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nothingunrealistic · 2 years

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Talking about your acting, you are a member of the cast of Billions.

I am. I’m very lucky to be a member of that cast.

Oh, you’re wonderful on that Showtime series. For those who may not have seen it, it’s this very intense drama about New York politics and high finance, with some wicked humor interwoven.

Brian Koppelman and David Levien, the creators of the show, are some of the smartest, most in-depth people I’ve ever met, but also two of the funniest guys, where it’s so much fun in between takes just to go over and just, you know, pal around with them, and talk about anything.

We have a clip of, with your character, Mafee —

Yeah, Dudley Mafee.

Dudley Mafee. Let’s listen to it.

MAFEE: Hey, Axe, you know what today is? It’s **** Todd Krakow in the ear day. AXE: Why do you think I’d want to do that? MAFEE: That panel was Godzilla versus Mothra. AXE: Do you have a plan? Or are we just gonna jump him and break his kneecaps when he gets out of his McLaren? MAFEE: Okay, so Krakow’s been running his mouth about China, right? I… You can tell the way he talks. AXE: The way he talks? MAFEE: Yeah. Last year, he said, “watching factories grow.” It made me wonder, “How’s he seeing this?” AXE: Really, Mafee? You expect me to believe you suddenly swapped Ali G reruns for videos of Todd Krakow’s speeches on China? MAFEE: Okay. My analyst caught it.

How did you land the part of Dudley Mafee?

Luck. But also, they, Brian and David, I’ve known for years, and they had me come in and audition for the pilot, and…

Ah, so they had you in mind.

Yeah, and I came in for the pilot, and there wasn’t… I came back in several times, and there was one actor that they didn’t secure for a role, and they were like, “We think we’re gonna give you this role,” but it was a little out of my depth, and we kinda both knew that. It was one of the main roles. Not, you know, it wasn’t Axe or Chuck, but it was, it was a role that was more prominent. And then they got the actor they wanted, and so they called me and they said, “Listen, we would like to have you in the pilot. We could have you as a one-off. Or if we go to series, we’d like to write you a role.” You know, and you look at the cast, like, it’s Paul Giamatti, Damian Lewis, Maggie Siff, Malin Akerman, David Costabile. It’s like, you guys are going to series. I’ll put my money on that. And it did, and then they came up with the character of Mafee, which originally was, I think, just supposed to be kind of, like, a limited part, just a guy at Axe Capital, you know, just at Axe’s shop. And then they grew it, and I’ve been very lucky where they’ve taken the character. And then, you know, the addition of Taylor to the cast was a thing where, that scene that you just played was the introduction to Taylor, to Axe, and that has been a great storyline throughout the series, which really heated up at the end of season 3. So we’ve been filming season 4, and it’s, I’m very excited. March 17th, it’ll be back out, and it’s gonna be good.

Oh, I can’t wait to see it. Now, the show has a big cast, consisting of the prosecutor side with Paul Giamatti and the hedge fund side where your character works for Bobby Axelrod. It seems that in the beginning, indeed your character was a smaller role for comic relief, and then, clearly, because a whole lot of people were impressed with your work —

Oh, I hope. I mean, that’s a very nice way to think of it.

They expanded it. So you work for Bobby Axelrod, played by this great British actor Damian Lewis.

One of the best.

And talk about dialect! How do the Brits do it?

And then when we try, it looks so sloppy.

Dick van Dyke!

It looks so bad. Yeah, it looks, it looks so bad when we try it. But the one thing that I can say about the Billions cast is, top to bottom, it’s filled with some of the most talented people I’ve ever been around, from Condola Rashad, to Kelly AuCoin, to Asia Kate Dillon, to Daniel Isaac. There’s all these people that are just these small, little parts of Billions, but then you pan back and you realize, it makes the whole universe work with Billions. But there’s so much talent that it's just — like I said, I’m a comedian first, and probably always will be. And just to be around those people and to learn how to act is, it’s unbelievable. It’s such a great opportunity.

Are there some especially funny stories you can share with us? All public radio-friendly?

Yes, Season 1, there was a scene that they cut from the finale, the season 1 finale, where there was, it was supposed to be bonus time at Axe Capital. And they did, they kind of brought it back in an incarnation in season 3, where Axe is bonusing everyone and it’s a quick kind of cut scene. But in season 1, they had a specific scene where the character of Mafee goes into Axe’s office and tries to play hardball with Axe and Wags. And he tries, he brings a folder and has all these numbers to back up why he should get a bigger bonus. And I kept blowing the line. It was a very number-heavy line, and I blew it once, which, that happens, and everyone’s there as a professional, and you just restart, do the line again. I screwed up a second time and felt it a little worse. And the third and fourth time I felt bad, but the fourth time I screwed it up, Damian, who is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life, made a noise, where he was like, “Ugghh.” And it drove me to study my lines harder than any — I, now I never come in over — there’s never not a time where I’m not overprepared on Billions. Because, because of that moment, where you let down a room — not only the crew, but David Costabile and Damian Lewis, who are two phenomenal actors — and you blow it, and you’re like, “This is the most embarrassed…” I’ve bombed and flop sweated less than how I felt in that room. And then they cut the scene! I got it eventually, but then they cut it, and we were like, “Augghh, augghh, that was a real, that was a real time to learn right there.”

Okay, a learning curve.

Yeah, that’s a real big learning curve, is screwing up in front of two great actors.

In this show, a common thread is that nearly every character is amoral. But Mafee is one of the few characters who has a moral compass. Are you proud of that aspect of his character?

I was, until that compass got manipulated in season 3. I don’t want to give it away for anyone that hasn’t seen it, but there is a, there was a giveaway in season 3 where Mafee was manipulated to go against his moral compass. So it was, but it was, you know, it’s fun. It’s fun to be that character. Just kind of be like, “Oh, I’m the guy with a soul, I guess.” For a time being, and then it’s gone, ‘cause eventually everyone loses it. And I think that was kind of a lesson in Billions that they were teaching, is, no one’s unaffected by greed or… yeah, greed, even when it’s, even when it’s disguised as loyalty, it’s still greed, in a certain way.

#was struck by the urge to find some dan soder interviews the other day and this was the most interesting one i found #especially since most of them were podcasts and i simply cannot be bothered to listen to all of them #billions #dan soder #i remember reading / hearing somewhere else that the major part dan was considered for was connerty #which would mean the actor brian & david couldn't secure at first but eventually got was toby leonard moore

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disaster-j · 2 years

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I was theorizing in my head about what might happen in the next episode of not me and assuming that black does return in this episode, what if sean and white going to the place where tawi supposedly keeps his drugs is a trap to ambush white, set up by sean and black?

Hear me out:

- black wakes up from the coma but before he can open his eyes he overhears Todd talking with white on the phone, but he's extremely suspicious of Todd, and why the hell is his brother - whom he hasn't seen in a decade - talking to him??

- so he escapes from the hospital and goes to the gang, the only people he trusts, and he tells them everything about white

- they figure out he's been pretending to be black so they come up with a plan to ambush him and get an explanation

- this would explain why black is hostile towards white when they meet, cause he doesn't really know what he's doing there and most importantly why the fuck he's pretending to be his brother with the help of Todd, of all people

- white explains everything, but because things don't add up with Todd, they might decide to keep up with their scheme and have white be a double agent with Todd, so they can figure out what he's involved with

I know this is all very unhinged and a little but cursed but it came to me cause I just don't believe that sean would know where tawi keeps his drugs and furthermore I don't believe he would bring "black" to this place to be his spy, HOWEVER if he did know that the person in front of him is white because the actual black told him, then the spy comment would be hilarious and extremely sarcastic and it would kinda make sense to me

Anon this was a really interesting read but there's a few issues with this theory. One, I think you've somehow missed this clip that wasn't in the youtube version of the ep8 promo but was included in the tv version. In the clip you can clearly see Sean finding documents from when White gave the diplomacy exam. These documents almost definitely have his name on him and even if they didn't it's not something Black could give since Black is a law student and so it's kind of a pretty big sign White isn't Black. So I'm pretty sure Sean figures it out all on his own before Black shows up.

Secondly, if Black was going to go to any of the other gang members before approaching White it'd be Kumpha or maybe Gram. Definitely not Sean unless Sean was the only one left. Sean and Black don't get along and Black doesn't trust him. In fact he doesn't fully trust anyone in the gang despite being their unanimous leader. It's just way more likely that he confronts White all on his own. I agree that he would be suspicious when he sees White taking his place but I don't think he would trust the others over White. Despite their years apart, the twins have a special bond. Just like White still loves him and will go to these insane lengths for him, Black would do anything for White.

In my opinion the fight in the trailer is more just Black being confused seeing White and testing him plus White freaking out because he doesn't know it's Black and not an intruder. As for SeanWhite spying on Tawi's drug operation, I think that's Sean testing White again. Probably. By the spy comment I'm pretty sure he knows about White not being Black and wants to see how far White will go for him without involving the others. Todd is the one element that I don't yet know how he'd fit in. I'm hoping Black will reveal him as a bad guy to White once he returns but I also feel like he might still keep secrets about what he was upto the way he was before his attack. I also don't think he will return to the gang just yet and will likely try to run off and deal with things on his own at first.

But hey if you're into writing I think you should totally make this idea into a fic I think it would be a really fun read!

#not me the series #not me ask

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supersilversleuth · 3 years

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I Know You Won’t Believe Me (But Sometimes I wish You Would) by SuperSilverSpy

Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Roman Sionis, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Whumptober 2021, Angst, Dick Grayson DID NOT fake his Death, I know I’m not really touching on it in this fic, but it’s important I say that, Post-Spyral, Miscommunication, Betrayal, I mean, Perceived Betrayal, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson, SilverWhump, Protective Dick Grayson, injuries

Summary:

“Wha—Where am I? What do you want?” He asked, pretending to be groggy from waking up.

“Well, Officer Grayson, you are the Red Hood’s dirty pig informant, so I’m betting there’s a lot I can get out of you.”

Dick resisted the urge to laugh, or explain himself. There wasn’t much to explain anyway, not without revealing secrets that he would rather die protecting. Instead, he forced his expression into something more like shock, and resignation, deciding to play this role to the end. He could feel the instincts of manipulation and deception settling back over him like a very familiar blanket. Playing spy for a while had given him the opportunity to hone those skills. If there was any beneficial thing that could be taken away from that whole experience, it was what good he could now do with the abilities he’d enhanced during that time.

OR Dick is forced to pretend to betray Jason in order to protect the Red Hood’s identity

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

Part 5 of 2021 Most Whumperful Time of the Year - Dick Grayson-centric

Language: English Words: 3,462 Chapters: 1/1

Dick was tracking down a lead in the northern part of Blüdhaven, snooping around in various warehouses. It was the part of Blüdhaven that was closest to Gotham, so really Dick should’ve known better than to think his day would be uneventful.

As it was, he was surprised by the sight of the Red Hood tying up the exact criminals Dick was looking for.

Jason had tensed, glancing up, hand going for his gun—when Dick pushed the creaky warehouse door open to take a peek inside—and then, when Jason realized who it was, the hand went away from the gun, and the eyes away from Dick, but the tension remained. Jason continued about, tying the criminals up, studiously ignoring Dick’s presence as he did so.

“Hood—” Dick started.

“I’m just finishing up, Officer ,” he said mockingly, “They’re all yours when I’m done.”

“I—They’re Black Mask’s people, do you have any intel about what they’re doing in my city?” “Not much,” replied Jason, tone clipped. “You?” “I have a little, maybe we could arrange a time to go over it? This case is clearly turning out to be a problem for both of us—”

“Nope, that’s not how it works,” Jason cut him off, “You haven’t been forgiven for your last f*** up yet. Maybe we can trade information later, if I ever decide to trust you again.” Dick winced, stepping back. “Well, I’ll be out of your hair then, Hood. I’ll have some people come this way to put these criminals back where they belong.” “Where they belong is a big, ugly a** community grave,” Dick heard Jason mutter behind him just as he walked out the door.

