#his name is Bartholomew Bo

[icrazy-snowyowl]

IMPORTANT!! /j

Look at him!

[jtl-fics]

omg this whole FF's name situation made me think about this book, idk if you ever read (or know) about the Lux series of JLA (great books, those aliens are awesome, daemon my beloved), but anyway there is this character there that his name is Blake but Daemon never called him that it was always some random name (like Ben, Brad, Bo, Bryon, Flake, Hank, Bilbo Baggins, Bartholomew even Butter-face) and I can totally see the foxes trying to guess FF name and even give him a nickname to Smith that isn't even his real name lol

Lol yeah FF has no idea that his name is a topic of conversation. He wants to be called Smith, everyone calls him some variation of Smith he thinks it is all good.

That being said he would absolutely be greatly disheartened if:

He finds out that his brand new friends don't even know his name.

They started calling him random other names because he does have a very strong attachment to his last name.

Maybe this is the beginning of the B-plot of Fluent Freshman where the Monsters + Matt are all trying really hard to figure out FF's first name without ever letting FF know that they have no idea what his first name is.

[cheswirls]

xx preview :)

-

Her hand slowly falls from his chest once her breathing has returned to normal. “My parents–”

“Are probably worried,” Sabo finishes, not letting her close that train of thought with what she’d asked previously. “We should call them, hm? Let them know where you are.”

She looks away, biting her lip to betray her nerves, and Sabo tries something else.

“You don’t have to talk to them just yet. We can pretend you’re still asleep, if you’d like. That way they get updated and you go home faster.”

She takes the words in and does another cursory look around the room. Then she points to herself. “Who else was in here when I woke up?”

He smiles. “Just me.”

“Then.” She swallows. “Can we pretend I’m still asleep for everyone out there?” She points to the curtain. “Just for a little bit longer?”

Smart girl. If she’s still unconscious, then they still have no one to contact. His smile widens. “Tell you what. If you give me your name, I’ll keep your secret for another hour. Then we’ll call your parents together. Deal?”

“Yeah, okay.” She nods slowly. “It’s Bonney. Bartholomew Bonney.”

“Spell it,” Sabo says, and quickly pens it out on her forms as she does so. “Perfect. Let me check a few more things, Bonney, then I’ll let you get some more rest.”

“Do you have water?” she asks. “My throat is all scratchy.”

That makes sense, considering the tube she’d had down her esophagus during surgery. He confirms and rises to grab the cup he’d filled with ice water earlier, turning the straw in her direction and letting her take the plastic in both hands before releasing it. 

“How old are you, Bonney?”

She moves her lips from the straw to answer. “Fifteen!”

Hm. Younger than he’d thought. “Do you know your weight?”

“Forty-three, I think? Mm!” She perks up. “And a hundred and fifty-two centimeters!”

“Very good.” Sabo smiles as he scribbles the numbers in. “Blood type?”

“Oh.” Bonney shakes her head. “I don’t know that one. Mom is type A, if that helps?”

“That’s fine.” He leaves the box blank. “We had you on O when we did your transfusion. Nothing wrong with that if we need another.”

“Transfu-what?” She makes a face. “Is that what this is?” She points to where the needle is embedded in her right wrist.

“Close!” Sabo clicks his pen and leans forward. “You’re on a morphine drip, so that would be an infusion. A blood transfusion is where you get new blood pushed into your veins.”

“Huh.” Her eyes drop, Sabo notices, to his nametag. She mouths it twice before trying to say it aloud. “Anything else, doctor Say-bo?”

“Sah-bo,” he corrects lightly. Bonney flushes and he chuckles, finally leaning back. “I’m not a doctor yet. I’m actually finishing up medical school. This is one of my final rotations.” He sets the clipboard down and puts her water cup to the side when she moves it in his direction. “Let me check your eyes real quick.”

“Huuuh.” Bonney leans back, lost in thought. “Saaaaaaaaabo,” she tries again, drawing the vowel out. “Wait, my eyes? What for?”

“Checking pupil response.” He returns to her side with a light in hand. “I want to walk you through a few things to make sure your brain is working properly.”

Bonney carefully keeps her eyes wide as he shines the light into each, doing her best to hold still. “Did something happen to my head? I don’t remember hitting it or anything.”

Sabo puts the light away and uses her left hand to test some motor skills. “Not physically, in that case. We weren’t sure, so we were being careful. Always good to be cautious.” He clears his throat, trying to think of a simple way to explain the next bit. “When you lose a lot of blood, your body can’t resupply any to your brain as quickly as it can to other areas. Too much blood loss for too long starts to affect how your brain functions, so I just want to make sure things are normal.” He has her do one more thing and then smiles, satisfied. “Which they appear to be.”

“Oh, goodie.” Bonney leans back again with a big sigh, the tension dropping from her shoulders in a comical manner. She sits quietly while Sabo scribbles notes onto her file. 

Sabo doesn’t consider the quiet a bad thing until it’s not quiet before, Bonney sniffling behind his back. He looks over his shoulder and stops writing in alarm when he sees fat tears streaming down her face. Her hands are clenched into the thin sheet she’s pulled up to her waist, and her legs are curled up so her knees are even with her neck.

Sabo sets the clipboard down and hurries over. “Does it hurt?” he asks, referring to her side. Her new position leaves her torso straightened out enough to where it shouldn’t really bother her, so he leaves her be instead of trying to uncurl her.

“No,” she chokes. “I just–” She bites back a sob. “I’m so stupid! I don’t know what I’m going to tell my dad.”

Sabo minutely relaxes and does his best not to sigh. He’s not . . . really great at this aspect of patient care. But, well, he’s done alright with her so far. And her hour wasn’t up yet. It wouldn’t be fair for him to grab someone else to better console her after he’d already made her that promise.

He settles heavily on the free space on the cot and tries to think about what Ace would do. Ace had always been better with kids than Sabo. He’d come home from his rotation in pediatrics and talk Sabo’s ear off about how much the staff loved him; meanwhile, that same staff had barely tolerated Sabo during his own rotation in year three. (It was fine, he’d decided after brooding about it for long enough. People had different strengths, and working with young people clearly wasn’t one of his. At least not at this point in his life.)

Sabo isn’t Ace, though, and Ace isn’t here to tell him what to do. He has to figure out what works for him.

“You can always tell me first,” he starts with. “If that makes it easier. I’m bound under oath, so anything you say to me will stay between us.” A little white lie won’t hurt. Not if it earns her trust, anyway.

Bonney looks conflicted about this prospect. She’s still crying, quiet hiccups shaking her form. But she’s looking at him like she’s thinking over the offer. Her arms move up to wrap around her knees. She winces when the movement pulls at her side.

“I won’t think you’re stupid, no matter what happened,” he tries, lowering his voice to try and be softer. “I’m just here to help, remember? Maybe telling someone will be good for you, too.”

Bonney’s head drops to her knees in defeat. She nods, the motion pulling at her hair. “Okay.”

Sabo wants to take her legs and jerk them so they’re straight, if only to fix her posture so she’s not aggravating her wound. He resists, though, not wanting to risk her retreating into her shell. Instead he sits there calmly, hands in lap, waiting for Bonney to pick her head up and start her story.

“I was messing around with a friend,” she mumbles, voice hollow. “He brought one of his parent’s handguns to try out, and we were just having fun trying it out.” She lifts her left arm and mimes a shot. “The, uh, recoil? It was awful, especially because I’m so scrawny. So he helped me with a shot, except I got stubborn about it, and between the two of us we discharged the gun.” Her hand drifts back to her side. She’s crying again, voice warbling the more wet her face gets. 

“I told him it wasn’t his fault but he wouldn’t listen. He drove me up here when we couldn’t stop the bleeding, and he wanted to come in with me, and I made him leave because I didn’t want him to get in trouble!” She starts sobbing again, breathing erratically, shoulders and entire body shaking with the effort. 

Sabo didn’t want to scare her, so he hadn’t said it, but having a minor with a GSW meant they had to let law enforcement know there’d been an incident. They’d probably come in to talk to Bonney after Sabo leaves and everyone is alerted that she’s conscious. To know that there wasn’t an actual crime involved is . . it’s a strange comfort, at present.

“He won’t get in trouble,” Sabo promises. “You don’t . . .” He hesitates, visibly, but Bonney’s attention is on him now, so he continues. “You don’t have to tell anyone else what happened if you don’t want to. That’s between you and him.”

She bites her lip again, shakes her head. “My parents won’t like–”

“I don’t mean them. Or, just them,” Sabo amends. “I’m talking about anyone else in this hospital. Anyone at all. No matter who they are. I’m glad you told me, because if something had happened that we didn’t know about, and it was information that we needed in order to treat you, then it would be very important to know. But we’ve already pulled the bullet out of you, and your life isn’t in danger, so this stays between us. Okay?”

Bonney nods frantically.

Sabo can’t resist, so he tacks on, “if you end up in an emergency situation again, you should always let a medical professional know how you got injured. They’ll keep it to themselves – they have to – and the more information there is to go off of, the better treatment you’ll receive in the end.”

Bonney nods more. She’s sniffling, and still sorta crying, but she’s not being as loud about it, like she’s trying to stop. 

“And–” He can’t believe he’s about to offer to do this, but he hates seeing her so miserable. “–if you need me to tell your parents for you, then I can try. But considering it was an accident, it might be better for you to try yourself.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bonney whispers. “But do you– Um. Do you think you could tell them it was an accident? So they don’t worry?”

“I can do that,” Sabo promises. “Are you ready to let them know you’re here?”

“Yes,” she mumbles, crowding her face close to her knees again. “And some more water, please.”

Sabo does her one better: he brings her a handful of tissues and a full cup of cold water. While she fixes her face, muttering a thanks to him before blowing her nose, Sabo tucks her chart safely under his arm.

“I’ll be right back, Bonney.”

