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achliegh · 3 years

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Alright, I had this wonderful idea come into my head about Clayton, honestly he deserves his own fic. So here is his version of events! Lots will tie together with Golden so I recommend you read that as well. But you don’t have to of course.

Explaining:

Before Letter is the present.

Letter is updating the lives of the people back home, of whoever wrote it mostly.

After Letter is memory.

The first few letters will be very awkward because writing letters and not being sure what to talk about and what not to talk about is hard and confusing. Stick with me! Yes, this prologue is just a letter.

TW/CW: Discussions of death, miliatry training, smut, cringy jokes, underage drinking, dumb choices, swearing, and more later on.

Beta: @walking-crisis

Some Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Chapter 1:

Riding With Private Malone

Oath

Boot Scootin Boogie ( Line Dance )

Clayton read the letter over and over with a sad smile, he didn’t want to leave but he also felt like he needed a purpose in life. Sitting around while your lovers are successful isn’t what he pictured for himself. He recently found out that both his birth-parents were in the military and felt like he should follow in their footsteps.

A lot of people he was close to didn’t agree with this. Especially Leo, he was devastated. Probably the angriest Clay has ever seen him besides from when the Sheriff or his family would mention Wyatt.

This was something Clayton had to do. He didn’t know what branch his birth-parents were in so he went with the one that he thought he would enjoy most, the Navy. To be exact, Navy Seal but he has to pass training first. Which he did with flying colours making him on the younger side of the teams. But he felt unstoppable, but he missed his friends and family so much it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He also gave his lovers code names because he was worried what might happen if someone found out he was in a poly relationship that isn’t straight.

He didn’t think people would take too well to it.

He was sitting at the dinky table set up in their tent, they were on a special assignment, he had a piece of paper and a pencil that he found under the cots. He started writing back when his superior officer of their team came in. He was friendly and a good guy but a little aggressive at times. Great leader for the US military.

“Whatcha writing Stinky?” He walks over to take a peek at Clay's letter humming a song that constantly plays on their old satellite radio, Riding With Private Malone, and frowns. “Clay.” He rests his hand on Clay's shoulder making him look up. “You can’t write them back, they can’t know where we are or what we are doing.”

Clay lays down his pencil and stares at his letter.

“How will they know I’m alive?”

Deer Bestie,

I’m only writing to you because it feels right, Oath came on, remember that song? The one we would sing to each other every time it came on. It was the stupidest song but it always reminds me of middle school when we sang it in front of the school at the talent show. Stupid but worth it.

I’m still not over how you just got up and left after everything happened. It was two weeks after the worst week of my life and you just left. Gone.

You didn’t even have the thought in your head to tell me when you first signed up! You waited until the week before you left to tell me because you knew I would try to convince you not to go. You fucking idiot! I don’t think I will ever forgive you for this.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. I miss you so much.

Logan and Finn are amazing and doing all they can to make sure I’m okay. I love them, but it isn’t the same. They don’t know me as well as you and I just miss my brother.

No one has heard from you and I swear if you end up being dead I will never forgive you. I will be so fucking pissed I will meet you in hell and beat you up.

Come home Clay, please come back safe.

Love,

Leo

P.S.

You're a dickhead.

Pushing the doors open with vigor Clay and Leo strutted into their bar like they owned the place. Seeing new faces around the bullpen, Leo and him shared a knowing look and hopped the fence as a man with glasses got thrown from the bull again. Clay helped him up as Leo went over to the control board where a strikingly handsome man stood next to him. All broad shoulders and deep-toned skin. But Clay had a girlfriend so he didn’t look as long as he wished he could. Instead cracking jokes with this character in front of him.

He looked around at all the new faces, they all were attractive well-built men, he guessed professional athletes but all the logos he saw on shirts and hats. His eyes landed on two men who seemed very very close, passing a cheap cig back and forth while talking to Jimmy, the auctioneer that worked for Clay's dad. When he locked eyes with the shorter man with green eyes he knew right away.

Leo was going home with them.

Leo whistled at him as the other man walked off and Leo hopped on the machine. Saying goodbye to James, at least he thinks that's the name he told him, and walking over to the control board with Leo’s settings. He pressed the start key as the crowd sang with the song that was playing.

He cheered Leo on as he was thrashed around, catching the two guys who he spotted earlier just drinking Leo in. Lucky. It wasn’t that Clay didn’t like his girlfriend, it was just, she didn’t satisfy him in the ways he wanted. It was always about her so clay would have mediocre sex, sometimes good depending on how mad she was at him.

He had told her that he likes to be… more submissive in bed. She would make fun of him for this and while Clay enjoys being degraded he doesn’t enjoy it when it's because she thinks of him as less than a man. It really bothers him but she doesn’t care.

Later that night Boot Scootin Boogie comes on and Leo drags him to the dance floor after they had a few drinks, dancing in time with everyone else. Leo turns to him and sing with the song

“I want a shot of that redhead yonder lookin at me.” He winks at said redhead and notices the look he gets from both men. Clay smiles and laughs, shoving Leo playfully to get back in line. They dance until the song ends and wander back over to their drinks and sit as the next song starts up.

A couple songs later and Leo is waving goodbye as the two drag him out of the bar by his belt loop., Clay lifts his drink as a salute to him and drinks it in one go. He stands up and stretches, now that Leo is gone he should probably go or else Ashley will find out and give him hell for it.

“Hey yeehaw, come here!” Clay looks around and then points at himself in a questioning way when he sees who was yelling. James. Nodding James beckons him over and pats the seat between him and the man from earlier . “Your friend just stole two of our teammates!”

“From the looks of it, it seems your teammates stole my buddy.” He smiles when a man with practically white hair and a thick accent hands him a beer. “But they did seem his type.”

“Yeah, those two have been in love for years but won’t admit it. It gets really tense sometimes in the locker room.”

“What do y’all play?”

“Hockey” The man Clayton was purposefully avoiding looking at says. He takes a drink instead of answering him.

“Y’all enjoying the music? Doesn’t seem like something y’all would normally listen too.” He smiles when he gets clapped on the back by a laughing James.

“If you have better suggestions for country music we would love to hear them. Maybe we will start playing it in the locker room.” The man smiles at him and Clay feels his face heat up as he imagines being under him. The alcohol is really starting to hit.

“I- Yeah, I can give you some.” He can’t tear his eyes away from the man. He gives them loads of songs to listen to and some even come on in the bar. He sees James making a playlist and makes fun of him for it. Clay doesn’t really listen to playlists, seems boring to always know what songs are coming next.

His phone goes off with a text alert, he reads it and his face falls a little. He stands up and salutes the guys as he says goodbye and walks out the bar in a hurry. Outside waiting for him is his pickup, with Ashley in the driver's seat. He gets in and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

They drive in silence back to his house.

#leo knut #clayton bruss #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #thomas walker #noelle tremblay #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #sweater weather #lumo

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shemakesmusic-uk · 3 years

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With her Vanilla Shell EP celebrating its one-year anniversary last month, Danish-Chilean composer Molina is back with another abbreviated record in the form of the new single 'Cold,' featuring vocalist Jonas Bjerre, arriving with a pair of B-sides. The brief collection of songs continues her simultaneous journey inward toward the roots of Chilean music and outward into her own unique vision of the future. The project lands with a video for the A-side, which dreams up bizarre fantasy iconography in the tradition of Grimes and Björk to complement her subdued take on these artists’ out-there recordings. Blending ambiguous electronic sounds with the familiar drone of cello and Bjerre’s backing vocals, the track’s distinct persona may have more in common with the experimental soundscapes of artists like Jenny Hval or Julia Holter. [via Flood]

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Maisie Peters has debuted her brand new single, ‘John Hughes Movie’. Described as the first single from her soon to be announced debut album, it’s a song about unrequited love, inspired by the legendary film producer and his classic coming-of-age teen comedies like The Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles. The track comes alongside a video co-written by Maisie and director Louis Bhose (Loyle Carner, Arlo Parks, Lewis Capaldi). Maisie explains: “I wrote ‘John Hughes Movie’ when I was 17 about a house party that I had gone to. It’s a really honest depiction of being a hopeless, melodramatic teenager, being awkward and drunk and getting your heart broken by people you don’t even remember anymore. John Hughes films encapsulate that foolish romantic energy of high school and everything that I, a small town English wannabe Molly Ringwald wanted to be, but was not.” [via Dork]

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South London's Josie Man has returned with sentimental new single 'Cuts & Bruise', marking her first release of 2021. 'Cuts & Bruises' follows October 2020's 'Grow' single, and is accompanied by a Andrea Mae-directed video that shows couples enjoying tender moments, including Josie Man and her boyfriend. [via Line Of Best Fit]

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Jessie Ware has shared a new short film for her song 'Remember Where You Are'. Her album What's Your Pleasure? arrived last year, a disco-fuelled missile that presented some much-needed good vibes amid lockdown. The songwriter returns to the record for her song 'Remember Where You Are', a soulful and uplifting slice of UK songwriting. There's now a full video for the song and it's steered by BAFTA winning director Dominic Savage. Starring British actress Gemma Arterton, it opens on Valentine's Day and finds the star wandering through deserted London streets. A glimpse of hope and renewal, it taps into the growing feeling that this time, lockdown might be coming to a permanent end. "It was a real pleasure to collaborate with Jessie and Gemma on this short film that is inspired by Jessie Ware’s beautiful music. It was also inspired by the real feeling that was felt when we filmed in the deserted streets of eerily strange lockdown London on a Saturday night/Sunday morning,” Dominic said. “The feelings and emotions in the film are a true reflection of what that felt like, and what this time invokes. Sadness, nostalgia, pain and defiance. But when we climbed Primrose Hill and the sun started to rise above the city, there was real hope and joy for a future that will surely be ours. Listening to Jessie’s music. There is no doubt of that." Jessie adds... "This song has always meant a lot to me and I was determined for other people to hear it and for it to be single. I am so touched by how many people have embraced this song, particularly when it's one of your favourite actresses and an acclaimed film director. Working with Gemma, Dominic and their team has been an absolute joy. To have them realise my song with a beautiful ode to London and the longing for human touch and interaction couldn't be more of a compliment. It's a truly cherished piece of work." [via Clash]

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Jaguar Jonze has shared her new single and video 'CURLED IN' ahead of the release of her second EP ANTIHERO on April 16, both via Nettwerk Records. 'CURLED IN' presents all her best qualities at its outset. From the track’s rip-roaring, slicing guitar to her perfectly forceful, omnipresent vocals, 'CURLED IN' is a pure cathartic release. "Tear me apart, just tear me apart," she all but demands: "I've never seen wrong be done right." She's fulfilling her simplest needs, and it's freeing. "It's a bit of a twist for me to be a masochist." As a survivor of abuse, these words' unafraid power is all too apparent and an engaging statement to hear expressed.

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Following the release of eclectic and impressive debut singles 'ASOS,' 'Right Time,' and 'Papercut,' rising left-of-center pop singer and songwriter Dava returns with a fresh and bold new single 'New Ceilings' available now via Sony Music's Disruptor Records. The moody anti-pop record was co-written by Dava and Mike Adubato (Del Water Gap, Grace VanderWaal) who also produced the track, and is the latest off the Los Angeles-based musician's forthcoming debut EP, Sticky, due out later this year. On the inspiration behind her new single, Dava shares, "This song was written about survival and staying true to yourself. I was having a hard time financially after moving to LA and my phone was shut off while on my way to this session. I was upset with myself for prioritizing music when I really needed the money from driving Uber to stay afloat." She continues, "The day I wrote 'New Ceilings' I was angry and I wanted a song that felt empowering and validated all the work I had put in up to that point. I ended up choosing different songs for my project but when I revisited this one year later, I felt it needed to be heard because of how authentically it embodies my struggle."

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London-based Fifi Rong, a multi-talented avant-pop songstress, has shared the video for her stunning single, ‘Another Me’. Directed by Rok Pat, the video for ‘Another Me’ is stylistically simplistic, as Fifi Rong uses her own body as a medium of art, painting herself and inviting the simple imagery of waterside reeds and plants. A tranquil mysticism embraces the single as Fifi Rong acts as a gentle siren, luring the unsuspecting in yet known the inevitable outcome of the relationship. Speaking of the concept behind the single and video, Fifi Rong tells us: “In any doomed romance, timing is always mysteriously wrong. This is my first full CGI music video and it visually portrays the elusive nature of the character surrounding the key message: 'you won't find another me'. The undertone of the song displays a sense of pride and confidence in the character’s melancholy. Dressed in nothing but petals, I wanted my character to symbolise purity, nature, truthfulness, vulnerability and the divine feminine form. Acting as a rotating statue, I wanted to mark the passing of time and seasons as if a unique and lonely piece of art on display.”

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fuckyeahharryhart · 4 years

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PART 3 HARRY HART FAN FICTION Because they better give him a good story for the last Kingsman. In case they don’t, I wrote something myself.

PART 3

FAN FIC

KINGSMAN III: REDACTED

MULTI PART SERIES:(My version of Kingsman 3)

Harry Hart x Original Character

Warnings: Reference to violence

Word Count: 5,000

OVERVIEW: After the events of Kingsman, The Golden Circle, Harry, Eggsy and the rest of the survivors rebuild their agency to it’s former level of integrity. A new player arrives unexpectedly, carrying memories of the past that will change the future of Kingsman.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Gwendolyn, having played her last card, shares a drink with Harry and Eggsy while she tells them who she is, where she came from and why she was spying on them.

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The Black Prince Public House stood on a quiet corner in South London’s, Kensington. The pub dated back to the early 20th century and its name referred to the road where it stood. The wall were painted a dark forest green with black trim. Its name was displayed in gold. It was the place to go, its sign stated, for FINE ALES AND STOUT, but the three patrons inside, seated at one of the booths at the rear, decided that something a little stronger was appropriate after the evening’s turn of events.

Gwendolyn decided this was a drink she was waiting for her whole life and, therefore, if she was going to “celebrate”, was not the right word, perhaps “commemorate the occasion” was a better term, she was going to do it properly. She had acquired a taste for fine scotch and chose accordingly. She was quite sure the two men were slightly taken aback when she ordered three The Macallan 25’s, neat, for the table. She was fairly certain that this warm, friendly, unassuming neighbourhood pub would not carry The Maccallan M Edition, or the Silver Jubilee, or the Dalmore 64. so she didn’t inquire, but even the cost of the three glasses would be relatively extravagant. The price wasn’t a concern of hers and she was sure it wasn’t a concern of the Kingsman, whose coffers went deep. She wasn’t beyond offending any gentlemanly sensibilities this evening. They were beyond chivalry. And she wasn’t about to tolerate either of them possibly ordering for her.

The two men regarded her if she were a new species of female. She probably was. There were female Kingsman agents, but they too, followed Kingsman protocol, regardless of gender. The behaviour, actions, mannerisms of all Kingsman were consistent, familiar, reliable, while she was under no such constraints. If her behaviour this evening was unseemly, “unladylike”, she really couldn’t give a rat’s arse. She was here for a reason and her methods got her job done. Perhaps with less grace and finesse than she was hoping for, but she got her results.

The three short tumblrs of scotch were placed in front of them. It had been a very long time since The Black Black Prince had poured not one, but three from that particular bottle. As it was custom that the host, or hostess for this matter, make a toast and she didn’t yet make a move toward her glass, the two men waited to follow her lead. So now they decide to be polite, she thought.

“Well, then.” she began. She was slightly irritated at their seemingly perfect presentation, at least on Harry’s part. Eggsy was not beyond taking a more relaxed shape and leaned back into the booth. His tie was loosened and his suit coat unbuttoned. His hair slightly mused even though he did not participate in any of the more physical aspects of their evening, as if that was its natural state. He would have shrugged out of his jacket if it weren’t for his shoulder holster.

Harry Hart, returned back to his gentlemanly demeanour, sat straight, but comfortably, his suit and tie still perfectly in place. Even his hair had somehow returned to its initial state, smooth waves brushed back into shape. It made her feel somewhat uncomfortable to see him so poised after the physical contact they had made. She had flipped him over her head, had a knife to his throat, kicked him fairly hard in the shin, and he looked none the worse for wear. Only his expression, equal parts indignant, concerned, and vaguely offended, revealed that anything of interest had occurred.

In contrast, even turning toward him was likely to throw her off balance. A feeling she did not enjoy one bit. Just her quick glance in his direction and she could feel him behind her again, pressing against her, the long line of his legs, the broadness of his chest across her back, the sheer size of him, the smell of his wool suit and the cologne, soap or whatever made him smell so good and she felt a rush of blood rise up to her cheeks. She clenched her jaw and flushed. She was hoping that they would take it for her high emotional state after their confrontation, not the fact that she found herself neatly attracted to a man she only just met and almost twice her age.

His refined manner only made her that much more aware of her own disheveled state. Her hair, a black cloud that had been blown all over, her pedestrian attire, though not unattractive, in no way matched the elegance of their Kingsman suits. No cosmetics, no adornment, not that those elements of her outward appearance were particularly important to her, in the face of their stately masculinity, she felt decidedly unfeminine. And regardless of her feelings, she knew that her looks were as much of a tool for a spy as her words or actions. She convinced herself she wasn’t concerned just because she wanted Harry to find her attractive.

Her personal feelings seeped into her professional persona. She reeled back her thoughts and replaced them with a cool, calm, collected mindset with a specific objective. If she kept her personal feelings at bay now, she could let it all out after her mission was accomplished. She drilled into her brain, be smart now, feel later.

Until she felt differently, she approached this as she would any other meeting of an asset or target. What she needed from the relationship and how could she get them to do what she wanted was just as much about finding out what they needed, and how to make it seem she was giving them what they wanted. Almost every relationship was based on a desire to be heard and understood. Wants and needs were always self-revealed, unwittingly or intently. She just had to listen.

