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#my roundhouse would be like a belly scratch to them
snackugaki · 1 year
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boys from the bay: the bullying (will never stop)
The Hit List omake because have I got Jokes™ to spare (’cuz if I’m not bullying the Next Mutation turtles, it’s the Bayverse)
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insomniac-arrest · 7 years
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Kissing the Pacific
story based off of @rasec-wizzlbang ‘s post here
summary: Josh is kind of still in school and mostly trying to make it as a nothing beach bum in Honolulu, he thought his first love was the waves and the second costco free samples- then he’s challenged to a fight at sundown during surf competition season
It doesn’t end how he expects.
tl:dr- an Australian and Californian surfer fall in love
The sun was going down next to a rising bonfire and down on the choppy surf, the water blazed against the paradise view and Josh can only put his hands up loosely.
“Look, man, I have like 68 cents in change and like, I totally don’t know how to convert that,” Josh reached for his empty pockets and realized they were just swim shorts with holes in them, “sorry dude.” The other surfer had sun speckled skin and a good couple inches on him, he squared his shoulders, “I said, pound-town.” He emphasized with his fists up, “not pounds. Square up derro.”
Josh threaded his fingers through his hair and pushed his bangs back, “okay, cool cool, fighting. I thought you wanted money.” Lucas, the guy who came in third at the tournament yesterday was widening his stance and Josh was looking past the palm trees to the little series of houses lighting up one by one.
“Oi, come on, eyes forward, I’m about to take the piss out of you.” He pushed on his shoulder roughly and Josh’s mouth fell open. “We’ll do it fair.”
“I’m sure,” He raised his hands higher, “but we could like get an interventionist or like, I think I could find a stick to talk with? I didn’t even medal today soooo I don’t see…the issue?” He rubbed the back of his neck and more hair fell out of his pony tail.
“Don’t give me that yank, I heard loud and clear you were aiming for a lick, well I’m here.” His nostrils flared and Josh raised his eyebrows.
“Who said I want to lick what?”
Lucas leaned back a little, “they said you thought I was an arse with a bad taste in guys. Said you wanted to square up.”
“Uh,” Josh looked at his broad chest and scuffed his feet in the sand, “I guess we could fight if you want, but no ankle shots, I gotta ride on these bad boys.” Lucas raised both eyebrows and put his fists down, “you really didn’t call my sister a slag?” Josh frowned, “I don’t think I even know what that is.” Lucas let out a full-bellied laugh and slapped him on the back, “I see, Debby is a fuckin’ liar, you don’t seem like the fighting type then.” Josh was feeling slight whiplash, but it wasn’t as bad as when he took the Route 27 home at rush hour so that was fair, “oh damn, no way. Do you know how many fights I can afford? I can’t even afford normal beef right now.” Lucas gave another delighted laugh.
“You aren’t bad yank.” “Yank?” He snorts, “I’m from California.”
He smiles back at him, “Let me buy you a drink, no hard feelings.” Josh lifts his chin, “Righteous.”
Lucas pushed him by the shoulders to the nearest bar, “you see those 10 footers today?” “That is why I come down here, oh man.” He passes some girls in grass skirts and a series of five open-roof jeeps. Lucas pats him roughly on the back again, “come out with me tomorrow morning.” Josh shifted from foot to foot, “right on. Sun rises at 6 here, we can get out before then.” They enter the open-air pub, “if you can get up tomorrow at 6 after you drink with me mate, then I’ll buy you rounds for the whole week.” Josh turned around with a lopsided grin, “don’t think I’m not going to keep up guy. Sons of Cali go hard too.” Lucas just gave him a sideways look, “oh ho ho, well I guess we’ll see.” He taps on the wood of the bar surface.
“Yeah,” he tied his hair back properly again, “I rushed with beta phi.” Lucas shook his head, “I’ll pay you five bucks when you regret this.” He rolled his eyes and Lucas bought him his first locally brewed Hawaiian lager, it was like Freshman rush but he couldn’t look at the dude’s face too much. He didn’t like being blinded much and couldn’t do much but take another drink from the guy. He laughs about something he doesn’t remember until it hurts and sips down more rounds than he could properly count.
“To the waves,” Josh cheers at his tenth drink and having Lucas hold him up.
“To gangly pacifist sons of Cali,” Lucas winks down, “and not puking on my shoes.”
Josh shook his head, “to us then man.” They push back another, he’d run with the best of them.
——–
Josh thinks his hangover has a hangover.
He barely remembers the walk over as he staggers through the empty streets to Lucas’s hotel at the crack of dawn. Maybe he couldn’t feel his teeth and had twelve mysterious bruises, but some things like spite and proving a point came first. A painful first.
He stumbles to the motel front desk and asks for Lucas Lee three times with varying degrees of success. She manages to ring the room, but the place seemed to be empty.