[booksandchainmail]

Recently read through Kate Elliott's Unconquerable Sun and Furious Heaven, the first two parts of a trilogy described as genderbent Alexander the Great in space. Excellent books, but I didn't have the knowledge of Alexander's life necessary to draw the historical parallels. Fortunately, the author has a few essays up on tor.com explaining it. Unfortunately, she doesn't spell out all the connections, so here's what I have, ones stated by the author bolded:

(some spoilers, I guess)

Sun: Alexander the Great

Eirene: Phillip II of Macedon (Alexander's father)

Joao: Olympias (Alexander's mother)

Persephone "Perse" Lee: Ptolemy I Soter (Alexander's companion, later pharaoh of Egypt, noted for keeping memoirs and sponsoring mathematics)

Hestia "Hetty" Hope: Hesphaistion (Alexander's companion and lover)

Alika Vata: Perdiccas (Alexander's companion and general)

James Samtarras: does not have a historical analog, since he apparently fulfills multiple roles

Makinde Bo: Lysimachus (Alexander's general)

Razin Nazir: don't know, she hasn't shown up much, presumably one of Alexander's other companions/generals

Jade Kim: Craterus (Alexander's general, often distrusted for his ambition)

Tiana: Thais (courtesan who later became Ptolemy's consort)

Solomon: Seleuccas (Alexander's general, later founded the Seleucid Empire)

Octavian: no historical analog

Zizou: no historical analog

Crane Marshal Zaofu Samtarras: Parmenion (cautious older general contrasted against Alexander)

Anas Samtarras: Philotas (Parmenion's oldest son)

Angharad Black: Cleitus the Black (soldier who saved Alexander's life)

Moira Lee: Attalos (friend of Phillip's who arranged his marriage to Attalos's yougner relative)

Marduk Lee: Antipater (Alexander's regent in macedonia while he was away on campaign)

Nona Lee: Antigonus? I'm hesitant about this, but Nona is the only character I can think of who fits the description of "one of Philip’s old guard who unlike most of the rest of the older generation retained his importance long into and past the Alexander era"

Dimitar: Demetrius (Antigonus's son, the names match which supports the Nona=Antigonus theory)

Soaring Shan: Cleopatra (Alexander's sister)

Metis: Phillip Arhiddaeus (Alexander's half brother, deemed mentally unfit to rule)

Beau Qiang: Callisthenes (Alexander's historian)

Baron Voy: amalgamation of Demosthenes and Aeschines (athenian orators)

Baragesi: Darius III (ruler of the persians)

Jejomar Os Cook: Sisygambis (Darius's mother, captured by Alexander)

Bartholomew: Barsine (persian noblewoman who knew Alexander as a child, and later married him)

Manu: Memnon (greek mercenary who fought for persia)

Apama: this one I struggled with, Kate Elliott says, "She has an historical counterpoint and in some ways I consider her my most important gender spin in the entire story." But I couldn't find any corresponding person she could be genderbent from. Then I realized that "gender spin" could be referring, not to making a historically male figure female, but to giving a female figure the agency and role in this narrative that she didn't get in the historical record. So my guess is Apama I, a persian noblewoman from a region whose leaders were later referred to as Sabao, whose wikipedia page basically just lists her father, husband, and children.

[t4r0tc4rdz]

His full name is Bartholomew 😭

Don’t call him that or “Barty” as he hates both. He likes Bo, and after he marries Finn (in the DISTANT future, he becomes Bo Mertens :3)

[dweemeister]

The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T (1953)

Theodore Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss, remains best-known for his children’s books. The Cat in the Hat; Green Eggs and Ham; and Oh, the Places You’ll Go! are household names in English-language literature. Seuss’ bibliography overshadows his work in films, beginning with the adapted screenplay of his own book, The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins (1943) – directed by George Pal as part of the Puppetoons series. During WWII, Seuss was heavily involved in propaganda films and the Private Snafu (1943-1946) military training films. After the war’s end, Seuss returned to writing children’s books, but also continued to write for movies. The Academy Award-winning animated short film Gerald McBoing-Boing (1950) benefitted from Seuss’ story work, and Seuss’ success there inspired him to write a screenplay for a live-action fantasy film. That screenplay – the unwieldy rough draft coming in at over 1,200 pages – was The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T. The eventual movie, produced by Stanley Kramer (1960’s Inherit the Wind, 1961’s Judgment at Nuremberg) and directed by Roy Rowland (1945’s Our Vines Have Tender Grapes, 1956’s Meet Me in Las Vegas) for Columbia Pictures, would be Seuss’ only involvement in a non-documentary feature film.

Like many who speak English as their first language, Dr. Seuss’ books graced my early childhood. So integral to numerous children’s youth is Seuss that his whimsy, wordplay, and authorial stamps are easily recognizable. In that spirit, the cinematic record of live-action Seuss adaptations consists of the scatological Jim Carrey in How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000) and the visual nightmare that is Mike Myers as The Cat in the Hat (2003). Compared to the original works, both films are ungainly, casually cruel, and overcomplicated. Not promising company for Dr. T. But even taking into account the three animated feature adaptations of Seuss – Horton Hears a Who! (2008), The Lorax (2012), and The Grinch (2018) – and the fact that Columbia forced wholesale deletions from the rough draft script of Dr. T to achieve a feasible runtime, The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T is arguably the most faithful feature adaptation to Dr. Seuss’ authorial intent and signature aesthetic.

In other words, this is one of the strangest films you may ever encounter. No synopsis I could write in one paragraph will ever capture the film’s bizarreries.

Little Bart Collins (Tommy Rettig) is asleep during piano practice and his teacher, Dr. Terwilliker (Hans Conried), is furious. His overworked, widowed mother Heloise (Mary Healey) intuits Terwilliker’s unrealistic expectations (Terwilliker wants to teach the next Paderewski) towards Bart’s piano skills and inability to concentrate. Heloise also appears to be quietly eyeing the plumber August Zabladowski (Peter Lind Hayes) and his wrench. With the lesson done for the day, Bart falls asleep again. This time, he dreams that Terwilliker is now the leader of the Terwilliker Institute, a pianist supremacy mini-state which is built upon five hundred young pianist slave boys (hence, 5,000 fingers) forcibly playing Terwilliker’s latest compositions. His mother is Terwilliker’s unwilling, hypnotized assistant and plumber August Zabladowski (Hayes is essentially playing the same character, but in a different world) is Bart’s only ally around. Together, Bart and Mr. Zabladowski must evade the Institute’s guards as they attempt to undermine Terwilliker’s plans for his next concert.

In its final form, The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T is a muddled mess of a story. The analogues between Bart’s reality and his dreams are inconsistent, several would-be subplots never resolve (or at the very least develop beyond a basic idea), and the film’s initial lightness is subject to rapid mood swings that make this picture feel disjointed. Indeed, Seuss’ sprawling social commentary in his first draft – including allegories and themes of post-WWII totalitarianism, anti-communism, and atomic annihilation – is in tatters in this final product. The viewer will witness brief fragments of those ideas, remaining in this movie as the barest of hints of the contents of the original screenplay’s rough draft. Even now, Dr. T inspires psychiatric analyses and accusations that Bart’s relationship with his mother reveals signs of an Oedipal complex (to yours truly, the latter is too much of a reach). The grim nature of Terwilliker Institute renders Dr. T unsuitable for the youngest children. For older children and adults, try going into this movie without expectations of narrative logic and embrace the grotesque aspects that only Seuss could imagine.

If my attempts to describe this movie’s preposterousness through its narrative and screenwriting approach have failed, perhaps I can capture that for you by writing on its technical features.

For its sheer narrative inventiveness – inconsistencies, abrupt tonal shifts, nonsense, and Rowland’s uninspired direction aside – The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T is nevertheless an ambitious film, and Columbia bequeathed a hefty budget to match that ambition. Much of that budget went to the film’s visuals. This is an extravagantly-staged motion picture, as nothing could do Dr. Seuss’ illustrations justice without fully committing to his geometric impossibilities: skyward ladders and improbable connections between rooms, an eschewal of right angles and straight lines, and architecture bound to raise the ire of physics teachers. One could compare this to German Expressionism, but Dr. T’s sets tend not to dictate the film’s mood nor are they subject to high-contrast lighting. Seuss went uncredited as the concept artist on Dr. T, and it was up to Clem Beauchamp (1935’s The Lives of a Bengal Lancer, 1952’s High Noon) and the uncredited matte artists to commit those visuals to the real world. Outside of animated film, Beauchamp and the matte artists succeed in creating twisted sets that seem to leap off the pages of Seuss’ most artistically interesting books. Some of the sets appear too stagebound, but the production design accomplishes its need to resemble a world borne from a fever dream (or, at least, a young pianist’s nightmare).

This movie’s outrageous costume design (other than Jean Louis’ gowns for Mary Healey, the costume designer/s for this film are uncredited) comprises absurd uniforms and two of the most ludicrous hats – the “happy fingers” cap (see photo at the top of this write-up) and whatever the hell Terwilliker dons in the film’s climax – one might ever see in a film. Most of the costumes are laughably impractical and ridiculous to even those without fashion sense. In what might be the tamest example, while working under Terwilliker, Bart’s mother wears a suit that is all business formal on the left-hand side and bare-shouldered, sleeveless, and nightclub-y on the right. The delineation of real life – which barely features in the film’s eighty-nine minutes – and this world of Bart’s dreams could not be any more unambiguous thanks to the combination of the production and costume design work.

The disappointing musical score by Fredrich Hollaender (1930’s The Blue Angel, 1948’s A Foreign Affair) and song lyrics by Seuss rarely connects to the larger narrative unfolding. Seven songs make the final print, with nine (yikes!) Hollaender-Seuss songs ending up on the cutting room floor. Seuss’ wordplay is evident, as are Hollaender’s melodic flourishes. Columbia, a studio not known for its musicals, assembled a 98-piece orchestra – the largest musical ensemble to work on a Columbia film at the time – for The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T alone. That lush sound is apparent throughout for the numerous nonsense songs that color the score in addition to the incidental score. It is unusual to listen to a collection of novelty songs orchestrated so fully. Listen to “Dressing Song: Do-Mi-Do Duds” and its complicated, seeming unsingable lines:

Come on and dress me, dress me, dress me In my peek-a-boo blouse With the lovely inner lining made of Chesapeake mouse! I want my polka-dotted dickie with the crinoline fringe For I'm going doe-me-doe-ing on a doe-me-doe binge!