-- A few days after the Hood incident, Dick was heading home after a long day of writing reports and studying casefiles. Being a detective was certainly not all excitement 24/7. Most of the time he was sitting around, wishing for more time in the field.

That particular day, he was distracted, thinking about a very complicated case that had been stumping him for longer than he’d like. He should’ve known better than to take that route home, though it probably wouldn’t have mattered—whoever wanted him was professional enough to have all the streets around the precinct covered.

Ah, chloroform, he didn’t miss it. It’d been a while since he’d last had it pressed against his face. He supposed he was due for a run in with the stuff. The chloroform appeared at the same time as the wrenching of his arms behind his back, and the restraining of his legs. Dick tried not to fight too hard, he was still Detective Grayson, a civilian by vigilante standards, afterall. He had to keep up appearances. For that reason, he also pretended to fall unconscious long before he actually did. He’d built up an immunity to the drug of course, but that could only work with him as Nightwing.

When Dick woke up, he found himself face to face with Black Mask. The man sat behind a desk, with Dick, sitting, bound to a chair in front of him. With a start, Dick realized that Roman must’ve been watching him while he was unconscious. Dick suppressed a shudder.

“Wha—Where am I? What do you want?” He asked, pretending to be groggy from waking up.

“Well, Officer Grayson, you are the Red Hood’s dirty pig informant, so I’m betting there’s a lot I can get out of you.”

“I don’t know who the f*** that is,” Dick said, thinking about the actions of several of his coworkers for reference on how to act like a dirty cop.

“Don’t lie to me,” snarled Roman. “My people know you spoke with him at the last operation of mine that he busted.”

Ah, so that’s how he knew. One of the thugs must not have been fully unconscious during Dick’s conversation with Jason the other day.

“Look man, I’m just his source guy sometimes, and he doesn’t even like me very much lately. So I don’t know what to tell you. Just let me go, and we can call it a day.” Dick made himself fidget, as if he was nervous about the threatening crime boss sitting across from him.

“So what? You don’t have anything for me? Maybe I should just torture you until you die, how about that?”

“N—No,” Dick made himself stutter, “I—I can still help you...for a price.”

“Even now, you argue for your checkbook,” Roman chuckled, “The world goes ‘round, and dirty cops never change.”

“What can I say,” Dick smirked, “The Hood didn’t pay me enough. I’m sure you’ll be different…”

Roman smiled at him, a dangerous smile that said he couldn’t wait to use him up and leave his body in a ditch.

Dick smiled back.

Jason got an alert that the alarms at one of his safehouses had been tripped. It wasn’t one of his favorite safehouses or anything—in fact, it was due for a restock, but he knew it would be better to check it out as soon as he could anyway.

He swung through the air, making his way through Crime Alley to where he knew the safehouse to be. Any intruders in his territory would be dealt with, crappy safehouse or not.

He found that much of his security system had been quietly disabled…except for a single, simple sensor. Whoever did this wanted him to come here.

The door to his safehouse was ajar, and Jason carefully pushed it open, peering through the crack.

His lights were on, and there were the sounds of ransacking and breaking glass.

Jason grabbed the guns from his hips, and slammed open the door.

There stood Dick, out of uniform, surrounded by several of Black Mask‘s people.

Jason snarled at the sight, thoughts of the man’s betrayal swirling through his mind.

Dick’s eyes widened, shooting a pleading look at him as if trying to convey something. Jason ignored it in his anger.

“Let’s go! He’s here!” yelled Dick.

“Traitor.” He growled darkly.

Something flickered in the traitor’s expression, before smoothing out as if it had never been there.

Jason didn’t think. He just lifted his guns, and fired.

Unfortunately, they were rubber bullets, and he’s pretty sure he only managed to clip the lying b****** in the leg.

He did manage to take down at least three of the others before the rest escaped quickly through the window.

“So, I guess Hoodie really isn’t on your side after all,” said Roman, pacing.

“I—I don’t understand what happened,” Dick sputtered, feigning fear, “I disabled all of his security, he wasn’t supposed to show.”

“That’s because I had one of my people purposely sabotage you. I needed to make sure you weren’t still on his side. This,” he said, putting his hand on Dick’s leg where the bullet hit him, “is the proof I was looking for.” He pressed down, Dick gasped as if in pain. It really didn’t feel nice.

“W—What?” He said in indignation, “Of course I’m on your side, that guy hates me.”

“So I’m told.” Roman said, uncaring. He dug his fingers in.

“Stop!” Dick strained against the ropes binding his hands behind the chair.

The man let up, briefly, “You got the package I sent you to get?”

He was referring to the fake intel Dick had promised was stashed in Hood’s safehouse, intel that he had planted while no one was looking. The moment Roman plugged that thing in, Oracle would have complete access to all of the crime boss’s servers. “Yes, of course! Don’t forget to plug it into a high powered computer, I’m sure it’ll require a lot of decryption…”

Roman waved his hand, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, my people have it covered.”

“I’d like my payment now,” Dick said, glaring at him.

The man grinned malevolently, “You’ll get your payment, when I let you go and the Hood goes after you. The people he captured have quite the story to tell.”

Dick slid a look of fear onto his face.

Jason didn't even give him the chance to explain.

Not that Dick was surprised about this, of course, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

Roman had released him onto Gotham's streets, and sent several of his people to tail him. Dick of course, was not supposed to know about that particular detail, but it's not like the low-level thugs had any actual expertise when it came to anything, least of all properly tailing a person.

Ah, so this was one more test, to confirm that he was truly against the Hood, before Roman dared plug in the USB. So it was best that Jason's first reaction upon seeing him was to lash out anyway, and Dick didn't even get a moment to get a word in before Hood was slamming him into the ground.

Well, it seemed these days the only reliable fact was that his family no longer trusted him. It was a good thing he needed Jason to beat him up for the operation, then. Internally, Dick sighed, he wished it didn't have to be like this. He hated lying, detested spying, but he'd learned long ago that sometimes there's no time for debate, and often the situation called for the best solution, not necessarily a good one.

Jason always acted on his emotions, it was something about him that never changed. It was reliable qualities like that, that Dick had been trained to notice, to exploit when needed. Dick did what he had to do, Jason did what he wanted to do. Many times, Dick had had to shoulder the burden of doing what was needed, even if it hurt those around him. He would gladly carry these responsibilities for the rest of his life, if only his siblings didn't have to, if only his family lived.

And so, Officer Grayson fought with the Red Hood in a back alleyway as the man spewed curses about him and how he couldn't trust someone who'd betray him just to meet their own ends and not even think to tell him about the undercover op—

Dick, of course, was still being watched. So he fought like a random inexperienced police officer, not like Nightwing, professional vigilante.

Jason didn't seem to notice.

"Is this the new you then? Huh? You stab us in the back at every chance you get, all for a supposed “mission”? Is this Dick the spy then? Is that who you are now?"

Dick dodged a fist, got kicked in the knee. It’s probably just the pit rage, he reminded himself, another thing I can count on.

"You know, I didn't think you of all people would pull something like this the first time, I don't know why I didn't see it with this one, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now."

Jason punched him in the stomach, causing him to sink further to the ground.

"I don't even know if I'd grieve again, if I found out you were dead. How would I know it wasn't just another lie that you failed to mention to me?"

Dick was just glad his tails were too far away to hear what Jason was saying.

"Do you have any idea what Black Mask is capable of? Have you forgotten who the f*** he is ? You can't just go undercover to work with him against me, without telling me!"

His little brother sounded so upset, Dick only wished he had time to explain.

"Whatever happened to communication? Is that a foreign concept to you spies? And here I thought we were actually family."

Jason headbutted him right in the face, breaking what Dick was pretty sure was his nose. He could feel the sticky warmth of blood on his face, flowing over his lips, past his chin to drip to the ground. Dick's vision blurred, and he collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself, he had to play it up, afterall. Even though the wounds inflicted were mostly just surface ones. They had an audience, and Dick could not fail to perform.

Above him, Jason scoffed, as if he could see through Dick's pretending. Still though, DIck could see his hands shaking, could see as the pent up energy within his little brother's body drained, tension leaving his shoulders. In a moment, Jason was gone, and Dick closed his eyes, giving into the exhaustion of having had to pretend to be someone he wasn't under very stressful circumstances for the past few days. It was alright, nothing...Dick...couldn't handle...

Jason felt drained. He hadn't felt that angry since well...the last time Goldie had pulled something like this.

The feeling of Dick’s face against his fist was quite familiar by this point. Each time he’d done it blurred together, echoing in his mind as green tinted his vision.

Jason made it back to one of his safehouses, somehow. He wasn’t sure when he got there, or how, but when he finally came back to himself, it was to the sight of a familiar kitchenette.

He felt too restless to sleep, but too exhausted to do anything productive at the same time. He didn’t trust himself to go out as Red Hood. In this state, he was a danger to anyone around him.

Jason’s mind raced, even as his body collapsed on the couch. He turned the tv on, letting himself get lost in some random sitcom.

He needed to calm down, probably do something like think things through. Though Jason knew that he was most likely going to just go about his day tomorrow, as if today hadn’t happened.

Always running away, still that same self-preserving street kid who only knew how to survive. Well, it’d worked for him so far, minus the dying part of course.

Hours later, technically into the next morning, Jason’s comm beeped. What could Barbie possibly want at this time of morning? Not even villains were awake at 6:00am, usually this hour was sacred.

“Hood?”

Well, apparently not anymore.

Sighing, Jason brought his finger to his ear, “Yeah? How’d you know I was awake?”

“Unimportant,” she said, all business, “I need you to check on Nightwing for me.”

Jason’s mind blanked, and then he scoffed, “You kidding me?” His voice was shaky. “What the f*** did he do this time?”

Oracle had no time for overly dramatic interbat-relations.

“A few hours ago, Black Mask’s servers went online, Dick’s code caught my attention. I was able to get every little bit of data ever entered into one of Mask’s computers. It was more than we’ve been able to get from him in years. Dick’s work really was genius. I tried to get in contact with him, but his trackers aren’t working, his phone’s out of the picture, and I can’t find him on any camera. I’m worried he went undercover without a backup plan for when Mask figured it out.”

Jason attempted unsuccessfully to tamp down his feelings of guilt and concern.

“Alright O, I’m on it.” He croaked, already heading out the door.

Adrenaline flowed through his veins, spurring him on.

His earlier hate had fled, leaving behind nothing but cold determination. He was angry at his brother, sure, but he didn’t want the guy to die… right?

And if what Oracle said was true, then it just might have been worth it for Dick to do what he did, just maybe.

Jason headed to where he’d last seen Dick.

He found him about a block away from where they’d fought, being tortured in a rundown warehouse.

If it weren’t for the screams, Jason probably would have passed it and not even known.

Black Mask stood over Dick, who was bound to a table. Goldie was missing his shirt, and his torso was littered with burns and bruises. His feet were bare too, Roman was in the process of whipping them.

For the second time in twenty four hours, Jason felt the anger rise and the pit take over.

The emotion was stronger this time, more powerful, Jason thought distantly.

There were about thirty thugs surrounding Roman, guarding the man’s sadistic torture session.

Jason drew his guns, and tried not to think about the last time he’d used them to pistol whip Dickie across the face.

The first five thugs went down quickly, the next ten following right behind them. Jason reloaded. Some part of his subconscious aimed for kneecaps and non-lethal areas. The pit aimed for whatever was convenient. Nevertheless, if Jason had been paying attention, he’d have noticed that not one of his bullets missed a target.

By the time he’d made his way through all thirty of them, he had two loaded guns left, though they weren’t the same ones he’d started out with.

Roman had fled sometime during the action, like the coward he was. Jason was halfway out the door to find him when he heard a sound from behind him.

It was Dick.

Jason startled, hurrying towards his brother's side. The anger once again drained from his body.

Dick’s eyes were hazy and unfocused, they looked at him without seeing. But as Jason neared, something foreign came into them: fear.

