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dialovers-translations · 3 years ago

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DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD Vol.01 Sakamaki Ayato [TRACK 9+10]

Original title: 痛みの中で & 極限の吸愛 (デスエクスタシー)

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 1: Sakamaki Ayato [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru

Translator’s note:

Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10

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TRACK 9: AMIDST THE PAIN

*Rustle*

“Come on...Open your eyes. Keep them only on me, ‘kay?”

Ayato continues to kiss you passionately.

“Mmh...Nn…”

*Smooch*

“I won’t make it hurt...It’ll only feel good…”

You frown.

[00:31] “Aah…? You’re scared regardless? Hahaha. It’ll be over before you know it once the pleasure kicks in.”

You continue to protest.

“What if you won’t be able to walk anymore, you ask? Good question...Then, I’ll just carry you ‘round instead, Chichinashi. Mmh...Nn…”

*Smooch*

*Rustle rustle*

[01:06] “...Ah. Hah...Fuck...This is startin’ to get seriously dangerous...I’m havin’ a hard time findin’ the strength to twist off your leg as well...Damn...Whatever...I’ll just suck from whichever spot I can reach…Haah...Right. Hahaha...This place might not be half bad…”

*Rustle rustle*

“I haven’t bitten you here yet, have I? ーー Your heart. I’ll give you my fangs here.”

*Cling cling*

*Sluuuuurp*

“I’m sure it’ll be scrumptious…”

You seem skeptical.

[01:57] “Aah? You wanna know if I can even plunge my fangs inside your heart? Fool! I’m gonna thrust them in really deep. Fortunately, I should just barely be able to reach it even with these chains holdin’ me back. If it turns out to be impossible, there’s still the option of twistin’ off your leg regardless. However, I don’t think that’d be enough to calm my anger, so I’ll chop off your hands as well.”

Your eyes widen in fear.

“Hahaha…”

You beg for his mercy.

[02:35] “What? Don’t start cryin’ already when I haven’t even done anythin’ yet. It’s hella annoyin’...I’m sure it’ll feel amazin’ when I suck from your heart. I’m sure you’re happy as well. Not only do you get to experience pleasure, but you’re given a chance to offer something precious to the man you love. You might just rank up from bein’ just prey.”

*Rustle rustle*

[03:06] “Hahaha...You’re shiverin’? Don’t worry. You won’t die even if I suck blood from your heart. Well, it’s fine if you’re scared. Just scoot a lil’ closer. I’ll hold you in my arms. Not that you’re particularly soft or cozy to the touch.”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Here I come. Just entrust everythin’ to me. Relax, and accept my fangs.”

*Rustle*

[03:44] “Exactly...Just like that...I’m goin’ straight for the heart.”

Ayato latches down.

“Hahn...Nn...Hah…Keep still!”

*Cling*

“Succumb to me...and don’t resist!”

*Sluuuurp*

“Mmh...Nn…”

*Gulp*

[04:18] “Hah...Haah, haah...This is bad...What’s with this taste? ...Fuck! Hahn…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Haah, hahn...Mmh…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Hahn...Nn...Nnh…”

*Gulp*

[04:46] “Mmh…Haah, haah...Dammit...At this rate...I might just tear apart your heart with my fangs...But still...I can’t stop…”

*Rustle*

“Hahn−!”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah…! Chichinashi...You don’t mind, do you?”

You tell him it feels good.

“Hahaha...Exactly. It’s amazin’ for me too…I also feel as if I’m ‘bout to melt...Hahn...Mmh…”

*Gulp*

[05:34] “...Haah? Harder? Hahaha! You damn nympho! Don’t come cryin’ to me afterwards if you lose your mind for real. Hahn…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Hahn...Mmh…”

*Rustle rustle*

“Hahー! Mmh...Nn…”

*Gulp*

[06:08] “...Shit...My stomach’s on fire...I don’t know how to describe this sensation as it coats my tongue...Haah…”

*Rustle*

“The one thing I can say is that your blood really is the best...and somethin’ very special to me. Haah, haah...Exactly...Give me more...More!!”

He continues drinking your blood.

“Hahn…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Mmh...Nn...Hah...Hahn…”

*Gulp*

“Hah…!”

*Rustle*

[07:04] “Oi! Don’t go faintin’ on me now! We have to get rid of these chains to escape this place. It might hurt, but you can push through it, right? ...I’ll give you another intense one. I’ll thrust my fangs all the way in at once, so you won’t be able to feel anythin’ but pure bliss. Okay?”

You nod.

[07:35] “Here it comes...I’ll pierce you even deeper…”

*Rustle*

“Ughーー!!”

Ayato bites you aggressively.

*Gulp gulp*

[07:55] “Hahn...Nn...Don’t thrash ‘bout…! It makes it difficult to suck! Hahn…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Hahn...Nn...Mmh…”

*Gulp*

“Nnh…”

*Gulp*

[08:12] “Hah...Don’t worry...We’re almost there...Just focus on feelin’ my fangs…! Hahn...Mmh…”

*Gulp*

“Hah...Mmh...Haah…”

*Gulp*

“Nn...Nnh...Hahー! Hahn...Haah…”

*CLING*

TRACK 10: THE ULTIMATE BLOODY LOVE (1) ( DEATH ECSTASY)

“Haah, haah...Ugh…”

*Cling cling*

“With this...We’ve finally been freed from these vexin’ chains, huh? Hahaha…”

*Smack smack*

“Oi, Chichinashi. You still alive?”

You whimper.

[00:20] “Hahaha...Guess you no longer feel the pain. Seems like the pleasure was just too intense, you can’t even respond. Oi, Chichinashi. Look this way.”

*Rustle*

“Your face’s a mess.”

You ask him about the chains.

“Haah…? The chains? They came off. It didn’t hurt, did it? Even though realistically speakin’, the pain should have been almost unbearable. Hahaha…”

*Cling*

[00:54] “Ah, speakin’ of which...Reiji did mention once that people lose their ability to experience pain when pushed to their utmost limit. However, I guess the same can’t be said ‘bout pleasure, huh? Humans are seriously fascinatin’...Actually, this might not be a human thing...Chichinashi, you’re the only one who is like this. You’re such a funny chick…

[01:26] Anyway...You’re covered in blood, huh? Well, guess that’s to be expected. You’ve lost all strength in your body as well. Still, while I don’t feel as worked up as before, I’m still thirsty. The fun has only just begun...Thanks to those guys, we’ve got plenty of time on our hands as well.”

*Cling cling*

[01:56] “Hehehe...Guess I should be grateful to them for that at least. ...Say, Chichinashi. We’re in no rush, are we? For starters...It’d be a shame to let this blood gushin’ out go to waste, so I’ll drink it all up.”

*Rustle*

“The heavy scent of your blood…is nearly makin’ me choke… I can’t get enough of it…Haah...It’s makin’ my head spin…”

*Rustle rustle*

[02:31] “Haah...I can’t...The smell is too strong...It seems like it’s meltin’ my brain...Haah...I can’t...think...straight anymore…”

*SPLATTER*

“Fuck...My body’s goin’ numb...Chichinashi...Show me your leg...Haah, haah…”

*Rustle*

[03:10] “Hahaha...Ahahaha! I’m sure this must be quite the horrifying sight from an outsider’s perspective. A blood-covered human female and a Vampire, entertwined in each other’s embrace while bathing in a pool of even more blood...Mmh…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Mm...Nn…”

*Sluuuurp*

[03:46] “Hah...It’s fulfillin’...How do you feel, Chichinashi? I bet you’re happy? I’m covered in your blood from head to toe.”

You fail to reply, merely whimpering in response.

“I guess you’re too happy, you’re at a loss for words? Hahaha...Guess I can’t blame you. I’m sure you’re strugglin’ to even breathe after losin’ so much blood. ...Ah, from the wound...What a waste.”

*Sluuuurp*

[04:29] “I can’t let it go to waste...Mmh…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Nn...Nnh…”

*Rustle*

“Just lappin’ it up with my tongue doesn’t do the trick. I’m sure you feel the same? You want to feel my fangs even more, don’t you?”

*Rustle rustle*

[05:00] “Oi, Chichinashi. Gimme some sort of reaction. ...Did you faint? Come on!”

*Smack smack*

“Fuck…! Guess it can’t be helped. I guess this might wake her up…?”

Ayato bites you.

“Hahn...Mmh…”

*Gulp*

[05:26] “Haah...No use, huh? Did she lose too much blood after all? Hahaha...But I still haven’t had enough. I’m beyond parched...Mm…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Mmh...Nn…”

*Rustle*

“Hahn...Mmh…”

*Gulp*

[05:59] “Hahー! ...Even if I were to suck you dry, I’d become thirsty again soon after. Hahn...Mmh…”

*Gulp*

*Sluuuurp*

“Mmh...Nn…”

*Rustle*

[06:22] “Hah...You finally gave some sort of reaction, huh?”