Unfortunately, for this first meeting, she would be the one doing most of the talking. She knew being genuine, sincere, and honest, would be in her best interest. The more and better we are heard and understood, she thought, the more we are willing to and want to engage and respond. The sensation of being listened to was a powerful motivator and feeling enhancer to all people, it was human nature. It was why we befriended those that listened to us, worked for those that heard us, and fell in love with those that understood us.

——

“Well” she repeated, refocusing. She shifted her posture, drew her shoulders back, lifted her head a little higher, and held the space around her. Composing herself just as she would with any new asset would put her back on target. Remember your training.

“I’m sure you have many questions.” She opened up the table.

Harry, as direct as she, got right to the point.

“How are we to trust that you are really Merlin’s daughter? He never spoke of family.”

He folded his hands together, looking stern with a slight narrowing of his eyes, his brow with just a hint of a furrow.

Harry’s eyes roved over her, her posture, hands, the angles of her face. He listened to the inflections of her voice, searching for any tells that might indicate she was being less than honest. He looked for any hint of the tall Scotsman in this young woman. The loss of Merlin was still a wound that was raw. For both he and Eggsy. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone using his death as an excuse, no matter the reason, but especially if it was a false one.

“He wouldn’t have.” She replied bluntly. “

“ How much did you know of Hamish?” She asked.

She emphasised the pronunciation of his given name. Hay-mish.

“That is, before he came to Kingsman.”

The two men glanced at each other, but did not speak. Admittedly, they did not know of Merlin’s past. He never offered, and as gentleman, they never asked. They both knew that spies usually became spies because of something dark and fucked up from their past, and Harry had no doubt this was the same for Merlin. Hence, he never questioned his unwillingness to disclose his life prior to Kingsman. Harry was the same, just as unwilling to divulge his own personal information.

Eggsy, “That doesn’t mean anything. Anyone can say that.”

Harry leaned forward slightly, emphasising the importance of his words. They were low and sharp.

“If you really are who you say you are, then you know that his loss is one that we still feel every day.”

He shot a glance toward Eggsy, who more than anyone, felt the weight of his death.

“We will not condone anyone using his name for their own motives. Have you proof?”

She surveyed them for a moment. She considered her words and chose them with care. Her words were all she had and they carried a heavy weight. They had to be strong enough to deliver the message she was about to send. He eyes moved to her drink, still untouched. Mindfulness was key. As was paying attention to their responses, observing them with the intent to understand. Through her words, she would see how they felt, what they were thinking, and most of all, what they wanted or needed.

She cleared her throat. She met one pair of eyes and then the other. She poised herself to say something that, to her, held the utmost honour and importance. She took a deep breath in. At the end of her exhalation, she spoke. Her voice was low as well. Her words were even more powerful for her lack of emotion.

“My father’s favorite song was ‘Country Roads.’ by John Denver.”

The entire room seemed to suddenly quiet with stupefaction.

“My father was singing it, when he stepped off of a land mine to save both of your lives. And to save your mission. For my father, the mission always came first.”

For the two men, this was an impossible statement. No one, set aside Eggsy and himself had that knowledge. Not even other Kingsman.

Harry spoke, this time with frank disbelief. He wasn’t even questioning her. He was asking himself. Out loud. Without his familiar strength and surety.

“That is impossible. There is no possible way you could know that.”

With the same poise, the same simplicity, she explained.

“I was there when he died.” Observing their state of bewilderment, she clarified. “Via satellite and reconnaissance drones.” Which didn’t ease their confusion.

“If you worked with my father, you knew he was a brilliant strategist. He wasn’t merely good, he was gifted. He had the talent of an artist. Some of that talent filtered down to me. I’ll never be as good as he was, but I was good enough to hack the communication band that Statesman had in place for reconnaissance and I had access to audio and visual of the events that led to, and after his death.”

Impossible would never have the same meaning for them again. Because this young woman’s story was utterly impossible. Yet, here it was, an impossible situation.

She turned slightly toward Eggsy and held his blue eyes with her grey. Her voice took on an undefinable emotion, “I know that he took your place on a land mine, Eggsy.”

And with that confession, he was forced to drop his gaze. Is this how Harry felt when he had to tell him that it was due to Harry’s own mistake that Eggy’s father died? Guilt was physical. It was a crushing weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe.

“I know that he died in the way that he wanted.”

She added with a note of empathy and understanding to slightly ease their guilt and their shock.

“He was able to give his life for those close to him.”

Neither of the men could think of anything to say. Harry Hart, who was never at a loss for words, found himself unable to find a single word that would be appropriate for a time and situation like this.

Gwendolyn sighed internally. At least now she had their full attention. She was quite certain that she would not be interrupted this time around.

“Perhaps,” she said. Her voice now carried a softer note. It was not the voice of an agent. It was the voice of a daughter.

“Perhaps, I should start at the beginning”.

“But first.” she paused and picked up her glass, holding her arm out toward the men, the glass in her hand.

Harry and Eggsy, first exchanging a look in the other’s direction, followed suit. Each man took a glass and waited, with the warm golden liquid breaking up the lines of dim light that hovered over their table.

She suddenly felt overcome once more, as she had been when she first stepped off the train and onto the concourse on her arrival. She channeled that emotion into her toast, which was brief and heartbreaking in its simplicity.

Holding up her glass, “To my father, Hamish Mycroft.” She paused. “And to Merlin.”

Each of them held the gaze of the other two as their glasses touched with a light, crisp ring. Each drank back its contents.

——

As three glasses hit the hardwood of the table. Gwendolyn began to speak. Her story was a long and complicated one. And unfortunately, the two men could tell, it would be a sad one. An unknown daughter of a colleague that you’ve known for most of your adult life doesn’t suddenly appear after his death with good news.

“My father, whose given name was Hamish Mycroft, was married. He had three children. Two boys and a girl. I was the youngest.”

The slightly blank, yet confused faces made it seem like she had already given them more information than they could process. She paused, gestured to the barkeep for another round. The scotch would do good to kick in soon, because her story was not going to get any easier.

“Before he had a family, he worked with far east intelligence, recruited after his time in the army, where he had been stationed in Tibet, Bhutan, and other East Asian territories.”

She nodded her thanks to the barman, who delivered their second round of drinks. The scotch should have been savoured, but she felt at the time, a tip back for her father was right, even though he would have been horrified to see her shoot back a scotch of such high quality. This one however, she would sip.

“While he was working as a field operative at the station in Bhutan, he met a very beautiful Bhutanese woman, Evelyn, my mother, who was also working intelligence, but as a handler. Based on their skill assessment, they were assigned to work as a team. They would run missions together. My father as the operative. My mother, his handler. Hence, I myself am half Scottish, half Bhutanese. If you’ve had difficulty pinpointing my ethnicity. It’s not a common pairing.”

“Even though the agency opposed ‘close and continuing’, inter-agency relationships and relationships in general, Hamish believed that he could live a normal life. That he could have a wife and family despite working in intelligence. They were an example of having a successful home life in addition to a successful career and they were very happy for a long time.”

Merlin as a husband and father were the farthest roles that Harry and Eggsy could imagine him in. The brusk, often testy, disagreeable scotsman, with all the warmth of a potato, with a wife and children.

Gwendolyn continued with her story. Pausing after a long stretch for a sip of her scotch, but for the most part, continuously and without any interruption from the two men. They were both a bit stupefied that one of their closest, most respected and trusted colleagues had an entire past of which they had no knowledge.

—

Hamish was smitten at first glance. On Evelyn’s side, it was more appropriate to say that she tolerated his presence . And even that was putting things kindly. Eventually, he was able to win her over with his rough Scottish brogue, his biting sense of humour and dry wit. Underneath the sarcasm and abrupt, even gruff personality, she sensed a very kind soul who possessed a good heart. It was simply being protected by a shield designed to keep people at arms length.

Though as handler and operative, there could be no shields. There could not be even a hairs breadth distance between a team, let alone an arms length. The operative’s life was literally in the hands of the handler. If they weren’t working, existing, breathing as one, it would be only a matter of time until the operative would find himself in a position where he needed his handler, but the handler wouldn’t be able to provide. Or the agent, not fully trusting his handler, withheld crucial information, therefore setting up his handler to fail in the case where he needs life threatening assistance. These relationships often ended in the death of the operative, as he had to fully entrust not only the capability of his handler, but also fully trust the person behind his earpiece. The relationship had to be based, on not only on professional compatibility, but on a personal and emotional connection as well. Whatever jesting nature, or standoffish front either of them first presented to each other dissolved when they were on mission. The trust was profound. It was scary to know the circumstances they had been through together and how much each of them put their lives in the hands of the other.

Their relationship was highly personal, intense, and emotional. The nature of their relationship was a powerful force behind their choice to be together and to devote their loyalties to a single agency, with a singular mission, to preserve life and to protect the innocent. However, this often resulted in taking out some very bad, very large, very powerful players off the world’s stage. When they both proved themselves more than capable individually, and even beyond exceptional as a team, they were brought on to the Maximum Threat, Maximum Risk Special Operations Division, or MTMR.

The MTMR, only dealt with the worst of the worst, and then the unthinkable of the worst. These were the terrorists, the warlords, those with enough power and influence to bypass almost any law, any treaty and any world decree. Those who would violate human rights and the rules of engagement. They were the worst of the worst, but also the lowest of the low. In their eyes, life was a commodity to be traded, abused or without value and discarded at will. This is what happened when psychopaths achieved power. Without empathy, without a conscious, without a sense of right or wrong or any moral accountability, without any value of life. These were the most dangerous and most difficult enemies to engage. Not only could they commit the most horrible atrocities, they were usually narcissists as well, dynamic, charismatic, even charming. Therefore, their inner circle was comprised of sycophants who provided his narcissistic supply. They eliminated those that were either immune to their charms, or were beginning to understand the true nature of their personality, which was that of a very highly functioning psychopath.

In this division, Hamish did not operate in the field, but joined Evelyn in strategic planning and outcomes. They worked as a team. Hamish, with his knowledge of the field as a Special Operations Officer, possessed the skills to operate weapons and explosives, to take on missions to gather intelligence and destroy targets in hostile environments. He knew the dangers, the variables, the best strategies.

Evelyn provided critical thinking. She had the ability to predict outcomes, to make the most difficult life and death decisions without hesitation and be a leader to her team . The pair became an invaluable asset to the division. It was proof to them, when the agency acknowledged their value, not as separate agents, not as a handler and operative, but as a team, that they could be in the world of espionage as husband and wife with a family. The agency saw that their success was based on not only their expertise, but BECAUSE of, not despite their relationship. The closeness, the sheer absolute trust that they had in each other, and their love kept them committed to each other and their work. They experienced both a fulfilling family life and successful professional life for longer than anyone could hope for in their line of work.

During their successful tenure in the MTMR Special Ops, one operation took precedence over all others. They were both actively involved, not only in gathering intel, but in the entire intelligence cycle. First, with planning, identifying possible threats and what they needed to know about the threat with world leaders and decision makers. Collection, which was the division they both began in, the physical collection of target information through operations. Analysis, examining the new information, looking for connections, key points, new developments, and combining it with what they already knew, creating useful and actionable intelligence. Lastly, was Dissemination, where the new intelligence was discussed with politicians and decision makers who then decided whether to take action or if more information was needed.

It was during one of these cycles, where Evelyn and Hamish were assigned as head officers of a mission. It was a mission that resulted from intel that their team had collected, analysed and produced. The target was an international underground world leader, not of any established or recognised government. He threatened to destabilise society. Not through government or any means of authority. He wasn’t targeting positions of leadership. He wasn’t engaging in the trickle down theory. He was starting at the bottom. First, was taking out crops, tainting water supplies, poisoning livestock. He did not bother with small areas. He targeted the largest ones. Locations with the most impact and the widest effect. Civil unrest was next. Which turned into peaceful demonstrations. Then came active protest. Followed by violent protest. Then it was rioting, looting. And when fear took hold, it was domestic terrorism. He was using the countries own people to destabilise the structure, the foundation of civilisation, which was based on people working together.

Apparently, he was not one to follow the saying, “The fish rots from the head down.” Meaning that without sound leadership, the people will eventually turn bad and die off. When in actuality, the guts, the contents of the fish begins to rot first. Perhaps the warlord followed this philosophy. Corrupt the innovators, the providers, the creators of sustenance, essentially the life givers, and civilised society will begin to rot from, not the head down, but from the inside out.

In conjunction with the US, the British Armed Forces and other key international allies, they were able to coordinate an airstrike. It was successful in so much that they destroyed their enemies home base, their world HQ and well as almost all of their high level leadership. However, they missed their main target. Also on the strike list, was the home of Azal Aamon, which was where he was supposed to be at the time of the strike. His family, wife and two children were to be collateral damage. Unfortunate, but sometimes unavoidable in times of war. But after reviewing the DNA evidence to confirm the targets as deceased, his family was identified, but Aamon’s DNA was not found. No one had knowledge of how he was able to avoid or survive the attack. The last piece of intel that they had verified, was his location at the time of fire.

———

Inside the Black Prince, Gwendolyn paused. She reached for her drink, lifted the glass to her lips, and took a small sip. Harry saw her jaw working as she let the scotch rest on her palate, allowing it to reach all the areas of her tongue so she could appreciate its aromatic notes before she swallowed. It was a gesture he was familiar with, one that he made every time he enjoyed his own drink, but it was especially interesting to see this decidedly, he was not a sexist in any way, shape or form, but this particularly male gesture take shape on her extremely feminine and delicate face. He felt decidedly uncomfortable. So he simply took her lead and followed suit with a swallow of his own. As did Eggsy, who was leaning forward at this point, his elbows on the table and his tie even more undone, as were the few top buttons of his shirt. Harry as always, remained properly attired.

She looked at both of them, her eyes inquiring, silently asking if they had any questions, if they needed any clarifications, to see if they understood. To confirm that they believed her.

Harry was particularly intrigued. Out of all the coincidences that seemed to be happening, he knew precisely, the mission she was referring to. The British Armed Forces did take part in the Aamon mission and he knew this because he was part of the BAF at that time. He had been directly involved in the operations side of the mission. How was it possible that he had this experience in common with Merlin and it never came up in conversation? He thought back to the rare times where they would share stories, sometimes while waiting out a mission, or after a successful one, over a drink just like this. He recalled sharing a few stories from his time in the military, but thinking back, could not recall a single instance that Merlin even mentioned his time in the army, or anything really prior his employment with Kingsman. Harry only knew that he had been military. Out of all the possible connections that they had, one of the biggest ones that they shared remained unknown until after his death.

Gwendoyn was regarding him thoughtfully, knowing that he had made some kind of connection or realisation, but she didn’t mention it and he was grateful. He tipped his head, asking her to please continue.

“As you can imagine, this was seen as a failed mission on paper, since they did not terminate their main target. But in many ways it was a huge success. An operation of this scale, with multiple targets on the board, with international military and intelligence coordination, with minimal collateral damage, is typically unheard of, and my parents were honoured to have lead their intelligence division. I’m not sure if Kingsman participates in this particular tradition, but after high risk missions of this nature, officers and operatives, if it is feasible, are offered time off, mostly to decompress. The agency is aware that if their officers and operatives work at that level of intensity for prolonged periods of time, they will burn out. It’s not possible to sustain that level of stress at length without a chance to wind down.”

It was quiet. Gwendolyn has stopped speaking. Harry could see that she was taking time to collect her thoughts again. He wasn’t sure why she needed to. She was recalling a very complicated and personal story with an eloquence, a clarity and a dignity that he respected very much. She wasn’t just reminiscing about a story, reciting history, or a past event. Their comprehension was important to her. This wasn’t about her “getting something off of her chest”. He had the feeling that she could be very happy never having to say any of these words ever again. She wasn’t looking for support or understanding. She was making sure that THEY understood her story. It wasn’t sympathy for her that she wanted. She was looking for absorbtion Particularly from Harry. Most likely because he had the longest relationship with Merlin. But she was fixing him with a very intense gaze that he was not quite sure what to do with.

Harry already felt a particular sadness. He knew where this story was heading. He might not know the specifics yet, but you didn’t need to be a spy to know there was no happy ending for her. Out of a family that was once a mother, a father, and two brothers, this woman was the only one sitting in front of them. His respect for her was growing with each moment. He was feeling quite sorry now, for treating her so roughly.

She picked up her story, dusted it a little, found where she left off and resumed. Her voice became detached once again, but her words never faltered.

“We were all on break. Because they both got time off, that meant the whole family was on break. It was very rare for us. For the family, for me, those times were very special. I don’t remember many other times we had that kind of chance. Of course, outings were still agency outings. I was really too small at the time, six, but that was our life. I didn’t know any different then. But my parents, because of their positions, were at high risk for retaliation and we always had protection with us. My brothers and I had protocol, even back then. No speaking to strangers, at all. Never speaking about my parents, never offering any personal information. Never giving out my name. If we were ever to get lost, we were never to ask for them or speak their names. We had one number to call and it was not even theirs. It was the agency’s number, created just for us to have in case of an emergency. There was actually a person whose job it was to be prepared if they ever received a call from us. Very few people, and only those with high security clearance, had information about our family. We were referred to as assets. Not by our names.”

As she continued, The more emotion left her voice, the more matter of fact she became, as she became more composed, more stoic, Harry felt his sadness slowly turn into inevitable dread. He was also aware of the second mission that followed up the first air strike. He was also assigned operations support for the BAF’s involvement. He had heard stories about what had happened at intelligence HQ, but never anything confirmed. If she had been involved in that, it was worse than he thought.

------

Look for future posts :) If you made it this far, thanks for reading! Feedback, likes and reblogs are always helpful and much appreciated. If you have a chance, would love to hear your thoughts!

