were as much fun to emulate as the dancing zombies of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" music video.

To appreciate the full significance of "Mr. Vampire" and its unprecedented local popularity as a homegrown Asian vampire movie, it's helpful to understand that it was not the first eastward voyage of the Demeter, so to speak. An early attempt at combining vampires with martial arts came in 1974 with "The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires," which marked Peter Cushing's final outing as a vampire hunter (and now, guest lecturer in China) Van Helsing in Hammer Horror's Dracula series. The film was an international co-production between Hammer and Hong Kong's biggest production company, Shaw Brothers Studio, which was ready to capitalize on the kung fu success of the late Bruce Lee, whose posthumous hit, "Enter the Dragon," had overtaken theaters the year before.

"The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires" proved to be a financial failure, perhaps in part because — beneath the foreign-market masquerade — its inner workings were still Western and imperialist. At the time, Hong Kong was a crown colony, and the film's opening scene sees Kah (Chan Shen), the Chinese "High Priest of the 7 Golden Vampires," kneel before the very British Dracula (John Forbes-Robertson), asking for his help back home. Dracula tells his "minion" that he doesn't roll like that; he then proceeds to spell out in no uncertain terms how he plans to appropriate Kah's culture. "I need your vile image," he says. "I will take on your mantle, your appearance."

Before the title card comes up, Dracula turns Chinese, using Kah as his host body, cackling at how "beneath the image, the immortal power of Count Dracula" still lurks. "The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires" wore the cape of a Hong Kong vampire film, but "Mr. Vampire" tossed the cape in favor of authentic Chinese burial clothes.

"Mr. Vampire" imparts useful skills for what to do when you're beset by hopping vampires. Forget holy water; you need sticky rice to deal with these things. Just make sure local merchants aren't cheating you by mixing in long-grain rice with the sticky rice. That will render it less effective in preventing the "vampirification" of friends who are wounded and poisoned in the acrobatic scuffle with hopping vampires.

One surefire method of stopping a hopping vampire is to pin a Taoist talisman to its forehead. They can even be controlled and sicced on other vampires this way. Be careful not to sneeze, as this could blow the talisman off, and then you'll be s*** out of luck, as the French say.

If you yourself begin turning into a stiff-legged hopping vampire, keep active! Dance it out the way you would if you suspected you had restless leg syndrome but had never been officially diagnosed.

Mirrors, as we see in "Mr. Vampire," do repel the jiangshi, more forcefully than their Western counterparts even, so you've got that going for you, at least, if you've been weaned on the rules of Western vampire films. It is possible to plug up the nostrils of hopping vampires so they lose the scent of your breathing.

A separate peril of places in the countryside overrun by hopping vampires is the possibility of ghosts with the face of "Pauline" Wong Siu-fung enchanting you and leaving you with "love bites." As vampire attacks mount, the last resort is to try warding them off with raw poultry, saying, "Big brother, eat the chicken!" Good luck, and remember the most important rule of vampire hunting: just have fun with it.

Read More: https://www.slashfilm.com/976576/year-of-the-vampire-hold-your-breath-for-the-hopping-undead-in-mr-vampire/

[zombeesknees]

Hi, I've never seen any Cary Grant movies. Do you have any recommendations on where to start? <3

OH BOY, DO I EVER!

So Cary is, at his core, a Very Handsome Clown.

That first bit is obvious right from the get go, while the second sometimes surprises people -- but the man came from a family of acrobats and vaudeville performers, and he was NEVER afraid to go Full Buffoon in something, thank God.

Which means most of his film career can be boiled down into two primary genres: Screwball Comedy and Handsome Asshole.

In the first, you’ve got (and here’s where my recommendations kick in)

Bringing Up Baby -- Cary is a paleontologist who JUST WANTS AN INTERCOSTAL CLAVICLE FOR HIS BRONTOSAURUS, GOT DAMMIT and yet has to deal with a ROGUE LEOPARD because of ditzy socialite Katharine Hepburn.