You mutter something.

“...Aah? What didya say? Speak a lil’ louder!”

*Rustle*

“Fuck...What a pain…”

He leans in close.

“What’s wrong? What did you say?”

You repeat yourself.

[06:49] “Haah…? You want me to kiss you? ...Haah, fine. Didn’t I tell you earlier? I’ll kiss you as many times as you want. Although as you can see, you’ll end up covered in blood as well as a result.”

*Cling cling*

[07:11] “Haah, haah...Well...I guess you don’t give a damn ‘bout that right now. Now that we’ve walked right into their trap, we can’t turn back time, no matter how much we struggle. In that case, we might as well…”

*Rustle*

“Go as far as we can, pushin’ ourselves to the very limit.”

He kisses you.

[07:47] “Hah...Nn...Chichinashi...Stick out your tongue...Yearn for me...Just like I do for you. Mmh...Mm…”

*Smooch*

“Now that we’ve come this far...You can no longer escape me, Chichinashi...Mm…”

*Smooch*

“You can’t even get out of here without me. ...Right. Should I just tear off your arms as well? Hahaha...Mmh…”

*Smooch*

[08:48] “...Seems like you’re quite into this as well, huh? Yeah...Just like that...Crave me...More and more…! Let’s show those guys exactly what kind of relationship we have...You are my prey. Forever. A special one too at that. Right? ...Come on, lemme suck more. That’s the only way we can enjoy ourselves down here. Besides, I’m still thirsty...Hahn…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Mm...Nnh…”

*Rustle*

[09:41] “So sweet...Haah...More…! I need more…! Hahn...Mmh…”

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp*

“Hah...Nn…”

*Rustle*

[10:00] “I won’t let anyone else have you. Understood? Exactly. Even if you were to die right now, you’d still belong to me. Mmh...Nn…”

*Gulp*

“Nnh...Nn…”

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) 吸愛 which is pronounced ‘Kyuu-ai’ is a word often used within the DL franchise, which actually doesn’t exist in the Japanese language. It’s a combination of the characters for ‘to suck (blood)’ and ‘love’. It’s meant to refer to sucking one’s blood as a metaphor for showing your love for someone. I’ve always translated it as ‘bloody love’ myself in the past, so I will again for the sake of consistency.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers more blood #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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unexceptional-broken · 4 years ago

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( @moltolavoro ) « starter call for peter parker stuff

"OKAY, OKAY. YOU with the blue and red suit? The one where most’a your arm is currently way more red than blue and a lot less suit? Yeah, you look like you went through a meat grinder, get over here, I’m startin’ with you.”

Her brother had poured half of the country’s masked heroes into her small apartment, something about the newest threat to the universe as they knew it, but while they were under her roof, she’d make sure they weren’t bleeding on the floor. She had a deposit to keep, after all.

“You can keep your mask on if you wanna, but we’re gonna get that arm cleaned up, okay?”

#moltolavoro #ii. ( verse ) — i have become myself #ii. ( arc ) — nurse's hands #ii. ( arc ) — with moltolavoro

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talesfromlissom · 5 years ago

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Glory Of The Moon [Part II]

Summary: As the recall has been issued, new recruits start to flood into overwatch due to recommendations, from old and new allies. However, the newest recruit seems to have an interest in Hanzo, much to Jesse’s dislike.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

“I…(Y/N)...”

“Jess’?”

Silence.

“I..I’m sorry.” (Y/N) began. “I...I’ve been an asshole, I...It’s alright if you don’t forgive me for a while.”

“No no, darlin’, I’d never do that to you,.” Jesse began. “and...I should probably try to get along with Dallas, even if I don’t like ‘em one bit.”

(Y/N) shook their head, cracking a small smile.

“Wanna hug?”

“...yeah.”

“Alright, c’mere you big baby.”

“Hold up now-”

Jesse had said before practically falling into (Y/N)’s embrace.

They planted a kiss on his forehead after brushing his bangs back.

“You...think we should go get Hanzo?”

“Mh, yeah.”

As (Y/N) and Jesse broke apart, (Y/N) came to the door.

“Where do you think he could be?” They asked.

“Ima guess he’s in that little ‘ol garden that Genji and Zenyatta built, he won’t ever admit it, but I think it's his favorite place to meditate.”

“Heh, I don’t see why not.” (Y/N) began as the door slid open. “That place is beautiful.”

──•~❉+❉~•──

As the two entered the zen garden, Jesse gaped.

“Wow, Genji and Zenyatta sure pay attention to details…” Jesse muttered.

However, a hand was placed on his chest.

(Y/N)’s hand.

“Why do I smell eastern wolves?” (Y/N) asked.

Jesse’s eyes widened as he stepped past them.

“Actually, yeah..but...Dallas isn’t a eastern, he’s a west-”

Jesse paused, seeing the water bottle on the floor.

He sniffed at it, and reared his head back.

“Why in god's name is there knock-out drugs in this thing? Ain’t this water?” Jesse then gasped as he turned the bottle.

“Shit! These are Dallas’ goddamn initials!”

“What! Jesse don’t start this again-”

“No, look! D.F.S. Dallas whatever his middle name is Starmonger! See? I told you!”

(Y/N) snatched the bottle from Jesse’s hand and examined it.

“Crap, this is Dallas’ bottle!” (Y/N) cried.

“See? I told you!”

“Shut up, Jesse, Hanzo could be seriously hurt!”

“Sorry but-how are we gonna find him, we’re gonna change any minute now!” A pause. “God, I’m already startin’ to ache!”

“Listen to me, Jesse,” (Y/N) said, placing their hands on his shoulder. “We have to find Hanzo, werewolf form or not. I can hold off my form long enough to save him, but only if you can transform, cooperate and track him down. I’ll follow you. Alright?”

“A-alright.”

“I’ll grab your serape so in case you find Hanzo first he doesn’t freak out, alright? I’ll be right back.”

(Y/N) practically darted out of the room and locked the doors to the Zen garden, only to bump into Bridgette along the way.

“(Y/N)? Why-”

“Bridgette warn Winston! Dallas has taken Hanzo captive and I think he plans to hurt him, please tell him that Mcree and I are the only people that can be close to Dallas, but to arrange a backup team in case me and Mcree attack anyone, got it?”

“You got it! Should I tell Dr.Ziegler as well!”

“Yes! Now, go, go!”

──•~❉+❉~•──

His vision was less blurry as he came to consciousness again.

He blinked rapidly, and finally came to full vision.

That’s when he gasped.

He was not in the garden, he was sure he wasn’t even in Gibraltar.

“Heya boss, he’s wakin’ up.”

Hanzo shook his head.

He attempted to stand, only to find that his hands had been chained to a pole driven into the ground.

He could easily break out of these, he called upon his-

“Looking for these?”

Hanzo looked upwards, only to spy his dragons in two square cages.

Kenji, always the more energetic and determined of the bunch, was bashing her head against the walls.

Tomo, less energetic, but still ever loyal, was biting at the cages bars.

“How did you-”

“They came out of your tattoo of course,” Dallas chuckled, as he came into full view. “While I was putting those chains on you, they tried to protect you, but since you did not call upon them, they were weak, so we easily put them in these...dragon proof cages.”

Hanzo narrowed his gaze.

“What do you want with me?”

“Well for starters, I want you in general.”

Hanzo scoffed.

“Why?”

“You're smart, think Hanzo, what has your precious (Y/N) told you about Alpha werewolves?”

Hanzo narrowed his gaze even further.

“They wish to expand their packs, and they are the only ones capable of passing on the lycin curse.”

“Very good, so you do listen to (Y/N),” Dallas then pouted. “But you didn’t listen to poor Jesse, oh no.”

There was a deep chuckle that came from Dallas, as well as more chuckling from his other pack members.

Hanzo took this chance to look around the room.

Around him stood all sorts of people.

People with scars, people in wheelchairs, some children as young as ten years old.

Men, women, people young and old.

“You see, my pack is more on the diverse side,” Dallas preached. “I don’t just bite anyone.”

Hanzo watched as Dallas made his ways down the steps.

“I find people with powerful minds, not just brute force,” He began, as he made his way towards him, the other pack members stepped out of the way. “People that have been hurt, cast out, told they were nothing. Well,I made them something.”

Dallas grinned.

“That’s why I knew that I had to make you a member of my pack. But those other pathetic excuses for werewolves were almost always around you.”

“You dare too-”

“Ah ah ah,” Dallas began, putting his hand over Hanzo’s mouth. “Let me finish, fledgling.”