Jason dropped his guns on the floor, trying not to think about how he’d never seen Dick look at him like that.

He bent to untie his brother from the table, and Dick flinched away from him, unintelligible noises stumbling out of his throat.

“Shh, Dickie, it’s alright.” Jason said frantically, “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

He finished removing the last of the restraints just as Dick passed out from what was likely incredible pain.

Jason efficiently cleaned and bandaged his brother’s wounds, feeling numb. Dick’s body was covered in scars, the recent--but not too recent ones were what caught his attention. Jason didn’t want to think about when Dick must’ve gotten them.

Instead, Jason thought about something that had been bothering him before, little details here and there that he had missed. Namely: Dick hadn't been wearing his Nightwing suit during all of their interactions in the past few days. In fact, he'd been dressed quite like a detective.

It dawned on Jason in a moment, and he felt horrified. Dick had been a detective that day in the warehouse with Black Mask's people. Back when this all started.

Jason's mind was racing when Dick groaned, eyes cracking open, "Wha—Jay?"

"Yeah, it's me Dickie. I'm here."

"What—What happened?"

Jason sighed, "What do you remember?"

Dick's brows furrowed in thought, "I...I had to go undercover..."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jason asked.

Recognition flashed in his brother's eyes, He seemed to be getting his energy back.

"There was no time, Roman kidnapped me, I had to play along."

"But—there had to have been some time you could have explained the situation to me…"

"Would you believe me if I had?" Dick's gaze was piercing.

“I—yeah, okay, that’s fair.” Jason paused, “Were you going to tell me that you went undercover to save my a**? Or were you just going to keep letting me hate you?”

Dick was silent.

Jason continued, “I mean, sure. Maybe I wouldn’t have believed you. But maybe I would have. You weren’t even going to give me the choice.” Something occurred to him then. “We didn’t give you the chance to explain about Spyral…was that situation similar to this?”

Dick sighed, “I’m not up for having this conversation right now. Maybe later, after I wake up.”

He burrowed further into the couch, closing his eyes.

“One more thing,” Jason said, unwilling to let it end just like that. “Those scars…”

Dick’s smile was bitter and darkly amused, “You didn’t think playing spy was all fun and games, did you? Everyone was out to get me. See here?” Dick half-heartedly lifted up his arm, “A cannibal took a chunk out of it. Congratulations, you’re the first to notice.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason murmured to him, long after he’d fallen asleep.

The two words were long overdue.

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randomvarious · 3 years

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SWV - “Right Here” 18 Top Hits 1/94 Song released in 1993. Compilation released in 1994. R&B

The first wave of R&B girl groups in the 90s was dominated by three separate entities: first, there was En Vogue, who were responsible for starting the whole craze, and then came TLC, who were then followed by SWV. And since this is a post that’s gonna be littered with a bunch of fun, little trivia nuggets, here’s your first one: SWV, which is an acronym for Sisters With Voices, originally wanted to call themselves TLC, based on the first initials of their three members, Tamara, Leanne, and Cheryl. But they received a cease & desist letter from Epic Records, who had the TLC name locked up for the soon-to-be sensational Atlanta trio that was on their own roster. And so, Tamara, Leanne, and Cheryl begrudgingly settled on calling themselves SWV instead.

They began in 1988 in New York with two members, Leanne and Cheryl, who both sang at church, and were in search for a third girl to finish out the group. After going through auditions, they chose Tamara, who, according to a Rolling Stone article, was really shy and originally would only sing with the lights off. The three girls also donned stage names. Leanne would be Lelee, Cheryl would be Coko, and Tamara would be Taj. As a quirk, they sent out demo tapes with bottles of Perrier because they couldn’t afford to send champagne. They would end up catching the ear of legendary producer, as well as the father of the new jack swing fad, Teddy Riley (more on him later), and he would end up getting SWV inked to a ridiculously terrible eight-album contract, which the group never completely fulfilled. But at least they got themselves signed to a major, right?

In 1992, SWV released their debut album, It’s About Time, with most of the production coming from a guy named Brian Alexander Morgan. Morgan has gone on to produce, remix, write, and arrange for a bunch of music superstars, including Usher, Drake, Wu-Tang Clan, Mariah Carey, and Ariana Grande. But his first big opportunity came from...right here...with SWV’s debut album.

In fact, it was “Right Here” that would kick things off for SWV, becoming the group’s first single, before their debut album ended up hitting the shelves. But here’s where it might get a little confusing. That first single isn’t the version of “Right Here” that everyone would end up remembering SWV for. Actually, almost no one remembers the original version of “Right Here,” which is an excellent song on its own. Morgan laced his new jack swing beat with organ, electric guitar, and ringing bells that remind us of Run-D.M.C.’s “Peter Piper” and Snap!’s “The Power,” which both trace back to Bob James’ “Take Me to the Mardi Gras”. And Taj raps, too!

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The original version of “Right Here” would peak at #92 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #16 on the R&B/Hip Hop chart. The next pair of SWV singles, “I’m So Into You” and “Weak” would fare much better, both reaching the top ten on Billboard’s Hot 100, with “Weak” going all the way to #1. These singles would then set the stage for the release of a new version of “Right Here,” the one everyone knows and loves, which is credited as a Teddy Riley remix, and was fresh for the summer of 1993. It’s commonly dubbed as the “Human Nature Mix” because of its liberal sampling of the Michael Jackson song off Thriller. That particular mix would also feature on the Free Willy soundtrack, which would also contain and lead with Michael Jackson’s “Will You Be There”.

(Another famous sampling of “Human Nature” would happen in 1994, too, with Nas’ “It Ain’t Hard to Tell,” which was produced by Large Professor. Now, you could be thinking that the “Human Nature Mix” might’ve provided some inspiration for Large Pro to conjure up that particular beat, but as it turns out, “It Ain’t Hard to Tell” was actually recorded in ‘92.)

So here’s the coolest piece of trivia you’ll run into today. Know who’s delivering that catchy “ess, double, you, vee” line throughout the “Human Nature Mix”? Pharrell. And it’s his first vocal credit, ever! One day, he was performing in a high school talent show with his R&B group, The Neptunes (not his production project with Chad Hugo), and guess who was in the audience? Teddy Riley! Riley’s studio just so happened to sit next to Pharrell’s high school. How’s that for luck? Pharrell would end up writing Riley’s verse on Wreckx-N-Effect’s old school hip hop summer classic, “Rump Shaker,” and the following year he was on the “Human Nature Mix”. There’s also a captivating, “give-it-some-time-to-work-itself-out” kind of “UK Remix” of “Right Here” on which Pharrell raps, and in 1996, The Neptunes (now just Pharrell and Hugo) would receive their first production credits for two songs (and an interlude) on SWV’s second album, New Beginning.

And now for something probably even less people know about. Although the “Human Nature Mix” is credited to Teddy Riley, it’s not his work. It’s Brian Alexander Morgan’s, the guy who also produced the original version. Riley’s name was merely attached for marketing purposes only. The label probably thought that if they sold the single as a remix that was made by a production superstar who was using a Michael Jackson song(!), it would move more units than if they said it was by Morgan, which is a name that barely anyone knew. And it seems like the label was correct in its calculus. Even though it didn’t end up hitting #1 (it hit #2), the “Human Nature Mix” remains SWV’s most remembered song, and you can credit it for leading to a re-release of SWV’s debut album, which at that point would add the remix, and would help generate over two million copies sold.

And come to think of it, how many songs can you name in which the remix ended up becoming far more popular than the original version? Before the advent of EDM, anyway. And “Ignition (Remix)” doesn’t count, by the way. That totally misunderstands what a remix is. There’s like a handful of tracks that come to mind: a pair of Amber remixes by Hani and Thunderpuss (”One More Night” and “Sexual (Li Da Di),” respectively), another Thunderpuss remix of “It’s Not Right But It’s Okay” by Whitney Houston, a Latin house remix of Madonna’s “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” by Pablo Flores and Javier Garza, and of course, Todd Terry’s remix of “Missing” by Everything But the Girl. But the “Human Nature Mix” of “Right Here” might be at the top of the list. Lots of people aren’t even aware of the original’s existence. When you say the words “’Right Here’ by SWV,” everyone just assumes you’re talking about the “Human Nature Mix”. When the song is included on compilations, a lot of times the words “Human Nature” aren’t anywhere to be found, like on this random German comp I have that gathered 18 of the top songs from January of 1994. That’s how much more popular the “Human Nature Mix” is than the original. Let me know if you can think of any other remixes that hold a similar status.

One more thing before I get to the music video. This mix is so different from the original. The original version has a much harder edge and clearly took way more thought and effort to put together than the “Human Nature Mix” since the “Human Nature Mix” primarily just coasts off of the Michael Jackson sample. It doesn’t mean the original’s better though. It’s definitely great, but it’s trapped in the new jack swing era, and for that reason, it doesn’t have the staying power of the “Human Nature Mix”. Sometimes a producer finds something that’s easy enough to cobble together and it just manages to hit really good. That’s definitely the case here. The “Human Nature Mix” is just so fluffy; it was perfect summer radio then and it’s perfect summer radio now. It’s like an R&B counterpart to DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince’s “Summertime,” which came out a couple years beforehand. In fact, if I were doing a nostalgic 90s summer mix, I would probably line those tracks up back-to-back (”Rump Shaker” would be somewhere in there, too). There’s just a super relaxing, enjoyable airiness that both songs seem to possess. Oh, and speaking of DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince, you know who provides the background vocals on Will Smith’s “Men in Black” song? Coko from SWV. Wild, right?

So, anyway, the video. It sucks. It just does. It’s not memorable at all, besides the awkward, intermittent slip-ins of footage of Michael Jackson performing “Human Nature” from his Dangerous tour and some clips of Free Willy swimming and breeching. It’s really a missed opportunity for the group. Apparently, there’s another video without Michael and Free Willy, too, but I can’t find it. It sounds like it’s boring though. Oh well.

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The first single off of SWV’s next album (”You’re the One”) would do very well for itself, too, and that album would manage to go platinum. But they’d get lost in the fold soon after, while En Vogue and TLC would end up building much more on their prior success. And TLC would come out on top for the late 90s with songs like “No Scrubs” and “Unpretty”.

SWV made good songs, but they weren’t marketed well, at all. Case in point, your last bit of trivia: Taj was a contestant on Survivor in 2009. No, not Celebrity Survivor. Just regular-ass Survivor. No one knew she was Taj from SWV and she didn’t tell anyone on the show either. This lady helped sell millions of records for fuck’s sake. I guarantee you every contestant on that show knew an SWV song and they had no idea who this woman even was. Isn’t that kind of insane? I mean, SWV were by no means one-hit wonders, and they weren’t super popular for that long, but they were definitely an early 90s R&B staple. Anyway, for what it’s worth, Taj ended up finishing in fourth on Survivor. She’s also married to soon-to-be Hall of Fame running back Eddie George.

So, there it is. One of the greatest and most popular tunes of the 90s. A song everyone likes that has a lot of fun, interesting facts that surround it. Shame that these girls couldn’t sustain their success for the remainder of the decade, but at least they and Brian Alexander Morgan gave us this indomitable classic.

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mail-me-a-snail · 4 years

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Sobriety

Chase Brody has been doing everything to combat his alcoholism; going to AA, therapy, being social, exercising...and yet it still isn’t enough. One afternoon, a year after his divorce, Jackie drives him home. tw: alcoholism, panic attacks, car accident ment, suicide ment.

"So, how was it?"

Chase shrugs, both to slide his backpack off and to answer. He puts the bag in the backseat, then twists back around to buckle himself in. Jackie, mask off and in a plain red hoodie and worn jeans, as opposed to his jumpsuit, sits in the driver's seat, fingers drumming against the wheel in sync with whatever metal is playing on the stereo, Chase doesn't know—he's too tired to go through the challenge of deciphering the lyrics. The chaotic banging of drums and rippling guitar riffs about sum up the state his head's at.