The Philadelphia Story -- Cary is a rich dude named C. K. Dexter Haven who’s trying to re-woo his ex-wife, Katharine Hepburn, on the eve of her second wedding, but then reporter Jimmy Stewart’s also there and romantic, drunken shenanigans ensue. (Note: Cary and Katharine did a TON of movies together, all of which were great, and his influence at the studio helped save her movie career when she was deemed “too much trouble/box office poison” by shitty men in Hollywood. For that reason alone he has my undying love and respect.)

Arsenic and Old Lace -- Cary just wants to go on his Halloween honeymoon with his new bride, but it turns out his sweet dear old aunties have been KILLING LONELY OLD MEN as a public service and he’s just found a body in the window seat. Awkward.

His Girl Friday -- Newspaperman Cary tries to convince hotshot reporter (and ex-wife) Rosalind Russell to cover the Execution Story of the Year -- and also to not marry her bland new beau. Things get wild when the condemned man escapes and the whole city goes wild. (Note: This film is extra notable because it’s arguably the first movie to have realistic dialogue where characters frequently speak over and interrupt each other. The patter is FANTASTIC.)

People Will Talk -- World’s Greatest Doctor Cary falls in love with a patient who’s in dire straits due to an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, and also has to face down a committee seeking to destroy his career. (This one’s a bit more melodramatic than screwball, and isn’t talked about near as often as his other films, but it holds a special place in my heart.)

As for the second, you can largely thank Hitchcock because there’s

To Catch A Thief -- Retired Jewel Thief Cary is forced to get back into the game/clear his name when he’s suspected of making off with ladies’ necklaces again. This one co-stars the ever-goddessly Grace Kelly and a really cute red neckerchief.

Notorious -- Cold-as-Ice Spy Cary recruits innocent Ingrid Bergman, the daughter of a Nazi, to infiltrate a group of her father’s old friends who fled to Brazil (one of whom is The Invisible Man himself, Claude Rains). Things get rough in a hurry.

North By Northwest -- Ad Exec (think Mad Men) Cary is mistaken for a spy and goes on the lam. Featuring that infamous crop duster chase across the field, and a fight literally on the face of Mount Rushmore.

Charade -- Widow Audrey Hepburn is pursued by several mysterious men who’re after a fortune her thief husband stole just before he was murdered. Can she trust Cary, or is he just after the money?

Houseboat -- Stoic Widower Cary hires the vivacious Sophia Loren to nanny his three unruly children, and hijinks ensue when the family moves onto a rickety houseboat. (This one is more of a Screwball, but he DOES play a Handsome Asshole/Straight Man in this one.)

So yeah. Any one of these movies would be a good place to start, though I most recommend diving into his screwball comedies first. They’re just so fun and zany and silly, with really superb dialogue and goofy characters.

[iknowyouknow777]

(via https://open.spotify.com/track/1MksGqIztTT6M9R1ErKVs8?si=OJ8iaZGUTFSR9NX0T3fUxg)