Hanzo resisted the urge to spit in Dallas’ face.

“So I found things out, I knew automatically (Y/N) was an alpha, and if they caught even a wind of me wanting to hurt you, then I’d be dead meat.” A pause. “So I turned to the beta instead. I knew that if I made your cute little Jesse dislike me, it would travel back to (Y/N), and they would fight.”

He removed his hand from Hanzo’s mouth.

“I played all my cards right, and soon you were right where I wanted you,” Dallas chuckled. “I was surprised that you even believed half of the shit I said, and took a drink from me.”

Hanzo growled.

“You won’t gain anything from this.” Hanzo snapped. “Absolutely nothing.”

“I have lots to gain from this, Hanzo.” Dallas replied. “Lots. I mean, a Shimada under my command. The infamous Doom fist would cower before me.”

“(Y/N) and Jesse will come for me, and put an end to your sickening games.” Hanzo said, struggling against his bonds.

“Oh please, will they?” Dallas stated. “By the time they figure out where you are, they’ll already have turned.” Dallas then chuckled, sending a chill down Hanzo’s back. “And if I play my cards right, you will be as well.”

“You think that I’d ever join you? Pathetic.”

Dallas rolled his eyes.

“Oh Hanzo,” Dallas jeered, grasping Hanzo’s chin and pulling him close. “I never said I was giving you a choice.”

──•~❉+❉~•──

“Can someone tell me why it sounds like there’s a dog panting into your communicator?” Angela’s voice asked.

(Y/N) scoffed.

“Don’t call Jess’ a dog, that’s rude.”

(Y/N) managed to say before they turned back to the (panting) and now transformed Jesse.

The thing about Jesse was that, unlike (Y/N), who turned into a Crinos werewolf type, like most alphas, Jesse was a hispo type.

The problem was, the stronger the werewolf type, the less human you were.

Making (Y/N) the worst possible person to go on this rescue mission.

But (Y/N) was the only person powerful enough to take down Dallas.

And man, when (Y/N) saw him, they were going to beat the crap out of him.

The two came to a halt as Jesse sniffed at the ground, and let out a large howl.

In which, (Y/N) grabbed his muzzle.

“Quiet! They’ll hear us!” They hissed as Jesse whined and pulled his head away.

(Y/N) turned, and spotted an old, clearly abandoned factory.

“Angela, I think we found them,” (Y/N) said. “It's at an old factory. Just north of the city.”

“Alright, I’ll tell Winston to send a drop ship-”

“No. You have to send a small team for backup, make sure they all have silver bullets, or they won’t harm anyone in this pack. And only send them in when I tell you too.”

“But (Y/N)-”

“Please Angela, Hanzo’s...normal...life is at stake here.”

Silence.

“Alright...I trust you.”

“Thank you, Agent (Y/N) signing off.

With that, (Y/N) turned off their communicator.

“You think you can get close enough without anyone noticing?”

“Maybe.” Jesse replied, his voice coming out distorted.

Jesse didn’t speak much while in his werewolf form, mainly because of how his vocal cords were for wolves, not for humans.

(Y/N) watched as Jesse crept down the hill and onto the broken road and towards the factory.

(Y/N) went to the ground, looking through the broken windows.

Strangely enough, there were no guards, and yet, there was plenty of cars.

They must’ve used the cars to mask their scents.

(Y/N) scoffed.

This Dallas guy was a foolish alpha, probably new to it, (Y/N) figured as they slid down the hill.

Crouched low to the ground, (Y/N) met up with Jesse and nodded at them, the sign of it being all clear.

Slowly the two came to the back door and pushed it open, with a creak.

(Y/N) tensed.

“Hopefully, nobody heard that.” They muttered to Jesse as the two walked down the hall.

Eventually, they both came to the actual factory section of the place.

It seemed that this factory hadn’t been used for years.

The perfect hideout, (Y/N) would’ve said, if they hadn’t spotted two guards at a door near the end of the hall.

However, the two guards then paused, and walked off.

The two steadily crept towards the door, and slowly pushed it open.

(Y/N)’s mouth dropped.

“I’ve...I’ve never seen so many werewolves before.” They muttered as Jesse let out a whine.

“Don’t worry, I can take them.” (Y/N) responded as they and Jesse crept behind a stack of barrels.

(Y/N) slowly peaked their head above the barrels.

“There he is.” (Y/N) muttered, as they saw Hanzo in the middle of the mix. “But how are we gonna get to him?”

“The full moon won’t be covered by the clouds much longer.” Dallas began, peaking (Y/N)’s interest. “And soon, you’ll be one of us.”

(Y/N) almost growled and leap directly into the fray, but they kept their composure, for now.

“He wants to turn Hanzo.” Jesse muttered.

“Yeah, that’s why we need to get him out of there, fast.”

(Y/N) rolled over to the other set of crates, closer to-wait a second.

(Y/N) looked up, hearing a chirping noise.

They had to cover your mouth to keep from gasping.

(Y/N) spotted Kenji and Tomo in cages, hung on the ceiling.

“Jesse, how did he-”

“However, we don’t want to interrupt the main event, do we?”

Dallas grinned before snapping his fingers.

With that, the werewolves in the room scattered, filling out the room.

Soon, silence.

“I can smell you (Y/N), and Jesse’s scent is even stronger when he’s in his werewolf form.”

(Y/N) scoffed before coming out behind the barrels.

“Let him go Dallas, and I won’t hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Dallas smiled, putting his hand in his pocket. “You wouldn’t dare.”

(Y/N) widened their stance, and balled their hands into fists.

“Try me.”

“Oh, well, I guess I’ll have to use this little guy.” With that, Dallas pulled the purple flower from his pocket holding it into the air.

With that, (Y/N) could see the sweat forming on Dallas’ face.

“S-see? Now we’re both in trouble.” Dallas mustered out stepping towards them.

(Y/N) only had caught a small whiff of that flower before sweat formed on your brow as well.

“Where-where did you...get...wolfs bane…?” (Y/N) panted, falling to their knees.

They watched as Dallas managed to laugh at them, before falling onto his hands and knees as well.

“I’ve..got...friends…”

Jesse looked up into the sky, and there it was, the full moon shining directly into the room.

“J-Jesse...get...get Hanzo out of here…” (Y/N) said, starting to breathe heavily. “Please…”

“But-”

“Now-!” (Y/N) growled, and yet their voice was so much deeper.

Jesse ran over to Hanzo, pulling at the chains with his teeth and claws.

“Jesse? Is that you?” Hanzo asked.

Jesse paused for a moment, then simply nodded his head.

“Jesse, where are the others? Are they safe?”

Another pause.

“Yes.” Jesse said, as the chains fell to the floor.

“Hurry.” Jesse stated, as he pushed Hanzo out of the room.

However, two howls filled the room and the two men froze on the spot.

They recognized one, sure, but the other?

Soon, multiple howls filled the air, too many for comfort.

“Go! They have a backup team waiting for us!” Jesse mustered out as the two rushed out the door.

However, the two were met by wolves of all shapes and sizes in their way.

“Right!”

Jesse and Hanzo sprinted down the hall to the right, the large group of werewolves on their tail.

──•~❉+❉~•──

(Y/N) looked at them self in the small puddle on the floor.

(Y/N) hadn’t seen their reflection in a while.

They were still a large 7ft, Crinos werewolf.

Their fur was still the same color as their hair.

The necklaces Jesse and Hanzo gave them was still around their neck.

(Y/N)’s eyes were now a beady purple.

A growl filled their ears, as they turned to Dallas.

He was just like you, bright purple eyes, 7ft, except brown fur.

However, Dallas’ claws were much larger than yours.

But that made up for (Y/N)’s strength and strong bite.

Before (Y/N) even had time to think, Dallas tackled them to the ground, and (Y/N) knew that if Dallas managed to defeat them, not only would he turn Hanzo into a werewolf.

But he’d become the alpha of (Y/N)’s pack as well, which meant he’d keep Jesse and Hanzo away from you.

So, with that thought in mind, (Y/N) brought forth all their power to defeat this traitor.

──•~❉+❉~•──

“How long will it take for these things to catch up to us, Jesse?”

A grunt was heard from Jesse, who ran alongside Hanzo.

“Oh right, you’re a wolf, you can’t talk-”

“I can talk!” Jesse replied. “And for the record-”

“Door-!”

Jesse slammed face first into the door, letting out a yelp.

Hanzo grabbed Jesse by the serape and pulled him through the doorway.

“How long are these hallways!” Jesse cried, still rubbing at his nose.

“In here! Quickly!”

With that, the two dove into the small storage room and behind the boxes.