The rich orchestration seems to hail from a more lavish film. But too many of these songs are scene-specific, and rarely does Hollaender utilize musical quotations from these songs into his score. “Get Together Weather” is delightful, but it seems so isolated from the rest of the film; elsewhere, “The Dungeon Song” exemplifies a macabre side to Seuss seldom appearing in his books. Nevertheless, Hollaender is able to demonstrate his playfulness across the entire film, none moreso during any scene with the bearded, roller-skating twins and the “Dungeon Ballet”, in which the music complements stunning choreography and fascinating props that recall the jingtinglers, floofloovers, tartookas, whohoopers, slooslunkas, and whowonkas from the Christmas television special How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (1966). Yet, Hollaender’s film score and the soundtrack with Seuss seems to demand something – anything – to tie the entire compositional effort together. Perhaps a song or some cue like that was cut from the film, which is ultimately to its detriment.

Hans Conried (who starred as Captain Hook in Disney’s Peter Pan several months prior to Dr. T’s release) stands out from a decidedly average Peter Lind Hayes and Mary Healey – Hayes and Healey, in a sort of in-joke, were married. Conried’s performance as the sadistic, torture- and imprisonment-happy music teacher can be considered camp, but this is anything but “bad” camp. He throws himself completely into this cartoonish role, sans shame, complete with mid-Atlantic accent, and topped off with exaggerated facial and physical acting that fits this fantasy. As Bart, child actor Tommy Rettig (best known as Jeff Miller on the CBS television series Lassie) seems more assured in his performance than most child performers his age during the 1950s. His fourth wall-breaking asides seem more appropriate in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, but Rettig makes it work, and inhabits Bart’s flaws wonderfully.

Columbia demanded numerous reworkings of Seuss’ script, leading to several reshoots – most notably the opening scene (Seuss opposed the conceit of Bart’s dream framing the film) – and a ballooning budget. Upon its release in the summer of 1953, The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T bombed at the box office and was assailed by critics. A crestfallen Seuss, who could not stand the production difficulties that beset the film from the start of shooting, would never work in feature films again. He would dedicate himself almost entirely to writing and illustrating children’s books, with many of his most popular titles (including The Cat in the Hat, One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish, and Green Eggs and Ham) published within a decade of Dr. T’s critical and commercial failure. His hesitance to participate in filmmaking informed his reluctance to allow Chuck Jones to adapt How the Grinch Stole Christmas! thirteen years later. Animation suited his books, Seuss thought, and he would never again pay any consideration to live-action filmmaking.

The reevaluation of The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T has seen a rehabilitation of the film’s image in recent decades. Home media releases and television showings have introduced the film to viewers not influenced by the hyperbolic negativity of the film critics working in 1953. This is not a sterling example of Old Hollywood fantasy filmmaking, due to a heavily gutted screenplay, scattershot thematic development, and incongruent musical score. Yet, the movie’s surrealistic charms and Seussian chaos know no peers, even in the present day.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[girlofthefandom]

Tales from the smp thoughts and random quotes I enjoy (essentially delayed live blogging) Part 1

I love all these npcs already

“Hurry up camera man!”

Yes! Gladiators! I remember seeing someone say that idea

Just some joes

Porkeous the 7th. Oh no I can see the fan girls now.

Yes! Punch em off!!

“Yeah same.”

“That’s good cause I don’t” “we build a new colosseum every time”

I can’t want to see the names of everyone’s characters. Especially Philz’

Stairs everyone’s worst enemy

Tubbo... sweet child

She disappeared!! Witch craft! Burn the witch!

Tubbo=Jacky (forced off streets)

Fundy=Laggius Maximus (I love this name so much with the spinning)

Please don’t kill both the boys in this fight. But also I’m cheating for Laggius.

Subbin Empire? Subbin to Technoblade!

Go Laggius! This is not going to go well... this is really not going to go well...

No I refuse to root for Jacky. I like Laggius the bit will be funnier later.

I want to know what happened to the last camera guy! Let us know!

Vertical feeling! Heaven forbid! Also look at them insulting TikTok

I love the background music. Feels magical.

A lovely jump

Surprises... well that’s ominous. And wait the first one!

Tower! Towers are always good.

We got our popcorn. Ready to watch this fight.

Laggius is... coming... maybe...

GG Jacky... he hasn’t won yet but gg.

Lava!!!! Hooray! Love us some good lava

Poor Laggius... he was burning too early

And Laggius is still lagging

Why isn’t Jacky burning?? He won???

Knocked unconscious in the lava. What is this a Pokémon game?

GG Jacky.

Nobody needs to know the way around here.

“Almost like a video game” just break that fourth wall right down

Keeps looking at sapnaps character and talking about strong. How sweet. We love some fiancé’s.

Please don’t throw Laggius to the wolves

Jack Manifold = Bartholomew

Phil having to translate. I love it.

Watson = Phil

Good pun. Very good pun.

Nobody likes Punz. Gosh everyone’s so mean

We love Watson. Let’s go Watson.

Bartholomew with the drugs and Watson.

Crazy drunk man with fire resistance

I agree with Watson why did we come to this cousin.

Sapnap in a hole

Also I love the drinking age being 3

Let’s go Watson!!!

Where are my Pom poms? I’ve got a Watson to cheer for.

Execute those architects.

And their first Borns.

Watson! Watson! Watson!

“Welcome to the land of the living Bartholomew.”

I love the slow fight.

Come on Watson shoot em!

Oh no. Oh no. Come on Watson. You’re so close!

Noooooooooo.

Why Bartholomew???? I can’t spell that! I’ve been relying on autocorrect this whole time.

Watson would be so much easier to spell.

Still must go down the stairs.

Speed running life. That’s what I do.

No one dies. Just take them to nurse joy.

Poor Punz being so bullied

Punz=Levi

Levi? Really? Oh well I like the name. He won’t like but I like the name.

Also why does Levi have such a full backstory.

Has weapon hands with a horrible southern accent. I love it.

“Hmmm”

Who is Ol’ Sap?

Sapnap = John

And no creativity apparently.

Laggius had the best name for a gladiator. All the others are too boring.

Why are we beating up BBH

Hannah=Genevieve

Genevieve! I can spell that thanks to old Barbie movies!!

Go Genevieve! Trained her life! I love this woman!

Mostly women upstairs. I love it our fandom is so biased.

“Are you sure about that?”

Darlin? Really that’s not the right word.

Go Genevieve! I probably shouldn’t cheer for her since everyone I’ve cheered for has lost.

But still GO GENEVIEVE!!

Our empire is millions in dept

Let’s step up the battle! Let’s gooooo

“Ayyyyy!!!”

Go Genevieve! Levi hush up with your gills.

Jump in! Splish Splash!

Wait why are we listening to Mario Kart music? Wait I recognize this song.

Go Genevieve!!

YES FINALLY! I PICKED THE WINNER!

Levi hush. You done lost messed up southern boi.

Go Genevieve! I can actually spell your name!

I straight forgot Porkeous the 7ths name for a second and had to check my notes.

Stairs. Woop de doo.

“Pick the most handsome” wow

Ol’ Sap = John as I remember. And he’s sticking with it. Bold man sticking with it.

Ranboo = Ran

Just Ran and it’s just the enderman part of the skin. Haha. Very funny.

BBH = Edward

He went from strange voice to normal(ish) voice

I don’t like Edwards speech pattern. At the very least. Yucky.

John v. Edward letsa go

Go John!

Wait we renaming? This is going to get confusing.

Handsome. Can you two quit flirting (not really keeping going)

Alrighty then Ugly v. Edward

Go Ugly! (Sentence I never expected to type)

The seat thing

And saying king Julien. Sigh.

Just BRB real quick.

Thinking about buying things. Oh he meant ad.

Alright Ad 1/3 let’s go.

No I can’t even open chat to watch them instead of the ad. Boooo.

2/3 let’s get this done!

3/3

Snickers just loading for forever

Alrighty we survived.

And a crown really? Just wants his normal skin back.

Let’s go Ugly!

Bo-at battle! Let’s go!

Please don’t shoot Ugly.

Go Ugly!

“King Are you ok!”

I still hate Edwards speech pattern so much

Please. Just pretend to have a fair fight.

The rabbits???? Cant rabbits swim?

Hooray rabbits! I don’t what purpose they serve but I love them.

Edward or Edwardo? Did I miss something?

Ok it seems both.

Shooting a rabbit? Disowner on you disowner on your cow.

Killing pets reference? The references are so good.

YES UGLY!!!! Thank heavens!

I’m 2/4 for choosing the winner.

I hope ugly keeps on winning

“Colosseum Remote Control”

3 in 1 battle how did they not plan correctly for an even number

Nerds hold cameras you heard it here folks

I don’t want to hear deeper for some of these stories. All I want to see is Genevieves further story. She seems deep.

“Massive pigs growling at us. No offense”

Watson trying to clean the table.

We bringing in the Harmonika.

Harmonika fits the moment.

Yes name him handsome! Haha

Grievous is how I’m spelling that stupid sounding name. But it’s better than John and ugly.

I can’t get over the name Ran.

BE GONE LEVI!

I love Watson having to take care of Bartholomew. Translating for him and waking him up.

Phil just can’t resist playing the dad.

No no stopping just fighting.

Also I love Watson saying break it up. I wish Watson had won.

Genevieve sounds like such a lovely lady and she deserves to win.

As much as I love Grevious I want Genevieve to win.

Sapnap=Grevious good gracious this is hard to follow.

Ran is cool. I’m going to kill over listening to them just saying Ran.

Complicated backstory. Found the main character.

Ran is cool.

Wait this place is going down??? Pardon me???

Three person fight is...

Grevious v. Ran v. Bartholomew

Genevieve v. Jacky

Puns! Let’s go! And of course Levi likes Puns.

Everyone is so mean.

GO GENEVIEVE!

And Watson just babysitting Bartholomew

I’m going to get good at spelling Bartholomew. Because I was horrible at it before.

Empire of women!

Cages=Lava

“Mmm what smells good”

Battle star!!

“Boing Boing Boing”

Water dome?