[Chorus: Big Sean] Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it You can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors Clique too big, bread gotta break it 'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin' Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors What I need? No favors Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors [Verse 1: Big Sean] I'm about gettin' the job done, boy up every night I'm about rollin' a seven when I toss up the dice I'm about gettin' my logo all flooded with ice I'm about takin' a risk that might fuck up your life Tell 'em point and shoot like camera crews In front of cameras too (brrr!) Damn, Sean, what happened to the humble attitude? I'm like, "Niggas took the flow, but I'm still standin' too." Thought I had the Midas touch, and then I went platinum too Motherfuck all your comparisons (fuck 'em!) I've been talkin' to God like that's my therapist I'm African-American in America, I ain't inherit shit But a millionaire under 30 so He must be hearin' shit Don, don, don life, I do this for the crib, the D to Flint Kids who get sick with lead, others get hit with the lead From where they need a handout, but they tell you put hands up Only deals I had was from the Sam's Club Now it's blue blood in my veins, though you know what I came for Born in a world goin' where they told me I can't go In my lane though, I'm in the same boat as Usain Bolt Get ahead by any means so the head's what I aim for When my grandma died I realized I got an angel Show me everything's a blessing dependin' on the angles Look, I am the anomaly, never needed favors or apologies That's my new lifetime policy Woodgrain steering wheel, this bitch feel like a pirate ship How many hot verses 'til you bitches start acknowledgin' The pictures we been paintin'? My nigga Connected to a higher power—how I know? 'Cause I don't write this shit: I think it, my nigga Look, all I ever did was beat the odds 'Cause when you try to get even it just don't even out Never stoppin' like we hypnotized Watch what we visualize on the rise Be the G.O.A.T. while we alive; when we die, we gon' be the gods [Chorus: Big Sean] Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it You can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors Clique too big, bread gotta break it 'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin' Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors [Verse 2: Eminem] If she was flavor, I won't save her No taste buds, ho, later! Fuck you lookin' at, hater? I saw them eyes like an ass raper Try to copy my swag like a cheating classmate I'll be the last face you see 'fore you pass When you get your fuckin' ass graded like a math paper So ahead of my time, "late" means I'm early My age is reversing, I'm basically thirty Amazingly sturdy, zany and wordy Brainy and nerdy, blatantly dirty Insanely perverted, rapey and scurvy They blame me for murdering Jamie Lee Curtis Said I put her face in the furnace, beat her with a space heater A piece of furniture, egg beater, thermos It may be disturbing, what I'm saying's cringeworthy But I'm urinating on Fergie, call Shady number 81 Surely I'm turning into the Aaron Hernandez of rap State of emergency, the planet's having panic attacks Brady's returning, matter of fact I may be deserving Of a pat on the back like a Patriots jersey Inexplicable stomach growl from the pit of it Like a fuckin' Terrier hid in it Despicable, dumb it down, ridiculous Tongue is foul, shoot off at the fuckin' mouth Like a missile, a thunder cloud Hundred pound pistol, pull the trigger, this gun will sound And you'll get a round like Digital Underground And fuck Ann Coulter with a Klan poster With a lamp post, door handle, shutter A damn bolt cutter, a sandal, a can opener A candle, rubber, piano, a flannel, sucker Some hand soap, butter, a banjo and manhole cover Hand over the mouth and nose smother Trample ran over the tramp with the Land Rover The band, the Lambo, Hummer and Road Runner Go ham donut, or go Rambo, gut her, make an example of her That's for Sandra Bland, ho, and Philando Hannibal on the lam, no wonder I am so stubborn I'm anti, can't no government handle a commando Your man don't want it Trump's a bitch, I'll make his whole brand go under (yeah) And tell Dre I'm meeting him in L.A. White Bronco like Elway, speeding I'm 'bout to run over a chick, Del Rey CD in? Females stay beating 'em Bet you they'll lay bleeding, and yell, "wait," pleading But screaming is pointless like feeding Michel'le helium Leaving 'em pale-faced, medium-sized welt Straight treating 'em like a cellmate Seedy, I'm climbing hell's gate Bitch, I'm like your problems: self-made Meaning someone else's help ain't needed, 'cause I'ma— [Chorus: Big Sean] Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it You can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors Clique too big, bread gotta break it 'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin' Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors What I need? No favors Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors [Outro] (I know you feeling yourself right now.) (But I'm not sure she's the one—I wouldn't call her, man.) "Hey, I'm outside." What are you doing here?

[stevecanmakeanythingnerdy]

Battle #17

Polysics: Karate House (Side 1)

Vs.