There was silence at first, however, the scratching of claws on the floor filled their ears, as well as the soon clicking of said claws on the tile floor.

“Jesse,” Hanzo hissed. “What do we do?”

Jesse shook his head.

“Jesse?”

Again, more shaking and growling from Jesse.

“Jesse-”

That’s when Jesse began to howl.

Soon, bone cracking and more howling and growling was filling Hanzo’s ears.

He heard the werewolves beginning to gather at the door, based on the amount of claws tapping on the tiles.

“Jesse, Jesse stop-! Jesse your drawing, attention too-! Jess-!”

That’s when the howling turned more humane sounding, and as Hanzo watched as the great beast before him shrunk down to a shivering, sweaty, and naked man.

Gasps and sputters came from Jesse as Hanzo slowly reached a hand out.

“Is it...morning already?” Hanzo asked.

Jesse coughed.

“Ngh...no…” Jesse began. “If...If you call out a were...werewolves name...they...turn back into a...human.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened.

“A...naked human I presume?”

“Yes, a butt-naked human.” Jesse paused. “God, I...I can’t transform...fuck...we’re screwed. We are so screwed.”

He said, as the werewolves carefully approached the boxes the two men were hiding behind.

#overwatch x reader #hanzo x reader #mcree x reader #mchanzo x reader #werewolf reader #werewolf mcree #werewolf s/o #glory of the moon series

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: Wally Franks, but he's a wizard.

One wizard Wally coming right up!

It was a miracle how the Janitor kept the studio clean.

Even when it was just a tiny shack of a building, it was a busy tiny shack of a building that had ink and papers constantly spilling everywhere; crumpled up balls of paper that would miss the trashcans, broken bottles of ink, and god knows what else because people are messy. But it was manageable and easily cleaned. After all, if Wally 'slacks off until the last possible second every single day in that dumb hat of his' Franks managed to keep the place spotless, it couldn't be that hard.

Anyone in the studio could recognize Wally without even meeting the man because of that ridiculous hat, but nobody could tell why he wore such a thing as he always changed the story behind it.

"Laugh now, but dese are all the rage ouva in dose hoity-toity upscale cities. I'm gonna mistaken for one of those shmucks and get famous!"

"Oh, dis old thing? Okay, let me set the stage fah ya: Way, way, back in good ol' 1692, my great-great-insert a couple dozen or so more 'greats' in dere grandpa really cheesed off a witch in da woods... *one over the top ridiculous story later* ...and now my entire bloodline is cursed to weah stupid hats."

"I Might've lost da first bet, but ya should've seen da getup the outha guy's stuck with!"

"Da best way ta keep a clown from sneakin' up an killin' ya is ta trick 'em into thinkin' you're one of them."

"All my outha hats got covered in ink."

"Didn't ya see dat Mickey Mouse short in da 'Fantasia' thang Disney put out? Obviously I wear dis stupid hat 'cause gives me magical powers."

"Isn't 'Steamboat Willie' they only animation that Disney made?"

"Aw shoot- I mean, I must've been thinkin' about something else then."

Often after answering he'd laugh and nonchalantly change the subject. Nobody really thought anything of it, the Janitor was the biggest chatterbox in the studio and always had a bunch of different subjects on his mind.

The day after Henry left, the studio expanded.

More rooms to fill with art, more people to fill the void of the lost creator, more ink to fuel it all. In fact, it didn’t stop there, why should it? Joey more musicians and started hiring voice actors to make future cartoons even better than the old ones, to prove to himself that he didn't need Henry to make their creation successful. Yet in spite of this rapid growth, the cleaning staff still only had one member; a single janitor and his stupid, colorful, pointy hat.

Joey didn’t even bother trying to hire anyone else for the studio’s cleaning staff. Even when animators and musicians got concerned for Wally about being the only janitor at such a big studio, Joey always said that he could never find anyone as ‘talented’ as Wally for the job. And to the Director’s credit, he was correct. No matter how large the studio grew, no matter how often the janitor slacked off, and no matter how bad the messes got, the studio would always be completely and perfectly spotless when the workers arrived in the morning. While Wally did complain to high heaven about having to clean up after everybody and often repeated what was essentially now his catchphrase, he never seemed to be exhausted from the job itself. If anything, he seemed to be overall more well rested than the other staff.

However, almost no one paid mind to this, after all, they work to do and had deadlines to meet, no time to spend wondering about the Janitor's uncanny ability to stay on top of his workload, they just were used to it and accepted it as one of the studio workers’ natural mysteries. Like how the building felt like it was changing itself sometimes, or how the projectionist seemed to be anywhere and or everywhere, or how the music director seemed to be a seer who made bitter, sarcastic, and or dry humored remarks that would often turn into accurate predictions of the future, or how Joey always seemed to know where everyone in the studio was. (Okay, that last one might’ve just been that he had the building wiretapped and there was nothing supernatural about that.)

Thankfully for Wally Franks, there was only one person who really took the time to sit down and question how he managed to get all several stories of the now almost constantly inked studio completely spotless was the man who had piled on a couple extra chores with his and his machine's arrival.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“So I’m cleaning da studio late at night an' I almost forgot dat Mistah Conner started doing late night shifts an' he almost caught me in full swing, I had brooms and mops out flyin' everywhere an' he almost saw everythang! Luckily, his footsteps are pretty heavy so it was easy ta know when he was coming but man dat was close! And I'm startin' ta think he's caught on to da fact dat there's something fishy goin' on down 'ere an' I bet I was really something suspicious back 'dere. 'Dis is the first time since dat incident he let me outta his sight while on da clock. What do ya think Sam? Last straw? Should I really get outta here before it gets worse? How'd my futuah look eitheah way?"

The music director sighed in annoyance before answering the janitor.

"For the last goddamned time, I CAN'T really see the future, Franks! That's just a dumb running joke between the studio."

"But you definitely can! And wit' accuracy too! remembah when ya told me ta not eat dat sandwich in the fridge or else I'd get punched even though it was MY Sandwich and afta I shrugged ya off, Jerry went an' clocked me in da jaw? You saw the freakin' futuah! You saw that I'd get punched and ya tried ta warn me!"

"Or, I saw the fact you have a long history of eating other people's food, had my back turned to you at the moment, and thought you were eating Jerry's sandwich. Jerry probably also thought you were eating his sandwich because you two brought in the exact same lunch!"

The musician stood up from his seat to refill his coffee mug, but before he could, the janitor dropped down on his knees in front of him and gave him his best 'puppy dog eyes'.

"C'mon Sammy! Please tell me what I should do! I don't wanna end up stuck in jail or dead from this! I have a girlfriend and a kid!"

The unwilling prophet pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought of something to tell the "wizard" to get him off his back.

"My best advice to you is to tell Conner about your secret in a secluded area, preferably a night shift you both work. If he doesn't believe you, demonstrate a simple yet flashy spell. And then wait for his reaction. If you get the feeling he's going to tell the world, tell him that if he tells anyone else, you will curse him and his entire bloodline."

"Wait, really? I mean, I don't plan on ignorin' ya but is dat really the best caurse of action?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Well fer starters, cursing an entirah bloodline ain't somethin' you should take lightly! Even if it's something small, just, an' kinda silly like; 'Every time ya yell at someone for somethin' they didn't do, yer voice turns all high pitched and squeaky'. Ya could end up ruinin' someone's life! What if Tom's great-great grandson or whateva decided ta become a lawyeah and while defendin' his client, his voice got all squeaky. He'd be da laughin' stock of da legal system an' I'd be ta blame!"

"Okay, fine. Then just curse Conner specifically if he tries to ruin your life."

"But I don't even use magic on livin' things! What if I screw up an' accidentally turn him inta some kinda squeaky toy? Besides, is dere any otha way than just, revealing my secret dat I kept for my entirah life ta some guy who came in here an' started bossin' me around?"

Sammy rolled his eyes in annoyance. An action that registered to Wally as 'Why do these people keep asking me for help with the future if they keep fighting against me over the advice I give?' While Sammy knew his action meant 'Why am I constantly being bothered by my coworkers over their dumb running jokes pretending that magic is real?'

"Well, you told me, didn't you?"

"I mean, yeah, but dat's different! We're both, you know, and he's... well, not! I know you won't out me, but he might, even unda da threat of cursing!"

The two stood in silence for a bit before Sammy tried to leave again and Wally blocked his way.

"Just in case, do ya have any otha predictions?"

"I predict that if you stand between me and the coffee machine for any longer, you will suffer a terrible fate by my hands."

"Okay, okay! jeeze..."

And as the musician left for the break room, Wally silently dreaded the next time he and Tom would work a night shift together. Hopefully the studio's constantly irritated oracle was right about this being the best course of action.