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fanfic-inator795 · 4 years

Note

Once Rise sucks me back in on the seventh, I plan on drawing that Hippoworm wedding pic (sorry about the wait btw), so if you wanted to elaborate on that (either the mutant or Repo’s Seven AU version of their wedding) I would like to see if I could work any headcanons in, or at least have them in mind while I’m drawing?

Awww, thank you! ^v^ And no worries! I totally get kinda losing interest in a project for a bit cause of various things, and your art is totally worth the wait! ^v^

Heh, I’m not sure how many of these you can fit into a drawing, and it’s totally fine if you can’t fit them in, I know I’m gonna love your drawing no matter what! ^v^

But I’m gonna list out as much as I can just cause I love gushing about/thinking about fictional weddings (if only because a. I love my OTPs and I wanna see them happy and b. there’s a good chance I’ll never get married, and if I do it’ll most likely be a quick courthouse thing, so this is my outlet. Apologies in advance if this gets kinda long, lol). Anyway:

Mutant:

For obvious reasons, they couldn’t go all out, but they did as much as they could, having a small ceremony in Central Park at night with the reception being at an empty warehouse down at the docks (since their apartment would be WAYYYY too small, even if there’s less than a dozen people attending their wedding.)

The ELoM attend (mostly for the free food, but also because hey, it’s a sweet occasion and despite their villainy, they aren’t heartless.)

Meatsweats even offers to bring the cake, and Warren and Hypno agree since it’s the one dish he can’t put mutant meat in. Todd officiates so who knows if it’s completely legal but whatever, it’s a real wedding to them at least and that’s all that matters. They also make sure to record their wedding so they can watch it over and over

Warren was a bit of a groomzilla, because he loves Hypno so much and just wants everything to be right and perfect. He never takes it out on Hypno, thankfully, but everyone else kinda has to keep their distance until he’s able to chill tf out

Hypno makes all the flowers for the ceremony himself through his magic. LOTS of roses - mainly pink, purple and yellow with red at the tips (which, of course, symbolize friendship turning into love)

They walk down the aisle together, Warren on Hypno’s shoulder and the two of them holding hands (er, finger).

Hypno’s vows are so dang sappy and romantic that it takes Warren a few minutes to calm himself down enough to say his own vows. Warren also includes a bit of Maori in his vows as a nod to his husband’s culture. It’s a bit broken, but the message can still be understood and Hypno is still touched by the gesture

At the reception and after the first dance, Warren sings a love song to Hypno, wanting to give Hypno a little something extra since their dancing is really just Hypno swaying back and forth with Warren in his hands, and Hypno absolutely loves it, practically falling in love with him all over again on the spot.

Not that it matters really cause of the mutant situation, but Hypno takes Warren’s last name, hyphenating his own and becoming Mezmer-Ron “Hypnopotamus” Patel-Stone.

...idk if they’d actually do this but the idea is kinda funny to me so I’m mentioning it here: A couple weeks later, they stage another wedding and invite the Turtles to it, turning it into an elaborate trap.

“I can’t believe it. You would pretend to get married and fake a whole wedding just to try and capture us?!”

“Oh no no, the marriage is legitimate. We had our actually wedding at the start of the month.” “Technically this is our honeymoon.” *the two share a kiss* “We just thought that since we had all this leftover wedding stuff, well, two birds with one stone and all that.” “Just consider it a wedding present to us, since getting you four out of the way for good really would make my happiest day even happier!”

Of course the Turtles escape and Warren and Hypno are defeated, but they quickly shrug it off. It was worth a shot, and at least they still have each other.

Repo’s Seven AU:

While they may be human, they still can’t afford a HUGE ceremony, but it’s still a lovely one. They’re able to rent out a nice dining hall, at least.

Warren’s parents and work friends come, and while Ron’s able to invite friends as well, his mother and a couple of his relatives are unable to attend since they’re all the way in New Zealand. It’s a bit of an emotional hurtle that Ron has to get over, but at the very least his mother is able to send her love and they’re able to send her video and photos in return

I could see Ron wearing a sharp looking black suit with a purple tie while Warren wears a very handsome baby-blue suit with a white tie

Maori songs and vows are incorporated into the ceremony

Again, Warren takes a moment to sing a love song to Ron during the reception, because I love that idea too much for it to only exist in one universe

The two pretty much spent all they could on their wedding and couldn’t afford a honeymoon at all, but they didn’t mind. After the reception, they just went back to their apartment and spent the rest of the night together. Talking, cuddling, kissing, a bit more singing on Warren’s part since he got a bit tipsy lol, lots of expressions of love since it is their wedding night after all, and eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Both were admittedly disappointed that they couldn’t take a trip, but after such a perfect wedding night, they couldn’t really be disappointed anymore and just enjoyed their long weekend.

After the events of Repo’s Seven/they’ve become secret millionaires and after they’ve moved out to California and settled down some (Warren getting a new newscaster job, Ron getting a couple nice breaks as he continued working towards his dream career as a professional stage magician, getting a house, etc.) the two decide to have another wedding ceremony and are able to renew their vows in Ron’s New Zealand hometown.

Granted, even with all the money they have now, they don’t go insane with it or anything, but they are still able to treat themselves and have elements of their dream wedding

This includes doves being released when they have their kiss (Hypno’s idea), lots of gold incorporated into the decor (Warren’s idea), and an actual band for the reception (both of their ideas). Stuff like that, where it’s a bit of a splurge but it’s not like they’re burning money on stupid or unnecessary stuff

So yeah, these are just my ideas, and I’d honestly love to hear a fellow Hippoworm fan’s ideas, since I’m sure yours differ at least a little from mine, and like I said, I just love talking about fictional weddings ^v^

#rottmnt #theclownfromdowntown #hippoworm #warren stone #hypnopotamus

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snowflake-of-destruction · 4 years

Photo

This isn’t something I normally participate in, but, since I didn’t write much in June and shared hardly anything(something I plan to change in July if I can), I thought I should give some proof of (creative) life if anyone wants it.

Under the cut, a series of tiny excerpts, most more than six sentences, of different Kingdom Hearts pieces to be rescued from the limbo of “half finished chunk of something in a google doc.” Some of them belong to WIPs and some are from various other things started and then interrupted or....we’ll say set to a back burner.

All excerpts headed by a bolded header in the style of

Title of Piece This Belongs To (Brief description of what kind of fic that is in between parenthesis)

Advantage Rule (Isalea Modern AU. First Chapter Up On AO3. More Info There.)

"You lost or are you the new caulk?" The speaker didn't fit the typical profile of a tech professional, especially one that worked behind the scenes with the coders. Mid-fifties judging by the lines on his face with thinning blond hair so light you could hardly tell where some parts had gone silver combed to stick up as a compensation for where it threatened to recede and leather skin that said he'd worked outside in some decade past, paired with a southern accent that seemed stronger than it was with the effect added by the toothpick precariously balanced in the corner of his mouth. He'd rejected business attire in favor of cargo pants and a dark blue flight jacket that looked like they'd been bought in the last century, and the look in his eye was so fierce without prompting that Axel had to wonder if he was a failsafe for the air conditioning breaking down.

"Am I the what?"

"Caulk." The toothpick switched sides of the man's mouth with a roll of his bottom lip. "Fixing the leaks? The cybersecurity specialist? Axel Lea?" His impatience mounted by the moment. Working on the fourth floor would certainly be interesting.

"Yes, sir. That would be me." Axel tried to smooth the way with deference and the easy smile that rarely steered him wrong. "Does that make you...?"

"Cid Highwind. I'll be showing you the ropes. Now that you've seen fit to grace us with your presence." Cid continued to stare him down and Axel wasn't sure if he was supposed to apologize or bare his teeth and smack his chest like a gorilla to challenge the alpha.

Without False Hope ( First Chapter Up On AO3. More Info There. Akuroku KH/FFX crossover)

Axel was waiting for them, or it seemed that way at least and Roxas didn’t think himself vain for thinking so, when Roxas spotted the lanky redhead not jogging himself but leaning against a pole until he saw the Crusaders approaching and then falling in next to Roxas just behind Xion as she bellowed, "Young Crusaders gather 'round," the beginning of a call and response chant that the rest of them would answer with a promise to knock enemies back and stand their ground or an alternate about beating Sin beneath the ground if they were feeling

Axel finished the line a beat before the Crusaders would have, substituting his own words. "...Eager for Sin to put you in the ground." Roxas's heart, which had soared for a moment when Axel had come up beside him and dared to hope that Axel's first words would be a version of sorry or an invitation out somewhere without other people, took a sharp plummet to his toes then returned to his chest angry at being mocked.

Assorted grumbles and shouts showed many others felt the same way, but Xion seemed to take it in stride, sing-songing her own improvised lines that continued the cadence of the original chant without missing a beat, "Young civilian come to heckle and stare. What would you do if a fiend attacked and we weren't there?"

Axel near stumbled but recovered and let out a short bark that might have been a laugh he wasn't sure he was allowed without inviting training Crusaders to make him pay for it, afterward rumbling in an impressed tone, "You, I like,."

"You should. " Xion shot back and her casual tone alone was enough that everyone else in the formation knew Axel was an acceptable stranger even if he was rude, and that they should ignore the intrusion. "I'm not sure I like you back. Roxas has been mooning and it makes him impossible."

Guardian Force (Akuroku. Axel and Roxas in the next life, living as NPCs in the world of/during the story of FFVIII. Part of my eventual plan to show Axel and Roxas living out every Final Fantasy game. Unpublished/First chapter never completed because I decided on Without False Hope/a FFX crossover instead)

"You often talk to yourself?" an insolent lazy drawl came from somewhere to Axel's left and he turned, eyes narrowing to see a boy in a rumpled Balamb cadet uniform lying across the second highest step, book in hand, vibrant blue eyes, ice eyes like he'd junctioned Shiva right to his vision, trained on him over the spine.

"To my Guardian Force," Axel explained, though that seemed worse. Over six foot of height and lean muscle and the SeeD uniform Axel wore at least enough parts of for it to be vaguely recognizable that he belonged to the elite unit, all usually worked together enough that there was usually no reason to be embarrassed by anything he let slip out. Nobody would laugh even if Axel welcomed it.

"Thought you didn't like using Guardian Forces," the lounging student's voice was just as nonchalant as it was before, but his gaze was sharp, interested, and he spoke as if he knew Axel.

"Have we met?" Axel knocked the sole of his left boot against the side of his right as if scraping mud off the bottom. It wasn't odd for him to shift constantly even when mostly still, unless he was specifically called to stand at attention. There was an air of discomfort about the present action though, when taken with how jade eyes known for constant analysis on and off the battlefield, seemed attracted to the handrail of the steps rather than searching the face of the boy that had just spoken to him with familiarity. Axel's normally iron stomach soured immediately at the idea they had met and he'd forgotten, to the point he couldn't even bring himself to try and jog his recollection. All he could do was force out his least favorite question next to 'when did that happen?'

Lollipop (Soriku and Akuroku. College AU/Modern AU. Unpublished. Sora and Roxas in an acapella group because that was the only way I could work out how to get them to sing and do choreo for songs that get stuck in Shaky’s head, which was the Goal of the Day one day before I got distracted)

When Sora said he had a new idea for a piece for the CrescenDudes' next performance, Roxas had been more than happy to volunteer to work on the arrangement with him. Sora was great for ideas, large picture and little flourishes that made a song a show, and he was, hands down, who you wanted doing choreography, even if he tended to get carried away and not realize there weren't many others with the dance and movement background he had in their group, but he wasn't suited for the musical side of sculpting a piece. He'd sing what he was given and he'd stay on pitch doing it, but he had no idea to weave songs together to form a mashup that sounded natural and created the right feeling in a crowd, and he'd forget to accommodate for everyone's voices or go the opposite direction and try to highlight everyone and have twenty solos. So it was up to Roxas to take his vision from neat idea to reality, and he jumped at the chance. He'd do anything at this point to distract Sora from dragging him into wedding planning for a few days when that should be Riku’s job as the other groom.

Hourglass (Unpublished. Self-indulgent BBS Era--at least for this excerpt-- story about KH Squall/Leon and Seifer growing up in Radiant Garden and explaining how they got to be on separate planets and separate ages by the time KH1 rolls around. May be competed and posted to AO3 or just used as a base/record of headcanon for sprinkling backstory references in other pieces.)

Seifer challenged Lea and Isa to break back into the castle and come back with proof this time. He would have just called Lea a liar, but that would lead to Lea trying to fight him, which would lead to Isa trying to fight him, which would lead to Squall getting in the way, thinking Seifer couldn't handle a two on one fight with some chicken wusses. Then Squall would still try to sneak into the castle himself to see Ellone anyway--and she wasn’t in the castle in the first place...probably. Seifer would have to drag Squall’s ass out of there, and, if they got caught by the Royal Guard, then they’d be the next rumored prisoners in the basement. It was safer to make it be Lea and Isa's challenge.

Lea took the bait. Isa, surprisingly, added they were planning a return trip anyway. Squall shot Seifer a questioning look, which he ignored in favor of taunting Lea and sealing the deal, "I can't wait to see you two hobble in tomorrow after getting your asses beat by the Guard. Try not to hit your thick skulls on the flagstones when you get thrown out."

Drowning (Unfinished/unpublished. Placeholder name. Sorikai. Supposed to be for the Sorikai Summer Event. Prompt: Drowning. Long one shot about eight times one of the Destiny Trio has nearly drowned and then been saved by the others)

Their first prototype of a raft had fallen apart underneath them in open water, the ties that lashed the planks together having not been as securely tied as they could have been--the book on sailor's knots Sora had provided was a lot more obtuse than it had seemed at first, descriptions dense and picture demonstrations too sparse. Kairi and Sora each fared well, each grabbing onto a floating plank to drift a minute and orient themselves after being plunged into the water. Riku was less successful, being fixated on saving as many of the supplies Kairi and Sora had gathered (coconuts, mushrooms, and bottles of water mostly, though there had been a tackle box that Riku's father would kill him for losing if he had to go back and face him, and that was what Riku was primarily focused on) and exhausting his breath on too many dives in a row without recovery in between until he was lightheaded from not taking in enough air in his hasty gulps when he broke the surface and increasingly imprecise in where he chose to come out of the water until he hit his head on the bottom of the plank he was loading the recovered supplies onto and went down without resurfacing.

No Set Recipe (Unfinished/unpublished. Sorikai. Supposed to be for the Sorikai Summer Event. Prompt: Ice Cream. Kidfic. Sora’s mom is left with the job of explaining polyamory while making homemade ice cream with a group of five and six year olds.)

It was all Selphie's fault to start with, though if she was going to be ascribed the blame for the hurt feelings, she would have to be given credit for all that happened after, which Riku and Sora both agreed she did not deserve, even if Kairi was more magnanimous, so it became habit just to talk of the ice cream and the impact it had on their future. Still, the most accurate account begins with: one day when they were all young-- too young to even be allowed to swim in the water surrounding play island without an adult in the surf with them, if that gives perspective--Selphie, to everyone's surprise, scored the winning goal in the game of land-blitzball the group of them were playing in order to decide what game they would really spend the day playing, and chose, to absolutely nobody's surprise, house.

Everyone accepted their fate and divided into family units with minimal grumbling, phrasing which means that Wakka threw the blitzball into the sea and lost it forever when Jecht--the parent chaperone on play island that day who was five minutes away from falling asleep on the sand and typically didn't care what they did, unlike most parents who at least had restrictions about not hitting each other in the head with wooden swords or throwing sand, and was the favorite of the children for that attitude of freedom to make mistakes being a better teacher than rules--refused to go into the water after it.

Selphie, however, found a problem with Sora, Riku, and Kairi's family. Specifically, she didn't like that the family was Riku, Kairi, and Sora all together parenting a yellow coconut Kairi was trying to rock to sleep while Riku built him a bed out of sand and palm fronds and Sora cooked dinner for the household--a savoury stew of sticks, sand, and mushroom. She stood with pursed lips and hands on hips, and declared that their proud coconut son, Rekka, couldn't have all three of them for parents because that wasn't how things worked.

"Why not?" Sora asked with all the curiosity and innocence of a child.

Riku tried a more practical, solution based approach with, "Can we change the rules?"

Kairi was more direct and firm, her, "It does if I say so," leaving very little room to argue.

#snippets #not clogging tags with this though

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brooklynislandgirl · 4 years

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Repost, please don’t reblog.

Tagged by: @down-in-dixie {thanks dearie!} Tagging: @tabbyrp, @corinnebaileyrp, @multi-mused {Ink, or whomever else you want}, @mynameisanakin. @whosxafraid, @macdiari, @nolegacies, @riggsanity, @therealgamble, @rugini, @yourlovingspy, @untamedgoodoleboys, @agentharrisonofshield, @a-kitten-with-claws, @jemmaqueenofspace, @sohelish, @morgansmornings, @thedarcydichotomy, and anyone who wants to!

Senses and Other Oddly Specific Headcanons

Elizabeth Riley

1. What does your muse smell like? Beth’s hair smells like ginger, pineapple, and star-fruit. Her skin smells like warm vanilla and sunshine with a twist of macadamia nut, a kiss of sandalwood. Her breath is clean and sweetly cinnamon. Her clothes are fresh linen and a little more sandalwood. Essentially, she smells like an exotic tropical smoothie and cookies.

2. What does your muse’s hands feel like? Beth washes her hands a lot. She’s very careful then to keep them properly moisturised so they are soft and smooth. She has a raised callous on her middle right finger from where her pen rests when writing. She keeps her nails short and well manicured. The texture of them usually falls between the softest suede and satin.