"It was fine," he says coolly, "I guess. Todd brought his guitar this time." Todd—Todd Danvers—being the head of the group. Great guy, might've made it as a part of the church ensemble, if he hadn't drunken so much wine like every meal was communion. Washed his face in the tub of holy water they have at the door, that's what Todd had told them all, that first day, when Chase was still having the shakes.

"What'd he sing?" Jackie glances over at him as he twists the key in the ignition. The car hums to life, and they pull out of the center's parking lot with a low rumble.

"Pretty cover of What Have They Done To You Know. Daniel Knox? Funny, you wouldn't think a guy like him would be into that kind of indie music."

Jackie laughs, though it's not as bubbly as Chase thought it would be. It's more like an exhale Jackie leans into.

There's no conversation that follows, so the clicking turn signal, honking cars passing by, and radio fill the silence. He's gotten better at his anxiety with cars. Chase picks at the neon bandages on his fingers—the story is that he tried rather unsuccessfully to build a shelf—nails, all that, you know—but that's not what happened.

Promise a man, a very wasted, high off his rocker man, a few hundred bucks and he just might cut his whole hand off for you. He'll play the knife game like a roulette wheel, spinning and spinning, until he hits the jackpot, or until he has no fingers.

Nicks for nickels, that's what his buddies down at the bar say. Nicks for nickels. Money isn't easy to come by lately and he doesn't want to have to depend on Jackie's or his brothers' help for the rest of his life. It isn't fair.

So, he works, doing odds and ends and stupid dares, because the companies in the city aren't hot on having a recovering alcoholic under their brand. We'll call you back. Your resume looks great, Mr. Brody, you'll be at the top of our list. You'll be a fine employee.

Ha. Right. Three weeks later? Not a single call, nor email. Nicks for nickels again those nights that followed.

"Where's your mind at, Chase?" Jackie says amiably, once they're on the long stretch of road heading towards the house. "What're you thinking about?"

"My shelf," Chase answers, trying his best to sound mournful, stretching his bandaged fingers out in front of him, "Hurt like a son of a bitch to put it together."

Jackie's mouth presses down into a flat line. He says nothing for a few moments. He changes the station. Something light and electric plays.

“You know, you could've called me," Jackie says eventually, when they've hit the chorus. "I'm a champ at furniture building. You should see Henrik's desk now; beautiful, if I do say so myself."

He may sound proud, but he's still frowning.

Chase picks at the hem of his ratty grey hoodie; he doesn't even remember where he got it.

"I handled Patricia myself," he shrugs.

"Patricia—the shelf has a name now?" That gets a laugh out of the hero, and Chase smiles a bit. Jackie's laugh had always been infectious. "Well, you did a fine job, in any case."

"You're right, though: I'm not as good as you and JJ at that furniture stuff," Chase admits, and cuts Jackie off before he can protest. "No, no, it's true. I've always been the tech guy."

"'suppose so," Jackie amends. He pauses, turns the radio down, then asks hesitantly, "Chase, how'd you hurt your hands?"

The lie comes instantly. "I told you, Jackie—Patricia fought me tooth and nails!"

"No, Chase, that's not what happened." Jackie's voice is firm, if not stern. It's a scolding tone of voice that only Henrik uses with Chase, so it makes him look away in guilt. "Please. Tell me what's really going on. If—If someone's hurting you, or something, I'll—"

"—No, Jackie, it's not like that! I..." Chase rises on the defense.

"Then, what is it, Chase?"

"It's none of your damn business!" He can't stop his voice from raising. He's quick to anger these days—an after affect of the drinking.

"I'm your brother!" He's still looking at the road. His grip is tight on the steering wheel. "Of course it's my damn fucking business! I'm worried about you Chase, and—"

"I don't need you to look after me!"

"Then, who will, Chase? Henrik? Marvin? Jamie? Fucking Robbie? If I don't look after you, you'll...you'll hurt yourself again and I can't let that happen!"

"I can handle myself."

"Clearly, you can't."

"Oh, because I'm a screw-up, is that it? I'm a nobody who isn't good at anything, who almost killed himself—"

"Stop it."

"—is that it, Jackie? Is it because I'm a suicidal disaster?"

"You know what?" Jackie punctuates, "Maybe that is it." Maybe you are a fucking screw-up."

The anger and disappointment in his voice is so raw it silences. He knows that this is just a row, but it still terrifies him, the way Jackie sounds so much like...Anti.

Blood rushes through his eardrums and it feels like he's about to burst. His heart runs a hundred miles a second and it hurts. He can feel his pulse behind his eyes, in his fingertips, in his mouth. Jackie disappears from his view as the edges of his version grow black.

He can't breathe.

Is this what a heart attack is?

The world shifting in and out of focus, like a bad camera, and the road disappearing, like the headlights were never there, like he isn't in a car again, barrelling down a street he can barely see, with the kids in the back, and God, Stacy, I know, okay? I know! Please, don't yell—please don't yell at me! I'm trying not to drink anymore—N-No, I'm not drunk— in the front seat, and his hands are gripping the steering wheel tight, and he is, in fact, drunk, so the world is swimming around him and, CHASE—!

The windshield shatters into a million pieces.

It happens so slowly Chase can touch the glass as it flies past him. He's in the driver's seat now. He looks to his right, and Stacy is there, beautiful Stacy, her face smacking into the dashboard. He looks down at himself. He's uninjured. He's wearing a ratty grey hoodie, red Converse, blue jeans. In his reflection in the rear view mirror, his brown hair has green strokes; he had done a poor dyeing job.

Chase closes his eyes.

"What is real?" His therapist's voice comes back to him, clinical and calm. In this moment, in this panic—ask yourself, "What is real and what isn't?"

He opens his eyes.

Real: He is uninjured.

Not real: Stacy and the kids are here at this moment.

“R-Real," he whispers, "I am in a car. Not real: it's S-Stacy's car." He looks around to the backseat, but can't bear to look at the kids. He keeps his gaze on the floor. "Real: m-my backpack is on the seat. Not r-real: the kids are here."

He dares to look up. His backpack is there, black and canvas, with multiple patches. It's half open. Inside are comic books and his laptop. He twists back around, staring head-on at the blank, empty road, like someone forgot to continue building the rest of the world. Either that or there is no world outside of this one car crash.

A car crash that happened all of two years ago. He's surprised that his other regular nightmare isn't here.

One night in March (it was now September), he had gotten a visit from their eldest brother. Chase had been drunk at the time, swearing and bawling, so when Anti showed up...Chase did the stupid thing: he took a swing at the demon, thinking he was going to take something else away from him. Of course, he didn't like that.

A scar, eight or nine inches deep, on his abdomen twitches. He puts a hand to it. That had been the night he swore off drinking, for good.

"Lots of good it did you."

Chase jumps, and screams when he catches two empty black pits staring at him intently from the rear view mirror. That voice. Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

"Y-You're not real," he says, voice cracking out of pure terror, "You a-aren't real!"

:Oh, I'm very real, Chase," Anti appears beside him in the passenger seat, clipping through Stacy, who's blood drips in slow motion. He is just as demonic as Chase remembers him; black, empty eyes that dripped like ink down his pale cheeks, all black attire, his Converse up on the dashboard, and the grossly shiny red gash across his neck. He almost looks like Jack, in a way.

"N-Not real, not real—"

"Say it all you want, Brody, but I am real. I've come to finish the job."

"W-What?"

"Hold still."

A hand closed around his neck, pushing him back, his head smacking into the car door. He cries out, arms lashing wildly and legs thrashing, but Anti isn't deterred. The knife glints above his head. The shards of glass reflect upon it, making it shimmer in all sorts of colors. The radio goes wild; static, static static, filling the world, making Chase's ears ring with its volume.

"D-Don't do this, please, God, fuck, don't—What do you want from me?!"

Anti smiles. His eyes turn grey-blue, white scleroses. His gash disappears.

He's a perfect reflection of Jack.

"Sobriety," he says, in Jack's achingly calm, innocent voice, "Is that too much to ask, Chase?"

"Fuck, no, no, please—!"

The knife comes down into his heart.

"Chase?"

Anti's...Jack's voice echoes in his ears. It sounds so far away.

Not real: Jack talking to him.

"Chase?"

Real: he's about to die.

"—CHASE!"

He jolts awake, panting for air like he had been drowning. His face, neck, and shirt are certainly wet; he's sweating bullets. His hands are shaking something awful. Chase swings his gaze around, trying to take in everything at once.

"No, Chase, please—l-look, look at me!" Hands touch his cheeks gently and he flinches. They return, directing his eyes forward. Jack...no, not Jack—the hair is a neon green...Jackie. Jackie looks at him in worry, blue-grey eyes looking over him. His touch is warm. His hands are shaking. He's got tears in his eyes, but his breaths are controlled. That's the Jackie he knows—never truly removing the mask.

"J...Jackie?" His heartbeat is still thumping wildly, but it's slowing down, as he can feel it in his jaw. His brain feels like molasses. "I don't...what..."

"I pulled over," Jackie drops his hands, but holds Chase's in both. "I didn't mean to call you that, I'm sorry!"

Chase blinks slowly. He looks out the windshield, unbroken, rain dropping in fat splats, the window wipers working overtime—when the hell had it started raining?—and they are pulled over. They're in front of a house he recognizes as being part of the neighborhood. They're not too far from home. The sun is setting, but the sky is too grey to tell where. The clouds are dark and stormy. People rush by the car and into their homes, some with umbrellas, others caught without.

"N-No, Jackie, it's...it's my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you." His words come back to him and they fill him with shame.

"I shouldn't have gone off on you like that, either. I didn't...you're not a screw-up."

"I am." He shakes his head, tears blotting his eyes, drops falling onto his pants. He hiccups. "I'm s-such a fucking m-mess, Jackie."

The seatbelt unclips beside him and warm arms envelope him. He lets Jackie hug him, unclipping his own seatbelt. They stay there for a moment. Two.

Chase comes clean.

Nicks for nickels. The bar. His "friends."

Most importantly of all, the drinks. You don't go to a bar and not have a drink. He doesn't drink until he's blackout drunk anymore, but he drinks enough to be numb. He's relapsed. He was only able to slip in AA the following day after a strong shot of vodka and some breath mints. The whole session, he had been hammered by a hangover.

Jackie listens silently, but the weight of his disappointment bears down on Chase's shoulders like an anvil.

"Chase..." He starts, but the other shakes his head frantically.

“I know."

"You're not supposed to drink anymore."

"I know."

"I'll... I'll talk to Todd tomorrow, your therapist, too. They have to know about this."

"N-No, Jackie, I have to tell them myself." Having their disappointment on his mind would destroy him, but he needs just a little bit of control of what's happening. "But promise me one thing?"

"Anything."

Chase bites his lip.

"Don't t-tell the others." Jackie opens his mouth to protest. "No, Jackie, y-you have to promise me this. Not Henrik, Marvin, or any of the others...I don't want them to know about this. I don't w-want them to think I'm weaker than they already think I am. And I know they do. I know all of you do. And y-you're all right."

"You are not weak."

"I relapsed." Chase rubs his face with his palms. "It hasn't even been six months."

"Chase," Jackie says firmly, "Look at me."

When he does, hesitantly, the hero takes a breath.

"Chase Brody Mcloughlin, you are the strongest person I know," he starts, "because despite all you've been through, you are still here. You are still living and breathing and I know it hurts, but you are so incredibly brave for surviving. I am proud of you, even if you've relapsed. This road you're driving down, it's not an easy path. I don't have to tell you that for you to know. There'll be bumps and detours but...I'll always be here for you. We'll always be here. Anytime you need us. I'll help you get back on the road. I promise."

That is why Jackie is Chase's hero. Despite everything, anger and pain and injustice...he still manages to be kind.

Chase nearly starts bawling. He bites down on his knuckles and just nods. He can't say much, so Jackie turns the engine on.

"Let's go home."

They park near the sidewalk. The rain has lightened to a drizzle. The clouds are clearing. The stars are coming out. The lawn is wet with dew. The lights in the living room are on.