#bendy and the ink machine #wally franks #sammy lawrence #batim au #fanfic #request

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bossman-hazani · 5 years ago

Text

Gangstars episode 1

Hey so this is my first time using this website. I’m moderately new to it but I thought that this might be a good place to post the scripts for an animated comedy series I wish to one day start. I decided that since I have no idea on how and what the hell to do in order to get it noticed by a producer, I thought a good place to start was to post the scripts online and see if I could build a community on it and see what will come from it. I mean, worst case scenario is that literally nothing will happen and it’ll go completely unnoticed so here it is. Please feel free to give any feedback in whatever way is possible on this website lol. The first episode might be a little weak I’m not really sure what to expect from readers but please give it a chance to when I post the second episode before giving up on it. I guess the kind of humour it comes off from is more a Rick and Morty type of thing. And please can nobody be an ass with feedback? I’m still new to this and I don’t really appreciate it. This isn’t really a final product and I’ll probably change the script based on any feedback I get so please try to keep it constructive and helpful. Thanks and enjoy.

Gangstars Episode 1 script

(The camera shows a brick wall in an alleyway with a door. You can hear the muffled voices of the interviewer and his mother)

Interviewer: "!?"

(Door opens)

Mom: "DAMMIT BOY, IF MY SON'S GONNA SMOKE, HE'S GONNA DO IT IN HIS OWN DAMN HOUSE, NOT THE TRASHY APARTMENT HE BOUGHT HIS MOM CAUSE HE DOESN'T LOVE HER"

Interviewer: "alright, alright! I'm going!"

(Interviewer exits door, grabs a cigar, takes out his phone and starts talking to someone on the phone while leaning on a wall)

Interviewer: "Hey, Stu. Look, I need you to do me a favour. Dammit Stu are you drunk again!? Fine, whatever. Just go tell Cindy that I'm gonna be in the office to tomorrow morning - what do you mean what!? Why the fuck do I even pay you!? Dammit Stu! You'd better give results or you're fired! Oh so NOW you remember. Whatever. Now tell Cindy that I'm gonna be in my office in the morning and that she has to go get mike so I can meet him and promote his ass. Heh, yeah, he's gonna be making some big bucks now"

(Interviewer continues talking while smoking, and as this happens, a large arm (Fat Toni) with a burger starts creeping off side of screen and attempts to suffocate him.)

Interviewer: "WHA-!?"

(Interviewer punches Fat Toni in the stomach to which an immune sign appears, slowly rising. As time is running out, Interviewer grabs glass bottle and hits Fat Toni over the head with it.)

Fat Toni: "ah SHIT!"

(FT drops to floor directly onto interviewer's leg and a crack is audible)

Interviewer: "Fuuuck!!"

Fat Toni: "Help me up, guys!"

(Two more figures, Teef and Giuseppe run in to help FT up there is clear strain in doing the process.)

Teef: "Holy shit, Toni you’re so fucking heavy!!"

Giuseppe: (Makes strained sounds)

(Interviewer politely waits through this event)

(When Fat Toni is finally up, he takes a moment to catch his breath)

Fat Toni: "Ok, where were we??"

Interviewer: "Uhhhh I think you were about to proceed with kidnapping me?"

Fat Toni: Ooohhh yeeah... Well... Do you wanna go through with it or has the moment kinda passed?"

Interviewer: "Nah I think I can bring it back."

(Interviewer backs away, into a wall, unable to stand. The shadow of a LARGE man slowly, with help, makes their way up and looms over interviewer)

Interviewer: (In fear) "What are you?"

(Bag goes over interviewer's face and screen goes black)

Fat Toni: (As if talking to a sick child) "Wake up, this is a temporary kidnapping."

(From the perspective of the interviewer, you can see his eyes opening and closing slowly)

Fat Toni: "Wake uuuuppp"

(Interviewer still doesn't wake up)

Fat Toni: (Irritated) "Hey, cmon, wake up already."

Fat Toni: (yelling and at the same time slapping the interviewer) "Wake up!!"

(Interviewer is awake now and looks all around him. He can see a messy room and at the end of it stands a dark figure who is not visible due to a light shining into the interviewer's face)

Fat Toni: "Alright now, talk!!"

(An irritated muffle comes from the interviewer as he makes it clear that he cannot)

Fat Toni: "Oh, right. Sorry about that."

(From the figure comes a hand that reaches to the face of the interviewer and removes some duct tape)

Fat Toni: "Ok NOW talk."

Interviewer: "Somebody help me!!"

Fat Toni: "Naah I was just messing with you, you never had to talk. But what we ARE gonna do is we're give you something to make sure that you can't go to that interview tomorrow."

Interviewer: "huh? But-"

(Toni's hand goes over interviewer's face and the screen goes black for a few seconds.)

(The camera then goes to Mike. He's walking in a suit with a briefcase (office work starter pack) through the Jimmyasssteak building and his fellow employees pass by, engaging in conversation. It's clear that Mike is familiar and comfortable in his status and that EVERYONE knows and loves Mike.)

Employee 1: "Hey, Mike!! Pretty sure your gonna be promoted to CEO!! AND your gonna meet the boss! Even I haven't seen him"

Mike: "Yeah ikr! But it still hasn't been confirmed... Fingers crossed though!!"

Employee 2: "EY, MIKE!! YOU FUCKED MY WIFE!"

Mike: "Yeah I did"

Employee 2: (High fives mike) "Holy shit! That's really an achievement! I still haven't fucked her after 5 years together!! Anyway, have a good one, Mike!"

Mike: "Yeah, you too, Gary."

(Mike goes into a reception and starts waiting. After a sew seconds, a secretary comes up to mike)

Secretary: "Oh, hey Mike, the boss will see you now."

Mike: "Alrighty then, let's go."

(Mike and secretary start walking together through a corridor)

Mike: "So uh you know what the big guy's like? What I should say to him? What he looks like?"

Secretary: "I have no idea. I've never seen or heard him in person. Every day at 11 I escort everyone out of the building and security is turned off so he can enter his office. I guess you could say he likes his privacy."

Mike: "But then how did he tell you he wanted to see me?"

Secretary: "We communicate through ASCII. (but pronounced as ASCI)"

Mike: "So... the Advertising standards council of india??"

Secretary: "No it's with TWO 'I's."

Mike: "Ohh..."

(Camera slowly blacks out then slowly back into colour to show Mike and the Secretary reaching the end of a corridor. The secretary is a blubbering mess while mark is just confused and shocked)

Secretary: "And then I said "what, you don't like me that way?" and then you'll never guess what he said. Go on guess."

Mike: (slowly and confused) "How? This wasn't even a long corridor. It was only 30 seconds ago that we were talking about the boss. How did- Just- how!?"

Secretary: "HE SAID YESSSS!"

Mike: "Well I hate to have to leave you at the peak of the... The conversation but- uhh- we're at the boss so I kinda have to do my interview and all..."

Secretary: (clearly fine now) "Oh, ok!"

(Secretary goes to a computer and types in a legitimate ASCII message. In response, a message that's clearly not ASCII pops up)

Secretary: "Alright, I'm going to have to go while the boss opens the door. It's standard procedure. So bye Mike!"

(Secretary starts walking away. A door slowly opens. Mike goes through the door, looks around and sees Fat Toni, who is drawing a moustache on the Mona Lisa painting hung up on a wall)

Fat Toni: "OH, HEY! Mark, right? I- uh I wasn't expecting you!"

Mike: "But didn't you literally tell your secretary that you were ready for me through ASCII??"

Fat Toni: "Mike... How in the goatlord’s shitting anus am I supposed to contact my secretary through the advertising standards council of india!?"

Mike: "Oh no she says it's with two 'I's."

Fat Toni: "Aaaahh. Well that makes more sense. I thought she was playing a number game when she sent me all those ones and zeros

Fat Toni: "Mike... I don't like mike... Is it ok if I call you Donnie?"

Mike: "Please call me by my name, sir."

Fat Toni: "Then it's settled. Your now Donnie... Donnie Dwayne!"

Donnie: (small and powerless) "ok..."

Fat Toni: "So Donnie. I'm gonna ask you some questions and your gonna answer then a’ight?"

Donnie: "Sure, whatever."

Fat Toni: "What are your thoughts on crime??"

Donnie: "I've always hated crime. I don't want to establish myself in it in any way and it helps nobody in any way. Innocent people just get hurt."

(Fat Toni gives a disapproving 'hmm' and literally scribbles on his notepad)

Fat Toni: "Now for the second question; What's your weight and how much do you normally eat in a day?"

Donnie: "How does this have anything to do with my promotion?"

Fat Toni: "Trust me, it's very important."

Donnie: "Well I guess I'm more or less the average person for both of them."