Water Dome in Lava?

Well he tried zombies/bunnies

Lava in the water sphere?

Only fight at top of fishbowl got it.

GO GENEVIEVE!

Come on girl you’ve got this!

No Genevieve babe please don’t lose.

“The boats going down.” “It’s yelling timber.” “Like that song that hasn’t been made yet.”

Hurry up and die. I love it.

NO GENEVIEVE!!!!!

Do do do do

That was a longer fight. But pretty good.

To the cellars! Not to the cellars!

No! The boat is gone!

That was close.

This feels like a funky Pokémon game.

Jacky is a finalist! Good for him. I’m not cheering for him but good for him.

TRIANGLE FORMATION

Who’s missing? Oh wait it’s Bartholomew

“Intense prison cosmetic surgery”

Rabbits! We love rabbits.

Oh no faceplant mode!

What is even happening?!?!

Thinking creatively.

Just don’t die. What a game.

Cant wait to watch the thinking creatively animatic.

In a boat to avoid floating.

Attack!

Go Ran!

Oh we’re lagging.

Disable the dive mode!

The zombies are a bit much. Oh everyone’s actually fighting.

Rats why weren’t there baby zombies when Watson was going. They even made a Phil reference.

No treaties.

Go Ran! Keep on running away.

I love Ran.

GO RAN! I love Grevious. But GO RAN

Faster Zombies. Zombies go zoom.

Oh Grevious won.

Wait why does Ran have grass and why do they see him again.

Placing more dirt to clean old dirt.

Poor Grevious.

I feel sorry for him now.

Stand on da dirt.

Put the rabbits in the cages!!!!

I cheer for Grevious.

And yes there are many a loser.

Everything is so spicy. As in lava is there.

You can’t kick your fiancé’s future descendent out of the gang.

A full inventory

Watson with the backup button!

Seriously all he can do is be a dad.

OH BOY LAGGIOUS IS BACK!

And he’s here for the picture.

And Watson is (still) bullying him!

Bartholomew is pure trouble.

Ooops. The root beer was on the brain.

Watson! Come get your drunk!

Oh wait he actually did! I love this so much.

Petition for more Phil in Tales.

Only Genevieve voting for Jacky

Some people refusing to vote.

I’m sorry who asked if Laggius is ok.

He is always (not) ok

He is fine. See.

I love Laggius’ character the most.

Go winners!

Reformed kinda. If that doesn’t sum up the whole of the smp.

All the grass in the cage.

And Laggius being his slow self.

Nothing v. General

I love how it went from King to Emperor to King

And there is Laggius.

I don’t know how anyone else is spelling Laggius but I like this way and refuse to edit it if it actually spelled different.

Oh we’re getting more ads.

1/3 let’s go

[kaylathekittykat225]

Mama Drake // Tim Drake!Robin x Reader

Warning/s: Um...angst? Sorta? I don’t know

Word Count: 3,385

Back again, oh yeah, you know, writing this kinda stuff before a paper that I need to write, if we just pretend the paper doesn’t exist, I don’t have to write it, right? By the way, your last name in this will be Buteo, which is the Genus name for the Red-Tailed Hawk, just and FYI. 

Here’s my Masterlist.

-----

You know, working with the Young Justice team was awesome: the training helped you in great leaps and bounds that especially with your training under Hawk Girl, your social life grew faster and stronger around the team than the people you knew as Y/N and you felt pretty cool running around with the alias Red-Tail.

But working with the Young Justice League was not so great. At least, Batman's sidekick wasn't so great.

Every move you made, he criticized you.

You jumped in front of a bullet for him, he'd yell at you.

You sweat a little less than he does, he'd scream at you.

You ate the wrong kind of cereal, he'd flip. Yeah that one happened before.

What the heck did you even do?! Every time you asked Hawk Girl, she always gave you some convoluted beating around the bush.

Right now you were just sitting happily on the kitchen counter in the base, this place being your home when Hawk Girl dropped you off to live here. You sat with a bowl of frosted flacks held in the center of your crossed legs, your eyes watching a fly fly around the kitchen, landing on random places and then flying off again.

A huge crash came from the main room, the fly jolting away to another room in the compound and you leaning over your bowl to see down the hallway.

"Get back here!" Nightwing's voice shouted down the hallway, his almost silent footsteps to your ears matched another pair at a much quicker pace.

"Wallace?" The younger flash had been a quick one to introduce himself when you first joined the team before he retired.

"Red-Tail! Grab him!" Hopping off the counter, you stepped into the doorway of the kitchen and looked down the hallway, not knowing what to expect until you were sliding backwards across the floor.

"Whoa! That was totally crash!" You finally caught a glimpse of the white and red blob that had run you over. His brown hair looked almost as red as Wally's, that is, it looked like a dog tried styling his hair with his tongue, shooting in twenty different directions. A yellow visor was slipped over his wide eyes, but they didn't block the surprise at seeing you.

"Yes, you did totally crash into me." It took some getting used to when you finally came here to understand everyone's slang, Nightwing was the worst, half of his words did were cut up ones of other words you barely knew already.

His face split into a happy grin, quickly standing up and using his speed to pull you up just as fast. "No, crash means...wait, Mama Dr-" His eyes widened and the next thing to you knew, you were back on your butt with a bleeding nose.

"Ow!" You screeched in pain, your cry causing the people in the room to recoil in pain.

"What have we said about you using that!" Robin's obviously annoyed voice screamed at you, his voice higher than normal, making it obvious he couldn't really hear himself speak with his pained ears.

As much as you wanted to shout back at him, you didn't.

You just didn't.

"Robin, Red-Tail, quit your bickering." You pinched your nose tightly as you looked over to Nightwing, he was holding onto the rouge speedster by the scruff of his uniform like a puppy.

<<<>>>

"Here, Bart, you must have worked up a thirst coming from the future like that." You and Beast Boy looked away from the speedster to see your leader walking into a room with a glass of water in his hand.

Garfield, whom wasn't the brightest grape on the vine introduced himself to you by name the first time you met him, was helping you clean up the blood that was still dripping from your bruised nose.

And Robin had yet to apologize for smacking you in the face with his Bo Staff. But you couldn't really complain because he did manage to shut off the electrical current in the staff before it struck you.

"Oh, well thanks." The speedster, who you now knew was named Bartholomew Allen, similar to Garfield, wouldn't shut up about being Barry Allen's grandson, who was the Flash, another person you now knew the identity of. Give him five more minutes and you'll know who Batman was, and no one knew who he was.

As he was downing the water, his eyes opened once again quickly as he smiled cheekily up at Nightwing, who looked concerned by the speedster's smile. "Oh, I get it. DNA sample. And you need my spit." He then promptly spits back into the cup. "Ha, that is such a Dick Grayson move."

Robin next to you instantly tensed up and looked over to his mentor, the white lenses of his mask were wide with surprise. "How did--"

"See, I know stuff only a future boy would know! Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Garfield Logan," Bart paused and looked at you before he smiled even wider, almost happy to see you. "And Y/N Buteo, although it's been a long time since you've used that name!" Bart's voice sped by and quieted down before he could go on about you.

"Your name is Tim? And yours is...Dick?" Garfield almost cringed next to you as he said Nightwing's name.

"Opps, spoilers." Bart turned his head away, muttering to himself, "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you all in your fighting prime, now if you'll excuse me, buh bye!" He stood up with wave, his hands and feet now free of the hand restraints and sped over to you. "Bye Mama Drake! Love you!"

Your mouth dropped open, staring down at him with wide eyes, "Wh-what!" But he left the compound before you could ask him further.

Robin and Nightwing turned to the computer and began chattering about how to catch him, and calling up someone, leaving you in your own world.

Mama Drake??

You're not a duck, you were a Hawk, obviously since your mom was...

Looking over at Robin, you were replaying what Bart said over and over in your head.

Garfield Logan. You knew that one already.

Dick Grayson, name probably derived from Richard, but that's nothing clicking in your mind.

Tim...probably Timothy, but his last name, Timothy Dra...Drake.

If your mouth could drop any lower, it did.

No...no!

You could feel the cereal slowly rising up your throat. "I think I'm going to be sick." Muttering with your hand pressed to your mouth, you ran from the main room and towards your own, running away from the sudden knowledge following you.

<<<>>>

Mama Drake.

Mama Drake.

Mama Drake.

Mama, mama means mother figure.

Drake.

Drake. Bird, duck. Robin's last name.

Tim Drake...

Mama Drake.

Oh gods of the Falcons, help me...

You have been curled up and leaning up against the wall for the past three hours, your hands pulling endlessly at your H/C hair. All that's been going through your mind was what Bart told you.

Wait. What if you were just over thinking this? He couldn't have meant that. Obviously, what were you thinking? What the heck could you be thinking? You were just jumping to assumptions, he seemed to have a fast mouth.

"I will just speak with him! That is what I will do!" Your confidence was wavering, but you still walked into the main compound room, searching for some sign of the newest speedster.

"Red-Tail," And your confidence was gone. You slowly turned to the voice, with a rosy hue running across your cheeks and the base of your neck.

"Ye-yes Robin?" You didn't want to have this conversation for a plethora of reasons, and yet here you were.

"Nightwing wants to see you in the kitchen." He barely looked at you and then turned away to the direction he came from. "Seemed pretty urgent."

After changing your course of direction as well as your confidence, you arrived in the kitchen and met the white lenses of your leader who was leaning up against the metal fridge. "Red-Tail, good to know you're alive. You kinda disappeared on us once Impulse left, thought you mighta gone after him."

"I...I was not feeling well so I returned to my room. But I am feeling much better now." You bowed your head in apology, thinking only of how you need to get to Bart...wherever he was.

"Hmm, well I needed to talk to you about you and Robin." Even hearing his name now made you a blushing mess. "We have a new mission and it's a duo mission. I'm opting for you and Robin to do this, since you seemed to be the most adept in this kind of mission."

"Um...Nightwing, you are a phenomenal leader and all, but...Robin and I do not appear to be very compatible with each other around the compound, much less so on a mission. I just do not want to jeopardize a mission if we do not appear to see eye to eye." The twiddling of your thumbs should have been a dead giveaway that the idea was an uncomfortable one for you.