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day? Like a lot of things, Beth tends to forget to do this. Her typical breakfast consists of a triple espresso vanilla soy latte, or a triple shot ��dirty’ chai soy latte. If she’s lucky, Jay will remember to throw a vegetarian breakfast sandwich at her or maybe some kind of pastry. Lunch is a myth at any hospital, and she will subsist on a cliff-bar or something grabbed from the hospital cafeteria {if she didn’t remember to bring left-overs}. Dinner is whatever restaurant will deliver a meal after seven in the morning that isn’t breakfast. Beth doesn’t cook, doesn’t really know how, and has no less than fifteen restaurants on her speed-dial. There are some days she doesn’t bother to eat at all. She knows it’s not exactly healthy, that she is clinically underweight, and likely nutrient deprived.

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice? Beth’s voice is smokey...in that it’s a little deeper than it looks like she should have {people tend to think she should have a girlish or squeaky voice}, it’s often measured in such a way that it comes across as thoughtful, because she has to think about speaking ‘properly’. It’s often a little faster when speaking Hawai’ian or pidgin because she’s far more comfortable with those. Singing though, she’s a little too pitchy, a little too breathy to be *good*, not anything close to her brother in terms of power and technique, but that doesn’t stop her from Karaoke nights. If a comparison has to be made, her voice falls somewhere between Norah Jones and Melody Gardot.

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks? Beth has a habit of biting the inside corner of her lips, or sucking the lower one in between her teeth when she’s nervous, upset, or confused. Less overtly, she cuts into her palms with her nails in similar circumstances. She eats meat occasionally {she is a sucker for bacon, or traditional Hawai’ian food}. She drinks perhaps too much coffee though she’ll tell you there’s no such thing. She sometimes ‘forgets’ to take her medication, especially when she’s on an upswing or bordering on a manic phase.

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear? Beth’s personal style is as minimal as possible. She doesn’t wear much make up if any at all. Unless in one of a dozen bikinis on the beach, she tends to camisole style tank tops or sleeveless blouses, floor length and gauzy skirts, ankle bracelets and sandals. Professionally she wears ‘adult’ versions of the same, paired with her lab coat. In winter, if it’s cold, she’ll add leggings under the above, and socks instead of her preferred bare feet. Her wardrobe would be considered ‘bo-ho’ but she hates that term as it is culturally appropriating from Hungarian and Czech peoples. Conversely, when she has to make social appearances for the family or for a charitable event, she has a small selection of designer couture evening gowns and a small country’s gross domestic production worth of jewellery which is usually held hostage at the Admiral’s estate so she isn’t tempted to ‘liberate’ it for the masses.

7. Is your muse affectionate? How much? How so? Beth communicates more easily via touch than she does with words; touch doesn’t lie. It cannot be misinterpreted, it can’t be twisted up and turned around. So she’s the type that gestures a lot when she talks, tends to reach out and touch the other person’s hand, shoulder or knee...whatever really happens to be in reach. She is incredibly soft-hearted and expresses herself with kisses to someone else’s cheek or brow, fingers that ruffle or card through someone else’s hair, a kiss to the back of a neck, long and lingering and often spontaneous hugs. Holding hands. Cuddling in a pile of soft blankets on the porch or on the rooftop lounge, swinging in the hammock. When romance creeps into the picture, there’s even more of this kind of display, as Beth has the instinct to drape herself over her person as much as she can. Skin to skin contact is the most soothing, most tranquil state of being for her. Soft sharp kisses. Little bites that go just a smidge too deep.

8. What position does your muse sleep in? Beth always ends up in a fetal position, no matter how she starts out {usually on her side}, unless physically restrained. Even as an infant this was true, and around the age of two she started sleeping in her brother’s bed, trying to take up as little room as possible, and is still something that occurs no matter if she’s sleeping alone or with someone or multiple someones. She is a space hog, be warned. If you’re sharing a bed with her...it doesn’t matter how far apart you are...she will gravitate toward you and wrap her limbs, vine like, around you. If she’s in a bed alone, she will do this to the biggest pillow.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room? Not in the least. Beth was raised to be seen, not heard, and she’s a homebody when work and time permits it. She’s a very soft-spoken person, unless she’s in pain beyond what she can endure {which is a phenomenally lot}, or close to nuclear explosion angry. Those are the only times when she gets very loud, in combination of throwing things, shattering things, and generally having a melt-down.

#Mahalo!Dixie darling!#She's Talking to Angels {Bethisms}

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everythingoesnk · 5 years

Text

Oh What a Night

summary; you’ve been the stylist for everyone involved in A Hard Day’s Night, including The Beatles. at the premiere afterparty John has a clear goal: you

word count; 2 684

warnings;

********

Flashes, screams and a deafening round of intense applause landed upon the four of them, welcoming their presence to the party. Each person in the room cheered flagrantly to show their support and devotion.

Tingles coursed through your being when your eyes found him among the crowd, instantly bringing heat to your face and chest.

Except for the bath scene where he only had swim trunks on, in every shot of the film he was sheathed in the same suit. The one he slipped on for the event seemed pretty similar, all black and classic, but the difference was that he chose to put on a bow tie instead of a tie.

He looked so fine. You were fanning yourself without even knowing you were.

Of course you wouldn’t pick up on the fact that the other three cherished the same option. You only had eyes for him.

That small switch on his attire was enough to awake the butterflies in your stomach.

At the same time that he smiled back at everyone who interacted with him, he looked like he was searching for a particular face.

You quickly turned your back at him and joined the first group of people you bumped into to prevent him from seeing you.

While pretending to follow the thread of what they were discussing, deep down in the depths of your heart you knew that what you really wanted to happen was the opposite. For him to find you, take you home, sing near your ear and spend the night together under the covers.

But no, that wasn’t happening. Not after the countless times you refused to go on a date.

For months, ever since he’d been introduced to you on set, John had been insisting, more like pressing, to invite you somewhere to get to know each other. It was like an obsession, he just wouldn’t stop dropping the subject at any chance he got.

It’s not like you didn’t want to, but you were under pressure at the time. You were instructed to get the work done, not to befriend or flirt with the stars, and your priority was to not get fired.

John assured multiple times that he wouldn’t get you in trouble, If they ever consider firing you they’ll have to talk to me first being his exact words. Yet you didn’t succumb. The flirting and courtship never went away, though.

Did you have a reason to reject him now that you weren’t professionally linked? Technically, no.

Completely zoned out, you were biting a nail when a male voice you were familiar with told you if you kept going you’d end up losing a finger.

Lifting your eyes you cracked a smile, relieved to finally talk to someone you knew.

“(Y/N)” George Martin greeted, happy to see you. He placed a hand on your arm and rubbed it up and down a few times. “How are you, darling? Everything okay?”

By the end of the filming you two established a solid friendship.

Given that after the director yelled ‘Action!’ you weren’t needed, you sat one day with him without knowing who he was or why he was there, and kept doing so ever since during those gaps you had for yourself.

“Yeah! How about you? Did you just get here? I haven’t seen you around”

“I did, but I’m not staying for long. I’ve a lot of work to do tomorrow and I don’t think I’ll enjoy myself with all the stuff I have going on in here” he said, pointing at his head.

“I understand”

“What are your plans then, did you sort things out?”

His question concerned a series of issues you mentioned him you had with a girl you shared your flat with, but she finally paid what she owed.

“Yes. She moved out, by the way. And I haven’t changed my mind, I want to study fashion”

“You’ll be great. I can’t wait to see people on the streets wearing your designs, or myself”

You smiled widely. He told you he loved them when you showed him your sketches.

Then, one instant later, for whatever reason, George’s eyes were no longer on you but over your shoulder. They stayed there for a good ten seconds before he looked down at you, a half jovial smile adorning his lips.

“See, I’m supposed to meet a few people and if I don’t I’m screwed”

“Oh”

“Have a good night, (Y/N)”

“You too, George” you replied, watching him flee away.

You slowly turned around with your brows furrowed, glancing down at the floor thinking about how fishy his farewell had been.

You shook your head. He had to go, nothing to overthink.

However, something inside you suggested to look ahead, and when you did, your mouth hung open.

John was prowling his way towards you.

Panic washing over your rationality, you found yourself not knowing what to do. Why were you intimidated in the first place? You weren’t sure.

But you were positive you weren’t in high spirits to deal with him now.

You began to walk in the direction George departed.

John, seeing your intentions to escape, jogged until he positioned himself before you, blocking the way.

You moved to the side and he did too. Considering your odds, you stood still.

It was pointless, so you sighed as a surrender, showing him he won the battle. But at the very first sign that he lowered the guard, you sprinted to the left.

Bold of you to assume that he wouldn’t get his hands on you.

“Dirty, dirty girl,” he taunted, his top teeth tugging at his bottom lip while he made sure you wouldn’t break free, hands gripping firmly at your sides, “were you running away from me? Why?”

“I wasn’t” you lied. “I need to go to the restroom”

“To fix yourself up for me?”

Without much effort, he spun you around and captured you in his arms before you had the opportunity to attempt to leave. Though he was aware that you soon quit insisting to free yourself, and that made him grin broadly.

John bowed his head first, and the tip of his nose touched yours on purpose. He threw it back a little afterwards, just to be able to see you properly.

You were blushing so bad it wasn’t funny.

A naughty smile curved his lips.

“I’ve always loved the way your cheeks turn into biteable apples whenever I’m around. Would you be so considerate to grant me the pleasure to have a taste?”

You wanted to slap him and the little demonic version of you settled in your mind who was nodding her head frantically. The angelic version shrugged her arms and pouted.

“Will you please let me go?” you asked with a stern look.

“Under one condition. Maybe two”

You rolled your eyes and listened closely.

“Let me go with you to the bathroom. A thing could lead to the other and—”

You brought your hand up over his mouth and he smirked against your palm.

The shudders that reverberated all the way through your body made you angrier. Your anatomy wasn’t helping you at all, anxious to find out what words would have rolled off John’s tongue if you had let him finish speaking.

He crossed his eyes playfully and you had to bite your lower lip to stop a giggle from emerging.

Ungluing your hand from his face, you held up a finger against your lips, motioning him to stop being so loud.

He grinned whilst nodding his head, eyes boring into yours but falling and lingering on your lips eventually.

A waiter carrying a tray with two full glasses approached and John took them from him without asking. The guy’s face was to frame, but when he saw it was the incomparable John Lennon of flesh and blood he murmured an almost imperceptible polite ‘Sir’.

John reached his hand out for you to take the drink.

“Champagne?”

The two of you swallowed the liquid in unison.

After some time of non-existent conversation and you staring at the other end of the room where Ringo was happily dancing with Maureen, you dragged your eyes back to John hesitantly.

He’d been checking you out.

He met your gaze with a filthy look and drank the remaining bit of whatever was left at the bottom of the glass, not losing eye contact in the process. It gave you fever to witness him so greedy for you.

A stirring in your abdomen made you press your thighs together, but you put on a straight face setting aside how your brain released dopamine galore.

John’s eyes twinkled.

“Don’t you stand there like you’re drained of any emotion towards me”

You gave a harsh short laugh while your heart throbbed roughly in your chest. The audacity.

“You’re so full of yourself”

“Nope. I don’t think it has anything to do with my ego”

“What’s your excuse, then?”

“You make me nervous”

For a brief moment, you considered he possibly had pushed his reckless behaviour away.

You huffed, a rosy blush staining your cheeks, and he massaged the back of his neck.

John looked at you and felt shy all of a sudden.

“Did you have a good time watching the film?”

“I did. The whole thing is amazing, Lester really did a good job. My favourite part is when you’re all dancing to Can’t Buy Me Love”

He stared at you, really stared at you.

Enraptured by the tenderness in your voice, he found the confidence to pluck up the courage to step closer to you.

“What about the other condition?” you reminded.

John chuckled. Eagerness coloured his tone.

“Never mind”

“Is it what I think it is?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You tell me”

“Was it a date?”

“What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat?”

“Was it a date?”

John paused.

“A date?”

“Yes, a date” you answered, raising your voice.

The crowd surrounding you lolled their heads in your direction.

“Gee, (Y/N),” John teased, glancing at the bunch of people that had their eyes on the both of you, “no need to roar. I’m blind, not deaf. And yes, I agree to have a date with you” he added, flashing a glowing grin to you and the audience, exultant that he got you where he wanted.

Shit. A tedious warmness rose to your neck and up to coat your face.

“No, no. You know I didn’t mean to ask you out”

John emitted a lazy whine.

Shaking your head you turned it to the side, folding your arms. John paced forward and poked you under your ribs. You jumped and slapped his hand.

He tugged you against him, but you wouldn’t jerk your head his way, refusing to look at him.

Chest to chest, yours was raising and falling with nervous breaths.

John wanted to lift your chin, but you wouldn’t let him.

“(Y/N)”

Nothing.

He tried again, angling you to look into his eyes.

“Can’t you see I’m just hopeless?”

His voice felt like a loving, almost romantic, caress.

“Now that shooting’s over I won’t get to see you anymore”

He suspired.

“Won’t you miss me?”

Very easily, you could feel your walls slipping. Beating around the bush, you were certain that you would. He didn't have a clue about how a dreamy smirk would be roaming your lips every day when you left the set to go home, recalling whatever cocky and goofy pick-up line he told you with the hopes to gain your affection.

Your pulse was racing.

You nodded, staring right into his pupils.

“Then stop playing so hard to get. I could be kissing and touching you right now and we’re having this absurd conversation instead” John observed, recovering the composture and standing on his full height.

Overwhelmed, you couldn’t even verbalize a monosyllable.

John grabbed you by the hand and spotted the door where he first walked through.

Excusing himself to everyone that wanted to stop him and chat, and ensuring that you were okay along the way looking back every once in a while, he took you to the rear of the hotel that luckily happened to be deserted.

Like the gentleman he truly was, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

Glancing down at you, his fingers still holding the top part of the lapels, the beat of his heart was quickly out of control.

The bow tie suddenly felt too tight in his collar.

“Are you going to kiss me now, John?”

He swallowed and directed his gaze down to your mouth, his own watering.

Muscles in your tummy clenching, you put your arms around his neck.

“Please say yes”

“I’m not sure I can deny you anything, love”

And the next thing he did was brush his lips over yours, relishing their sweetness before fully capturing them.

You pressed your body against him when he placed both hands on either side of your face, cradling it lovingly, melting under his touch. More than once you fantasized about this, but never would you have guessed you’d instantly become addicted to his taste.

A husky grunt erupted from his throat, and in perfect harmony, he massaged your tongue with his. Movements that you reciprocated.

You breathed his name, which made him want to be a little rougher on you, trailing his hands around your back until they cupped your ass.

“John, John”

You stopped kissing him when guests of the party unlocked the door to leave.

You were embarrassed by the possibility of being seen, but they were so intoxicated and high that they didn’t even notice you were there. Not that they’d remember the next day.

John’s eyes locked on yours when you looked up at him through your lashes.

He also looked like he didn’t have his feet on the ground. He was drunk on passion. John felt the warmth in his body rose above the stars at you nibbling on your lip.

“I’m marrying you” he noted in a thick voice.

“You wish” you answered, one big smirk quirking up a corner of your mouth.

“Tonight I’m content with taking you with me, but I am putting a ring on you sooner or later”

Love growing in your chest, you pumped his arm and ruffled his hair.

“Who says I agreed to spend the night with you?”

“I think we both know you're dying to"

“Convince me” you provoked.

John crooked an eyebrow at you, and stuck his tongue out to sweep his saliva over the lower lip.

“We’re playing games, is that it?”

You shrugged and scooted sensually to reach the door, twisting the knob and stepping one foot inside.

“You have one hour before I leave to win me over. Or else you’re sleeping alone”

“If you insist. By the end of the night everyone will know you’re mine” he said, and spanked you on a butt cheek.

You smiled, excited about how delicious his promises sounded. There was also a flicker of fervour and lust in his eyes.

“I look forward to see how you intend to do that”

“Did you forget who you’re talking to? Dearest, I have plenty of ideas and two hands to make you lose your mind. Five minutes is all I need”

“I’ll give you three”

“One is fine. I love challenges”

You laughed and let him take your hand in his, interlocking all the fingers.

John moved his mouth extremely close to your ear. You closed your eyes, heart crying for one more kiss before joining the multitude.

“Don’t leave my side. Don’t make me have to punish you”

“Is that a threat?” you susurrated, turned on by the danger laced to his tone.

“That is a threat. Be a good girl”

You nodded, and raised your head to get a glimpse of him.

He made you feel fragile and powerful at the same time.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N). Let’s go inside, let me show everyone who’s the luckiest man alive”

The night had just begun.

#john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #the beatles #brian epstein #george martin #john lennon imagine #john lennon fanfiction #john lennon fanfic #tayloredstarr

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nico-drives-badly · 4 years

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Deleted Scene from Chapter 12

While writing Chapter 12, I wrote a humorous scene between Rose and Abuela that served as a formal introduction to their characters. Although this scene ended up being cut from the final version, it did serve as a great character development exercise, and Chapter 12 simply wouldn’t have been the same without it.

So, since I love this deleted scene to pieces and I still have it saved in my notes, I’ve decided to share it on Tumblr with you guys...as a treat. ;)

(Note: this scene follows the same timeline of events as the rest of Chapter 12, and takes place between sections 1 and 2.)

For Rosalinda “Rose” Martínez, family always came first. Whether it was corralling her younger siblings, helping her parents run Novela del Lago as the bookstore clerk, or visiting her grandmother every weekend in Tumult City, Rose was willing to drop everything to provide and care for her familia. After all, it’s what they had always done for her; she’d be a hypocrite and fool not to do the same.

That was why, when news of the infamous Red Zone breach made its way to Novela del Lago, Rose immediately climbed into her run-down Mustang and drove straight to her grandmother’s apartment in Tumult City. Rose knew it was dangerous — beyond dangerous — to enter the city during a Red Zone advisory, but she refused to let that stop her. After all, her beloved 81-year-old abuela was in danger.

And there was nothing that Abuela loved more than danger.