Fat Toni: "So... 49,000 calories each day??"

Donnie: "what!? No! That's stupid!! It's like 2,000!"

Fat Toni: "TWO-THOUSAND!? WHAT KINDA SUPER FUCKIN DIET ARE YOU- *ahem* That's very, very low. I gotta say, Donnie, your not doing very well for yourself so far. But you can still make it back."

Donnie: "Ok, ok..."

Fat Toni: (Dark and slowly) "Now it's time for the third question..."

(features of Fat Toni's face are blackened and are very serious as he says this and Donnie is concerned)

Fat Toni: (All grim and dark features on Fat Toni's face quickly disappear as he says this) "Do you like burgers? I like burgers."

Donnie: "Oh- well I like a good burger. They're actually pretty good."

Fat Toni: "I should probably tell you the truth... You know the gangstars?"

Donnie: "Umm no..."

Fat Toni: "Oh c'mon you gadda know them... Ya know... Biggest gang in the worldiverse?? Startin' gang wars here and there? You've probably heard of the but don't remember"

Donnie: "Ohhhhh those guys are JOKES!"

Fat Toni: "Ah c’mon, they're not that bad..."

Donnie: "I mean, they were the first and only gang to ever have their heist thwarted by an old lady"

Fat Toni: "Well- uuhh- I'm pretty sure they felt bad for the grandma and they didn't wanna hurt her..."

Donnie: "Dude, she was 96 and they had guns. She was only armed with a walking stick."

Fat Toni: "Pretty sure she was a martial artist."

Donnie: "What kind of martial artist is called Masel?"

Fat Toni: "UM only the most powerful ones. You know how martial arts gotta be, you can’t have your enemy suspect it. Pfft what do you know. Listen. I'm not your boss. My name is Fat Toni. I'm here to recruit you on the behalf of the Gangstars."

Donnie: "No."

Fat Toni: "Look Donnie, The gangstars need you. We're at a very bad state and this is the final straw for us. We need you."

Donnie: "No."

Fat Toni: "In this job, you were about to be promoted to CEO of the company. Would you rather be a CEO of Jimmyasssteak and get about 15 million a year, as tempting as it is, I think our offer will still win you over. By joining the gangstars, you get to risk your life, for scraps from heists!" (shows a picture of two happy people) "See, in the picture, you can see two of our happy members, enjoying the rough territory of wars."

Donnie: "Who even ARE they??"

Fat Toni: (Looks at the picture) "Ah. That's Tim and John. They didn't make the old lady attack. Don't ask. And I haven't even gotten to the good part! If you choose to join the gangstars, you get a chicken! On the house! With deals like that, SOMEONE'S gonna be making it through the winter!"

Donnie: "Well, I was GONNA say "no.", but I think the chicken part really changed my mind to... No.

Fat Toni: (pulls out gun to Donnie's face) (Aggressively) "It sure is a good thing that you're so excited to join the gangstars. You start..." (Looks at watch) "now!"

Donnie: "Of course. This is just great."

Fat Toni: (Holds up handcuffs) "you're gonna need to wear these..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Fat Toni and Donnie are walking on the pavement of a motorway. Occasionally, there's a car passing by. Most give an aggressive comment to them.)

Fat Toni: "Sorry we had to walk. We have a small unicycle back at the HQ... I totally forgot it though."

Donnie: "A unicycle? You can ride one?"

Fat Toni: "Yeah you should see us when we use it. We look like a fuckin' circus crew piled up on top of each other."

Donnie: "That's kinda st-"

(A car passes by, and says an aggressive comment."

Driver 1: "You fuckin' dumbass!!"

Fat Toni: "You too you piece a' shit!!"

Donnie: "What the fuck was that about?"

Fat Toni: "Well you're in the motorway. In these areas, it's home to some of the most aggressive drivers in the city. A word of advice, do NOT go through the motorway in a car. VERY few people ever see the end of the motorway. Don't worry about the comments though, asshole comments are like compliments here."

Donnie: "Oh. Well that's also stupid. What's the gangstars like??"

Fat Toni: "Oh they're great once you get to know them. But if you're gonna fit in, you're gonna wanna work on your gangstar voice. Try one now!!"

(Passing car)

Driver 2: "HEY!! I'm drivin' here!!"

Fat Toni: "yeah, I bet you are!!"

Donnie: "Well what do you want me to say??"

Fat Toni: "Ummm... say that the gangstars don't suck and that they're actually super cool."

Donnie: "Ok, that sounds like a fairly simple task." in gangstar voice) "The ganghhh-"

Fat Toni: "Go on, say it."

Donnie: (in gangstar voice) "The gagstars donn- donnut sss-" (out of gangstar voice) "nope. I can't do it. It's physically impossible They just suck that much."

Fat Toni: "Ok, imma let that pass, but don't say that any more. Look. We'll work on your gangstar voice later"

(Passing car)

Driver 3: "How's ur mom!?!?"

Donnie this time: "Much better than yours!!"

(Car stops in the distance for a moment and then starts reversing. Meanwhile, Fat Toni is in shock.)

Donnie: "Wait what's he doing?? Didn't I compliment him?"

Fat Toni: "Dammit Donnie!! YOU'RE OUTTA THE MOTORWAY ZONE!!"

(Camera shows the ground with half of donnie's front foot past a black and yellow tape on the ground)

Donnie: "Well how tf was I supposed to know that!?!?"

Fat Toni: "THERE'S A NEON ADHESIVE TAPE ON THE FLOOR AND ABOUT 50 SIGNS!! HOW COULD YA MISS IT!?"

Fat Toni: "Just let me handle this!"

(Fat Toni pulls out his gun and points it to the driver who is at this point already out of his car and is approaching them. Meanwhile, Donnie starts slowly making a getaway.)

Fat Toni: "Look sir, I'm sorry about this misunderstanding. My grandson over here."

Driver 3: "Idiot. You don't look anything like him. And the age gap is WAY too small for him to be your grandson."

Fat Toni: "Oh but he is my grandson. Tell 'I’m Donnie."

Donnie: "Huh? Oh- yeah, sure am."

Driver 3: "Well tell me something, then. Why is your grandson trying to run away?"

Fat Toni: "Are you serious?? That's like the oldest trick in the fuckin' book. Did you really think that was gonna work? Go on, Donnie, tell him how you're still here!"

Donnie: (slightly distant) "YEAH!! He's right!"

Fat Toni: "See what did I tell ya!?"

(Fat Toni looks back and sees Donnie running away)

Fat Toni: "SON OF A BITCH!! Uh... is that someone calling you a fucking dumb ass??"

Driver 3: "You're the fucking dumbass if you think I'm falling for that bu-"

(Fat Toni throws the gun in driver 3's face and starts running for donnie.)

Fat Toni: "Donnie? Donnie!! Don't worry. I think the guy's knocked out!! You can stop running now!"

Donnie: "You idiot! That's not why I'm running away! I need to go back to my LIFE! I can still get my promotion and forget all this EVER happened!!

Fat Toni: "But Donnie!! The chicken! It's still up for grabs!!"

Donnie: "You're fucking crazy!! Just leave!"

Fat Toni: "Slow down, Donnie, I'm fat!!"

(Donnie continues running while looking back at Toni who's stopped to catch his breath.)

Donnie: "hah haha AAHAHAHAH IT'S OVER! I'M FREE! OOP!

(Donnie runs into a tree and falls back onto the ground and goes unconscious. The camera shows Toni picking up Donnie and holding him over his shoulder and carries him off. The screen slowly fades.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Donnie wakes up in a small room on some hay, holding his head. The room looks old and floors and walls are made of wood. Donnie walks out of the room to another but this room looks normal and modern. Just regular but it's shit. In the room, Fat Toni stands alone in the room. He notices Donnie, starts walking towards him while talking.)

Fat Toni: "Hey Donnie, How did you enjoy our 17th century themed guest room?"

Donnie: "Well I feel like shit. I also smell like shit and I don't remember that before I hit my head."

Fat Toni: "Yeah... It's a pretty weird coincidence how the guest room does that to ya."

Fat Toni: "Listen Donnie, You're about to meet the other members of the gangstars. But, before you meet them and officially become a gangstar, you gadda sign this" (holds up a blank contract with only the signing area.) "so that if you bail, we can add shit in the blank and take you to court claiming shit you never agreed to! And if you don't officially join the gangstars, then we'll kill you. So... it's nothing important. You get it. Now sign it."

Donnie: "Welp. Doesn't look like I have that much choice... Uh... should i sign it as Donnie or should i use my actual name??"

Fat Toni: "Donnie will work just fine. I mean, I don't know how it not being your real name would affect how we can take you to court."