The other surfer comes down a second later with two coffees and the look of someone who had showered and maintained a proper amount of stubble from the day before. Josh just groans.
“What’s shaking gorgeous.”
“A lot of Advil,” he tries to chuckle.
“I’ll be honest, didn’t think I’d see you today mate.” He hands him the other coffee, “knew you were a true surfer.” Josh just rubs at his eyes, “you bet your down under ass I am.” He sways in place, “you owe me another round tonight that means.” Lucas cajole’s him toward the door, “how ‘bout a round of waters this time. And get some food in you.” He agrees fully. Josh isn’t entirely sure how they make it to the beach, but Lucas tells him stories about his roommate doing keg stands and his head clears up a little bit. The surf is like a beautiful quilted cup of blue when they arrive, a mesh of fading and arriving colors, Josh almost cries when he sees it.
Then he lies down in the sand and presses his palms to his eye sockets, “Ugh.” Lucas snickers at him and they let another group of surfers go on ahead of them.
Josh briefly squints open his eyes, Lucas was already shirtless and in a pair of professional wet shorts. “Go on,” Josh waves weakly, “I’m a dead man crawling. I think I owe you five bucks or something.” Lucas nudges him, “nah, deal was I owe you five bucks for regret and being cocky.” He sits down next to him, “cute cocky, no worries.” “Gross cocky now.” He taps him with his foot, “I’ll take you on the water when you feel a little better.” He makes him drink water and tells him about the coral reefs in Sydney, the undertow and eels he caught, the bleaching of the flora and the second year of his enviro major.
Josh briefly talks about his finance classes before making a gagging motion and Lucas laughs with the sun.
The waves are calm that day, shallow and easy, Lucas just lets him straddle his board and push off into the deep sea. They just float for the day, talking and leaning back on the one long board.
He drags his feet through the water and lets the spray wash his face, they float.
———
“So, it was drinks for the week, right?” Josh says the next day with his shades on and better cologne on then ‘the morning after rank,’ “‘cause I wasn’t kidding about that 68 cents thing dude.” Lucas leans back on the wall of the breakfast nook they met at, “how are you even surviving here? Honolulu isn’t known for being cheap.” Josh had been floating around Honolulu for a month now.
Josh taps the side of his nose, “Let’s just say I play a mean street guitar.”
Lucas leans forward and chuckles, “of course you do.” “Hey man, I totally do!” He shows him his almost-just-as-good air guitar moves.
“No, I mean, I’d like to see that.” Lucas was smiling a 100-watt environmentally friendly solar panel powered smile and Josh has to look at his feet and scratch his hand.
“K, right, cool.” He runs to get his guitar.
He unironically plays Wonderwall and gets a couple extra bucks from the corner store lesbian couple when he plays All You Need is Love followed by I Want to Hold Your Hand. He may or may not look Lucas in the eye when he hesitantly glances up.
He gets another dollar.
He’d done more embarrassing things for less money, but the Beatles were coming through for him again.
———-
It was a fast two weeks, a week of impromptu challenges and soccer games, of beach sand castles and hanging out until dawn.
It was a quick two weeks.
Lucas was apparently leaving on the 25th, Josh had a pretty poor sense of time and a second tournament to finish up. He finally medals that day, but he wasn’t really here for the gold, he was here to go with the flow and maybe catch a ten footer.
And now maybe something else.
Josh shouldn’t feel like he was getting his first wipe out on a beautiful day, with his stomach twisting and a sense of bruising on the inside like a soft peach, it was pretty uncool.
He would take out another joint and try to quiet the humming but his dealer had cut him off until he agreed to play halo with him like he promised (“you’re spending all your time with that Aussie flake”).
Maybe he’d switch to vaping.
The 25th crept up like a bad dream and Josh actually remembered to plug his phone in the night before so he could text as much as possible the next day. He was doing one more ‘Sunshine Hawaii’ friendly competition and then Lucas had his own tournament. Josh runs down half the island it feels like to get there.
“Lame, lame, lame,” he stubs his toe on the way and skids past five and a half flustered looking tourists as he sprints toward Waimea beach.
He makes it in time to see Lucas do you a bottom turn and a spectacular roundhouse cutback, the water under his board parting in a clean blitz as he hit the lip of the wave. “Woo!”
Josh ran down the beach and gave him a thumbs up before he even finishes the foam climb and eases back down.
“Damn Lucas, damn!” He bounces on his heels and wishes for once his best shirt wasn’t a faded coca cola tee. He bounces again, Lucas was coming in.
There is a scratching of pens at a table nearby and Josh isn’t even looking, he never really did anyway.
Lucas waves both hands as he paddles back in, “Pretty good, right?” He mouths.
“Fuckin’ sweet!” He shouts and doesn’t care at the crowd flashing him bent looks.