Chase feels sick looking at the house. His eyes and nose are stuffy and red and he has a headache coming on. He can't hide the fact that he's been crying. Years of dealing with Anti has trained his brothers to notice the smallest of details.

"Chase," Jackie murmurs, "if...if you are serious about being able to handle yourself, I...well, it was supposed to be a surprise, but there's this apartment in the city that I've saved. I haven't spent anything on it, but...if you want, I can help you get it. Contribute a little. The rest can be up to you. I'll help you get a job, even."

Chase looks at him, unsure. "Really?"

“Yeah. I know you've spent most of your life away from us and it's a bit of a shock to be caged in with us again, so..."

He loves them, but the house is stuffy. He misses his old apartment, but he had missed his brothers, too.

"Thanks, Jackie," he says, "I'll...I'll have to think about it."

"Okay. Take your time."

At dinner, no one suspects a thing.

Jamie fills him in on Robbie's garden—it's going smoothly, with beautiful, flowering succulents. For a zombie, it's no surprise he has a green thumb, he jokes, and Chase laughs.

Marvin teaches him a card trick, much to Henrik's disdain; no magic at the dinner table, he scolds them like a mother hen.

Jackie watches him from across the table. He can feel his gaze boring into his skull.

The dining room is warm and full of life. Chase isn't completely involved mentally, but he's enjoying the sounds of dinnerware and conversation. He's not sure what they're having for dinner, either, but it's good. He just feels so out of it because of the emotional roller-coaster that was today.

The prospect of having a new apartment and a stable job...it terrified him, because what would happen if he relapsed again?

He tries to still his hands when he drinks water.

"Goodnight, Chase," Jackie kisses the top of his head, then goes to the doorway of his room.

“Goodnight. Thanks, Jackie. For today."

Jackie smiles and says nothing. He shuts his door.

Chase goes into his room and closes the door behind him. The bed is messy, but he doesn't care. He slides right into it, tossing his phone onto the desk, and closing his eyes.

He feels the small grooves of scars along his fingers—he had finally taken off the bandages. More scars, more tallies. One on his abdomen, a few on his wrists...a bullet scar on his scalp. He doesn’t even have the gun anymore. Jackie had surrendered it to the police. He still feels the ghost sensation of cool metal on his palm.

He sits up and crosses the hall, knocking softly on Jackie's door.

"Come in," the hero's voice floats from behind it. He opens the door.

Jackie is lying on his bed in his somehow neat room, with a shelf full of comic books arranged by series and brand. His hoodie is slung over the back of his desk chair. He looks up from his phone when Chase stands in the doorway.

"What's up, Chase?" He asks, eyebrows raised.

Chase shuffles his feet.

"Can I...can I bunk with you tonight? It's just that I, I can't stop thinking about it all, and I'm...I'm scared."

"It's no problem, buddy," Jackie's expression softens, and he moves over, patting the space beside him. "Come 'ere."

Chase settles in, hesitantly, putting his head on Jackie's chest. He can hear the hero's heartbeat and breath. It's a comforting sound.

"Thank you," Chase whispers.

"Anything for my little brother," Jackie smiles. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He's terrified of building a new life for himself because if he relapses it will all come crashing down again. He doesn't know if he can handle that.

But he has to try.

As much as it hurts, he has to. If not for himself, for Henrik, Marvin, Jamie, Robbie...and Jackie.

For Jack.

It's what he would've wanted.

And that’s what makes his relapse so crushing.

#writersofjack #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #chase brody #jackieboy man #jbm #fanfiction #fanfic #suicide ment #alcoholism tw #mine #my writing #this one was a DOOOOZIE

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its-a-branwen-thing · 4 years

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r/RWBY AMA Highlights

For those who weren’t aware, r/RWBY did an AMA with the voice actors of the Ace Ops early this morning :) I wanted to share some of their answers here for ya’ll in case people didn’t feel like trekking through the thread. Here are some of the Q&As that I found fun/the most interesting! These are just my personal highlights, by the way! :)

First, some introductions (I put the character next to the name but...just in case I mess up):

And now, for some of the Q/As!

Q: FancyDancyMaho: For Mick - so who is the Goodest Boy and why is it Marrow? If you had to take a guess, is Marrow a mix of insecure and overcompensating because he's the Rookie?

ricepiratemick (Marrow): Absolutely. The thing is, he's a Rookie to the team, but not a rookie in general experience. The AceOps don't just hire anyone.It's like being a senior in high school: you're the upperclass. Then going to college and starting back down at the bottom of the food chain.Plus he's young, AND a little "different" from the rest. He's got a lot to prove. But unfortunately, "needing to prove something" can sometimes get in your way.

Q: JazzRen47 asked: Hi! This is a general question for all of you. I know voice acting is different from stage work, but was there anything in particular that helped you get into character for your recordings? I'm currently a University theatre student so I'm beyond curious about getting insight wherever I can haha! It was an absolute joy to get to hear your performances this Volume (and an aside for Dawn: you are a wonderful singer, ma'am). Thank you so much for taking the time to come do this.

ricepiratemick (Marrow): Some VA's sit while they work. Focusing all that energy and nuance directly into their voice. I've never been able to that. I gotta stand up and move around (which is sometimes a problem, but I've been able to reign it in and keep it more manageable).

But I'm still flailing my arms around and pointing at imaginary people lol

Q: silent-film asked: Clover’s tone in his scenes with Qrow is noticeably different from his tone when speaking to the Ace Ops or the kids. Can you say anything about that or what your thoughts were on their interactions as a whole?

ChristopherWehkampVA (Clover): I approached Clover as a guarded leader type character, who rarely allowed others into his mind on a personal level. So you see that reflected in how he treats most people, keeping a professional but kind distance.

Q: CapitalStory4 asked: Anairis, what is the best part about being the female Flash?

anairisq (Harriet): At this point? The memes.

Q: Mpatrick23 asked: Hey y'all! I wanna thank you five for taking the time to do this AMA! Now down to the questions:

To all: What was it like in your own perspectives to be a part of the ride with the RWBY cast and who were your favorite VAs to just hang with when not recording? And do you guys have spare time hobbies? Also, just throwing a compliment out there: Dawn, you did beautifully in War!! That was bloody amazing. I loved Harriet up until the "It's not excessive if it's necessary" line as well. I hope you guys make convention appearances soon and possibly see the rest of you in V8!

One of the many loyal fans, -Mitch

DawnMBennettVA (Elm): Hey Mitch! Thank you so much!!! :'D

We generally don't get to see each other a lot when we're not recording, as actors have the most unpredictable schedules. However, I did get to see Anairis before we were able to announce our roles, and we totally geeked out and got excited about each others' performances since we hadn't heard them yet.

I think I'd say my hobby is cooking and baking! I love trying to make new dishes I've never made and see what works. My last favorite food I made was lavender tea bread with a honey lavender glaze. My kitchen smelled fantastic.

Q: MrZissman asked: Hi Dawn! Question - who wins in an arm wrestling contest: Nora or Elm?

DawnMBennettVA (Elm): I think Elm would win at first, but then Nora would probably keep challenging her for rematches until she won. And then Elm would do the same back to Nora until it became an infinite loop of flexing.

Q: BiFross asked: Anairis, the beginning of the season's Harriet is much different than the end's Harriet. How did you make that distinction between friendly threats to actual threats?

anairisq (Harriet): Oh, definitely. Harriet was really serious and angry by the end, so there was no room to play games. You don't see her confidence manifest as playfulness as much as it manifests in frustration by the end, and that's the distinction I made in my head.

Q: Firegirl15639 asked: For Chris, A lot of people's favorite scene you were in was the one in the truck with Qrow. What can you tell us about getting into character for that scene?

ChristopherWehkampVA (Clover): Thanks, I loved that scene. It’s a good glimpse of how professional and capable Clover is while also still having a warm hearted side. I remember wanting to show that warm hearted side with my reads and have it contrast to how all-business he would be later in the scene

Q: threefoldthrowaway asked: Chris, I absolutely loved you as Clover and I’m gutted to see you leave. Clover had most of his screen time shared with Qrow so I just want to ask: How do you think Clover and Qrow’s relationship changed over the course of the volume?

ChristopherWehkampVA (Clover): Thanks, it was so cool to play with their dynamic. By the end of the volume Clovers pain at feeling he had to arrest Qrow was so genuine. He was dealing with the very real pain of having to choose sworn duty over what was becoming an important relationship to him

Q: BrokenLevel asked: Why do you suppose each of your characters are so steadfastly loyal to Ironwood? No need to be canon, personal conjecture is also fine.

ricepiratemick (Marrow): For Marrow, he's a faunus, and there's clearly social tensions that come with that. Having been brought into THE most elite group of huntsmen in the Atlesian military, I can't help but think Marrow (despite being a bit cocky) is hugely appreciative and humbled. He knows how difficult and rare it is for those of his kind to be placed in a such an important role.

That said, of all the AceOps... I think he'd be the first to question his "steadfastly loyal" position on Ironwood.

toddwo (Vine): I think it's the military thing. It's chain of command. He's in charge. The RWBY kids can use their hearts more as a guide because they're not military-first like I think the Ace ops are.

Q: ArmoftheSpoonFiend asked: What would you guys rather fight, 100 duck-sized horses or 1 horse-sized duck?

DawnMBennettVA (Elm): 1 horse-sized duck. Gonna need a giant oven, though.

ricepiratemick (Marrow): Marrow prefers a single target :]

anairisq (Harriet): 1 horse-sized duck. Easier to run away. :') I know if it was Harriet, she'd take on all 100 the duck-sized horses just to show off.

Q: OutcastMunkee asked: Quite a few (mainly because a few from my friend who is at work so can't make it!) questions here for everyone...From me, I gotta ask what you think about the Ace Ops vs RWBY fight and why do you think RWBY came out victorious?

As for questions from my friend, he wants to know:

Did any of you know of/watch RWBY before you were cast?

How did you end up auditioning for the roles?

Was working on RWBY any different to other voice acting jobs you've done in the past?

Thanks for doing this AMA folks! <3

toddwo (Vine): Firstly, RWBY team cheats in battle, so that's why they beat us ;)

I actually produced two seasons of the broadcast show RWBY rewind about RWBY, so I had seen nearly all of it by the time these auditions came around, and programmed entire episodes of that show around episodes, characters, and events of RWBY.

I usually submit every time there's a call for voice actors. I've been voicing various things in videos for a decade, animated characters, puppets, Reggae Shark. So I just love leaving the headspace of being at a desk at work and going to imagination land and recording voices.

I think I answered this in a different post, but I'd say the difference is being close to the show - I work at Rooster Teeth - and knowing the directors personally. It makes it way easy to ask questions, get feedback, and just be loose, as compared to skypeing in to some jerk director in L.A. lol.

ricepiratemick (Marrow): I've seen the debates about the fight results on twitter and reddit and I think it's fairly simple (and that many folks got it): AceOps were not on the same page and down a leader + RWBY were fighting for their lives and the lives of the people they were trying to save. It's as simple as that. Sure "team work" and "friends" and all that, but for those who were disapproving of that being the sole reason... I think it was clear that there were many legit reasons why RWBY came out on top.

Before getting cast, I knew of RWBY, especially some of the folks on the team, but wasn't an avid follower of the series before. Since being cast...gotta say, I love it. And will continue to watch no matter what happens to Marrow.

Audition was sent by the magic of electronic mail.

One main difference (compared to other acting jobs) is the time they take to nail down a line. In many VO jobs, yer on the clock and they roll through the script at a clip. With RWBY, it wasn't like there was a 100 takes of each line, but they knew what they wanted while still wanting the actor to explore. Just super positive, organic, and overall great experience recording with them every time.

anairisq (Harriet):

1) Yup! From the beginning. :)

2) I had received the audition online while living in FL! Submitted it pretty much the same day and tried not to think about it. I was so, so excited when I heard I booked.