Donnie: "Oh I'm sure it doesn't. Real names are way overrated anyway"

(Donnie signs it as "Donnie")

Fat Toni: "Alright, this is the moment, as soon as you meet the rest of the gangstars, you'll officially be a gangstar. There's no going back from here."

Donnie: "Ummm I don't really need t-"

Fat Toni: (yelling upwards, cutting Donnie off) "GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE!!"

(Distant shuffling)

(the gangstars start walking in one by one)

Teef: (Talks in a shitty Italian accent) "What the fuck is it now?? If you've lost your cheeseburger again, we're NOT gonna help you this time"

Fat Toni: "Well actually I'll talk to you about that later buuut I called all your asses down here because I wanted to introduce the latest addition to the gangstars... Everyone meet Donnie!!"

Teef: "Oh, another one?? This is the fourth time this week. They keep dieing, dammit!"

Guiseppe: "Taglatelli!!"

Donnie: "Wait-- what's up with that guy, why did he just mention a delicious food that doesn't relate to context."

Fat Toni: "Ah, that, is guiseppe, he's got pure Italian blood, but we never really got to figuring out why exactly he doesn't talk proper Italian. His language is based mostly on Italian words that Americans know and love in their language likee... Ravioli, or pizza then there's also a sprinkle of random American words, but he CAN understand what you say. We came around to calling it retarded Italian. Oh yeah, he also makes a great ravioli."

Giuseppe: "Pizza ravioli Guiseppe (holds out hand) spaghetti"

Donnie: (shaking hand) "So is it like every word has a translation??"

Teef: "Nah it's really completely random. One ravioli could mean biscuits in one sentence but shit in another."

Fat Toni: "Yeah... Trust Teef's judgement when it comes to retarded Italian. He's the only one who understands retarded Italian."

Teef: "Welcome to the gangstars, if you need anything, just reach reach me, I probably got what you need."

Fat Toni: "Teef's our guy whenever we need something, if you need something done, just go to him!

Donnie: "yeah, sure, whatever, but why the fuck does he sound so weird??"

Fat Toni: "Well a couple years back his ass got into some deep shit and well... He knew some people who could fix it... let's just say long story short, according to the law he's related to guiseppe and is legally required to speak in a shitty Italian accent. It's a story for another time."

Guiseppe: "Spaghetti artichoke" (starts ruffling in pockets) "biscotti penne"

Teef: "Oh c'mon Guiseppe. You really gotta do that this time??"

Guiseppe: "broccoli."

Donnie: "Wait- What's happening?"

Teef: "He uh says you gotta do the ritual."

Donnie: "Oh for fucks sake what's it now?"

(Once guiseppe seems content with what he was searching for, he pulls out a live chicken and holds it in both hands and starts talking retarded Italian. What he's talking about isn't important.)

Guiseppe: "coffee ciabatta gelato..."

Donnie: "What the fuck!? Where the hell did he even fit that thing!?"

Fat Toni: "It doesn't matter, it's bad luck to question the ritual. It's a tradition that's been going through the gangstars for centuries now, your gonna have to accept the complimentary chicken."

Donnie: "What!? No! I'm not gonna accept this stupid chicken!"

(Guiseppe takes note of this and looks offended, but continues with the ritual.)

Teef: "You gotta take the complimentary chicken man. No excuses now, you're a gangstar."

Donnie: "What the hell even is this place!?"

(Guiseppe finishes speaking and goes down on one knee and holds the chicken above his head)

Donnie: "I'm not gonna take the chicken"

Teef: "You gotta take it man."

(Guiseppe starts to slowly push the chicken towards Donnie's face)

Fat Toni: "just take the damn chicken, just for a minute."

Donnie: "I can't, I'm allergic dammit!"

(Guiseppe slowly starts getting seriously pissed)

Teef: "Would you do it for a quarter?"

(Donnie shoots Teef an annoyed glance)

Teef: "He ain't buying, Toni."

Fat Toni: "Well raise!! We need him to take the chicken!"

Teef: "But I already offered a quarter!"

Fat Toni: "Whoa Teef, he's not worth our entire budget."

(Guiseppe slowly starts getting seriously pissed)

Fat Toni: "Donnie, I'm telling ya this as a warning, not advice; take the chicken."

Donnie: "Alright! I'll take the chicken!!"

(Donnie takes the chicken in a sudden movement, Guiseppe goes back to normal and walks out.)

Donnie: (throwing the chicken behind him followed by a squawk) "What a weird motherfucker..."

(Doogie walks through the door)

Teef: "Motherfucker..."

Doogie: "Reporting for business, boss!"

Fat Toni: "Ah come onn didn't I give you that calculus book!?"

Doogie: "That was a colouring book for kids."

Fat Toni: "And I did NOT think you'd finish it so damn fast"

Donnie: "Alright whose this dumbass?"

Doogie: "well my-"

Teef: "We'll do the talking, asshole."

Teef: "His name's Doogie; the smartass dumbass never really officially joined the gangstars, he just started coming here."

Fat Toni: "Physically, he's worse than useless, but he's a real smartass... Most of the time he's just annoying though. No matter what we do, we can't get rid of him.

Donnie: "Well why don't you just" (makes a slitting throat gesture)

Fat Toni: (excitedly) "Oh yeah, that reminds me, check this out"

(Fat Toni pulls a gun to Doogie's forehead between his glasses and shoots him without hesitation. When Doogie dies, he makes the most pathetic sound. Doogie's corpse slides a small distance so his head is under an object.)

Donnie: "What the hell did you just do!?You killed the weird kid!!"

Fat Toni: "What? you suggested that I kill him? Didn't he Teef?

Teef: "He did, and by laws of the gangstars, he'd be held responsible"

Donnie: "No! I was making a joke! I didn't want you to seriously kill him!!"

Doogie: (Weak and slowly) "Goooo..."

Donnie: "Wait- why did he just make a noise? What was that?"

Teef: "That. Is the reason why we could never get rid of him. I mean cmon did you really think we didn't try killing him? I mean just look at him."

(Doogie starts making a very slow rise)

Teef: "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I have something to get"

(Doogie starts talking while rising)

Doogie: "How many times do I have to tell you to not to do that guys? I know it's funny but it's annoying. You ruined my good glasses too..." (continues )

(Teef walks next to Doogie with a shovel and smashes him by the back of the head towards a wall. Doogie makes another one of his pathetic noises as he dies. His corpse slides towards a wall and and some sort of stacked tall object falls just right to cover his body from the viewpoint and from all characters in the area.)

Teef: "Welp, I think I took care of that."

Donnie: "So.... What!?"

Fat Toni: "To put it simply, it was by some really shitty fortune that the one useless pain in the ass is basically impossible to get rid of. We've never seem what happens when he's being reborn. The surrounding will just comically rearrange themselves through extremely unlikely processes to cover his corpse."

Teef: "The more you try to force seeing the regeneration process, the more destructive the events get so they'll force YOU not to see it. So uh try not to do that."

(Two semi-large guys walk into view next to Toni)

One of them: "Hey Toni. A word please"

Toni: "Oh, hey Donnie, meet these guys." (points to one of them) "This guy is Tommy de mato" (points to the other one) "and he's Danny 'D' Ruff."

Donnie: "Damn, those are some pretty stupid yet kinda catchy names."

Teef: "Yeaah... That was back when we were using the catchy name generator."

Fat Toni: "Ahh that was a good one... Anyway, they're mostly undercover or doing background work so you won't be seeing much of them."

(Fat Toni turns to Tommy and Danny and then back to the others)

Fat Toni: "Alright. I'll be back in a minute"

(Fat Toni walks a small distance with Tommy and Danny to talk.)

Fat Toni: "Alright so what's up guys?"

Danny 'D' Ruff: "We found a bank. This one's too easy."

Fat Toni: "How much they are we gonna get outta this heist??"

Tommy De Mato: "Well they don't got much money or gold or much of anything because they literally just opened but they got cookies; lots and lotsa cookies."

Fat Toni: (Stroking chin in deep thought) "How many cookies are we talking about here?"

Danny 'D' Ruff: "Get this; whenever you deposit or withdraw money from an account, they'll give out free cookies."

Fat Toni: "Holy shit that's a lot of cookies..."

Tommy De Mato: "Think about it man, this time in a few days, we'll be rolling in cookies beyond our wildest dreams and a small portion of money."

Fat Toni: "Dammit, we're doing it!!"

(Fat Toni rejoins the rest and Danny and Tommy leave.)

Donnie: "No the fuck I won't do it!"

Teef: (Offering a bloody bat to Donnie) "C'mon it's not that hard to just give him a whack to the head."

Doogie: "No, please don't. It hurts"

Donnie: "No!! It's psychotic!"