"I know, Robin's already said basically the same thing, but we need your two levels of expertise in the arena." Sighing, you didn't answer right away, yes, you were going to say yes, but you mulled it over in your head whether this was a good idea. "Red-Tail I need-" Nightwing kept talking but something in your mind had shifted and you felt your body was no longer under your control.

Your mind screamed at you to talk, shout, scream for help, move, but you couldn't.

Your mind was shutting down.

Your body was falling, and there was nothing you could do about it.

<<<>>>

"Red-Tail, Red-Tale wake up." Groaning, you slowly opened your eyes to be welcomed into a dark room.

As you looked around the room, you saw that you were not in a room, but somewhere what seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Continuing to look around you finally saw the head that was hanging over you, "Robin?"

"Bout time you woke up."

"Well good morning to you too, sunshine." You sat up, groaning at the cramping of your stomach, it felt like you had spent ten hours doing only ab workouts. "Where are we?"

Robin shook his head in answer, his focus mostly on his watch that was telling him there was no connection where he was. "I would love to know that too." He grumbled back, throwing his hands in the air to emphasize his distaste for the current situation.

"Last thing I remember was...Nightwing was telling me the two of us were being sent in a mission, is this it?"

"Well why the heck would he send us on a mission is we don't have any clue what the mission is?!"

"Okay okay." You held your hand up in surrender, standing to your feet to try and find something out. "I will fly to see what I can." Large bird of prey wings materialized behind you, and you were then in the air, the large red tipped wings lifted you into the air and high above the ground below with a grumbling Robin.

Looking around in the dark wasn't as good an idea as you had thought, even with your night vision turned on. Before you could see anything, something shot at you. A red ball of light barrelled towards you, giving you enough time to stop it from hitting you directly. What it did hit was your wing.

Pain was everywhere.

Your wing was blackened and singed, the once brown feathers were now gone, showing the tender and raw skin beneath. Falling from the height you were at hurt your back, you were surprised it wasn't broken.

"Red-Tail!" A voice called out to you as you shakily stood up, their slippery footsteps to your right confirmed their movement towards you. "What happened up there?"

Robin began looking at your wing, his cool glove feeling both painful and soothing when he touched you. "I do not know, something shot me down before I could see anything."

Slowly and very painfully you pulled your wings flush to your back and they morphed back into the sleeves of your jacket where they hid during when your wings weren't needed. "Well I guess that confirms that we aren't alone here."

Nodding, you followed next to him as they walked forward, the both of you holding onto hope that there was a way out if this.

<<<>>>

"Okay, next time Nightwing tells us we are going on a duo mission, just at no!" You were yelling at Robin while the two of you fought off wave after wave of oncoming clones.

The sun hadn't even risen and the two of you were as food as dead. The one thing, ONE thing you've been above to say you found out about this place is that there were clones of the Justice League everywhere you turned. You knew they were clones the minute you stabbed Superman's arm and circuits and wires crackled beneath the fake skin.

"I've taken down at least 3 Batmans so far, he would be proud of me." You heard Robin groan behind you, and you couldn't stop the chuckle slipping past your lips.

For a second you turned your eyes to look at him, seeing him masterfully fighting off a Wonder Woman and Green Lantern at the same time, while you had both Hawk Girl and Hawk Man on your tail.

You had tried many times to before to try reasoning with the clones, but they had no sense of who you were. They fought you as though the fate of the world depended on it. "We really need to ask Nightwing what kind of a mission he thought this was!"

"I second that! We deserve a raise or something!" You shouted back, grunting at the mace brushing your fore arm.

"I say burgers! I know a place!"

"It's a date!" A smile pulled at your lips at the thought of you calling it a date, Bart's words ringing one more time.

Mama Drake.

"Hey, Tim, I have to tell-" A sharp pain stopped your words, your ears slowly began to ring.

Dark eyes stared you down, the eyes of your mentor and best friend, Hawk Girl, a snarl present on her lips.

"No!" Another sharp pain sliced through your abdomen again, the slicing of your stomach the only prominent noise as she pulled a sword out of you. Where did the sword come from?

Your body began to sway back and forth before you feel down, your knees collapsing as you fell to meet the sand below. Warm arms pulled you close to an equally warm and slightly sweaty body before you could touch the ground.

"No, Red-Tail." Robin's voice was unusually soft towards you, it's been growing softer of the past few hours the two of you had been isolated together. "You're gonna be...wow that's really bad."

You chuckled at the young teenager's excuse at trying to comfort you, his own horror setting in before he could finish his thought. "Finish the mission, Tim." Your voice was hoarse as you said his name, glad you got to know the other half of the emotionless Robin, even if it was but his name.

"Not without you, Hawk Girl will kill me if I let you due."

"Looks like she got to me first." Your eyes grew heavy as your breathing shortened and quickened under the stress if your body.

"Hey, hey stay with me."

"Tim, turn arou-" Your voice gave out before you could tell Tim to fight off the Wonder Woman behind him, your eyes shutting down and your mind going dark.

<<<>>>

Air suddenly filled your lungs and you sat up chocking on the influx of oxygen. "She's awake." A familiar motherly voice filled your ears before gentle hands found their way to your cheeks.

Looking up, you met familiar dark eyes as the eyes that had moments who sent a knife through your stomach. A frightened screech left your mouth, you were confused and scared as you scooted yourself away from your mentor, her warm hands leaving your face.

"Y/N, it's me." Her voice. The ones that belonged to the person who killed you.

But you weren't dead.

You were perfectly fine. It all was just...just a dream?

Slowly you looked up to the winged woman you know as your mentor and mother figure, your eyes finally met hers. This Hawk Girl was your Hawk Girl. "H-Hawk Girl?"

"It's me, Y/N. It's me." You released a shaky breath and rubbed your face harshly with your hands.

"How did...what just..."

"Y/N!" A third voice cried out, drawing you to notice that you weren't alone. Batman, Nightwing and M'gann were all crowded around a second metal table with a struggling Robin. "Where's Y/N?!"

"Tim." Whispering you slid your legs over the edge of the metal table and stepping over to the table. "Tim." You spoke with much more fervour and volume, your steps slow as you approached the other table.

"Y/N!" Tim met you in the middle, pulling your body close to his own. "I thought you were...I saw you...you were dead!" You tried pulling yourself away from him, but he wouldn't let go. He had you right where he needed you to be.

"Robin, Red-Tail. You need to know." M'gann floated to the two of you, you moved your head to see her, but your grip never loosened on the boy in your arms. "Nightwing, your mentors and I all agreed that you two needed to undergo one of the team training mind simulations. We just...I didn't think it would affect either of you. Robin...you...wait where are you two going?" Robin pulled you from the room, M'gann and the others calling behind you.

"Robin," Your voice meek as you watch him gently tug you behind him, leading you to a quieter part of the compound.

Once he pushed the door closed behind him, Tim turned back around and stared at you, or at least you think he was staring. He stared at you for a few seconds more before he pulled you close to him again, hugging you even tighter than when you last hugged him.

"I thought I lost you." He murmured into your hair, his fingers pulling through your H/C hair. You pulled away from where you kept your face hidden in his shoulder to stare up at him.

"Why...why are you being so nice to me?" You questioned his sudden change in demeanor, especially in such a short time. "I...I guess I don't mind? But really, why?"

"Honestly, it was watching you get shot out of the sky. I saw you falling and I just...something clicked. I don't know what it was, but I feel...so different." A shiver ran down your back as his hands moved to rest under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards, allowing him to see your face fully. "And watching you die...I snapped."

You didn't let him finish before you raised your height ever so slightly on your tiptoes to kiss him.

Tim kissed you back as soon as you began it, swiping his finger across your jaw. You left your arms around his waist, hooking your hands together as if to tether the two of you close. He said he was afraid of letting you go, but you couldn't stop the ache in your chest when you watch Winder Woman attack him from behind.

Pulling back, you hummed happily before smiling up at him. "You remember Bartholomew from this morning?"

He chuckled at your question, twirling a piece of hair around his finger, "Of course I do, he caused a heck of a lot of trouble over in Central City."

"Well, when he got loose he um...he said something to me. He told me as he was rushing out, 'Love you, Mama Drake'." Tim's eyes seemed to shrink as he mulled the words, either thinking of thanking or murdering the brunette speedster.

"As in..." Your smile was answer enough, "Well then, I'm glad the troublemaker showed up." The two of you started laughing before Tim leaned down again to capture your lips

[vegetacide]

Cloak and Dagger

Veg●notable: Okay, I had a little fun with this and took a few liberties with one of the boys… It worked for I wanted but I am not sure how it will be received... ::ducks behind a Tracy so she doesn’t get hit with anything...::

Also I am kinda being a pantser with this chapter.. I have a general idea of where I want it to go but I didn’t suss it out like I have in other chapters so please excuse if the pacing if off. I kinda let the Boys tell me where they wanted to go and what sort of interactions they wanted to have….and they may have gone a bit off course..

As per the norm.. All errors and such are my own.

Read, review, like, reblog.. Whatever the platform, it is very, very much appreciated and it all acts as my motivational fuel.

Previous Chapters

Intro  | One  |  Two 

Chapter 3: Games 

Enjoy!

o0o

Scott drummed his fingers along the careworn surface of his father’s desk, his gaze lost to the middle distance as he thought over the information that had just been brought to him. Not that there was much, which was the problem in and of itself.

Kayo and Lady Penelope had had very little to tell him. After Fuse’s botched attempt at the old, disused power plant to obtain nuclear material he’d just up and disappeared. Their security expert and London agent had been traipsing around the globe trying to track down leads for weeks now but there was no sign of the Chaos member, his sister or for that matter the Hood… anywhere..at all.

For the Hood on his own, it wasn’t that unusual. The criminal would go quiet for a spell and not resurface for months. Now that he was with the Crew, that was an entirely different story.

Normal some tidbit of information would crop up of a sighting in some far corner of the world, or a rumour of some heist or another would drift about on the dark web. Either Lady P would poke at it to figure out if it was worth further effort or Kayo would get a call from the GDF to check with some contacts but everything had gone silent. There was nothing, no where.