3) It was for me! It was my first time doing prelay work in the booth. I was a little nervous about how it'd be like, but each session was really fun.

Q: patrizl001 asked: Todd, did you ever notice your character never used their weapon throughout the volume? Why do you think that is?

toddwo (Vine): This is totally a guess, but I feel like it's Vine's "nuclear option." He's all zen normally, so I tend to think he wants to solve things organically, and not just go nuts and use some metal blades to do the job of stretchy-ness and tactics. I could be wrong tho! Maybe it's just a fashion accessory!

Q: Eldi13 asked: For everyone: Where do you hope to see your characters go in Volume 8?

ricepiratemick (Marrow): Obviously, I have no official say in what happens to Marrow and his place in the story. But I can't help feeling he's gonna get a lot of heat from Ironwood and company after Harriet rats him out for not fighting, especially in light of Clover's death.

Personally, I'd love to see him help/side/join the RWBY gang, even if he's not a mainstay. But no matter what, he's definitely been built up to be the most conflicted of the Ops and I'm curious/excited to see where they leads.

DawnMBennettVA (Elm): Like Mick said, I have no say in the story, but I'd also love to see Elm's growth after Clover's death and the possible events to come (like what's gonna happen to her team after losing its leader, y'know?). She really does seem like a team mom at times, and I'd love to see her give Team RWBY another chance.

Q: Eldi13 asked: For Dawn, (if you make it by later!) what was the recording process like for the song in episode 12? Did Jeff and Casey arrange the whole thing, or did all the vocalists have input as well?

DawnMBennettVA (Elm): Hey there! I believe Jeff and Casey did indeed arrange the whole thing. (Obviously, someone from production please correct me if I'm wrong)! :'D

I was approached by Jeff during the process to be a guest singer, which absolutely blew my mind!!! He and Casey are such crazy talented musicians and it was an honor to be able to perform with them.

Then Christopher Sabat (voice of Arthur Watts) kindly let me use his recording studio to track my vocals, Briana Villarreal engineered me, my cousin Kaitlyn Fae coached and directed me, and I sent my vocals off to Jeff!

Jeff had asked me to sing whichever lines I liked best and he'd pick which ones to use from those. You can imagine how happy I was to hear myself singing when Elm appeared on the screen. :')

Q: SentientHam asked: Thoughts and opinions on each of your character's sembalances and weapons?

ricepiratemick (Marrow): It's fetching. Despite not seeing it's full potential, I think it's got a lot of staying power.

Q: AylaPazza asked: For all VAs, do you have any particular headcanons for your characters? Like hobbies or ways to relax, things like that! Also you all did a fantastic job this volume! I hope we see more of all of you in volume 8!

ricepiratemick (Marrow): Marrow uses his semblance to hack speed-runs of difficult games.

toddwo (Vine): I try to channel Paul Bettany's Vision character and make a lot of resonating noise in my head and relax at the same time. My voice is really high naturally so I spend a few minutes just humming low to myself to get someplace different.

Q: galaxyseal asked: To any of them: have you guys gotten to meet any of your fellow cast members in person?

DawnMBennettVA (Elm): Yes! From the Ace-Ops, I already knew Chris Wehkamp, and I met Anairis not too long after recording! I also met Lindsay and Michael Jones years ago when I started working on Fairy Tail, and Elizabeth Maxwell when we were working on Dragon Ball Super.

Actually, now that I think about it, I've met way more of the RWBY cast than I thought... The voice acting world is smaller than you think! :D

anairisq (Harriet): I met Dawn! She's just as much of a sweetie as Elm is <3

ricepiratemick (Marrow): I haven't!!!! >:[

Buuu~t I've gotten to meet/hang/know some of the team members :D

All solid, passionate, hard-working peeps

Q: brendans1989 asked: For anyone to answer - what is the most powerful advice you would give to anyone aspiring to become a voice actor?

DawnMBennettVA (Elm): Know that rejection is just part of the job. You're not going to book everything you audition for. Learn to let things go. Also, your friends' progress is not a measure of your own.

Even when you're at your lowest and you think you might be the worst, don't give up. Talk to a private coach, take classes, do everything you can to improve yourself. Keep pushing, keep trying, keep moving forward.

------

I hope this is fun for everyone to read through! I tried to balance out answers on character questions and misc. ones, as I bet some folks are interested in hearing about their journey as VAs! If anyone wants to check out the full AMA, it’s here.

r/RWBY seems like a cool crew of people, this seemed like a lot of fun, and the mods did a good job curating! Hope I gave credit where it’s due for question askers--this was all their hard work!

Happy Saturday everyone~

#rwby #reddit #rwby ama #vine zeki #marrow amin #clover ebi #harriet bree #elm ederne #voice acting #long...sorry

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fuckyeahyesband-inactive · 7 years

Text

Yestival, August 29th, 2017; Microsoft Theater, Los Angeles, California

Yestival was announced early this 2017 year; a prog extravaganza of Carl Palmer’s ELP Legacy, Todd Rundgren, and Yes all in one night. Never was there a more even mix of opportune and inopportune time for me, a young prog fan without that much money to her name, than now. Three big names in one show—it must cost a fortune! How was I ever expected to scrounge up enough cash to take Mom and I in a short amount of time? I had no job, and no stable source of income. I would just have to hope and pray…

Tickets went on presale an early April morning. Mom and I had decided on getting tickets, which were priced not quite as much as I was expecting. But hey, I’m not complaining. I had my laptop all set up and loaded for the presale to ensure we would be quick enough to get good seats. But… We were never given a presale code.

Oh, no. We were in trouble. How could we get into the presale? I clearly remember searching online desperately in case I had missed a presale code announcement. I must’ve had almost thirty tabs open at the time, but no—nothing. I was almost in a blind panic by the time Mom suggested we just guess the code. We gave obvious answers like “music,” “Yes,” “festival” and the like, but we were fresh out of luck.

“Try ‘prog,’” Mom says.

“That’s too obvious, isn’t it?”

“Just try it.”

Well, there was no harm in trying at least. P-r-o-g, enter key.

The ticket sale interface booted up. We had managed to guess our way into the presale.

August rolls around in unexpected silence. Amidst the stress and worries of beginning a new semester bubbles the excitement of another show. Yestival is finally here.

The second school day of the semester promised a show with the lineup of a lifetime for someone like me after my classes finished. By the time I left campus that morning, I was filled with a slew of emotions that in just a handful of hours, I was going to be seeing three of my favorite acts in one night. It still hadn’t quite processed with me; I wasn’t ready yet.

Mom and I spent our time getting ready and looking nice, as well as a friend of mine and my twelve-year-old cousin—I introduced her to Yes, you’re welcome—and double checking to make sure we were prepared for the trip down to the venue. Considering traffic, it could be a long drive to Los Angeles.

But this was my big night. I had to make sure I had everything down to the dot. Camera, check. Portable charger, check. Water bottle, check. Ticket, check. Lipstick in case a refresh was needed, check. Vinyl copies of Fragile, Oops! Wrong Planet, and Emerson Lake & Palmer just in case… Check. And of course, two working sharpies—one black and one metallic silver—check.

With only a little sweat and a few tears, the four of us safely made our way down to the city, only with a few small scares, of course. LA drivers can be scary for us small city folk.

But we arrived right on time, and lucky that because of our assigned seating, else we would probably end up being pushed towards the back of the venue. People were being let in just about a half-hour after we arrived. Lines weren’t a problem for us tonight.

Once we were inside the building of the Microsoft Theater, everything seemed to set in for me. The day was here; this was actually happening. After a quick trip to the merchandise stand, I checked my camera for what must’ve been the tenth time just to make sure it was in proper working order, and to figure out exactly which camera setting was the best for where we were sitting towards the middle of orchestra center, and the lighting we were going to be in. Because of venue rules, I couldn’t take my actual professional camera with me, so I was stuck borrowing Dad’s point and shoot. But it’s gotten me some good concert pictures before, so this show might not be so different in that regard.

Within perhaps another half hour, the lights dimmed and my heart skipped a beat. Carl’s group was up first, his amazingly large and precise drum kit already having been set up the moment we walked in those doors. The large television screens beside the wings of the stage lit up, and…

“This is… Jeopardy!”

Wait, what? What was going on? Why would a clip of Jeopardy be on display during Yestival?

“Actor Michael of Lost, silver screen siren Veronica, and Hall of Fame Baltimore pitcher Jim.”

“Emerson Lake and Palmer.”

Then the Cheers theme.

“I’m an attorney. I work for the… Emerson Lake and Palmer law firm.”

The Simpsons.

“A disc?” Cut to Homer in his car. “Oooh, what a lucky man he was.”

ELP references in other pop culture. An interesting and fun way to introduce the band; I’d never seen anything quite like that at a show before.

And of course, the man of the hour walked out on stage with surprisingly young guitarist and bassist whose names escape me—it was Carl Palmer. He looked the same as I’d always seen him; getting up in his years, but visibly takes good care of himself. Carl had always been in good health ever since he was young, and it certainly showed during his performance.

Their set began with a lively performance of none other than one of Keith Emerson’s masterpieces, “Hoedown.” And let me tell you, Carl’s performance has not downgraded a single percentage—he still plays like a fiend at the age of sixty-seven, and his bandmates were great too. He even kept his shirt on through his entire portion of the show. I suppose he stopped doing that years ago.

They rocked each song, though they had a short set of only five or so songs. “Hoedown,” “Karn Evil 9 1st Impression Part 2,” “Lucky Man,” “Knife-Edge,” “Fanfare for the Common Man.” None of them were sung, except one.

Carl began to speak about how one of their most known numbers, “Lucky Man,” came to be. “I said to Greg, ‘when did you write this?’ And he said, ‘when I was about twelve-years-old.’ I said, ‘well, it’s pretty good!’ And we have a surprise for you as well.” The band began to play, but under the dimmed stage lighting, a fourth man walked out. It was Todd. Todd was singing “Lucky Man.” He put on a new twist that fit more of his vocal style than Greg’s, but he still did a lovely job. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was on the verge of tears throughout the entire number.

Carl and his band’s set soon came to an end, though I would’ve loved to hear more. But during the short intermission, a voice over the PA system announced that Carl would be out signing autographs in the lobby for those that have purchased merchandise. I can’t remember ever springing to my feet so fast.

My friend, my cousin, and I all quickly made our way back out to the lobby to wait for Carl to step out and meet us. Being so quick, we luckily beat the majority of the large group of people wanting to meet one of the geniuses behind Emerson Lake and Palmer. Now I was truly glad that I had brought my vinyl with me.

As I approached the table, I felt surprisingly calm in the presence of one of my favorite drummers of all time. He was still sweating from the show, fresh off stage, but he offered me a very warm and friendly smile.

“Hello! How are you?” he asked me as he quickly signed both my vinyl and my ticket—which I’m giving to my best friend long distance.

The meeting was quick since there was a line and people were being ushered along, so I couldn’t talk to him much. But at least I can say that I now have a signed copy of Emerson Lake & Palmer and a gift for a friend from the man himself. He was a sweetheart though we couldn’t stay long.

Now it was time for Todd’s set. I knew full well that most, if not all, of what Todd would be playing would be his newer material including songs from his recently released album, back in May. The wall lights dimmed again but the stage lights turned on. Kasim Sulton, Jesse Gress, Prairie Prince, and keyboardist whose name I also can’t remember walked the stage to their designated spots, followed by Todd’s backup dancers. After a moment, Todd himself joined the group.

Todd’s set was longer, but a good one. It was fresh and new, the majority of it I hadn’t previously heard. What was also a nice plus were the stage lights, which added to the effect of the music itself. His singing is so different now from what it started as, but he’s still a powerful and dynamic singer and musician in general. Famous or infamous for it, Todd is always changing. He and his band brought a real drive to the show with both his presence and his music, but it was certainly different from what Todd fans might be used to, but I don’t hold that against him. Even Kasim got his own bass solo, which I loved.