Rose arrived in downtown Tumult City at around 2:00 PM, only to find that the once bustling suburbs were now crumbling to ruins. The city streets were devoid of all traffic, the buildings reduced to rubble, and its infrastructure uprooted and mangled far beyond the point of repair. It looked like something from the apocalypse, the damage was so unreal.

Rose let out an irritated groan as she pulled up to the virtually abandoned apartment complex. Of course Abuela would be the only one dumb enough to stick around; knowing that stubborn old woman, becoming the sole survivor of the apocalypse was probably on her bucket list. Thankfully, Abuela’s neighborhood was left untouched by the demon’s destruction, which offered a small inkling of relief. They still had time to evacuate...for now.

Thanking her lucky stars, Rose exited her Mustang and scurried up the stairs to Abuela’s apartment on the 5th floor, where she frantically pounded on the door.

“Abuela!” Rose shouted through the doorway, hoping and praying that she could hear her. “Abuela, open up!”

Rose heard Abuela’s raspy yet surprisingly strong voice sound from the other side: “Who is it?”

“If I called you ‘Abuela’, then it’s probably your granddaughter,” Rose replied in a sing-songy tone, a vain attempt of masking her growing agitation.

“Ah, Rosa!” Abuela exclaimed, laughing heartily despite Rose’s annoyance. “I thought that was you. Come in, dearie! The door’s unlocked.”

“Of course it is,” Rose grumbled under her breath, before begrudgingly turning the doorknob.

Abuela’s apartment was nothing to brag home about, but it did house some of her family’s most precious heirlooms, having been passed down through many generations. In Fidelis — Abuela’s native country — it was believed that once their ancestors departed from this world, they had only the legacy of those who remember them to keep them alive; once their legacies faded, so too did their souls. Rose wasn’t too sold on the concept, but she did respect her grandmother’s dedication to keeping her family’s stories and traditions alive. Still, in the back of her mind, Rose couldn’t help but wonder: what would happen to those old souls if the demon destroyed this place…?

Rose shook the thought from her head, however, and marched straight up to her grandmother, who was in the midst of reading a extremely erotic magazine that probably had their ancestors turning in their graves.

“Abuela, we need to get you out of here,” Rose warned her. “Before it’s too late!”

The urgent message didn’t seem to faze Abuela one bit; in fact, she just kept skimming through her article (or what Rose assumed to be an article) without even glancing up at her granddaughter.

“Abuela!” Rose scoffed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to her frazzled granddaughter, Abuela lowered the magazine just slightly from her face and glanced up at Rose, a playful gleam in her warm brown eyes.

“What’s that, dearie?” Abuela asked loudly, smirking a little. She loved to mess with her little nieta, as much as she knew it drove her crazy. “You’ll have to speak up!”

“Oh, I know you can hear me,” Rose replied snidely, placing her hands sternly on her hips.

But Abuela merely laughed in response, which only seemed to aggravate her granddaughter even more. “Oh, Rosa, you are just like my hijo — always taking things so seriously! Careful, dearie, or you’ll get his frown lines, too!”

“Abuel-aaa!” Rose whined. “This IS serious! There’s a huge demon boss on the loose, and it’s already destroyed most of the city! If you stay here, you’ll get killed!”

Abuela cackled in response. “Oh, Rosa…did you seriously think I didn’t know about el demonio? I listen to those police scanners every day! Trust me, I know exactly what I’m getting into. They didn’t call me ‘The Nightmare of El Diablo’ for nothing!”

“That was also 30 years ago!” Rose reminded her grandmother none-too-gently. “Face it, Abuela, you can’t protect yourself like you used to. Your life is literally at stake!”

Abuela finally put down her magazine and crossed her arms playfully at Rose, raising a knowing eyebrow. “And yet here you are, driving straight into a Red Zone just to check on me! For being so similar to your spineless father, you sure have your abuela’s bravery, don’t you?”

/Here we go again,/ Rose groaned internally.

Abuela proceeded to lecture about Rose’s career choice in that bittersweet, passive-aggressive tone she always did: “If only my dear Diego taught you about the sword like he did all those books...you would’ve made a great devil hunter, Rosa!”

“Yeah, I’ll stick with my Demonology degree with a concentration in anatomy and physiology, thanks.” Rose gave her grandmother a steely glare.

“And just where has that big, fancy degree or yours gotten you?” Abuela rolled her eyes in response. “A dead-end job at your father’s bookstore?”

Rose’s face turned as red as her namesake at the comment. As much as she hated to admit it, Abuela did have a point. “Well...I...uh...”

Suddenly, an ear-splitting demonic screech echoed through the city streets and rattled the apartment. Panic rising in her chest, Rose turned towards the window just in time to see the Hydra slither past, its eight basilisk heads snapping furiously at anything that drew near.

“Look, can we talk about my life choices when we’re NOT in imminent danger?” Rose replied finally, cutting the argument short. “We need to get out of here!”

Abuela opened her mouth to speak, but a sudden screech from the Hydra drowned her out. The serpent demon had slammed one of its eight heads into the building beside theirs, raining down tons upon metric tons of concrete on the left side of their apartment. The impact made the whole building shake like a magnitude 10 earthquake, but thankfully, the apartment itself remained structurally sound. One more high-pitched screech, and the Hydra began to slither away, retreating towards the opposite end of the street.

But Abuela remained as calm and collected as ever, and she gave her granddaughter a mischievous wink. “Who says we’re in danger?”

Abuela stood abruptly from the sofa and walked purposefully to the wine cabinet beside the windowsill, swiftly unlocking it and revealing its contents to Rose. Unbeknownst to anyone in the family, Abuela kept all of her old devil hunting weapons locked in this cabinet, even after they demanded her to get rid of them.

Needless to say, Rose’s eyes shot open like gunfire when she saw Abuela’s arsenal: several long rifles, an assortment of pistols, a fully-loaded crossbow, and a fancy dagger locked in an ornate case. What was perhaps even more disconcerting, however, was that every single weapon was fully locked and loaded, and she still had several rounds worth of ammo to spare. How Abuela managed to fit all of this in such a small wine cabinet was anyone’s guess; personally, Rose was betting on witchcraft.

“You really thought I’d throw away my devil arms?” Abuela cackled at her granddaughter, her brown eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree with excitement. “Over my dead body!”

Abuela quickly began to raid through the cabinet. “Now get over here! We’ll both need a weapon if we want to protect ourselves.”

“Wait, what?!” Rose gaped. “I don’t know how to use that stuff!”

“Ah, don’t be silly, Rosa! I taught you how to use a crossbow, remember?” Abuela reminded her.

“Yeah, when I was 10!” Rose countered.

Abuela chucked the fully-loaded crossbow across the room right at Rose’s face, but she thankfully caught it without getting stabbed.

“Then it’s time to brush up, dearie!” Abuela winked at her granddaughter, giving her a devilish smirk.

Rose was absolutely fed up, at this point, and she furiously tossed the crossbow aside. Before Abuela could even protest, Rose grabbed her by the arm and forcefully dragged her towards the door, since was already carrying a pistol and the encased dagger in her hands.

“Abuela, we’re not fighting. We’re leaving.” Rose told her sternly. “Now drop the gun and come on already!”

“But, dearie…!”

“Don’t ‘dearie’ me!” Rose snapped. “I don’t care how young you think you are. You’re retired, and you should leave the devil hunting to the professionals...the WORKING professionals.”

“If I hadn’t blown out my shoulder at 55, I’d still be working!” Abuela retorted. “And until I shake hands with Sparda himself, I’ll be damned if I run from a challenge!”

“You’ll be damned if you don’t!” Rose cried incredulously, before resuming to drag Abuela towards the door. “Now, come on, we’re getting out of he—“

CRASH!

All of a sudden, the apartment window shattered, sending shards of glass flying in all directions and causing both of them to jump. The culprit: a peculiar sword with almost motorcycle-like modifications, complete with exhaust pipes and a brake handle. The blade appeared to have been stripped down to its bare bones — most likely to make room for the new attachments — and the only remnant of its original design was a small etching of a rose towards the blade’s hilt, half-hidden by the added handle.

They didn’t have much time to admire it, however. Just seconds after the sword crashed through the window and skidded across the floor, a young man with stark white hair came tumbling in after. Rose screamed as the man crash-landed into the apartment, barreling straight into the sofa and launching it clear into the wall before finally rolling to a stop in front of them. The sofa struck the wall with an insane amount of force, for the record, creating spider web-like cracks in the wall and leaving behind a massive dent.

Now, Rose might’ve preferred fantasy novels over textbooks, but she knew how physics worked; if a human was somehow able to body-slam into their couch with the force of a semi-truck, something definitely wasn’t adding up. This shouldn’t have been humanly possible...unless...

Abuela, on the other hand, looked like she had just seen the face of royalty. That white hair...it was unmistakable!

“The blood of Sparda,” Abuela whispered in awe, her brown eyes welling up with happy tears.

Meanwhile, the young devil hunter slowly stood to his feet, grunting softly. Abuela gasped like a fan girl as Nero, grandson of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda, casually brushed the dirt out of his hair and plucked the stray glass shards off of his jacket. Nero, noticing the pair, slowly turned around to face them and greeted them with an awkward half-smile.

“Sorry for barging in,” Nero chuckled nervously, walking over to his sword and returning it to its sheath as Rose and Abuela’s eyes followed his every move. “I would’ve called ahead, but you know...Hydras don’t accept quarters.”

“S-sparda...you’re of the blood of Sparda!” Abuela finally found the courage to speak, fighting back the urge to squeal with every fiber of her being. She never thought she’d truly have the honor to see any of Sparda’s kin in the flesh…

Nero scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Technically, I’m his grandson...but yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Another roar from the Hydra outside beckoned Nero’s attention back to the battlefield, and he began to make his leave. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta get back to V and Umbra. Sorry about the mess.”

Rose’s eyes widened in an instant. V? As in, V from the bookstore? The same V who wrote those notes in the back of that book…the same book that said “property of Vergil Sparda” on the cover…?

Nero quickly began to rattle off the Devil May Cry damage policy as he walked towards the window, with each sentence faster than the last: “Devil May Cry is not responsible for property damages directly caused by demons, and will only reimburse employee-related damages. All legal inquiries must be sent bymailtoourmainbranchinRedGrave, MakeoutallcheckstoDanteSparda, voidwhereprohibited, thaNKYOUHAVEANICEDAY!”

The young devil hunter shot a quick finger-gun in their direction before jumping out of the window, the sudden and apparent decision to fall to his death causing Rose to yelp. Less than a second later, however, Nero summoned his winglike spectral arms from his back and soared upward, returning to their plane of vision as he flew towards the Hydra in the near distance.

Rose and Abuela’s jaws were practically scraping the floor of the apartment, at this point, they were in so much shock. After a moment or two of silence, however, Abuela simply couldn’t hold back her excitement anymore; she squealed.

“It’s THE blood of Sparda, Rosa! The REAL blood of Sparda!!” Abuela grabbed Rose’s shoulders and shook her violently as she spoke, her brown eyes glistening with excitement. “I’ve waited nearly 40 years to see his bloodline in battle! Come on, dearie, we can’t afford to miss this!”

Abuela hastily gathered her assortment of weapons and scurried out the door, but for once, Rose didn’t try to stop her. Rather, she followed right at her grandmother’s heels, taking care to lock the door behind them before scurrying down the apartment stairs.

Rose knew from the beginning that there was something special about that boy. And if he truly was what Rose thought he was...she had to see it for herself.

#life rewritten #deleted scene #nico writes

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chaewonrk · 4 years

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STAR BRIGHT CASTING AUDITIONS ‘20 : INTERVIEW !

word count: 1,587. cw: parental death.

what was it that chaewon kept on saying to yuzu? just fucking do it. she’d be a hypocrite if she didn’t at least go along to this interview thing. chaewon didn’t really allow herself to believe in fate or anything, knowing that she’d only be disappointed if she did, but the stars were aligning pretty well for her. she’d kick herself for not going. or, maybe jie would kick her. she was more than happy to have her roommate with her -- chaewon needed the confidence boost that jie’s aura provided.

it would be very typical of her, however, not to go in the end. she nearly didn’t. standing outside the park hyatt hotel, chaewon took three deep breaths. go in. one, two, three -- and she stepped through the front door, following her roommate through. wow, luxurious. she used to stay in places like this all the time when she traveled with her parents as a kid. it was somehow both familiar and intimidating at the same time.

now that she was in, chaewon had to fill in the form. she was in it for the long haul now, or at least for a couple of hours. it was just an interview at this point, she really only needed to worry if she somehow got a callback. supplying the information they asked of her was easy. it was the same old shit she’d attempted to use for bragging points all her life. a decade of ballet training and drama school -- a decade of effort that went down the drain one drizzly afternoon. her choir days at ewha, a fun year where she made friends that she could’ve gone onto college with but didn’t. 6tunes, soundbox, her youtube channel. only one of those projects was something she was still pursuing. chaewon couldn’t help cringing. what a heap of wasted potential. supplying the information was easy, but looking at it, listed out in front of her, was dead hard.

the family section was harder again. eventually, chaewon decided to only list her grandparents. they didn’t know she was attending today, but she guessed they’d be disappointed to hear it. she could always worm her way back into their good graces by expressing her intent to finally go to college.

once she was done, it was a matter of waiting for her name to be called. chaewon tied her hair back in a low ponytail, and asked jie to check for flyaways.

chaewon entered the interview room with a smile, feeling like she stood out well in her red t-shirt against the white background. she gave the staff member a warm look as she took her place. as nervous as chaewon felt before, she found that the professional studio atmosphere soothed her. the sound and camera tests went off without a hitch, and before she knew it, the interviewer gave her the nod to introduce herself.

“hello!” she bowed her head for the camera, then lifted her chin to face the lens with a self assured smile. as per usual, chaewon felt better able to be herself in front of the camera. sometimes, especially recently, when she was playing her guitar, she got a bit too far into her own head, but this was a more comfortable situation. she supposed it could be that playing music close to her heart was a little too vulnerable for chaewon to fully feel confident in herself when she did it. “my name is park chaewon! i’m twenty-one. i’m currently working as a make up artist. i’m living here in seoul, but i was raised in london, england.”

“okay. chaewon, tell me, why did you come here today? why do you want to be an idol?”

chaewon clasped her hands together in front of her as she said, “performing is my first love. i trained in ballet and theatre in london for ten years before moving to seoul, but since then, unfortunately, it’s had to take a backseat in my list of priorities. i’ve worked hard on it on the side over the years, but ... is it okay to say? it sounds a little selfish, but i’m ready now and i really want to prove that i can do it.”

the truth sounded so pretty when she phrased it the right way.

“a ballerina? so it’s safe to assume that dance is your best skill. tell me about your weaknesses.” chaewon appreciated the cool but still seemingly interested vibe that the interviewer gave off as she asked her questions.

“yes! yes, dance is the skill i’m most confident in. besides my experience in ballet, i’ve also got experience in other styles. i attend hip hop and freestyle classes here in seoul, and briefly taught a class of my own too.” chaewon beamed proudly, hoping that her smile somewhat managed to reach her eyes. “my weakest skill ... i don’t rap, but then again, i’ve never tried.” simple as. truthfully, there were a lot of things she was definitely, sincerely bad at, like cooking and budgeting and keeping track of her drinks, but none of them were really relevant to her potential skill set as an idol.

“is there a reason you didn’t choose to pursue ballet in seoul?”

a surprisingly cutting question -- one chaewon hadn’t rehearsed for. though, she supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised. taken aback for a moment, all she could do was nod as she gathered her thoughts. with damp eyes, chaewon resigned herself to telling an abridged version of the truth.

“yes, actually. my parents passed away when i was fifteen. that was the reason i moved to seoul, so that my grandparents could take care of me. for the first year or so, doing things that reminded me of my life with them back in london was too painful, so i avoided them until i was ready. since then, i’ve been ... slowly dipping my toes back in.”

“i see.” the interviewer paused, searching chaewon’s face for any sign that they should stop the process. chaewon merely blinked back her tears and continued speaking.

“that’s what i meant by i’m ready now. it’s been many years now, and i’m finally confident enough to try and pursue my dreams. i want to prove it to myself, but,” she nodded to herself, eyes gleaming determinedly for a moment. any hints of tears were wholly gone now, replaced by chaewon’s regular confidence. “i also want to try to do it for my parents. they believed in me.”

at least, she liked to believe that they did. they probably didn’t. after all, she’d been such a brat. but, it was a nice thought. chaewon figured that regardless what she ended up doing with her life, she’d probably end up imagining some proud parental response for herself.

“you’ve had to overcome a big obstacle early on,” the interviewer started to steer the interview away from the melancholy. “that takes tenacity. are you willing to improve yourself in the areas you lack?”

“of course. i received vocal lessons as part of my drama training, and nowadays, i’m really interested in improving my singing. i play my guitar and sing with it, and upload covers and things to my youtube channel. i’m always looking to see where i can improve and change. it’s the key to growth.” yeah, like when she let jinsoul bleach her hair. change was good. “i attended singing and vocal care workshops in the samsung speakup event a couple of weeks ago too. i sang in the choir in high school, and i sang back up in a band i was apart of, but i don’t have a massive amount of confidence in my group singing skills.”

“lovely. now, chaewon, what influences you? musically, as a performer, as a person, and so forth.”

what did she write on the form again?

“oh.” she tapped her chin thoughtfully. she didn’t want to come across as too much of a fangirl or too shallow or too up herself or too ... anything. “for idol groups, i’m a big fan of luxe and and*roma. i really like taylor swift too. i originally picked up guitar because i thought she made it look cool. i guess you could say i’m influenced by powerful women! it’s really important to me that i don’t have to sacrifice my femininity to be taken seriously. the class i taught was called high in heels -- i think that sums up my influences pretty well.”