Scott looked up at the muted holo-cast. A variation of the same headline scrolled along under the chrome anchors’ desk and something in the pit of his stomach tightened. This eerie feeling of foreboding had been dogging him since the plant and he just knew this wasn’t going to end well.

Picking up an old school stylus that for some reason his father had kept even with the advent of modern computer interfaces, Scott examined its length. His father had owned it for as long as he could remember. He’d once asked Jeff why he insisted on keeping it and his father had smiled in that way he did and had said that ‘somethings were just worth keeping.’ He hadn’t elaborated in any other way or given any other hint to his reasoning after that. It left Scott scratching his head in confusion.

Even now all these years later he still didn’t understand though as he looked at the smooth finish and felt the weight of it between his fingers, he could understand its appeal. It provided something tangible to hold on to, tactile.

In his case not only physically but it also provided him with a psychologically connection to the man they all missed so much. A man he truly wished was with them right now.

Maybe the great Jeff Tracy would be able to wrap his head around all this, come out with a master plan so at the end of the day the world was a better, safer place. Scott certainly didn’t think he had the chops to do it himself. Self doubt was a bitch especially when there was no supporting hand to guide you.

His father was going to come home, Scott knew that for sure. WIth Brains basically locked away working on the zero-x engine it was only a matter of time. Scott just hoped that when they got their father back…. Why was he even thinking about this? Setting the stylus back down, he rubbed at the back of his head in hopes of dispelling the direction of his thoughts. This was not helping.

Snagging his forgotten cup of coffee, he took a swig and grimaced. Cold and it was the good stuff from Virgil’s hidden stash behind the lima bean in the pantry. Eyeballing the drink with its thin layer of cream film on top, he sighed and tossed the rest back. It was too much effort to haul his ass downstairs for a fresh cup, besides his brother would kick his butt if he were to find out he knew of the existence of the rich, smoky ground beans and had wasted it. Better to just suck it up and deal with the cold brew then risk the engineer’s wrath.

“Thunderbird 5 to base.”

“Hey John,” Scott greeted with the raise of his now empty coffee mug. “What’s up?”

“Just letting you know Grandma is on approach. Will be there in t-minus 5”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

John nodded in return and they sat in silence for a moment. By the controlled look on John’s face Scott could tell that the monitor was working up to say something more. Leaning back in his chair, he cocked a foot over one knee and steepled his fingers as his brother processed whatever it was that was on his mind.

Scott didn’t want to push but time was ticking. “Johnny….?” He knew the use of his brother’s childhood nickname would get the ball rolling.

John’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the moniker but the redhead let it slide. “How’s it going down there?”

Scott dropped his hands, pushed up to his feet and walked the short distance to the sunken seating area. “As well as can be expected.” Taking the steps down he parked on his usually couch with a heavy sigh. Sinking into the cushions with a slouch and tossing an arm up and over the back.

“That sounds...” John paused as he searched for the appropriate word, “to steal a phrase from Alan.. craptastic.”

One shoulder went up in a shrug and Scott dragged in a deep breathe. “Ya, well. Shitty situation but you know how these things go. Time and space and all that.”

“Time and space?” A smirk settled on John’s face. “This coming from you. Eos mark down the time and date. Scott is being reasonable”

“Time and date noted, John.” Came the young voice of the A.I. “I have also taken the liberty of recording this interaction for posterity in the likelihood that you want to revisit the momentous occasion.”

John chuckled as the light ring came into the view field of the camera. The array of little lights flashing in what Scott could only conclude as amusement at his cost. The A.I was learning and learning fast and Scott didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Hardy har.” A dry sound, accompanied by an eye roll. “Am I really that bad?”

The stare and awestruck look he received by way of answer should have been enough.”Aw, come on…”

“If smother hen was in the dictionary, Scott. You would be the picture beside it.” It was said rather frankly and that irked Scott into yet another eyeroll. “Matter of fact, it might actually already be in Urban Dictionary..”

“Okay. Okay..I get it. Enough already.” Scott’s boredom and disdain at the direction of the conversation wasn’t hard to miss. “I can’t help it. I worry about all of you.”

John took pity on his elder brother, the smile leaving his face. “I know you do, Scott. Especially when it’s Virgil.”

Scott sagged further into the couch.

“We all need to fall apart every now and again. The same applies to Virgil.” John spoke, his voice carrying across the distance. “As much as we rely on him to be the family rock, even a rock wears down over time when enough stress is applied.”

“Ya, I know. You’re right.” Scott leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he looked at the floor. “I just wish…” He didn’t finish his train of thought.

“Scott, he’ll be fine. Just give him the room to breath and in a day or two he will be right as rain again. He needs to stew this over a bit.” John shifted his gaze away from the cam, his projected hand skimming over something off screen.

“Well from what Brain’s has told me, Virgil has him doing system checks on all the wash-bays. Maybe an answer will be there for him.”

“You talked to Brain?”

“Yes, just before calling you. He wanted me to look at some computations. Double check his math and he didn’t want to bother Virgil with it” Floating about the space station some 22,000 kilomitres above them, John glaced backup a moment. “Why? Haven’t you talked to him?”

Scott sat up a bit straighter, sheepishly ashamed that the yelling the night before had sent the mousy genus into hiding in the bowels of the island. “Not since we got back..”

“Oh,” John failed to hide the nonplussed expression that flashed across the screen. “Glad I was off world last night than..:”

“Jay, you’re always off world”

John couldn’t say anything to counter that and Scott knew it. The star obsessed Tracy rarely made landfall and Scott tried to think back on how long it had been since the astronaut had been forced to submit to some down time.

“Scott, you’re getting that look in your eyes again.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I need to smother’ look that comes with the forehead wrinkles of the elderly.. Don’t you dare set your sights on me. I am needed up here with full access to all of 5’s systems and you know it.”

Scott put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to have another sibling forcibly shutting him out. “Message received and watched the old person jokes. They are laugh lines not stress.. The hair though, that’s all from you guys.”

John looked off camera again and his expression changed from brotherly bemusement to curious. “Aunt Val is reaching out. I’ll patch her though.”

Scott cursed under his breath and ignored the admonishing glare from space. Seemed he hadn’t sworn as quietly as he thought, good thing Gran….

“Scott Bartholomew Carpenter Tracy!”

Scott flinched at the sudden loud bark of reproach directed his way as his Grandmother marched into the room, fire and brimstone in her wake. “You were not raised in a barn, young man.” Crap, his diminutive elder was not impressed, especially if she broke out the little known and seldom used ‘Bartholomew.’

He was the only brother out of the five to be graced with the additionally middle name, gifted to him as the first born from his great, great Grandfather. A Tribute to a war vet that his father had been blessed with as well and one that made Scott shudder every time he heard it.

“Well technically… “John piped up earning him a warning glare from Scott.

“Gee John, thanks for the warning.. “ Scott grumbled with little enthusiasm and dripping with sarcastic annoyance.

“I did,” John blinked.

Scott contemplated several ways to seek revenge over the tirade of the fierce and feisty Sally Tracy and most of them involved airlocks and a module full of moldy bagels.

John did his level best to hide his smile at the misfortune of the eldest. “I told you she was on approach and you know she has the ears of a bat, Scooter.”

Scott glared at the space nut but all he got in return was a very large grin before the monitor disappeared and the 3D rendition of his Godmother materialized.

“Colonel Casey” Scott acknowledges, his Grandmother patted his knee in greeting and settled down on the couch beside him, the vexed look still sparking in her cerulean gaze.

“Valerie,” His Grandma piped up. “You’re a sight for sore eyes”

“Scott. Sally.” A crisp, formal acknowledgement. Definitely a business call.

The tone made Scott straighten his spine, posture ramrodding as his years of military training kicked in. Pushing to his feet, the Commander of International Rescue took up the forefront of his mind. The dilemma of the current Tracy drama brushed aside as the call to arms; so to speak, was issued by his honorary Aunt’s projected persona.

“What can I do for you, Colonel Casey?”

“Orders come down the pipe, Scott. General Abner informed me this afternoon that World Council has declared Kazakhstan a no fly zone. All personnel, both combative and civilian are on evac orders effective immediately. As of 23:00, anything in or outbound found crossing restrictive airspace will be termed hostile and dealt with accordingly.”

“And as our liaison..?” Scott asked, bracing for the answer that he feared.

“I’ve been advised to inform you that the restriction extends to International Rescue as well. Under no circumstance is International; Rescue to enter that airspace. Any action will be seen as an act of aggression against the WC and those perpetrating said act are to be shot down.”

“Noted.”

“Scott, you need to abide by this ruling. This is from way up the food chain. There will be nothing I can do to help you if these orders are disregarded. “ Casey stressed. “You will be on your own.I’ve also been instructed that anyone aiding and abetting is to be brought in and prosecuted under the full force of the law.”

Meaning, the whole family would be under threat and the whole might of the GDF would be pointed in their direction. Even though they claimed no allegiance to any known entity, International Rescue and by turn the Tracy’s would be marked as traitors “I understand Colonel.”

Essentially the country has been walled off and Scott wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He just hoped that there would be no call out for iR in the vicinity of the damned country but he knew from experience hopes and wishes were very seldom taken into consideration.

-o-o-

Some 6,500km away, tucked under a remote mountain village on the furthest edge of Kazakhstan a display monitor beeped to life with the flow of garish, green text. Servos hummed, fans ticked on and a smile crept across the harshly angled face with amber eyes.

Piece by piece plans that had taken months to arrange were finally starting to come together. Money had passed hands, people had been bought, information exchanged and like pawns on a chessboard, the players were shifting into their places.

Looking at the board, the queen slipped into place and unbeknownst to all but one, the king now sat vulnerable. The end was in sight.

Let the games begin.