Lucas came in at the next tide and Josh expected him to go give a play-nice smile to the judges, he makes a beeline toward him instead.
“Man, I am totally going to miss you when you go dude,” Josh cups his mouth and yells, “I want to see that like ten more times.”
Lucas was fast walking, “don’t remind me I’m leaving.” He calls back loudly.
“Nah, you’re leaving man,” he says with a slight dip in his stomach, “but like, on a high note, can’t believe-” “Not yet,” Lucas grabs Josh’s shoulders, “you run all the way here from Waimea?”
He just pulls his hair back and grins, “yeah.”
“Good Lord,” He blinks, “is that a ‘kiss me now’ gesture or should I just think guys from Cali are crazy.”
“Yeah.”
Lucas leans forward tentatively and Josh upswings into a solid kiss, crowd be damned and sexuality be wavy at best.
It tastes like salt and feels like a gliding through the barrel on a board, which is exactly how he wanted all his kisses to taste and every high to feel like. It melts like a sunset and dawns in his belly like a sweet starburst, the whole world is slow and he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
He could live in that moment and not time zones or countries ever again.
They come up with a visiting schedule and download the Avocado couples app.
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vileart · 7 years
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Quarterife Dramaturgy: Yolanda Mercy @ Edfringe 2017
THEATRE (New Writing and Spoken Word) 
Yolanda Mercy, Gemma Lloyd and Jade Lewis in association with Underbelly Untapped presents: 
Quarter Life Crisis 
WORLD PREMIERE 
Tackling heritage, expectations, generational guilt and wanting to keep a 16-25 railcard, Yolanda Mercy asks what does it mean to be a grown up? Written and Performed by Yolanda Mercy Original Music composed and played live by Luay Eljamal Underbelly, Delhi Belly, 3 – 27 Aug 2017 (not 14), 14.40 (15.40) Part of the Underbelly Untapped season, Yolanda Mercy looks at her own life and the lives of the generations before her in a semi-autobiographical, painfully honest piece about being in your mid-twenties all depicted through the relatable character Alicia. 
She wrestles with responsibilities and expectations, tries to justify herself against generations who had a plan by the time they were 20, attempts to balance her London upbringing with her Nigerian heritage, and trying to figure out where the fun in all that is... Alicia is a hot mess. She doesn't know what she's doing with her life. Swiping left, swiping right to find the perfect match. 
Even though she's a Londoner, born
and bred, the scent of Lagos peppers her existence in the ends. Everyone around her seems to know where they're going in life, but she's trying to find ways to cheat growing up and keep her 16-25 railcard. What does it mean to be an adult, and when do you become one? Quarter Life Crisis mixes addictive basslines, spoken word and audience participation. 
What was the inspiration for this performance?
 My cousin was getting married, my friend was having a baby and all I could think about was ways to cheat the system by keeping my young persons railcard (past being 25).  Realising that everyone around me was “adulting”, I turned to my laptop and made this story into a play.
Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas? 
Yes, I really believe that performance is still a very good space for ideas. We spend hours listening to our favourite artist (Drake if you are me), then await the moment when you get spend an evening seeing them perform live with other people who are drawn to the lyrics, beats or energy of the artist. 
I believe the same is for theatre. We spend money to hear the thoughts or messages of an author, who has questions about the world – so places this on stage, with lights, set and a talented team. By doing this, I believe we (writers) offer up a platform for discussion which can sometimes offer a place to empower the voice of people who feel underrepresented. 
I found this when I wrote my first play On The Edge of Me, which explored graduate unemployment and mental health issues. It was astonishing to receive messages, tweets and sometimes be grabbed (physically) by audiences who would say ‘that's my story on stage’. 
I always get taken aback when I hear that, as I know it is not possible for it to be that persons direct story- because I wrote my play in Stockwell and they live in Manchester, but it is very clear to me that the themes within the play resonates with the audience- enough for them to want to start a conversation, seek support (in regards to mental health issues) and find ways to break the stigma attached.
How did you become interested in making performance?
I became interested in performance from watching…. Lord knows I used to watch a lot of people growing up. Be it the spice girls or the Matthew Bourne Company… Yes I love me some of The Car Man. I spent hours learning routines from shows, and reciting lines (from Grease)- all to the amazement of my silent audiences (who were my Barbies and Teddy bears). 
Of course this was when I was 5 years old (or maybe last week…shhh!). But I fell in love with how artists can tell a story through their body and voice. This then led me to pursue the arts further by studying dance at The Royal Academy of Dance, then attending the BRIT school (from age 14), where I learnt from amazing artists about how and why you make performance. 
Is there any particular approach to the making of the show?
I would say that I prefer approaching a show in a collaborative way, because 3 heads are better than 1. I may sit down and write the script, but I share my drafts with my wonderful dramaturg (aka script doctor) Jules Haworth who really helps me to dig deeper and investigate “what am I really saying”. 