The Slugs: Non-Stop Holiday (Side 1)

Polysics: Karate House (Side 1)

POLYSICS are a Japanese new wave and rock band from Tokyo, who dubs its unique style as "technicolor pogo punk". Polysics was formed in 1997 by then Japanese high-school student Hiroyuki Hayashi. After watching some live footage of Devo and becoming inspired by new wave music of the West, Hayashi quit his soccer team and formed a band to expand on the cartoonish image and musical ideas of the zany art-punk icons he had seen on TV. He was joined by drummer Junichi Sugai and Sako (aka Poly 2). Another member named Kaneko joined within the early years of the band, but he left and was soon replaced by Kayo. Kayo's mechanical stage presence provided an asymmetrical dynamic to the frenetic antics of the other three members. The name of the band derives from the first synthesizer owned by Hayashi, the Korg Polysix. They are certainly a band that wears their heart on their sleeve. Influences range from a diverse multitude of bands such as : Neu!, Brian Eno, XTC, Talking Heads, The B-52's, King Crimson, and Kraftwerk. Even some more obtuse reference like Nirvana, Man or Astroman, David Bowie,and Plastics. The most obvious though is undoubtedly DEVO. Both in sound and image. Even re-interpreting lyrics, ideas and imagery of the band that borders on obsession and plagiarism. So naturally, I LOVE THEM. I have only ever seen live footage, but they certainly bring their “A Game” and full on Japanese quirky experience with them. It was difficult to find any release info on this particular version of this album. It appears to be a double LP packaging of their two albums We ate the Machine and Karate House on MySpace records ( no, really...THAT MySpace.) I am never sure about anything with this band as unique is an understatement. So many things about the time period this was released in still cause me befuddlement. First of all, MySpace had a record label?!??!!?! Wasn’t it pretty much already defunct in 2009? I think the band became popular among Myspace users as a sort of internet phenomenon... I could be totally wrong about that though. Anyhow, Karate House is the LP that came up randomly and side B of said album, so let’s dive into “My Girl’s a Cyborg”. It’s psycho new wave punk from Japan. 100%. Imagine Missing Persons and Devo forming a supergroup and doing crack on stage. Yeah, that. Frantic and mechanical discordant madness! “Akai Master “ follows and circles around a pop keyboard riff. It’s about as calm and mainstream accessible as this band gets. Would you like to be inside a cool computer that writes music for video games? Then you might really enjoy “Dream Programmed”-because it’s essentially your soundtrack. Top it off with male/female vocals and viola! “Professional Tennis “ has timing and frantic randomness to offer. This is actually a very good example of what the band does. Genre mixing and talent levels are on super excite! Mimicking the back and forth of a tennis match. “Always Happiness” is climbing the stairs of insanity. It’s very difficult to tell, as sometimes the band will literally sing in gibberish, but it could be native Japanese also. I am not versed in the language. A bit more melodic on this one, but undoubtedly Hiroyuki shows his penchant for musical intimacy and vocal harmony. Also vocal harmonies! “Shizuka is a Machine” is a very robotic, herky jerky tune. Seems to make sense considering the title. “You-You-You” is very keyboardist focused, mellow and relaxed. It almost feels like someone lip synced to a Rentals album. The final cut is somewhat of a repeated theme (not unlike DEVO’s “Jocko Homo”) called “Polysics or Die!” In fact it’s a direct homage of the parenthetical reference. Basically this is an amalgamation of electronics, surf, indie, new wave, ska, noise, punk and neon. EXACTLY what you would expect from Japan. The only way it could be MORE perfect is if you bought it from a vending machine and it came with Pocky.

The Slugs: Non-Stop Holiday (Side 1)

The Slugs are an American rock band from Chicago, Illinois, United States. Starting in 1983, the band plays power pop heavily influenced by bands such as the Who, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and the Kinks. From their wiki “The Slugs grew out of basement jam sessions by brothers guitarist Dag and bassist Gregg and guitarist Al Paulson in Paulson’s Park Ridge, Illinois home. All three were co-workers at SportsVision (later renamed SportsChannel and FoxSports Chicago). By the early eighties, anxious to become a real band, the trio put out an ad for a drummer that was answered by Chicago native Mike Halston. The Slugs were officially formed on March 6, 1983.” This is their third recording, but first full length album. I’m uncertain if Pravda Records is a personal label of one of the members, but it seems to be the home of the majority of their catalog. In 1988, while still just a trio, the Slugs put out their first full length. The record sleeve for Non-Stop Holiday displayed a photograph of an adolescent Mike Halston. The band toured extensively throughout the Midwest in support of it, gaining a cult following but little notice from record companies.