“okay. we’re onto the final question now, chaewon. if you weren’t trying to be an idol, what would you be doing right now?”

shopping? sleeping? gossiping? “still working hard. if i wasn’t trying to be an idol, i’d still want to do my best as a make up artist, and as a hobbyist. no matter what, i still love to perform. it would just be ideal if i could do it as a job.” she punctuated her sentence with a content smile and nod.

“thank you, chaewon. we’ll be in contact.”

or we won’t. yeah, chaewon knew the drill. thanking the staff, she quickly made her exit. as soon as the door shut behind her, the adrenaline that was brewing within her shot through the crown of her skull and she half walked, half jogged her way back to the hotel lobby, en route for another period of waiting for jie to have her turn in the audition room. she didn’t know how she was going to be able to sit still.

#PHEW not as long as i thought but still kinda long #starbright20audition #death tw #mentions:#rkjie #yuzurk

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avaliveradio · 4 years

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Kama Linden Releases a Song about Summer 'Belmar Breeze'

Band Name: Kama Linden

Song name: Belmar Breezes

Music Genre: pop/adult contemporary

I live in... Bronx, NY

Link to play: BELMAR BREEZES https://open.spotify.com/track/5Kafd6tHkpTuRqXkpqvdrI?si=UfgJ6QxoSeq4KASG_KMNSw

BELMAR BREEZES is a song about Summer, but also a visual, detailed description of my version of PARADISE. The Jersey Shore is an oasis for me. I run the beautiful boards of Belmar to Spring Lake, and back, I go to the ocean after 5 pm until maybe 8 pm and walk along the ocean, listening to the calming ocean waves, and the funny seagulls.

I watch the most amazing sunsets you have ever seen, and the big, bright moons that come up over the ocean, that you cannot see anywhere else. People are friendly and happy, even during COVID. I play my guitar on the boardwalks of a few of the beaches. I live for summer. One day I hope to live in Belmar, or close to it.

IF I'M WRONG is a song I wrote on Route 70 in maybe 15-20 minutes while driving. It is about making your own choices, and IF I'M WRONG, well, fine. But I took a chance. I did not lead a SAFE and boring life. I became an artist. I traveled. I funded my projects.

I have been swindled out of money, usually by unscrupulous men, but I am here to tell you about it. I am a survivor. I live for me and do not allow myself to be controlled or manipulated, or if it happens, it is short-lived, I figure it out, and I flee the situation :). I am brave and need to try new things, take road trips, meet new people/new friends, and write and sing what is in my heart.

My music is...

Every song is different. Uninhibited was an eclectic pop/rock mix. Better Late Than Never has a theme of a single woman's journey through love, life, loss, and finding G-d. Southern Country is COUNTRY and was recorded with musicians who play at the Grand Ole Opry.

However, Everything In Good Time is a story about letting what will be, come to be. Not rushing to get there and missing the sights. Getting it right vs. getting it now. Not forcing a result.

It is the quintessential story a parent tells a child: “Que sera, sera”. It is a dedication to two great ladies, my Mom, and Nana, who guided me through life and answered the questions of an inquisitive, precocious, and artistic child. My songs are reflections, observations, and dedications. It took me 4 studio albums to finally have my voice and my music captured the way they should be captured. I hope that you will enjoy this journey that I have created, culminating over 20 years of songwriting.

The song "Everything In Good Time" is a conversation between my Nana and I: A precocious little girl who want all the answers RIGHT NOW, and my Nana just telling me, "Don't Worry, it will be fine. You will be beautiful. You will be an actress. You will meet a nice man....just relax...."

If I'm Wrong as I described above, is the song about taking chances, and living a brave life, not a safe, "doing the norm" out of fear of failure or living up to other people's expectations instead of my own. Darla Perlozzi, of Misstyx studio, was able to find me the best musicians as they were all on furlough due to Covid. Tony Toliver's mastery of the piano was out of this world! I dreamed about the piano is a very important part of “If I’m Wrong”. I wanted a higher descending piano line like Vanessa Carlton's "1000 Miles", and then a lower one. But on this song, you will hear the guitar riffs of James Mitchell in the beginning.

Jim was able to telepathically understand what it was I was looking for in so many of my songs and took the helm. Tony also did the amazing keyboard work you hear in "Searching For Madonna" an "Belmar Breezes"...which was SUPPOSED to just be a SIMPLE piano song...both turned into the amazing masterpieces that they were! Tony and Jim went back and forth and just added more and more parts just because they liked my songs, unlike the musicians from "Southern Comfort" who were old guys who liked to COMPLAIN. Tony and Jim, as well as Darla, and her husband Timmy Patterson, play for A-listers! And here they were, giving me their ALL...little old me!

Rodney Ingle is hands down the BEST engineer I EVER WORKED WITH! He was instrumental in capturing my true voice the way it should be recorded. After I banged out the lead vocals to 11 songs in 4 hours, he made suggestions for the harmony lines, which I layered one by one like an individual melody. His guidance, professionalism, and mastery made this the best album I ever made. An album I WOULD GO AN BUY and listen to every day.

How do you think this release represents your current direction…

BELMAR BREEZES: Anyone who knows me or is on my Facebook will see photo after photo of my Jersey Shore escapades. Big moons. Beaches with lots of umbrellas. Timed shots of me in my sunhat, sunglasses, and bathing suits. Making the most out of life and summer. Connecting with other people. Vocally calming, beautiful, descriptive, and inspirational.

IF I'M WRONG: Is the 'in your face', brave, doesn't take no for an answer, taking chance kind of song, like "Better Late Than Never" was. Unapologetic. Feel-good music.

I write the lyrics, melodies, basic chords...play them over and over until I feel good about them, but the musicians from Darla' studio were the ones who brought everything from black and white into color.

James Mitchell, guitars and just guru who got inside my head.

Tony Toliver's mastery of the piano: I dreamed about the piano is a very important part of “If I’m Wrong”. He did more than this for me. He brought so many of my songs to life, and because of him, I do not “hate organ”. He is the reason "Belmar Breezes" sounds like it does. And "Searching For Madonna".

Timmy Patterson's wonderful bass playing, and for keeping me calm. He is the studio business side as well. We tracked 11 songs (12 tracks) in 14 hours, and I was worried about not being able to sing all the songs in one day. BUT I DID!

Darla Perlozzi, of MissStyx Studio, picked up my project when all seemed lost. The previous "producer" bailed on me, and I was better for it. Just listen to the difference in "Make Room For Mama" and "Make Room For Mama 2020". Darla did everything from putting together the best team, working with my budget, and giving me the album I should have had from other studios, at a NASHVILLE price! And of course, for her wonderful drum beats.

What most inspires you?:

Although I started writing songs when I was 10, they began to fill my head around 1998. Songs would wae me up in the middle of the night. I could run to one song, and be inspired to write a song because of that song. Sometimes it is a simple sentence or catchphrase, like "Better Late Than Never": "What Took You So Long" was one of the last lines in the movie, "Singles". "Everything In Good Time" is what a parent or Nana tells an impatient child. You have only to go to Belmar to experience "Belmar Breezes".... it could be 90-100 degrees outside, and yet this Tradewind will kick up, and you feel like you are standing in front of the refrigerator.

"You're On Video" is about the constant scandals where you WILL BE FILMED on someone's phone, and brought to public justice on Instagram or the news. Think of all the police brutality incidents from Eric Garner to recent protests. Hit and run accidents. Hate speech. You will be filmed! You can't escape. Conversely, "Searching For Madonna" was pre-COVID: being so wrapped up in your phones and gadgets, that you have forgotten humanity, spirituality, and anything but taking selfies and scrolling through nonsensical posts of someone's breakfast.

Writing music is not a choice. It's a NEED. I don't think I could make it stop if I wanted to. Some songs come quickly, like "If I'm Wrong". Some I will write down a line or two, and come back to it years later. Each song is like a birth of a child. Sometimes I go a week or two with no writing, and sometimes It is like a flood of songs. When people hear my lyrics or a small child comes up to me on the boardwalk, dancing and smiling, "I love your voice" like Lara did on Saturday evening at Seaside, or a group of teens passing by stop to listen, jam along, clap, dance....even give a thumbs up...that is why I do it. Being remembered. Not just fame. But have a reason why I was put on this earth and what I will leave behind ("Here She Lies").

I took piano lessons from childhood, but I am one with my guitar. Ibanez. I have four of them. You will see me on the boardwalk with my black one, (Black Ivy) and in shows/photos with my purple one (Miss Plum)

I will hopefully record any future music with Darla's team, but like the movie "Once", all of this happened because I was furloughed, and the musicians were as well, and who knows if we will ever have the opportunity to work together as a team again, once everyone goes back to their touring schedules. I do my scratch recordings with a condenser mic an garage band and hope to eventually, finally learn ProTools.

What was one notable event that helped shape your last decade?

I really can't think of "one". Everything is just small little steps that eventually become part of a journey. But from 2016 onward, I taught fewer classes for the horrible and abusive gym and worked more on SAG-AFTRA projects. Of course, everything has been shut down for COVID.

What’s your goal for 2020?:

Take "Everything In Good Time" to the heights it needs to reach! It is an album that MUST be HEARD. I snuck off to Nashville during a pandemic to record it with the best musicians in the world and released it during a pandemic. It can be for nothing. It is also my best work yet. The songs are relevant! "You're On Video", "We Could Be Friends" (Black Lives Matter and other discrimination and divisiveness), "Your Love Hurts" (domestic violence).

When I started, my first recordings were on "DAT"...

Then someone said, "You need to find a studio with ProTools". My first album and half were recorded at "Night Owl", and then I like paid what would buy me a small condo to finish "Better Late Than Never" at Cove City in Long Island. I trusted 3 "labels" who kept my money, took my money, and were lazy.

Now I am in control of my production as well as finding people to promote my music. I also have learned that I can go to Nashville an get a quality recording, vs spending through the nose in NY. Like, NY, you have to weed through, as te 1st team was ok for the time, but when Darla's team explained that they probably had the mic on backward, recorded me on the clunky 2-inch machine they threw out when they took over the studio, didn't give me my tracks in a ProTools session so I could remix them if I wanted to, vs the amazing project I recorded with Darla's people. Darla and I bonded over being females, it is a boy's club, especially in Nashville. One guy must have been trolling Darla's FB, and although I just recorded at Darla's studio, wrote to me via my website, and wanted to know who I recorded with.

I told him I was happy, and would never record ANYWHERE again except for Misstyx, which prompted an angry rant, and "do you know who I am" and "I will have you blacklisted from the musician's union".....so I called the musician's union. Everyone knows everyone, so both Tony (my piano player) and Darla, and a few other folks, shut him up.

Every time I get a guy who tries to scam me out of money ($150 to be on some blog in Nashville that no one has ever heard of) and he says, "You don't know how the music business works!" I just laugh. Musicians today have to do some digging, shopping, and unfortunately, occasionally being scammed or overpaying the wrong people, but it is easier to get it right now thanks to the public opinions online. Do good work, get good reviews. I was also scammed by "Loggins" bac in 2006 or 2007. They charged $750 a week and then tacked on charges for "gift cards" I did not agree to. You couldn't stop them from charging your card for like 2 weeks (you had to give "notice"). I eventually called "Loggins" to ask why I was not receiving ASCAP royalties for all the radio promotion he did, and he could not answer.

Musicians have all the tools they need to create and promote music. I could have bought a house with the mistakes I have made over the past 20 years. But I have learned to do my research and search out the right people to help me.

Website & social media links: :

Kama Linden: www.kamalinden.com New album: "Everything In Good Time" June 20, 2020:

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/album/5RHPPSDhiiYpmt55p1ONeL?si=-WQaDYe9Ttu9eoj73sTNqg Apple:https://music.apple.com/us/album/everything-in-good-time/1517559501 Bandcamp:https://kamalinden.bandcamp.com/album/everything-in-good-time

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kamalindenmusic

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kamalindenmusic

#Kama Linden #bronx #New York

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introvertguide · 4 years

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Nashville (1975); AFI #59

Our current movie is probably the most difficult to categorize or summarize, the Robert Altman satire comedy drama musical known as Nashville (1975). The film was nominated for 5 Academy Awards and 11 Golden Globes, but only won a single trophy at both ceremonies and both were for Best Song (Keith Carradine with “I’m Easy”). The eleven GG nominations was a record, but this was likely because the film had four nominations in the Best Supporting Actress category. This result is somewhat appropriate as the actors really did not get enough time to really stand out except for in their singing, and the academy really did not know what to do with the performances. Same with Best Picture and Best Director (for which the film was also nominated). The artistic merit is there and so is the story, but a lot of it is what director Robert Altman allowed to happen and recognized as beautiful as he went so it is hard to put the movie into standard categories. Not to rule out the competition, the film went up against One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and Jaws that year so there was not a lot of chance along the awards circuit. Now I am going to summarize, but I am not going to break down much because there is far too much going on in this film with 24 main characters and all the different plots. Even Roger Ebert said he didn’t completely understand the film, but that it was not likely meant to be completely understood. So here is my best effort to at least put this wriggling puppy of a movie into a manageable basket:

SPOILERS??? I THINK...I AM NOT REALLY SURE IF I AM SPOILING, GUESSING, OR MISLEADING, BUT HERE WE GO!!!

The movie is set in the city of Nashville that is prepping for a presidential campaign stop that will be accompanied by a country music festival. In the days leading up to the rally for a new reform nominee, a bunch of country singers come together to perform. These artists are accompanied by their management, a variety of groupies, and a large number of up-and-comers looking to get discovered. In amongst this group are also journalists, politicians, and aids trying to organize the whole event.

The movie begins with a mass of characters all showing up at the airport to meet people or greet the public. Of special note is the return of Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakely), a country singer from Nashville that was in an accident in which she got burned and is still recovering mentally. She is greeted at the airport by a country music staple named Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson). Barbara Jean promptly goes of script and decides that she is going to go and great all of her fans that are being held in the airport building and she suddenly passes out. In the melee that follows everyone trying to leave the airport at the same time, there is a car accident that causes more interactions amongst the characters.

Another band that showed up at the same time is a folk trio made up of a couple and a guitarist named Tom (Keith Carradine). Tom is a womanizer and sleeps with many of the women who have gathered, including his bandmate, a reporter, a married gospel singer, and a groupie.

Barbara Jean goes to the hospital for heat exhaustion and she is replaced by a girl that seems linked with Haven Hamilton named Connie White (Karen Black) for a performance at the Grand Ole Opry. Also performing is a black country singer who does not seem to get his due respect in Tennessee.

There are a lot more characters and a lot more scenes, but I am not about to try break down every single plot line. Mounting tension amongst everyone in an attempt to gain the spotlight, even for a second, builds up to the day of the country folk festival. The line up has the entire cast together in one place and as the festival starts, Barbara Jean sings and she is suddenly shot by a quiet character in the crowd that is a big fan. The movie ends as a singer steps up to the stage and sings to calm the crowd down, giving her a moment to shine in the tragedy that befell another.

There is quite the mix of genres in this movie because there are definitely set jokes making it a comedy, there is competition and betrayal making it a drama, there is over an hour of singing performances so it is also a musical, and it is set in a parody of the American political system making it a satire. I watched quite a few interviews with Robert Altman to try and get a better idea of his intentions and I am not sure that he knew what the film was beyond a panoramic observation of a Nashville music festival and all the drama and comedy that brought it together. He seems exceptionally elusive when categorizing his film and it seems obvious that he didn’t want that. The film is supposed to be more of an experience than a linear story, which makes the film complicated beyond the simplicity of the music.

Here is where I might get some hate and I kind of don’t care because it is a personal thing. I have not found that I like country or bluegrass music in general so this particular soundtrack did not do a lot for me. I especially did not like that this is amateur hour as many of the actors (some of whom could not sing) did all of their own music. This made some of the music interludes down right painful. If it were not in my watching rules to not skip ahead, I would have taken a good hour off the run time from all of the exceptionally bad numbers. However. In the long run I am glad I stuck to my rules because I heard 3 songs that I love. I will link those 3 first and I will also link the song that won the Oscar:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pm8PwXOHNPs (Dues) This is sung by actress and professional singer Ronee Blakely. It is the character’s first singing appearance after an accident so she is a little shaky. She is singing about a failing relationship and how there is a desire to stay and try to fix things to what they used to be. Very powerful and she truly has a great voice. I really like this song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NToTcTiX66g (Since You’ve Gone) This song is right before the award winner and the chorus is a mesh of voices that all sound in pain but still harmonically satisfying, This is my favorite song in the movie as it brings a trio on stage where the woman is married to one member but having an affair with the other. I really believe that this song should have been the one that won the Oscar if it was going to come from this film.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BYyDusJYJo (It Don’t Worry Me) This was another song that was written by Keith Carridine besides the Oscar winner that was sold to Altman. It is played many times throughout the film, but I think that the best version is when a talented singing character is looking for a break and suddenly is tasked with calming the crowd after the tragedy at the primary. She sings so woefully with a heavy dose pain and ends up sounding like Janis Joplin. A church choir backs her up and it ends the movie in a similar way to how “Let the Sunshine In” ends Hair (lots of repetition with a growing number of voices and variation).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p6y47KcuI4Y (I’m Easy) This seems like a point of intersection for most of the characters in the film and Altman said in many interviews that he bought the song from Carradine before the plot of the movie fully existed. It seems like Altman had the start of the movie from notes by his writing partner Carol Tewksbury and the end where all the characters are at the music festival. The song did win the Oscar and Golden Globe for best song for Carridine but the tune doesn’t impress me. It seems more important to the movie plot since four different women in the room think that the song is in reference to them. Fine plot point, but a boring song for me.