TBC

[animationtobystevenson]

Dr Seuss/Re-imagine

 About Dr Seuss:

Background data, education and employment:

Dr Seuss was born March 2nd, 1904, in Springfield, Massachusetts, United States and died at the age of 87 September 24th, 1991 in La Jolla, California, United States. At age 18, Geisel left home to go to Dartmouth College, where he became the editor in chief of a magazine called “Its humour, Jack-O-Lantern”. He was kicked off the magazine staff due to being caught drinking in his dorm. After graduating from Dartmouth College, Geisel attended Oxford University in England, with hopes to become a professor. In 1927, he dropped out of Oxford without earning a degree to properly pursue his career in illustration and cartoons. During this year he married his wife who he met at University and moved back to the United States. In addition to producing books he also produced and designed animated cartoons for television, most of which were based on his books, he even won Emmy Awards for some of his cartoons. In 1942, for the U.S. war effort, he worked drawing posters for the Treasury Department and the War Production Board. Later in 1943, he joined the Army where he was commander of the first motion picture unit of the United States army air force, where he wrote films such as “Your Job In Germany”, “Design For Death” and the “Private Snafu” series.

Dr Seuss Images:

Springfield Massachusetts:

La Jolla California:

Dartmouth College:

Oxford University:

His books:

His first children's book was published in 1937 titled “and to think that I saw it on mulberry street”, however, during World War II he stopped his work on children's books for a short time and focused more on working in an animation department for the US Army where many short films were produced, amongst these films the short film “design for death” was created which won the academy award for best documentary feature in 1947. After the war, he worked on children's books again, including the children's books from before and after the second world war,  Many of His books express his views on a diverse amount of political and social issues, for example, The Lorax 1971 is about environmentalism where the message is to be more green and environmentally friendly, The Sneetches in 1961 is about racial equality where people of all races should be treated faily and equally, The Butter Battle Book in 1984 is about the nuclear arms race between the USA and the USSR, Yertle the Turtle in 1958 is  about Adolf Hitler and anti-authoritarianism, How the Grinch Stole Christmas in 1957 is about how materialism and consumerism take over during the season of the Christmas, and finally Horton Hears a Who in 1954 is about anti-isolationism and internationalism.

this is what he produced in chronological order;

And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street 1937

The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins 1938

The Seven Lady Godivas 1939

The King's Stilts 1939

Horton Hatches the Egg 1940

McElligot's Pool 1947

Thidwick the Big-Hearted Moose 1948

Bartholomew and the Oobleck 1949

If I Ran the Zoo 1950

Gerald McBoing Boing 1950

Yertle the Turtle and Other Stories 1950

Scrambled Eggs Super! 1953

Horton Hears a Who! 1954

On Beyond Zebra! 1955

If I Ran the Circus 1956

The Cat in the Hat 1957

How the Grinch Stole Christmas! 1957

The Cat in the Hat Comes Back 1958

Happy Birthday to You! 1959

One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish 1960

Green Eggs and Ham 1960

The Sneetches and Other Stories 1961

Dr Seuss's Sleep Book 1962

Dr Seuss's ABC 1963

Hop on Pop 1963

Fox in Socks 1965

I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew 1965

The Cat in the Hat Song Book 1967

The Foot Book 1968

I Can Lick 30 Tigers Today! and Other Stories 1969

My Book about ME 1969

I Can Draw It Myself 1970

Mr Brown Can Moo! Can You?: Dr Seuss's Book of Wonderful Noises! 1970

The Lorax 1971

Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now! 1972

Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are? 1973

The Shape of Me and Other Stuff 1973

There's a Wocket in My Pocket! 1974

Great Day for Up! 1974

Oh, the Thinks You Can Think! 1975

The Cat's Quizzer1976

I Can Read with My Eyes Shut! 1978

Oh, Say Can You Say? 1979

Hunches in Bunches1982

The Butter Battle Book 1984

You're Only Old Once! 1986

I Am Not Going to Get Up Today! 1987

The Tough Coughs as He Ploughs the Dough 1987

Oh, the Places You'll Go! 1990

What inspired him creatively?

Dr Seuss was on a ship travelling from Europe back to the United States, whilst on the ship, he was listening to the engine of the sound going thump thump thump, the rhythm inspired him to write his first children's book.

Seuss spent a few years in Paris producing surrealist paintings with Salvador Dalí and Paul Klee, a lot of his illustrations were designed to be surreal which further pushed his creative mind to the work of children's’ books.

Whenever Dr Suess walked out the door of his home at 74 Fairfield St streetcar bells rattled, the engines of locally built automobiles hummed and wooden barrels hitting the cobblestone pathways. These were all inspirations of interesting sounds which could be used during illustrations.

Dr Seuss also explored many natural spaces of local forests and parks, his creative mind gathered and combined the fascinations from everyday life. He used to visit many zoos with his mother when growing up so he would draw animals with creative and unique names to place upon his bedroom walls.

What is Dr. Seuss most recognised for?

Seuss was remembered for a lot of reasons but mainly his rhyming was very infectious and unique to his own writing style, also his stories were very creative and short which would appeal to a younger audience, his use of language was also interesting yet basic this would also appeal to a younger demographic due to the stories being easier to understand. HIs illustrations were very cartoony and unrealistic, the characters tended to have big eyes and look very friendly.

What work brought him the most success?

The three books which brought him the most success include;

3. One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish in (1960), This rhyming book is considered a Dr Seuss classic. It sold 6,164,454 copies.

2.  The Cat in the Hat in (1957), This book is probably the most known Dr Seuss book due to its creative story but also the 2003 movie starring Mike Myers. It sold 7,220,982 copies.

1.  Green Eggs and Ham in (1960), This book is known as the most classic Dr Seuss book of all time, this book probably did so well due to it appealing to a wide target audience of all ages and both genders with catchy lines that are repeated throughout the book. It sold  8,143,088 copies.

Dr Seusses work in other mediums;

His work first started in books using Dr Seuss’s words with illustrations on the cover of the book, this then developed into books but with illustrations on most/every page, this way was more successful since it looked more visually appealing. 

Another way Dr Seuss’s books were portrayed was through simple 2D drawn animation with some drastic movement, this method was introduced during the mid 20th century.

Dr Seusse’s stories were also told by live-action film for example in 2000 the Grinch who stole Christmas and in 2003 the cat in the hat.

The final and most recent form of how his stories were portrayed was by 3D animation or “CGI”, this method was first used for a Dr Seuss story was in 2008 with the movie Horton Hears a Who by the company Fox then in 2012 with the movie the Lorax by the company illumination, even in late 2018 a new Dr Seuss movie called the Grinch is going to be produced.

Research – Context 2

Through reading and listening to multiple Dr Seuss books his style comes across as very creative with a set colour theme for each story, these stories tend to be very short which would appeal to a younger audience since they have a shorter attention span.

The three pieces of work by Dr Seuss which appeal to me;

1. If I Ran The Zoo

2. The Lorax

3. The Eye Book

I chose The Lorax since the characters were interesting but also I like the message of being environmentally friendly.

I chose The Eye Book since it was simple to follow and had some fluent rhyming, I also like the use of juxtaposition throughout the book since this made the book more interesting and explores the many different objects eyes can see.

Out of his three pieces of work I have chosen, the one of which I like the most would be If I Ran The Zoo.

What is the narrative/topics of the book?

The purpose of this book is to entertain, it highlights the fact that nothing or no one is the same by showing how certain individuals would run the zoo differently, I like this book more than the others since I like how creative the names of the creatures are but also all the interesting places the main character travels to and how each creature has something unique about them, for example, the character goes to many different climates to find certain creatures this could also be Dr Seuss’s way of telling the reader to be determined to try and accomplish an aim or objective. Also since the child is telling the story this would relate to the target audience who are most likely reading his books, in addition, I like the amount of rhyming in this book, in my opinion, some books contain too much rhyming or drag on something for too long but I find this book to be fast-paced and it remains interesting throughout the whole journey of how Gerald McGrew would run the zoo. Dr Seuss also sticks to a simple colour palette of white, black, red, blue and yellow throughout the whole book with no look of green or purple, also the first thing the main character does when he imagines himself being the zookeeper is releasing all of the animals and by the end of the book all of the animals are free roaming around the zoo whilst smiling, this could show that Dr Seuss is against animal cruelty and feels sympathetic towards animals trapped in zoos. The characters look creatively drawn with very exaggerated features for example when describing the Deers he draws the horns in an unusual way.

Finally, this book is a very personal story to Dr Seuss since when he was younger he used to visit zoos often and think of creative new creatures which would be interesting to look at. 

The main characters/character:

The main characters consist of Gerald McGrew who is telling the story and the Zookeeper who listens, Gerald is represented as a creative child who is inquisitive and imaginative, Gerald’s appearance is made up of a red tie with a quite posh outfit suggesting he comes from an upper-class background, however, throughout the book he changes his appearance into the zookeepers clothes which could show that children can be just as capable as adults the quote “Adults are just obsolete children” from Dr Seuss supports that this was his idea coming through the work of the book. The zookeeper isn’t really given much of a personality but is dressed up as a typical zookeeper with a red hat, red tie, black blazer and striped trousers, the character also has a moustache and is chubby with a smug look on his face throughout the story.

In particular, I like the verse 

“ I’ll bag a big bug

Who is very surprising,

A feller who has 

A propeller for rising

And zooming around

Making cross-country hops,

From Texas to Boston

With only two stops. 

Now that sort of thing

For a bug is just tops!” 

I like this verse since it clearly describes the feature of the character and how powerful it is, I also find that this would be fun to animate. On the next page, another verse is interesting which could be fun to animate, the verse goes 

“And when I’ve Caught him,

Then the next thing you’ll know 

I’ll go and I’ll capture

A wild Tick-Tack-Toe,

With X’s that win

And with Zeros that lose. 

He’ll look mighty good

In this Zoo of McGrew’s.”

I like this verse since I could animate the zeros always losing and create my own version of how the creature looks, I could also animate the creature from the previous verse being captured maybe have them hop into a net.

[justforbooks]

Fats Domino, the New Orleans rhythm-and-blues singer whose two-fisted boogie-woogie piano and nonchalant vocals, heard on dozens of hits, made him one of the biggest stars of the early rock ’n’ roll era, has died in Louisiana. He was 89.

His death was confirmed by his brother-in-law and former road manager Reggie Hall, who said he had no other details. Mr. Domino lived in Harvey, La., across the Mississippi River from New Orleans.