For a first true album, this has some good structure and cohesion. The examples are spread throughout. “Clock that won’t Stop”is a super popper pop trip down Smithereens lane. Very catchy and jangle jam. You might think you were watching an episode of Friends. “Romeo Sings a Song” continues down jangle street, but with a more mod ala The Jam feel. Maybe even Plimsouls too. A good pedigree! “My Street Your Street” has some surf injected riffs and is a beefier stock. “Indiana Hardcore “follows and is no doubt some sort of geographical joke. Harmony suffers a little (intentionally??) but almost like it’s a guest or different singer. I am almost certain it’s to poke fun at Hoosier punx. Maybe not. Still a good tune. Not as good as “Wasted Bullets”though. Very hook laden with a decent energy and focus. The melody and riffs are present and wrapped up in a neat little package. The hits keep coming though with “Beat City” next on the docket. Gruff and more anthemetic this go around. One might even say punk, really. “Everything is Go” finds the band really hitting its stride. More catchy hooks, not unlike contemporaries such as Material Issue or The Records. The final number doesn’t let up either.

“Five O’ Clock” is calling all mod cons (#seewhatididthere)! Jam-a-lam! It’s a leaving work tune that we can all relate to. Some other key elements you should be plugged into are the fact this little gem was produced by Phil Bonet (Smoking Popes) and it has the Chicago pedigree. There’s just something about that city that produces good music! All of the previously mentioned artists from The Jam, to The Records, to Material Issue, Plimsouls and The Smithereens are well represented here. If you are fans of any of those bands, do yourself a flavor and check out this treat, too! The one party fail is that they sure get their song titles across...so repetitive with the titles...to the point if you didn’t know what the song was called, you could easily guess it.

The Slugs: “Wasted Bullets” is the song I wanted to post but literally couldn’t find much of anything by the band out there except this live clip on WGN news from 2000. MUCH LATER in their career so not as representative of this earlier poppier stuff.

https://youtu.be/SWaJAPZ-6_I

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#Randomrecordworkout

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[xinambercladx]

"Oil Fashioned Love Note"

@sinisterexaggerator passed this writing request to me, saying I should write it since Duros' oil sacs and their romantic purpose being my headcanon. So I obliged, and this was way too fun for me, tbh. Enjoy Part 1! ------------------------------------- Chapter 1: Lovesick Duros (part 1)

Cailom Macaim was a young Duros bachelor who grew up on a star ship. His parents were travelers of the stars, and even when his mother laid her fertilized egg, they refused to settle on the orbital cities to raise their little grub. He was a man in his own right now, and the ship that was his home began to feel claustrophobic. It became clear to him it was time to leave the nest and strike out on his own.

His parents had taught him everything he needed to know for space travel, business skills, and communication with various species. His father grasped his hands tightly and gave an encouraging shake. His mother gifted him a sack with carefully packaged goodbye treats. Spiced clot cakes, his favorite. He breathed deeply one last time the recycled air he knew so well, then he stepped out on the sandy beaches of an alien world. He was certain he’d be fine.

This small port town on Mon Cala was nothing special. But the cold pouring rain, the salty smell of the sea, and the roar of crashing waves made an impression he’d never forget. Cailom didn’t shiver. The spray and rain threatened him, but the space suit was immune to the water and kept him dry and warm.