The band closed with three of his more popular gems both with Utopia and as himself, “One World,” “Hello It’s Me,” and “Just One Victory.” He put almost a new spin on the way he performed these three, but he kept the spirit of the originals at heart, and of course, it was fun to sing some songs I actually knew the lyrics to. For my first ever Todd Rundgren show, I wasn’t disappointed.

But now was time for Yes, the band we were all waiting for. And as a special treat, Dylan Howe, Steve Howe’s son would be joining along for the tour. I myself am a huge fan of percussion, so to know that I was going to be seeing a double drumming experience from my favorite band, it excited me to no end.

The band was introduced not by their usual “Firebird Suite” intro, which is a tradition among older Yes fans and those that have seen them more times than I, but with a different classical song that I didn’t previously know. The overhead screen above them glittered in red and white lights, the cover of their eponymous album released in 1969 outlined in blue. The band walked out and the audience surged with energy that didn’t previously seem quite there with Carl or Todd. The show was now alive.

Jon Davison with his usual smile, Billy Sherwood with a slight strut that almost reminded me of Chris, Steve Howe with his recent beard—and revered presence of course, Geoff Downes with his almost quiet but bold poise, Dylan Howe with fresh-faced excitement, and Alan White with a kind but perhaps just a bit tired expression. The six men took their places onstage, Dylan right beside his father, and the show began.

For their set list, they had picked a song from each of their first ten studio albums. For Yes, “Survival.” For Time and a Word, the song of the same name. For The Yes Album, “Yours is No Disgrace.” For Fragile, “South Side of the Sky.” For Close to the Edge, “And You and I.” For Tales from Topographic Oceans, “Leaves of Green” from “The Ancient.” For Relayer, “Soon,” the ending movement of the album’s epic “The Gates of Delirium.” For Going for the One, the song of the same name. For Tormato, “Don’t Kill the Whale.” And finally, for Drama, “Machine Messiah.” And as everyone loved, the encore was none other than “Roundabout.”

Personally, I’m actually pretty happy with the set list. Some of the songs they played were some of their lesser played songs (from what I know of the two Yes shows I’ve attended), which gave those songs a chance to shine. “Don’t Kill the Whale” even featured an extended intro which highlighted both Dylan and Alan on drums, which added to the song and gave it a fuller sound. It’s not even one of my favorites, but their performance made me warm up to it a bit more.

[Death mention in next paragraph]

Yes sounded much tighter as a band this time seeing them compared to my last time, which was the North American tour in 2015 with Toto. With Chris Squire’s recent passing at the time, Yes was left with less time to rework the band around to fit Billy Sherwood in as a full time member, change the set list around, and shape the general show to honor Chris’s life and his work, so I do not judge them as harshly for that performance. It caused a void within the band when he left us.

[Death mention ends here]

But the show as a whole did nothing but please me. Aside from the sound of the venue seeming a bit off, I was still more than satisfied with what I was given. Jon Davison’s vocals did justice to the originals taking into account that his voice has a different kind of sound—I don’t compare him to Jon Anderson because there could never quite be a “true” replacement for Jon Anderson. Billy’s form on bass shows his tutelage under Chris himself, and he even exudes a personality similar to Chris’s onstage. Like master, like apprentice. Steve’s style never diminishes for me, though he may play things just a little bit differently. Like Todd, Steve has his own changes; he never plays a song the exact same way twice. Geoff did justice to Yes songs originally featuring Rick Wakeman as always, including the song he himself was originally a part of, “Machine Messiah.” Dylan was a great addition to the band in adding some complexities to accompany Alan’s drumming to give it a nice extra layer. Alan only worries me a little; he still plays well, but he just looks a little tired. Maybe a little bit of a longer recovery for him after his back surgery is in order, but he still delivered that night.

But this isn’t where our story ends.

Four hours of prog music obviously left the four of us quite tired, but not tired enough for my friend and I to search around the back of the building for any lurking musicians, just in case we’d be lucky to run into someone. As we made our way back to the loading area, a small group of people stood together and spoke with one another. The two of us didn’t really think anything of it as we walked towards them to meet back up with Mom who had stayed behind. She had set us on a time limit since we had a ways to drive home, and our limit was coming short. Yet, one of the people within the group looked familiar from a distance. We got closer and—

It was Billy Sherwood.

In my mind, Billy was still something of a “new member” to me and I didn’t have a previous attachment to him, so for a very short moment, I almost kept on walking. But I still liked Billy, so when the group dispersed a bit, I stepped forward.

“Hi, nice to meet you!” I began, receiving a kind, happy smile and a ‘hi’ from Billy in return. “This is my second time seeing you with the band and you guys really brought the house down.”

“Thank you very much!” he said, still smiling.

Copy of Fragile and my metallic sharpie in hand, I continued on, “Alright, now, I know you weren’t on this album.”

“No, I wasn’t,” he teased a slight grin in his features. “I was about… Five?”

That made me laugh. Billy seemed quite easy to talk to. “Well, I’m gonna have you sign it anyways.”

He readily obliged, cheerful as can be, and asked me my name. “With a ‘K,’ right?” Making sure his writing was neat, he wrote out the words “Hello, Krista” with his signature and a smiley face next to it. And as far as I know, Billy doesn’t always write smiley faces either, so I held that little fact with pride.

He asked my friend for her name as well, to which I added that I had dragged her along to the show with me. She was not a prog fan originally, but I’m slowly introducing her to the music and hoping to turn her into one. Fingers crossed.

“It’s very different, huh?” said Billy. “Nothing like Jay-Z!”

Once she had her ticket signed, we almost went on our way, but I stopped when two women asked Billy if he had a pen to sign with. He didn’t.

“Oh, I have one! You can borrow mine!” I quickly offered, rifling in my bag for the black sharpie instead.

Billy’s smile showed again. “Krista has one!”

After having their merchandise signed and offering me their thanks for letting them borrow my sharpie, and my “have a good rest of your night” towards Billy. My friend and I quickly made our way back towards where Mom and my cousin were waiting, Billy sending us off with an “I like your dress!”

From a distance, I could see that Mom was waving, but she looked almost frantic. My brows furrowed and I almost felt a little worried, so we walked a little faster. But I noticed that as we walked closer, out of the corner of my eye, someone stood out in my vision. A man stood a head above the medium-sized group of people nearby, long limbed, with long black hair that was partially bleached platinum-silver, distinctive features, and a large pair of sunglasses. Todd Rundgren. It was the Todd Rundgren.

I hadn’t expected Todd to be out meeting fans that night, especially since he had a scheduled meet and greet you had to pay for earlier in the day. Usually with scheduled VIP meet and greets, it’s near impossible to meet any of the musicians for those who couldn’t afford the VIP package. Instead, I had been expecting to possibly run into Kasim Sulton instead; he’s known for always meeting his fans. But I never would have expected to run into Todd.

According to what Mom had told me later, he and his wife Michele were out walking the area by themselves when they were stopped by a thankfully smaller-sized group of fans, bless them. But Todd was his usually cordial and gracious self. As far as I’ve heard, he’s always kind to his fans.

As I waited for the people who had gotten there before me to finish taking pictures and their conversations with Todd, Michele approached me with a bubbling kindness, as is her personality.

“Would you like me to take your picture for you?” she offered, her tone brimming with happiness and excitement. “And what’s your name?”

The two of us made idle conversation as we waited for Todd, including her glancing over my Utopia copy of Oops! Wrong Planet, my favorite album of theirs and one of my favorite albums that Todd has been a part of. She turned the vinyl over to the back side, looking over the pictures of Todd, Kasim Sulton, Roger Powell, and Willie Wilcox. “He looks like our son!” she spoke happily, pointing to Todd’s picture.

But whenever she could, Michele tried to get his attention. “Todd, you need to take a picture with Krista!” It made me happy that she had my interests at heart and made sure that I got my picture in the end.

Eventually, the majority of the group left and it was my turn. Todd and I took our picture together as first order of business with Michele’s help. She took multiple pictures using my Mom’s phone, which I was glad of because it ensured that we got a good picture, and we did. Taking my picture with Todd was actually more personable than I expected it to be. Todd is surprisingly a bit of a shy man offstage, so I was under the impression that he wouldn’t be as outwardly friendly as he was, but I was happily proven wrong. He didn’t seem to mind the closeness, and taking our picture almost felt like a hug from the side.

But of course, I had to have Todd sign my vinyl as well, which he happily agreed to. But before we left, my friend having also gotten her picture and ticket signed by Todd, I had to get a picture of him with my cousin. I had turned her into a Yes fan, but I had yet to bring her into the world of Todd’s music. But he was here, so she might as well get proof of meeting him, right?

“Just one more picture,” I told him, gesturing to my cousin who was standing right next to him. However, Todd thought I was meaning myself, so he reached a hand out to me.

“Oh, no, not me. My cousin.”

He looks confused for a moment, glancing right past where I had pointed considering the height difference between him and my cousin. Yet, he soon glanced down and jumped a little when he noticed her with a bit of a laughing, “oh!” Picture taken. Same old song and dance.

“We’re introducing her to the world of progressive rock,” I had told him.

He showed the smallest glimpse of a smile before folding his hands together. “Be gentle with her,” he said to me with a slightly teasing tone to his voice. “There’s a lot of crazy stuff out there.”

“What did you say about not meeting Todd Rundgren?” my friend quipped to me.

I was happy, Mom was happy, my friend was happy, my cousin was happy—we were all happy, so that was our signal to head on home. But for me, I was on cloud nine. Someone that hadn’t been with us would have hated me during our drive home from how much I gushed about meeting Todd, Carl, and Billy. But I didn’t care. This was certainly going to be a night to remember. One that might even top the Yes featuring ARW, but I don’t like to list those types of things on scales. I don’t pick favorites.

But one thing is for sure: I’m keeping the picture of me with Todd as my lock screen for a very, very long time.

#long post #EXTREMELY long post holy shit I'm sorry #Yes band #non Yes #text #photo #death mention #Yestival #Jon Davison #Billy Sherwood #Steve Howe #Dylan Howe #Geoff Downes #Alan White #Todd Rundgren #Kasim Sulton #Carl Palmer #admin post #Admin Krista

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auburnfamilynews · 7 years

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For 60 divine minutes, we had an answer. (90, if you count the first half in Starkville.) The question, of course, had hung in the Auburn air since at least the 2010 Arkansas barnburner, and maybe since Chris Todd was slinging darts in the rain against West Virginia: How good could a Gus Malzahn team be if he developed a top-tier, Tuberville-caliber defense to pair with a peak-performance offense of his own?

Against Arkansas this past October, we found out. Kamryn Pettway and the offensive line ground the Hog defense to dust; Carl Lawson, Montravius Adams and the rest of Kevin Steele’s defense permitted the Hog offense less than nothing. The final tally of rushing yardage was Auburn 544, Arkansas 25. The final scoreboard read Auburn 56, Arkansas 3. Not even Cam’s national champions, not even the 2013 team in its white-hottest moments registered anything like the kind of scorched-earth obliteration of a bowl-bound SEC rival the 2016 team registered against the Razorbacks.

Which is why, when I took my seat in Jordan-Hare’s north end zone bleachers two weeks later for the Vanderbilt game, I fervently believed Auburn had a puncher’s chance to defeat Alabama, win the SEC, and possibly — it wasn’t totally crazy — get another national title shot. The defense hadn’t been as superb against Ole Miss, but Chad Kelly had made Alabama look silly for stretches, too, and they’d been due for an off-game, and the rushing game had been murderous anyway, and the freshman wideouts were coming along, and Steele would be more comfortable against pro-style offenses anyway, and, and, and, and. The ceiling was that high. This team had shown us. There was no reason it couldn’t keep on showing us.

Then, I don’t remember if it was just before kickoff or just after, my phone told me Sean White wasn’t starting.

I do remember watching John Franklin III take the field and thinking Uh-oh. And at no point for the remaining two months of the season was the status of Auburn football anything other than Uh-oh. That ceiling we’d waited six, seven years for our Tigers to touch? When poor White dropped back in the Sugar Bowl and uncorked the duckiest duck that’s ever ducked, man, that ceiling felt as far away as the moon.