Jules is really amazing because she’s worked with a variety of artists independently and through her role at Soho Theatre (so she really knows her stuff). Alongside of Jules, I work with my core team Director Jade Lewis (Creative Associate at The Gate) and Producer Gemma Lloyd – who always find innovative ways in approaching the production, be it working with an amazing PR agent (wink wink) Mobius, or collaborating with a talented sound/visual designer Luay Eljamal. 
All of these people are key ingredients into making a show, as our collective skills help us to create a show which we are all fully invested in and proud of. I always say to everyone I work with, lets make “our” show exciting for an audience, because it is just as much my show as it is there’s.
Does the show fit with your usual productions?
Quarter Life Crisis is my second show, which is kind of like giving birth to a baby- and like every baby they are so different but just as special. Audiences who saw my first show On The Edge of Me, then managed to nab a ticket for our sold out previews of Quarter Life Crisis, say that the shows definitely feel like they are from the same family- but Quarter Life Crisis is way more epic. I think when they say epic, it means the show has a stronger production value as it has projection, set, original music (which makes you want to party) and way more costume changes than On The Edge Of Me. 
I wrote On The Edge of Me almost 2 years ago, and I have changed as a person. I have been fortunate enough to have had more time to invest in my craft by seeing more shows in the UK/international, collaborate with diverse plethora of artists (visual designers, set designers, sound designers etc) and attend CPD workshops which have helped me to grow as an artist. I feel that Quarter Life Crisis is stronger production, as I have endured the labour pains of giving birth to my first child On The Edge Of Me- so I am better prepared….I think….
What do you hope that the audience will experience?
Good question. Well this show really takes you on a journey (without giving too much away). A journey which I have been told is very relatable, but the aspect that people say that really grabs them is the heritage part. In the show, we really get into my culture more….. 
I am Nigerian. So audiences get to experience a bit of my culture, by hearing my tribes language “Yoruba” on stage, learn a bit of my country’s history and also some music (with a slight London twist). I think by mixing the relatable aspect with my heritage, it’s made audiences feel curious about their heritage. 
Discover who they are. Celebrate what makes them unique and questions western societies notion of  “growing up” in 2017.
What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?
I studied. I studied real hard. I was inspired by 3 people when thinking about creating this show Lusia Omielan, Lady Gaga and Tyler Oakley. They are all from very different mediums. But what they all have in common is their relationship to an audience. 
They truly believe in their messages and find ways to make it appeal to their audience. For example I was lucky enough to see Lady Gaga in concert a few years ago. From start to finish I felt I was taken on a journey which made me laugh, cry and then dance (like ive never danced before). Lady Gaga gave everything she could to us, so much so that she even fell over in the show- but in true Lady Gaga amazingness she got back up and continued the dance routine. 
I remember standing their frozen and thinking “I want to do that” (falling over and all). I wanted to make a show which had a strong message/theme and took an audience on a journey. I wasn't sure how to do this, so I studied Lusia Omielan’s What Would Beyonce Do?,  Tyler Oakley’s Slumber Party and all things Lady Gaga- and made my own response to this. 
I then tested this response (aka) Quarter Life Crisis at various scratch nights such as Brainchild’s Hatch and in previews in front of a sold out audience at OvalHouse, which has shaped how I deliver the show. I know that doing the show at Edinburgh Fringe it will also mould/change depending on the audience. 
Yolanda Mercy said, “‘It got to a point in my life where my friend was having a baby and my biggest concern was trying to keep my young person’s railcard. The more I looked around me it seemed that everyone was ‘adulting’; getting a mortgage, planning weddings and leaving big tips at restaurants. Feeling like Peter Pan and watching everyone leave Neverland, I turned to my laptop and started writing Quarter Life Crisis.” Yolanda Mercy is a London-based actor and playwright who works around the globe. She trained at the Brit School, Laban and Royal Central School of Speech and Drama. Her work is a springboard to discuss personal and social issues including mental health, unemployment and heritage. She is a winner of the Rich Mix Small Story Big City Award, Associate Artist at OvalHouse Theatre and was previously Resident at The Roundhouse and the Almeida Theatre. She has been partnered with and commissioned by: The British Council, Arts Council England, O2 Think Big, Soho Theatre, Rich Mix, Wandsworth Council, Talawa, Lyric Hammersmith, SE1 United, OvalHouse Theatre, Tamasha, The Migration Museum, Arc Stockton, Ideas Tap and Peggy Ramsey Foundation. Quarter Life Crisis will tour after the run at Edinburgh Fringe, with dates at Attenborough Arts Centre, Cheltenham Everyman, Arena Theatre Wolverhampton, Churchill Theatre Bromley and The Albany London confirmed for October and November 2017, with more dates to be added.
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