So does this film belong on the AFI Top 100? Well, I guess so, but maybe not such a high ranking. It is a slice of Americana set in Nashville featuring a very American style of music during an American election. All the characters were very American in the 70s (except the British one). And it was a pretty good movie with a lot happening and special care to the craft. However, the #59 movie in 1997 was Rebel Without a Cause while Nashville was not on the list at all and then that switched completely in 2007. I liked this better than Ben-Hur so I suppose this movie could be on the list, but Nashville should not replace such an iconic American film as Rebel Without a Cause. Finally, would I recommend it? That really depends on the viewer. The movie is very long and has a lot of very complicated plot threads, some of which go nowhere. I can’t say somebody would like it based on the performance of a specific actor or character because 24 people split up the screen time. Being interested in country music, politics, or the lifestyle of the road musician doesn’t mean you will like this movie either. I would recommend this to those who are interested in film making and story development because the ability to incorporate so many things through shot choice, angles, and overlapping dialogue is pretty phenomenal. I don’t think I will watch it again, but it is probably worth checking out for the experience. I like my movies with a little more plot structure, but that is just me. People in the business would probably love this.

#nashville #robert altman #afi film list #70s #country music #folk music #keith carradine #soundtrack #introvert #introverted

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 5 years

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Click, Click

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 , 7, 8 , 9 , 10 , 11

Chapter Twelve:

“We’re on in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes, Jesus, is everyone even ready?”

“I think Leia is still doing her makeup...”

“We can’t start without Leia!”

“Oh god, oh god-”

“We have to push the event back-”

Your head shot up from the clipboard you were holding in your hands. Your fingers tightened around it and your mind raced.

Push the event back? Push it back? After all of the planning, you had done? All the effort to make sure that everything was in line legally, that your fans knew exactly when the event would be? After spending day after day stressing over promotions and preparations, and you guys had ten minutes and someone wanted to push the event back?

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. It must have because you went completely numb. Sure pushing the event back wasn’t a huge deal but-

“And is there even enough space for us to perform here? It might be a little small.”

It wasn’t small. You had measured it.

Countless times you had walked back and forth across this square to make sure that you guys had enough space to perform. Not everyone had agreed that this spot was good for the event so you had gone above and beyond to ensure that it would work out just fine. It was a smidge larger than your practice room. It was in the center of a busy square, so there would be many passerbyers and it was a popular busking location. It was, dare you say it, perfect.

“Where did Destany go? Is she missing? What are we going to do? She’s in the first dance.”

“Guy’s Chloe is having a panic attack in the bathroom.”

“What if we changed locations? We can still do that right? This location never made much sense anyway.”

If the location didn’t make sense then why did they put you in charge of everything? If they were just going to try to move the event why did they chose you to plan it? You still couldn’t move, couldn’t bear to speak. Maybe if you just kept your mouth shut they would come to their senses. If everyone could just calm down then maybe...

“I think it’s supposed to rain today anyways.

“That’s it, we have to call it off. We can just do it tomorrow if need be.”

“No!” You blurted. Everyone seemed surprised by your sudden outburst. In fact, the entire room went quiet in order to look at you... To pay attention to what you had to say.

Honestly, you hated that everyone’s eyes were on you. You may enjoy being in charge of things, and love being depended on, but even on your best day you hated being the center of attention. Still, you couldn’t keep quiet and let this one slide.

You guys couldn’t change a date that you had established so far in advance because of things that might happen. You knew what Chloe was like. She always had anxiety problems right before big events. Destany was probably just holed up in a corner watching videos and the rain probably wouldn’t even come. It was only a 30% chance of rain after all.

You pressed your lips together, trying to keep yourself calm, but your chest was in hot knots. Did they really think that they could just change this event completely? After all the work you had all gone through? What did all of the hours of practice mean? Nothing? Was all of the pain that everyone had gone through to be ready for this event mean so little that they could just cancel it? You had watched the other kids in the program stress themselves to tears because of the anxieties of preparing for this dumb event that was supposed to be for fun. What was the point of all of that if they weren’t even going to end up doing it?

“We can’t just cancel it,” you stated firmly, your voice a bit more aggressive then you meant for it to sound. “Look, Paige, go talk to Chloe. Ali, do you mind looking around for Destany? She’s definitely close by. Roger, can you help Leia with her makeup? We aren’t canceling this event. We aren’t pushing it back. We have eight whole minutes. That’s an eternity in our world.”

“But the rain-”

“It won’t rain.”

“Do you want to risk it?”

“Hell yeah,” you blurted back. “Jesus, we addressed the possibility of rain weeks ago, and we all agreed that we wouldn’t mind dancing in the rain. In fact, you said that anyone not willing to dance in the rain clearly wasn’t dedicated enough to the group.”

Kaylin looked at you, her eyebrows furrowing at the accusation. Oh, of course, she now oh so conveniently had forgotten that guilt trip. The heat in your chest just built. It felt like your body would explode you were so mad. You tried to keep it contained.

“Look, we don’t have time for this. Get your shoes on. Eight minutes Kaylin. Eight minutes till go time. No matter what.”

Kaylin clearly wasn’t happy with your decision, and you understood why. You sounded like a bit of a tyrant. You didn’t like to make orders. You liked to leave things up to interpretation. You liked to let others decide what they wanted to do. How they wanted to get things done. You hated making decisions for other people.

God, you hated yourself. You really, really did.

“Clock is ticking everybody,” you said loudly, pushing down that hot feeling in your chest. You did your normal rounds. You went up to everyone in the group, making sure they were all feeling some semblance of okay.

They all seemed to be alright. Paige got Chloe feeling okay in minutes. Ali found Destany in seconds. You thanked God when Roger brought Leia around the corner perfectly ready for their performance.

You pressed your eyes shut, pinched your nose and then, with one minute to go, waved everyone in the program close.

They all huddled around you, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Not our first busking event,” you stated softly. “I can’t imagine it will be our last either. Just give your best performance, and everything will go fine. And don’t forget to have fun, okay guys?”

“Infinity on three?” Julia suggested. You glanced at her and smiled with a nod. Caitlin was the first to put her hand in the center. Everyone else followed.

“Hana, deul, set!”

Your fingers gripped the microphone tightly, but you didn’t let anything else show how nervous you were. You walked across the stage and waved to the crowd.

“Hello!” You called out. You repeated that again in Korean and then repeated it in Japanese. “Welcome to the Infinity Idol’s first concert in Japan!”

The crowd went wild, and you waited for them to quiet down before continuing. You thanked God for the minimal Japanese you knew because it was getting you through this introduction fabulously.

The order of Mansae and Happy Ending had been switched. You put Mansae as the opening, and Happy Ending as the closing. Thanks to your arrangements everyone got their chance to be in the center. You guys started off with everyone and ended with everyone.

“We’re going to start off with a little bit of a celebration... All of us from Infinity are so excited to be here. So happy that we had all of these fans come out to support us. So our first song is a testament to that. All we can do is walk around and say..”

Everyone from the exchange program walked up behind you, getting into their starting positions and once you knew they were ready you raised one open hand into the air and winked at the crowd.

“Mansae!”

Four of your fingers curled down, leaving you standing in the center of the stage, your index finger pointed towards the sky. You held that for a moment, and the lights that you guys had set up to flood the square went dark. You rushed into your spot on stage, and the lights turned back on with the start of the music.

Starting off the busk with this dance had been a risky decision. The choreography itself wasn’t really that complicated, but the dance was very high energy.

Your arrangement of the dances was to make sure that everyone got the proper break they needed between dances. It had been difficult, so you ended up having to arrange it so that only you had to do any back to back dances.

You had practiced everything back to back a million times to make sure you could handle it, but that was just practice.

You always pushed yourself ten times harder when you were actually performing. Even though you knew you didn’t have to. Even though you were no professional. Even though you knew that, in the end, a part of you wanted to always put on the best performance. To be to someone in that crowd, what so many idols were to you.

Besides... There was a chance... A chance that Jihoon was out there watching, and if he was, while you were following his part? Then you definitely had to do better then you had ever done before.

With each dance, with each song that came on, with each moment that you came behind the mic with others to segue to the next song, you were losing a little bit of your sanity.

Kaylin was still mad at you and at any given moment, no matter how tired you were, she came over backstage to give you grief for it. To remind you that any small thing that went wrong in her opinion was your fault.

You just endured it. You went on stage when it was time to go on stage, and you tried to keep yourself calm offstage while you were offstage.

The most important thing was, of course, to keep your mood steady, and make sure you were conserving as much energy as possible while you weren’t performing.

If you were to give the best performance you could, you had to give the same amount of energy for Happy Ending that you had given to Mansae, and the same amount of energy to every dance in-between.

That meant that every time you went offstage and couldn’t do anything with your nervous energy but half dance to other choreographies that you weren’t even doing today, you were being extremely stupid.

God, you knew how dumb it was... But even still, you were practically standing offstage doing a four times sped-up version of Gfriend’s Time for the Moonnight in-between every performance.

Where was this energy coming from?

You got back on stage and you weren’t even winded. You were smiling, and singing and performing just as you always would.

“Well, I guess that is it for the night!” You announced into the microphone. “Pack up your bags, and restore the square to what it used to be because that’s all!”

The crowd all made sounds of disappointment as you pretended like you were walking off the stage. You stopped and looked back at them.

“What? You don’t want it to be over?”

There were screams of no erupting from the audience and the distinct sound of someone laughing. You didn’t know for sure why that noise struck you... It sounded kind of like...

“Everything has to end my friends,” you said pleasantly. “But I guess we can just try to make this a bit more of a...”

You trailed off as everyone filed back on stage. You did a quiet count in your head, trying to ensure that everyone was in fact there.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 ,13, 14, 15, 16, 17.

“Happy ending.”

You slid back into place and the music began.

You had practiced the Happy Ending choreography so many times in the past week that you didn’t even have to think anymore to do it.

Your head moved from side to side, your body swayed to every beat. Your movements were so fluid it surprised even you. You kept a good expression spread over your face as you took center for your part and then just as easily fell back into the background with everyone else.

By the time the song was over, you could barely breathe. You could hardly think. You felt... Nothing.

“This has been the Infinity Idols thank you and goodnight Japan!”

The lights went off, returning the street to its natural lighting. Your entire group began to hug each other. They were smiling so widely, and you dropped down to the ground, unable to say anything smart, or even smile at all.

You couldn’t feel happy about this. You couldn’t feel good about all the arranging you had done, about all of the work you had put into this performance. Not even as people came up to tell you all what a good job you had done. Not even when team members came up to thank you for all your hard work.

You got up, and you gave them that fake smile, and you thanked people for coming out and supporting everyone and everything, but you couldn’t in your right mind feel good about all you had done.

Not even as people asked for pictures with you, or claimed that you had looked like you belonged on-stage.

You were living your dream, but you couldn’t feel happy because...

“Well, it would have been perfect if we had just waited, but nope, y/n couldn’t wait to have her precious performance go exactly the way she wanted it.”

You knew that Kaylin didn’t always think things like this through. You knew what it was like when she was mad at you. You were more than used to her making you feel bad for making a decision she didn’t like. It had already happened a lot in your short time here in Korea.

But that didn’t mean you still didn’t feel it.

You were shit, the worst shit to exist. You never should have gone against her, you should have just let her do what she wanted, because now... Now you were public enemy number one, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Well, that was quite the performance.”

You didn’t respond right away. Your back was to the person speaking to you. There was something about their voice that made you want to address them... Their Japanese was awful.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed,” you autopiloted, turning around to face the stranger. “We really do appreciate all of the sup-”

You interrupted yourself when you laid eyes on the speaker.

Eyes hid beneath the visor of a black hat, mouth and nose hidden beneath a face mask. A tuft of dark brown hair peeked out from beneath the edge of the hat near the stranger's ear.

You wanted to cry.

“Jihoon.”

“Hey.”

You pushed yourself forward with a passion you didn’t realize you even still had and wrapped your arms around the idol's body tightly squeezing him close to you.

Suddenly you couldn’t imagine being with anybody else, in any other situation.

Why did Jihoon have to make you feel so much better so easily?

It was like when you had your arms wrapped around him, you could suddenly feel again.

Air was easily leaving and entering your mouth, each inhale and exhale sharper and sharper than the last. Your fingers dug into the cloth of Jihoon’s jacket, and you tugged him closer to you, afraid to speak because you didn’t want to know what your voice would sound like if you dared to let anything escape your lips.

“You couldn’t tell you know that right?” Jihoon mumbled softly into your shoulder. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Tell...” Your voice didn’t sound too bad. It was steady. You cleared your throat. “Tell what?”

“Tell that you were dying inside,” Jihoon responded. “In fact, I think that if you forget whoever said something to you that made you want to hate yourself, you’ll find that deep down, you had a really, really good time.”

Your eyes were warm as tears pricked at the back of them. The thought of crying hung over you, but you pushed it down immediately.

“What makes you think I’m dying inside?” You asked. “I’m feeling perfectly fine.”

Jihoon tried to press you back, presumably so that he could look at you in the eyes, but you wouldn’t let him do it. Instead, you swallowed thickly and tightened your grip on him. Jihoon chuckled.

“Because if you were perfectly fine, you wouldn’t be hugging me so tightly,” he responded. “What is it that one of your favorite tv characters once said? Never trust a hug, it’s just a way of hiding your face?”

You allowed yourself to push back out of the hug, and your expression turned into one of pure confusion.

“Okay, explain how you know that one,” you stated. “I know I didn’t tell you about it.”

“How about instead we go get a bite to eat?” Jihoon suggested. “Soonyoung tells me you aren’t eating after all.”

You fully pulled off of Jihoon and faked ignorance.

“Eat?” You asked dumbly. You opened your mouth more widely and pointed at the sky. “What... What on Earth is that?”

“Ha ha,” Jihoon deadpanned. He reached forward and took your wrist in his hand. “Come on.”

He began to drag you forward and you half-heartedly protested.

“Hey! I have to like say goodbye and-”

Jihoon actually rolled his eyes and glanced around at the crowd of people. Like he was looking for something. He must not have found it because he then turned back towards you, tugged you close and pressed his lips to yours.

You pulled back so fast you almost fell over.

“Are you crazy-”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, and nobody is looking,” Jihoon responded. You could almost see the large contagious smile that was spread over his lips. It made your lips quirk upwards as well.

“I guess it’s okay to be a little crazy then,” you mumbled shyly. He laughed and shifted his grip so that he could clutch your hand instead of your wrist and began to direct you through the streets.

“Anyway, how have you really been since I left?” He asked softly. “Not overworking yourself or anything are you?”

“I could ask you the same,” you retorted in annoyance. “I’ve seen how tired you look in the most recent pictures.”

“We’ve been-”

“Busy? You better hope so considering how you have looked recently.”

You flicked him on the forehead gently, and he caught your other hand and kissed you again on the lips. You smiled against his lips, unable to help it.

“Hey,” You mumbled. “Don’t distract me.”

“I can’t help it, you’re distracting me.”

You found it increasingly odd that he was so happy. You hardly ever saw him this happy, and to imagine that it was because of you...

He seemed to have the same line of thought as you because he looked away from you for a moment and when he looked back he wasn’t smiling as widely.

“You know when I became an idol I gave up on the idea that I would befriend a girl,” he mumbled. You glanced at him.

“Yeah, I can understand that,” you agreed. He nodded, and his gaze trailed away from you.

“No but really. Meeting someone like you is a dream.”

“I feel the same way,” you agreed softly. “When I got over my last crush, I had completely given up hope on getting anyone to fall in love with me, and then I fell for you and I thought that this was all hopeless.”

“You fell for me?” He asked. You froze.

Geez, you’d never said it out loud to his face before had you? Why were you saying it now? Just because it had been so long since you last saw him? Were you crazy?

“Hey don’t let that one go to your head, it’s not like I like you or anything,” you scoffed. Jihoon laughed.

“Oh trust me I know you don’t,” he responded firmly. His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “And in case you are confused, I don’t like you either you know?”

“I wouldn’t even imagine it,” you responded shaking your head confidently. “We’re just...”

“Yeah! We’re just...”

Neither of them could fill in the blanks, so Jihoon cleared his throat.

“Alright! Here’s the place I wanted to take you to!” He declared triumphantly. He gestured towards the restaurant in front of him... It looked like a sushi place, and you happily took the change in conversation.

“Looks nice,’ you stated. You opened the door for him and waited for him to walk into the restaurant, but instead, he came up behind you and nudged you forward with his knee.

“After you y/n.”

Your face reddened and you nodded, dipping into the store shyly.

Chapter Thirteen

#Click Click by leejihoonownsmyheart #Lee Jihoon #lee jihoon seventeen #Seventeen #seventeen kpop #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #woozi #woozi imagines #Svt #svt woozi #svt fanfic #svt kpop #svt lee jihoon

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frankiefellinlove · 5 years

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I almost cried because I couldn’t attend this event 😔

Report of Archives shown in Asbury Park today

By Stan Goldstein

What a shame this wasn't recorded or filmed or even photos exist yet. The Asbury Park Music and Film Festival photographer was allowed to take pictures of the talk and hopefully they will appear soon.

This was one for the ages. It was spectacular!! Bruce was there. He did a Q&A at the end. Ten videos shown.

Then they had the talk. Thom Zimny and Chris Phillips came out, there was a third chair. Before they started Thom waved to the side of the stage and said "Come out now" and Bruce walked out to a standing ovation.. What followed was an incredible Q & A. It's a shame this wasn't recorded, but I took a lot of notes.

Some breaking news from it.

Bruce said that a DVD/video will be coming out of the full New Orleans Jazzfest show from 2006.

Bruce said that show was "One of his Top-5 live performing experiences."

Bruce also said he would love to see a full Tunnel of Love show come out.

Bruce said a lot of this footage he had never seen before. He said he never saw the clip with Clarence from Buffalo in 2009 before.

Bruce says he's amazed what he can find on Youtube and suggest fans should go there to find some things.

He was very relaxed. Wore a black sweat shirt (sweater? ladies need your help here) with a "5" on it.