Mr. Domino had more than three dozen Top 40 pop hits through the 1950s and early ’60s, among them “Blueberry Hill,” “Ain’t It a Shame” (also known as “Ain’t That a Shame,” which is the actual lyric), “I’m Walkin’,” “Blue Monday” and “Walkin’ to New Orleans.” Throughout he displayed both the buoyant spirit of New Orleans, his hometown, and a droll resilience that reached listeners worldwide.

He sold 65 million singles in those years, with 23 gold records, making him second only to Elvis Presley as a commercial force. Presley acknowledged Mr. Domino as a predecessor.

“A lot of people seem to think I started this business,” Presley told Jet magazine in 1957. “But rock ’n’ roll was here a long time before I came along. Nobody can sing that music like colored people. Let’s face it: I can’t sing it like Fats Domino can. I know that.”

Rotund and standing 5 feet 5 inches — he would joke that he was as wide as he was tall — Mr. Domino had a big, infectious grin, a fondness for ornate, jewel-encrusted rings and an easygoing manner in performance; even in plaintive songs his voice had a smile in it. And he was a master of the wordless vocal, making hits out of songs full of “woo-woos” and “la-las.”

Working with the songwriter, producer and arranger David Bartholomew, Mr. Domino and his band carried New Orleans parade rhythms into rock ’n’ roll and put a local stamp on nearly everything they touched, even country tunes like “Jambalaya” or big-band songs like “My Blue Heaven” and “When My Dreamboat Comes Home.”

Antoine Dominique Domino Jr. was born on Feb. 26, 1928, the youngest of eight children in a family with Creole roots. He grew up in the Ninth Ward of New Orleans, where he spent most of his life.

Music filled his life from the age of 10, when his family inherited an old piano. After his brother-in-law Harrison Verrett, a traditional-jazz musician, wrote down the notes on the keys and taught him a few chords, Antoine threw himself at the instrument — so enthusiastically that his parents moved it to the garage.

He was almost entirely self-taught, picking up ideas from boogie-woogie masters like Meade Lux Lewis, Pinetop Smith and Amos Milburn. “Back then I used to play everybody’s records; everybody’s records who made records,” he told the New Orleans music magazine Offbeat in 2004. “I used to hear ’em, listen at ’em five, six, seven, eight times and I could play it just like the record because I had a good ear for catchin’ notes and different things.”

He attended the Louis B. Macarty School but dropped out in the fourth grade to work as an iceman’s helper. “In the houses where people had a piano in their rooms, I’d stop and play,” he told USA Today in 2007. “That’s how I practiced.”

In his teens, he started working at a club called the Hideaway with a band led by the bassist Billy Diamond, who nicknamed him Fats. Mr. Domino soon became the band’s frontman and a local draw.

“Fats was breaking up the place, man,” Mr. Bartholomew told The Cleveland Plain Dealer in 2010. “He was singing and playing the piano and carrying on. Everyone was having a good time. When you saw Fats Domino, it was ‘Let’s have a party!’ ”

He added: “My first impression was a lasting impression. He was a great singer. He was a great artist. And whatever he was doing, nobody could beat him.”

In 1947 Mr. Domino married Rosemary Hall, and they had eight children, Antoine III, Anatole, Andre, Anonio, Antoinette, Andrea, Anola and Adonica. His wife died in 2008. A complete list of survivors was not immediately available.

In 1949 Mr. Bartholomew brought Lew Chudd, the owner of Imperial Records in Los Angeles, to the Hideaway. Mr. Chudd signed Mr. Domino on the spot, with a contract, unusual for the time, that paid royalties rather than a one-time purchase of songs.

Immediately, Mr. Domino and Mr. Bartholomew wrote “The Fat Man,” a cleaned-up version of a song about drug addiction called “Junkers Blues,” and recorded it with Mr. Bartholomew’s studio band. By 1951 it had sold a million copies.

Mr. Domino’s trademark triplets, picked up from “It’s Midnight,” a 1949 record by the boogie-woogie pianist and singer Little Willie Littlefield, appeared on his next rhythm-and-blues hit, “Every Night About This Time.” The technique spread like wildfire, becoming a virtual requirement for rock ’n’ roll ballads.

“Fats made it popular,” Mr. Bartholomew told Rick Coleman, the author of “Blue Monday: Fats Domino and the Lost Dawn of Rock ’n’ Roll” (2006). “Then it was on every record.”

In 1952, on a chance visit to Cosimo Matassa’s recording studio in New Orleans, Mr. Domino was asked to help out on a recording by a nervous teenager named Lloyd Price. Sitting in with Mr. Bartholomew’s band, he came up with the memorable piano part for “Lawdy Miss Clawdy,” one of the first rhythm-and-blues records to cross over into the pop charts.

Through the early 1950s Mr. Domino turned out a stream of hits, taking up what seemed like permanent residence in the upper reaches of the R&B charts. His records began reaching the pop charts as well.

In that racially segregated era, white performers used his hits to build their careers. In 1955, “Ain’t It a Shame” became a No. 1 hit for Pat Boone as “Ain’t That a Shame,” while Domino’s arrangement of a traditional song, “Bo Weevil,” was imitated by Teresa Brewer.

Mr. Domino’s appeal to white teenagers broadened as he embarked on national tours and appeared with mixed-race rock ’n’ roll revues like the Moondog Jubilee of Stars Under the Stars, presented by the disc jockey Alan Freed at Ebbets Field in Brooklyn. Appearances on national television, on Steve Allen and Ed Sullivan’s shows, put him in millions of living rooms.

He did not flaunt his status as an innovator, or as an architect of a powerful cultural movement.

“Fats, how did this rock ’n’ roll all get started anyway?” an interviewer for a Hearst newsreel asked him in 1957. Mr. Domino answered: “Well, what they call rock ’n’ roll now is rhythm and blues. I’ve been playing it for 15 years in New Orleans.”

At a news conference in Las Vegas in 1969, after resuming his performing career, Elvis Presley interrupted a reporter who had called him “the king.” He pointed to Mr. Domino, who was in the room, and said, “There’s the real king of rock ’n’ roll.”

Mr. Domino had his biggest hit in 1956 with his version of “Blueberry Hill,” a song that had been recorded by Glenn Miller’s big band in 1940. It peaked at No. 2 on the pop charts and sold a reported three million copies.

“I liked that record ’cause I heard it by Louis Armstrong and I said, ‘That number gonna fit me,’ ” he told Offbeat. “We had to beg Lew Chudd for a while. I told him I wasn’t gonna make no more records till they put that record out. I could feel it, that it was a hit, a good record.”

He followed with two more Top Five pop hits: “Blue Monday” and “I’m Walkin’,” which outsold the version recorded by Ricky Nelson.

“I was lucky enough to write songs that carry a good beat and tell a real story that people could feel was their story, too — something that old people or the kids could both enjoy,” Mr. Domino told The Los Angeles Times in 1985.

Mr. Domino performed in 1950s movies like “Shake, Rattle and Rock,” “The Big Beat” (for which he and Mr. Bartholomew wrote the title song) and “The Girl Can’t Help It.” In 1957, he toured for three months with Chuck Berry, Clyde McPhatter, the Moonglows and others.

Well into the early 1960s, Mr. Domino continued to reach both the pop and rhythm-and-blues charts with songs like “Whole Lotta Lovin’,” “I’m Ready,” “I’m Gonna Be a Wheel Someday,” “Be My Guest,” “Walkin’ to New Orleans” and “My Girl Josephine.”

He toured Europe for the first time in 1962 and met the Beatles in Liverpool, before they were famous. His contract with Imperial ended in 1963, and he went on to record for ABC-Paramount, Mercury, Broadmoor, Reprise and other labels.

His last appearance in the pop Top 100 was in 1968, with a version of “Lady Madonna,” the Beatles song that had been inspired by Mr. Domino’s piano-pounding style. In 1982, he had a country hit with “Whiskey Heaven.”

Although he was no longer a pop sensation, Mr. Domino continued to perform worldwide and appeared for 10 months a year in Las Vegas in the mid-1960s. On tour, he would bring his own pots and pans so he could cook.

His life on the road ended in the early 1980s, when he decided that he did not want to leave New Orleans, saying it was the only place where he liked the food.

He went on to perform regularly at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, and in 1987 Jerry Lee Lewis and Ray Charles joined him for a Cinemax special, “Fats Domino and Friends.” He released a holiday album, “Christmas Is a Special Day,” in 1993.

Reclusive and notoriously resistant to interview requests, Mr. Domino stayed home even when he was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1986 as one of its first members. He did the same when he received a lifetime achievement Grammy Award in 1987. In 1999, when he was awarded the National Medal of Arts,he sent his daughter Antoinette to the White House to pick up the prize.

He even refused to leave New Orleans when Hurricane Katrina devastated the city on Aug. 29, 2005, remaining at his flooded home — he was living in the Lower Ninth Ward then — until he was rescued by helicopter on Sept. 1.

“I wasn’t too nervous” about waiting to be saved, he told The New York Times in 2006. “I had my little wine and a couple of beers with me; I’m all right.”

His rescue was loosely the basis for “Saving Fats,” a tall tale in Sam Shepard’s 2010 short-story collection, “Day Out of Days.”

President George W. Bush visited Mr. Domino’s home in 2006 in recognition of New Orleans’s cultural resilience; that same year, Mr. Domino released “Alive and Kickin,’ ” his first album in more than a decade. The title song began, “All over the country, people want to know / Whatever happened to Fats Domino,” then continued, “I’m alive and kicking and I’m where I wanna be.”

He was often seen around New Orleans, emerging from his pink-roofed mansion driving a pink Cadillac. “I just drink my little beers, do some cookin’, anything I feel like ” he told The Daily Telegraph of London in 2007, describing his retirement.

In 1953, in Down Beat magazine, the Atlantic Records producer Jerry Wexler made a bold-sounding prediction that turned out to be, in retrospect, quite timid. “Can’t you envision a collector in 1993 discovering a Fats Domino record in a Salvation Army depot and rushing home to put it on the turntable?” he wrote. “We can. It’s good blues, it’s good jazz, and it’s the kind of good that never wears out.”

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com