It’s not a scientific assessment, but I’d judge Auburn fans as a whole to be more unhappy at the close of the 2016 season than 2015’s, an assessment that if accurate doesn’t make a damn lick of logical sense. Instead of going 2-6 in the SEC and finishing last in the West, Auburn went 5-3 and finished second. Instead of going 6-6 overall and playing the Birmingham Bowl, Auburn went 8-4 and played the Sugar. Instead of finishing 35th in S&P+ and 29th in Sagarin, Auburn finished 13th and 14th, respectively. And Auburn accomplished that improvement while breaking in its third defensive coordinator in three seasons, adding an eventual playoff finalist to the nonleague schedule and suffering the aforementioned crippling injury to its starting quarterback. By any rational measure, the future looks far brighter than it did a year ago.

So why do I feel like Auburn’s glass is half-empty, even when it’s clearly half-full? Why do I empathize with the criticism avalanche aimed at Malzahn even when I disagree with the overwhelming bulk of it? Why did a season that was so much better than the one before it leave us feeling collectively just as bad, if not worse?

The simplest answer is that the one thing we could expect 2016 to provide us was clarity. Was Gus the coach that in the space of one season brought a 3-9 team to within seconds of a national championship? Or the coach who without the security blanket of a JUCO superstar under center was incapable of even breaking .500? By year’s end, we’d know … except that, whoops, it turns out Gus can be both those coaches not only in the span of a single season, but over the span of a single month. (Auburn fans, you thought you got emotional whiplash going from 2010’s triumphs to 2012’s misery? For our team’s next trick, it’ll go from the Arkansas win to the Georgia loss in all of four weeks.) If you believed coming into this season Gus was the long-term answer, you got plenty of evidence to back you up. If you believed Auburn was better off moving on, you got plenty of evidence to back you up. 2016’s high points were high enough that the team unquestionably moved forward. But the low points were low enough that — much as it hurts to admit — there’s legitimate reasons to doubt how far forward it can keep moving under Gus’s leadership, too.

They’re not all legitimate, of course. There’s things it makes sense to be angry about. There’s things it doesn’t. In the interest of unpacking exactly how we came to be collectively unsatisfied by what should have been a satisfying season, here’s my list of those things, piece-by-piece.

I AM MAD ABOUT: LOSING THE GODFORSAKEN GEORGIA GAME. The Iron Bowl is the game I most want to win. But given the unfortunate state of Crimson Tide affairs these days, the Deep South’s Oldest Rivalry is the game I least want to lose. And that went double entering this year’s edition, what with the Dawgs a mediocre mess that narrowly escaped Nicholls State, lost to Vandy, couldn’t even compete with Ole Miss or Florida, still ranks 58 places lower than Auburn in S&P, etc. And that went quadruple, octuple, hexadecouple when the defense went into Athens and stuffed the Dawg offense in a sack.

I can’t make myself care about how injured White may or may not have been. Can’t about what he may or may not have told the coaches. Can’t about why or why not Franklin or Johnson never saw the field. If all you need from your offense to win the Georgia game is to score more than a net of zero points, for the love of everything holy find a way to score more than a net of zero points. Backup quarterbacks. All-Wildcat offense. Triple-reverse flea flickers. Just please, please, please don’t waste that defensive performance, in this game of all games.

I believe that if Gus’s team cobbles together enough offense not to, no one really much minds losing to Alabama or Oklahoma. But waste it they did. And I’m still angrier about it than any loss since Tony Franklin hit his nadir against Vanderbilt.

I AM NOT MAD ABOUT: GUS GOING 1-3 AGAINST ALABAMA. Quit saying “Malzahn is 2-6 vs. Georgia and Alabama, and almost lost in 2013, too.” The Tide’s rank entering the four Iron Bowls Gus has coached: 1, 1, 2, and 1, and that No. 2 team won the national title. Gus won the greatest game in college football history in 2013, rolled up 630 yards in Bryant-Denny in 2014, and stayed kinda-sorta competitive in 2015 and 2016 despite starting Jeremy Johnson in both. Gus’s track record against Georgia is a major issue. His against the Tide just isn’t.

I AM NOT MAD ABOUT: “NOT BEATING ANYBODY.” Among the anti-Gus brigade, the most frequent method of dismissing Auburn’s post-Texas A&M, pre-White injury run seems to be dismissing the level of competition faced during said run. There’s a number of problems with that approach, first and foremost that ignoring a statistically dominant win over LSU — which is LSU, and which also wound up the SEC’s second- or third-best team, and a good deal better than that according to some — is the opposite of fair. Second, as has been noted already, it’s not as if 53-point home wins or 24-point road wins in SEC play have been commonplace even for the very best teams in Auburn’s recent history. Lastly, those margins-of-victory matter. No, they don’t change the win-loss record, and yes, LSU aside, the teams faced between A&M and Georgia weren’t the cream of the SEC’s less-than-bumper 2016 crop. But pretending a 56-3 win over Arkansas doesn’t tell us anything more about how good Auburn is than a 16-3 win over Arkansas hasn’t been in fashion since before Phil Steele first started tracking close-game records and yardage margins. In the early days of 2017, it’s straight-up willful ignorance.

How much credit to give Gus for a single month is (ahem) debatable, but don’t pretend that for that single month Auburn was anything less than a force.

I AM NOT MAD ABOUT: LOSING THE SUGAR BOWL WHEN SEAN WHITE BREAKS HIS ARM ON THE FIRST SERIES OF THE GAME. The moment White threw that “pass” — you know the one I’m talking about — the only question was how many points by which Oklahoma would win, and if Musberger could talk himself out of a job before the fourth quarter.

I AM MAD ABOUT: NOT HAVING A VIABLE BACKUP PLAN IN THE EVENT OF A SEAN WHITE INJURY. An incomplete list of people and/or creatures and/or objects that expressed concern over White’s durability this past offseason:

Auburn fans

Detroit Pistons fans

The ghost of Harriet Tubman

Squirrels

Atlas moth caterpillars

An asteroid circling the sun at a distance of 600 million miles from Earth

“White showed enough last year that Auburn might be OK with him as their starter,” a sapient paper clip told me last August, “but health-wise, I gotta see him last the year before I believe it. JF3 had better be ready.”

I’m assuming that, being football coaches and thus a good deal more knowledgable than most sapient paper clips, Auburn’s staff shared the same concerns. But in the end, did it make any difference if they did? Their efforts to address them amounted to “sign Franklin,” a decision that proved so successful Franklin 1. remained on the bench even as White’s arm transmogrified into pudding before our eyes in Athens 2. watched Johnson get the nod in the Iron Bowl, a move even the non-sapient paper clips could tell you gave Auburn the odds of winning I have of assembling my own Volkswagen.

Maybe that’s because Franklin proved incapable of running the offense. Maybe that’s because Auburn’s staff was incapable of teaching the offense*. Either way: Gus went into this past offseason knowing an injury to White had ruined a promising end to the season. And he still failed to prevent an injury to White from ruining an even-more-promising end to this season.

*The “Gus can’t develop quarterbacks” line you’ll hear trotted out in relation to this — or to express skepticism that Jarrett Stidham will alter Auburn’s fortunes at the position — is bunk. Tulsa’s quarterbacks got better under Malzahn. Chris Todd got better. Title game weirdness aside, Cam got better. Once-and-future defensive back Nick Marshall threw for 456 yards at Alabama. White’s gotten better every healthy game he’s started, to the point he was the most efficient passer in the SEC when he got hurt. If Gus couldn’t develop Johnson or Franklin into workable starting options, the evidence-to-date suggests that’s more a Johnson or Franklin issue than a Gus one.

I AM NOT MAD ABOUT: LOSING THE CLEMSON GAME. Those guys are pretty good, it turns out. Can’t wait to play them again in Clemson next year!

I AM MAD ABOUT: THE WAY IN WHICH THE CLEMSON GAME WAS LOST. Perhaps I should have let go of my anger over Gus’s Carousel of “Progress” by now. I haven’t. Not because it’s that much of an opportunity lost, really — if Auburn wins that game*, a 9-3 mark with a win over the eventual ACC champs vaults them all the way into … the Sugar Bowl — but because the remainder of the season made trotting out Franklin and Johnson alongside White as three-headed quarterbacking equals look stupid beyond all previously accepted measures of stupid. Could the gulf between White and his backups really be that obvious on the playing field and that obscure on the practice field? Is it too much to ask that if every fan knows this is Sean White’s offense to operate by Week 3, that Auburn’s offensive braintrust know the same before Week 1?

The charitable view is that Malzahn entered this season desperate, and desperate people sometimes do dumb things they wouldn’t otherwise do. The uncharitable view is that if the carousel itself was a one-time mistake, the A&M, Georgia and Oklahoma performances proved the resulting offensive implosion more feature than bug. And ultimately, that’s what makes me maddest of all. Let’s be clear:

I AM NOT MAD ABOUT: WHERE THIS PROGRAM STANDS GOING INTO 2017. Marlon Davidson and Derrick Brown are set to become the new Carl Lawson and Montravius Adams. Carlton Davis and Javaris Davis share as much All-SEC cornerback potential as they do a last name. If losing Alex Kozan and the dreadfully underrated Robert Leff will hurt, returning Austin Golson, Braden Smith and Darius James — oh, and Herb Hand — will heal. The freshman wide receiving crew won’t be the freshman wide receiving crew any more. Kamryn Pettway and Kerryon Johnson will continue to only make the other that much better. Kevin Steele knows what he’s doing, it turns out.

Then there’s Jarrett Stidham, likely the highest-ceilinged Auburn quarterback prospect since Cam, whose arrival means Gus now has — it’s worth repeating — the SEC’s highest-rated quarterback at midseason as his fallback option. Woody Barrett may not keep quiet, either. Auburn’s biggest problem for two years running has been its depth at quarterback. Its depth at quarterback now appears to be one of its biggest strengths. This alone should be cause for unalloyed optimism, even before discussing the positives from the paragraph preceding this one.

That even I can’t summon too much of that logically justified optimism speaks to how much of a toll the past two seasons have taken on our collective faith in Gus’s offensive acumen. Maybe there’s sound reasons for what we saw against Clemson, A&M, and Georgia, sound reasons to believe we won’t see the same things again at the worst possible times. But I can’t shake the feeling that the Gus of the Chizik era would have had his offensive identity on firmer footing before breaking out the Chandler Cox wildcat gadgetry, would have wizarded up something to salvage that trip to Athens, certainly would not have punted on fourth-and-damn-inches with a reeling defense in the second half of the Sugar Bowl. If the past two seasons haven’t felt anything like the Malzahn salad days in the win column, they’ve felt even less like it in terms of creativity, of chutzpah, of the damn-the-huddle-up-torpedoes mentality Gus brought with him from Tulsa. There wasn’t any shortage of spread gurus even in 2009, but as recently as 2014, all the evidence suggested Gus was cut from a unique — and uniquely talented — cloth, even among his HUNH peers. Far too often in 2016, it felt like Auburn was just another middle-of-the-road SEC team, like Gus has become Dan Mullen with better players.

There’s far worse things to be, of course. Mullen took Mississippi State to No. 1 and the Orange Bowl two seasons ago. If Gus giving up a portion of his old bravado was somehow necessary to put together the kind of defense we saw in 2016, it’s probably worth it. No one, myself included, gives a crap about how fast Auburn snaps the ball or how often it goes on fourth-and-short when it’s beating Arkansas 56-3.

I’m not mad Gus will get the chance to prove that performance is what the future of his Auburn tenure will look like. I’m happy 2016 gave us reasons to believe it will. I’m glad to enter 2017 with hope. But 2016 was supposed to take us past belief, past hope, to the point where we know — for better or worse — where Auburn stands with its head coach. I’m mad that it didn’t. And until that point is reached, it’s going to be hard to look back at this season and feel any other way.

Photo credit: @OUDailySports

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