Some quotes from Bruce:

"I have lived many lives, many I haven't seen myself," after seeing this footage.

Bruce said they were "superstitious about being filmed in the early days. That's why we never did any TV. We felt that a magician should not look too close at his magic trick."

Bruce then gave a shout out to Barry Rebo who was in the audience. Barry is the one who shot much of the early footage.

Bruce said he was surprised to find out what they have (in the vaults). "I feel glad that Thom was able to dig up this stuff."

Bruce said when they did the filming for "Live in New York City" in 2000 that he felt "he was finally getting over the wall" of not liking to be filmed.

This was after Chris asked him about the Blood Brothers documentary from 1995 being one of the first things being filmed officially.

Bruce had a funny line about being recorded/filmed: "You always think you are more handsome than you actually are and you always think you sound better than you actually do."

Bruce said the 1975 Bottom Line shows "Really changed the life of the band. We were officially contenders. We no longer had to be good, we had to be GREAT! every night." to which many in the ground yelled out "You are!"

Chris asked about doing 10 Bottom Line shows in five days in 1975 (early and late show) and Bruce said they were only an hour-and-a-half each, so it wasn't too bad.

Chris Phillips tried to ask him about the new album but Bruce said he didn't really want to talk about it.

The 10 songs:

1. When You Walk In The Room - Bottom Line, August 16?,1975

One-camera color. Not great quality but who's going to complain seeing Bruce from this era

2. Apollo Medley - Apollo Theater, NYC, March 9, 2012

Chris Phillips asked Bruce about this. It's the clip where Bruce goes up in the balcony and sings from the front, really dangerous.

Bruce: "I don't know what I was thinking when I did that. It wasn't planned, no one was following me. I just said fuck it and I then fucked up the whole arrangement with the band. I was just glad to find some pipes to hold on to. We do perform some death-defying acts."

Bruce also said it was incredible to play there with all the history of the place and it was a great way to break the band in to start the Wrecking Ball tour. Said it was Jake's first show and "there was no pressure."

Bruce also said to Thom that they should put this out someday too. It was all professionally filmed with multiple cameras. This footage was awesome. The look on Patti's face when Bruce was in the balcony was priceless.

3. New York City Serenade, Dec. 15, 1973, Nassau Community College, black and white, two cameras: Rough footagae but incredible.

Chris Phillips asked about David Sancious playing on this. This was the original E Street Band: Bruce, Garry, David, Danny and Vini Lopez. This clip was shown at the Monmouth U. archives event in 2014. A magical clip. David on the piano is spectacular.

"David is one of the most musically talented people I have met and on the planet. His ability to cover everything, he's a master. I loved to have him in the band."

Chris then said "Well there's the elephant in the room. We have some new music and David plays on it and Bruce said "Yea, he plays on some of it. But we don't have to talk about that."

4. My City Of Ruins - Seeger Sessions, Jazzfest, 2006

Pro-shot, multiple camera footage. Great shots of the crowd singing along "Rise Up!" According to Bruce, this whole show will be out at some point.

Bruce: "The Sessions Band was a great band. I want to do that again. It was a great day. The day before we went driving down to the Ninth Ward. Rock and Roll is best when the stakes are on the table and go go against trouble and hard times. It was good to perform there and serve."

Bruce said to come back to Asbury Park now is so great to see how it is doing. He said he feels like the "Ghost of Christmas past" when he walks around

5. Quarter to Three, Bottom Line, August 16, 1975

Bruce asked Thom Zimny who shot this? And Thom told him Barry Rebo.

Great, color, one-camera footage. Bruce is all over the place. Dancing on the center table in front of the stage. Jumping on Danny's organ then going over to Roy's piano. At one point he drops his guitar pick and a fan hands it back to him. Young, classic Bruce at his best.

Bruce said the band was physically and literally half the size they are now back in those days compared to the Apollo footage now. .

6. Promised Land - Freehold, Nov. 8, 1996

A one-camera close up shot of Bruce in color. Not the greatest video but I'm not going to complain.

Bruce said "going back to St. Rose of Lima was tough enough. I did debut 'Freehold' that night.

7. Who Do You Love/She's the One - Tunnel of Love tour, Rotterdam, June 28,1988.

May have been the highlight clip of the afternoon. Hard rocking E Street Band with the spotlight on Clarence. He's at his peak physically and is all over. "The sight of the The Big Man and the maracas" Bruce said with a smile.

Some epic footage of Bruce and Clarence practically making love on stage. You have to see it to understand. The women in the audience particularly liked this clip.

This is when Bruce said "We should put out a Tunnel of Love show."

8. Patti Scialfa doing "Tell Him" from the Stone Pony 10th anniversary show, 1984 with Cats on a Smooth Surface. Nice color, one-camera shot.

"I almost had her here today," Bruce said. "That's the night I met my wife, 30 years ago at the Stone Pony. As I said in the Broadway show, it was the first time I heard her sing. She was playing with Bobby Bandiera, an Asbury Park hero."

Bruce asked where that footage came from and Thom Zimny said Kevin Buell knew someone who had it.

9. Sandy - Dec. 15, 1973, acoustic with Danny Federici, black and white. Nice version but a bit slow. But hey it's classic Danny and Bruce.

Bruce kidded that "I thought I was going to fall asleep at any moment. I went to the bathroom and came back I was still playing!"

Chris asked Bruce a little bit more about "Sandy" and the writing of it and Bruce said "Sandy was when things were just starting to happen for the band. It was a goodbye to Asbury Park. The last night Danny Federici played with us (Indianapolis, March 20, 2008) I asked him what he wanted to play and he said 'Sandy.' The song was appropriate because I wrote it It as the ending of something wonderful and the beginning of something new. We were leaving Asbury Park just as things were changing,"

10. Growing Up - Buffalo, Nov. 22, 2009. With the story of meeting Clarence.

Bruce said he had never seen this clip before. "The story is completely true, all those things. It actually happened. Looking at that, I really miss the Big Man" Bruce said as he and the crowd got a bit emotional.

Toward the end Bruce thanked Thom Zimny, saying "He has allowed us to use this great footage. He's like another member of the band."

Bruce said how he saw a Jean Claude van Damme movie and called Thom up and said "we should look like that for the Darkness taping right on this stage." Which was done in December of 2009, the filming of the band playing the entire album for the box set.

Bruce also commended Thom for his work on "Springsteen on Broadway" and said "Broadway was going well, let's not fuck this thing up!" Bruce kidded that the "magic begins with: 'Do I look great?'"

There was a little bit of talk about the "Night with the Jersey Devil" film and the short movie made from "Hunter of Invisible Game."

Chris Phillips also asked Bruce about the Upstage movie that is being shown tomorrow and what Bruce thought about the original version which he saw in 2017.

"Why am I not in this?" Bruce said. He then did do an interview for it which will be in the new version. He continued: "That last time I walked into the Upstage it looked exactly how it looked in 1968."

Some notes: Cameron Crowe was in the audience as were the Farrelly Brothers.

When I got to my seat, I was told I was being moved. I bought a single ticket the moment they were on sale and ended up in the first row. They told me my seat was going to be used by Bruce and his family. I got bumped up to a folding chair in the pit right in front of the stage. A little tough to watch the videos but right in front of Bruce for the Q&A so no complaints here. As it turned out, Bruce never sat in the seats anyway. He did watch from the side up against the wall of the lower right (facing the stage) orchestra for a bit

The locking up the cellphones thing worked well. In a way it was kind of nice not having a zillion phones up when Bruce was onstage but what a shame that it wasn't record for "the archives", then again, maybe it was. I don't know.

Great job by Chris Phillips. What I liked is he asked "fan-type"" questions, not like how a New York Times or Rolling Stone writer would try to talk about it.

And if you stayed this long, thank you for reading

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mrjdwyer · 6 years

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Pilgrim, Reptile and Back Home- Clapton at his best

For all who know me, you know that aside from Prince, and Stevie Wonder, the musician I love the most is Eric Clapton. My love of his music goes way back to the day I was four and heard his “I Shot the Sheriff” version on Jamaican radio for the first time. Something about Marcy Levy and Yvonne Elliman’s background vocals that resonated with much more than The Wailer’s harmonies. For the record, before I get slammed by my fellow Jamaican Yardies, Marley’s lead vocals are superior to Eric’s laid-back approach on that tune.

But the love affair started there and kind of faded away until I was a teen and fell in love with rock and roll music after coming to the states in 1980. And Eric Clapton was one of the artists I totally fell in love with all over again.

In 1985 he released Behind the Sun, which, to me, a teenager who had barely listened to the thousands of albums that I was yet to own and memorize, it was as perfect an album that I had heard since Stevie Wonder’s “Songs in the Key of Life” came and took me to another level of musical experience and changed my life. The same way Prince’s “Purple Rain” shook me to my core a year earlier.

What struck me about “Behind the Sun” was the incredible album cover (still one of my all time favorites, it just compelled me to listen to it) and the incredible singer that Clapton had become. To me, he is one of the most soulful singers out there that isn’t Black. Of course, his guitar work was incredible as always, but I really liked that this album sounded fresh. “Forever Man” had two fantastic solos and the album featured some great guest musicians, like Lindsey Buckingham and the always recording, Steve Lukather, guitarist to one of my all-time favorite bands ever, Toto.

That album made me a bonafide Clapton fan. I went out and over the years and got everything he ever recorded and bought albums he loved that influenced him. He got me on the quest on going back in time and finding the masters. Through him, I discovered some of the old Blues greats like John Lee Hooker, Blind Willie McTell, Lightnin’ Hopkins and a whole range of old blues artists and then contemporary ones like Stevie Ray Vaughan, Robert Cray, Albert Colins, Buddy Guy and many, many others.

Now most Clapton fans, love him for his guitar work and that fan base is divided into 2 camps: “The Bluesbreakers and Cream years,” and the “Derek and the Dominos and the 70s years.” Almost no one rants and raves about Clapton in the 90s and 2000s years.

Almost. But I am here to tell you that those decades are the years that Clapton really resonated with me.

If you listen to Clapton’s output- especially the 70s material now, and especially after reading his autobiography, you can actually hear the drugs and alcohol. With the exception of Derek and Dominos “Layla and Assorted Love Songs”, whenever I listen to the 70s stuff, I can actually hear the effect alcoholism was taking on his life. It is particularly apparent on Backless and Another Ticket, two incredibly lackluster albums that just sound sloppy drunk to me, from singing to playing. While I love certain tracks off them, I can’t help but feel totally underwhelmed in the event that I actually play them.

During the seventies, Clapton was trying to be a singer-songwriter and not a guitar god. He wanted to be a part of the Band and then he wanted to be a country singer, but a rock god was out of the question, as he tried to drink away the demons that were haunting him in his personal life and his professional one.

Which brings me to what I think are the three seminal Eric Clapton albums that defined him not only as the guitar god that he was finally comfortable being but also as a damn fine, soulful singer— something that he admits he was never confident with, until now.

Those three albums are: “Pilgrim,” Reptile,” and “Back Home.”

To me, if you want to know who Eric Clapton, the man, and artist is today, these three albums, sum it up with grace and class and dignity with fantastic singing and guitar work.

Pilgrim is an album, that Clapton regards in his autobiography as his favorite album. He put his heart and soul into that record. He hung all his emotions out for all to hear. And it worked. He wrote the vast majority of the album, all gems either by himself or with his collaborators like Simon Climie and Greg Phillinganes. There are only two songs by other artists, and those two songs are also masterpieces as well as the others. Bob Dylan’s “Born in Time” is just a beautiful song and is the moving “Going Down Slow.” But the real, true gems on the album are “My Father’s Eyes,” a song about his experience as a father (his son Connor died tragically in 1991) and also about him not knowing what a real father was himself, and the sad and deeply moving account of the last night Clapton spent with his son- a few hours before his tragic death, “Circus.” Both are deep and heavy songs and the rest of the album is filled with plaintive, mournful songs that are actually beautiful to listen to and feel and at the end of the album, there is hope and redemption, which is really what the blues ultimately is about; you sing the blues to rid yourself of pain and to ultimately feel better. Be sure though, Pilgrim is not a blues album. It is a brilliant pop record.

Reptile is a sleeper album. Most of the critics called it a solid album, but ultimately not a revelation. To me, it is, because once again, he wrote half of the album, and the other songs the aren’t his, are once again, premium songs by Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder and Doyle Bramhall II. And there is the fact that The Impressions are there doing background vocals on the album as is Billy Preston. To me, there are 5 standouts on the record, Ray Charles’ “Come Back Baby,” James Taylor’s “Don’t Let me Be Lonely Tonight,” (to be fair, it’s really a cover of The Isley Brothers’ cover of James Taylor’s tune), Stevie Wonder’s “I Ain’t Gonna Stand For It,” Clapton’s own “Believe in Light,” and the rocking “Superman Inside” by himself, Doyle Bramhall II and Susannah Melvoin. The rest of the songs are gorgeous as well, but these songs are just stellar. And his singing and playing are superb.

Now you’ve read me ranting and raving about these two albums which are just incredible listening experiences, but the album that means the most to me is Back Home. There aren’t enough superlatives to describe my love of this album. Released in 2005, this Clapton album, like “Pilgrim” had Eric giving his all and you can hear it in every note. The album opens with “So Tired,” a fun, uptempo number about his being a father and being constantly tired. For me, I was a father just 2 years before that and I could totally relate to the song. The song was also a love letter to his daughters and his wife and his love of the simple, domestic life. I can totally relate to that as well. It is a fun song with some exquisitely understated guitar work.

Then comes the reggae “Say What You Will.” Now some can say that Eric Clapton made reggae and international sensation since he popularized it and then in return the world fell in love with it and of course, the one and only Bob Marley. But for me, Eric’s vocals on the song always seemed just okay. This goes back to the fact that he was just a few months removed from being a heroin addict, and was gong taught into being a drunk and also, he himself was not comfortable with him being a singer, even though he had a beautiful voice. Well not anymore, “Say What You Will” is beautifully performed and sung and it is not a reggae ripoff, but a genuine reggae song with lovely, subtle horns.

The album then takes a great turn into a raucous cover of the late and great Syreeta Wright’s incredible “I’m Going Left” that she wrote with her then-husband, Stevie Wonder. His singing is confident and deeply soulful. His band is also incredible throughout the entire album. The core band features one of the greatest drummers of all time, Steve Gadd, Doyle Bramhall II on guitars, Nathan East on bass, Billy Preston on keys and Hammond organ, Chris Stainton on piano and Michelle John and Sharon White on background vocals. I don’t think Eric has ever had a better band than this one. And this is coming from me who was a huge fan of the Steve Ferrone, Greg Philinganes and Nathan East rhythm section of the Journeyman album and subsequent tour that brought you the 24 Nights live album.

After the rousing “I’m Going Left,” comes one of the greatest songs ever and Eric does a cover of it that not only does justice to the original, but also takes it to another level. Those who know me, know my love of The Spinners. And “Love Don’t Love Nobody” might be their best and one the finest songs of the 20th century. It is a marvel of emotion and song arrangement by genius producer and fellow Jamaican, Thom Bell who was instrumental along with Gamble and Huff with creating the legendary Philadelphia Sound. Clapton’s take on it features a guitar solo, complete with a backing orchestra, that’s so beautiful, that will bring you to tears. Yes, it is that good!

After that emotional ride, it’s time to relax with another great reggae number, “Revolution.” This one might even be better than “Say What You Will.” It’s a great song.

His sweet and sincere cover of “Loves Comes to Everyone” is a fitting tribute to the late, great and often lamented, George Harrison. The simplicity of the song is what makes the song so beautiful.

After “Loves Comes to Everyone” is a fun and sly number written by Doyle Bramhall II and Jeremy Stacey, “Lost & Found.“ As with most things, Doyle Bramhall, it is a funky, soulful tune with a fantastic band arrangement. The infectious rhythm gets you every time.

After that is another Doyle Bramhall Ii penned tune, “Piece of My Heart”. This time his ex-wife, )former Family keyboardist and lead vocalist, and current F Deluxe keyboardist and lead vocalist and identical twin sister of guitarist Wendy Melvoin of Wendy and Lisa fame as well as former guitarist for Prince and The Revolution), Susannah Melvoin, and Mike Elizondo. Can’t say anything except that it’s a great number, as are the next two tunes, the Vince Gill, Beverly Darnall penned “One Day” and Clapton, Simon Climie penned “One Track Mind”.

But the track that gets me every single time is the incredibly moving “Run Home to Me,” another Clapton/Climie collaboration. Let’s just say, if you’re a parent that loves being a parent, there isn’t a song that sums up the love of a parent and their child like this one. It’s a deeply personal song for Eric that happens to evoke the universal love that most parents have for their children:

“When it’s 3 o'clock in the morning, And something scared you from your breast, I will gently rock you in my arms, And lay your little head on my chest,

And when you run, from my arms, Know we’ll always find you. And when you run, out of loving, And run home to me. (Run home to me)

And the years fly by so quickly, Like a plane before my eyes, And you’ve grown up into a woman, Before I had time, had time to realize.

And then you’ll run, from my arms, And we’ll always come and find you. And when you run, out of loving, Then run home to me.

Lord when you run, run out of my arms, We will always come and find you, And when you run, out of loving, Then run home to me. (Run home to me)”

Yes, this is really it. That is love. That is exactly what my wife and I have have done for our child. And it will never stop. I always get choked up hearing this song. Every time. It just gets me in a way that very few songs have done to me. And I can list those songs on one hand.

And the closer, “Back Home” is the perfect song to close this incredible song cycle. It’s all about a road wary Clapton and his need to go home to his family, where he belongs.

Where I belong.

“I’ve been on the road too long Moving in the wrong direction I don’t know where I belong I don’t know what I will do If I can’t get back home”

Perfection.

#Eric Clapton #Clapton #Music #Reptile #Pilgrim #Back Home #Best

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