The locals were so unlike him. Mon Calamari had large eyes and bulbous heads with claw like hands. Quarren were squid-like with tiny mouths, but somehow seemed more… frightening. Perhaps it was their small, suspicious eyes. Cailom’s skin was as blue as the sea, while these people were as uncolorful as the sandy floor. These uncolorful folk weren’t so bad. As the months went by he found sailors willing to take him under their wing, teaching him the art of sailing and fishing. The high sea rocked and swelled, and his spirit was filled with adventure every day.

Yet a part of him was empty. Some days he would breathe the salty air and feel invigorated, only later to huff and escape into his bunk, feeling low. Perhaps he was homesick. He had never been on his own before. He had made friends here, began a new life among them.

Something is missing, he thought.

He peered at a hologram of his parents. They smiled with their fangs unbarred, pleasantly, and held each other as couples do. His heart ached. He turned over and had one last thought before falling asleep, Time to go. He found what he was looking for many months and many planets later, winding up on Jedha. He didn’t know it, but he had been restlessly searching not for freedom, but for her.

Cailom stopped in his tracks. He held his breathe, as if it would be a wind that would blow away what he hoped was not an illusion. In the heart of Ni Jedha was a market, and holding a wicker basket filled with fresh vegetables was a young Duros woman. Her eyes were a delicate crimson, almost pink, and her microscales was a lovely purple. It was a full week before he gained the courage to speak to her.

She noticed him when he approached the stall adjacent to the one where she stood. It was the closest he had dared. It was now or never. He took in a deep breath and turned to say hello. She had turned her head, already looking at him, swinging her basket playfully. She lifted a delicate long fingered hand and blew him a kiss. The shock nearly sent him reeling. He gulped. It was definitely now or never. He walked up to her and smiled.

“I was beginnin’ to lose hope you’d ever say hello, Traveler,” she teased. “I thought you’d jump behin’ the black melons again when I blew dat kiss atcha.”

“I have it right here. It fluttered over like a butterfly,” he said, raising his hand holding nothing but an air-blown kiss. “I’m Cailom Macaim. I’d love to hear your name?”

“Zani,” she said, peering up at him with those big rose petal eyes. “Zani Lam.”

They spent that afternoon together dodging the bustling crowds, and learning about eachother. She was a daughter of immigrants from New Teyana. She had the distinct spacer accent, but he found it charming. It was another week before he asked her out on a date. They hit it off far better than he had hoped. Her walk had a sway to it, with her hips begging for his hand to rest on the side.

It was another week before he had the courage to rest his hand there while they walked through the market together. She let him. Cailom couldn’t believe this beautiful woman was by his side. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her. He had dated many girls before, most of which were either human or other common spacer alien species. Non had enraptured him like this. His favorite thing about Zani was her laugh. He would crack a joke just to hear it, but also to see how she’d raise her long fingers to shield her fangs from view. For having lived in a space ghetto, she was incredibly modest and shy.

One night when he walked her home, he held her hand tightly. She hugged his arm, and although Duros females lacked bosoms, she pressed her ribcage against his elbow. It was terribly distracting. He took it as a signal that she might actually like him. When they reached her front door, there was a tension in the air.

There was hope in her eyes, and he noticed they flitted to his mouth for the third time that night, and for the third time, she’d look away as if she were a child having been caught stealing a piece of candy. He didn’t miss it the fourth time, barely a minute later. He reached to catch hold of her cheek before she could look away and gently held her there.

He leaned his head down, touching his rostrum to hers. Then he kissed her, gently, sweetly. He parted lips for a breath, but she pulled him back, tugging on his space suit collar. He rattled gently, and she replied with her own, a slightly higher pitch.

What a cute rattle, he couldn’t help but think, daring to deepen the kiss. ------------------------------------------------------------ "Oil Fashioned Love Note" on Tumblr: Chapter 1: Part 2 ------------------------------------------------------------ Original Oil Sac Headcanon Post w/Cad Bane on Vacay <-click

xInAmberCladx's Fanart Archive <-click

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