Fat Toni: "Don't worry, Teef. He's only finding it so difficult because he doesn't know him well enough."

Teef: (with a hint of hostility) "Just give it time."

Fat Toni: "Alright guys. We're gonna rob a bank."

Teef: "Sweeet. It's been way too long." (yells upwards) "HEY, GUISEPPE!! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE. WE'RE PULLING A HEIST!!"

Guiseppe: (muffled) "Taglatelli pastrami!? Fusili?"

Teef: "uhhh... Brocoli lasagna pizza"

Guiseppe: "Fusili!"

Teef: "He's in."

Donnie: "Yeeaah I don't know... Now we're breaking the law? This felt more like some creepy fanclub thing. I never really thought of doing illegal shit..."

Fat Toni: "Yea but that's only cause you don't know the stash we're gonna pull from this heist."

Donnie: "Fine. What is it??"

Fat Toni: "Cookies; lots 'n' lotsa cookies."

Donnie: "Yup... Just as incredibly stupid as I figured."

(Guiseppe joins the group)

Guiseppe: "Concerto."

Teef: "He says he's ready."

Fat Toni: "How about everyone else?"

(Camera scrolls to the side as everyone gives their answer)

Teef: "Yeah!"

Guiseppe: "Libretto" (yes)

Doogie: (excitedly but cut off) "Ye-!"

Fat Toni: (Excitedly) "You aren't coming!"

Doogie: "Awww..."

(Camera goes on to Donnie who has an exaggeratedly and comically pissed off face and his arms crossed and is hunched)

Donnie: (with a childlike misery) "No."

Fat Toni: (excitedly) "Doesn't matter!!"

(View goes back to Fat Toni.)

Fat Toni: (In a cool voice) "Well. Now that everyone's ready..." (pauses while putting on some of the stupidest glasses on the end of his nose and pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose) "... Let's go rob a bank."

*** END OF EPISODE 1 ***

#gangstars #animation #script #screenplay #comedy #action #gang #gangs #funny #gangsters

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thelastspeecher · 6 years ago

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Stanuary ‘19 - Week Three: Dreams

I struggled to come up with what to write for this particular prompt, so I asked for suggestions. And I really liked what @nour386 suggested: my version of the Reverse Portal AU, with Stan talking to his aspiring dancer son about his dreams in life. I had to do some research on ballet for this, so now I know that male ballet dancers don’t really use pointe shoes.

Stan leaned against the back wall of the practice room, waiting for his son to finish getting ready to leave. He yawned. There was a small commotion from one of the changing rooms. A boy rushed out. In his haste to leave, he stepped on Stan’s foot.

“Look where you’re goin’, kid,” Stan rumbled. The boy glanced at him. He scowled and held his bag closer.

“Shut up, old man,” the boy shot back. Stan straightened with a glower.

“Watch it.”

“Whatever.” The boy ran out of the room. Stan sighed and leaned against the wall again.

Who the hell was that kid? I haven’t seen him here before. After a few minutes, another boy emerged from the changing room. Stan beamed at him.

“Hey, sport.”

“Hi, Dad,” Emmett said quietly. Stan frowned.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Emmett,” Stan cajoled. Emmett sighed.

“Fine. I dunno if you saw that kid earlier-”

“The one who ran outta here like a bat outta hell? Yeah, I saw him.” Stan scowled. “Rude.”

“That was Ricky. He’s not normally that mean, he was just a bit startled.”

“Startled? By what?”

“Me,” Emmett mumbled. Stan raised an eyebrow.

“You? Kid, you’re not that scary.”

“Not- not me, per se,” Emmett said. He gripped his duffel bag tightly. “Just my- my feet.”

“Your-” Stan started. He narrowed his eyes. “Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Ricky’s new, so even though most of the kids in town know I’ve got two extra toes, he didn’t, and he- he was- like I said, he got startled.”

“What did he do, exactly?” Stan asked. He looked back at the door Ricky had raced out of earlier. “We could probably still catch him.”

“No, Dad. I just wanna go home,” Emmett said softly. Stan nodded reluctantly.

“If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

“I’m sure.”

-----

Stan waited until Emmett had buckled himself into the passenger seat before speaking.

“You know whatever that kid says was bullshit, right?”

“Ma wouldn’t be happy that you swore in front of me,” Emmett responded.

“Junior.”

“I thought I told ya to stop callin’ me that.”

“Emmett.” Emmett looked at Stan. “I went through all of this with yer uncle, when we were kids. I need to hear you say it.”

“Fine,” Emmett muttered. He propped his elbow against the window. “Ricky was wrong. There’s nothin’ bad about bein’ a polydactyl.”

“There ya go. That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No.” Emmett looked out the window silently. Stan waited for him to say something else, but Emmett remained quiet. After they had pulled out of the parking lot, Emmett spoke. “He was a bit right, though.”

“Emmett, I told you-”

“Not the insults. But he did bring up a few things I’ve been thinkin’ about.” Emmett continued to stare outside, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with Stan. “Uncle Ford had to get custom-made gloves fer lab work. If I really wanna go into ballet, I’ll have to get custom shoes.”

“You’ve been fine with the normal ones so far.”

“They’re startin’ to get tight again.”

“All right, we’ll take you to the store,” Stan said. He glanced over at his son. “You’ll stop hitting the growth spurts eventually, and when that happens, you won’t grow out of shoes every other month.” At sixteen, Emmett was already taller than Stan, and his height showed no signs of slowing its climb.

“They’re tight in the toes. Not anywhere else.”

“We’ll get you new shoes.”

“No, yer not listening,” Emmett insisted. “My feet are an awful shape! They’re long and thin, but then my toes aren’t proportional, ‘cause there’s too many of ‘em! It’s like if Uncle Ford tried to wear mittens.”

“What do you want, Emmett?” Stan asked.

“I wanna be a ballet dancer.”

“Then we’ll get you the custom shoes, okay?”

“Dad, they’re too expensive. And with how fast they wear out? We can’t afford ‘em.”

“Your ma and I will figure it out.”

“I don’t want you to,” Emmett said. Stan pulled over. He turned off the car. “…What’s goin’ on?”

“That’s what I wanna know,” Stan said. “Look at me.” Emmett reluctantly met Stan’s gaze. “Talk.”

“Bein’ a ballet dancer is all I’ve dreamed of. Ever since we got to see a production of Swan Lake durin’ a field trip. It’s graceful and beautiful and difficult.” Emmett paused. “I like that it’s difficult. Difficult in a dif’rent way than, like, math or science or whatever.” Stan nodded.

“That’s how I felt when I started boxing. I took to it pretty fast, but eventually, it got tough.”

“Exactly!” Emmett swallowed. “What if it gets too tough? I’ve managed to figure everything out so far, but what if it was all a fluke?”

“Then you take up boxing.”

“Thanks, Dad, but I’m too much of a beanpole to be a good boxer,” Emmett said, gesturing to the slender frame he had inherited from his mother. “And anyways, I don’t like boxing. I like ballet.”

“I know.” Stan sighed. “If it’s your dream, ya just gotta keep at it, kid. Work hard, and it’ll pay off.”

“Did it pay off for you?” Emmett asked quietly.

“You know the answer to that question,” Stan said. “No, the dreams I had when I was your age didn’t pan out. But that’s different.”

“How?”

“My dream was to be a sailor-slash-treasure-hunter with your uncle. Your uncle decided that he didn’t want to do that. Your dream doesn’t need someone else for it to turn out.”

“Uncle Ford’s dreams didn’t work, either.”

“Damn, kid, you really wanna shoot down every good thing I’m saying, don’t ya?” Stan said, frustrated. He took a breath. “Fine. Mine didn’t work out. Your Uncle Ford’s didn’t. But your ma’s did. She wanted to study lizards in a forest, and that’s what she does.”

“She studies salamanders.”

“Same difference.”

“Not really.”

“Let’s get back on track, okay? You want to be a ballet dancer. You’ve been takin’ ballet lessons since you were nine, you love it to bits, and you’ve never had any doubts about it until today.” Stan stared intently at Emmett. “What did that Ricky kid say?”

“That I’m not good enough. Most ballet dancers start earlier than I do, and when they start, they train with real professionals. I like my ballet teacher, but she’s not exactly a prima ballerina.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stan said. “She told me that today.” Emmett blinked in surprise.

“Huh?”

“While you were still gettin’ all your things, she talked to me. She said that you’ve got what it takes to be a…I forget what word she used. It was somethin’ French.” Emmett’s eyes widened.

“A danseur noble?”

“That sounds right. Anyways, the point is, she knows she can only teach you so much.” Stan shrugged. “She gave me the number of some instructor she knows in Eugene who can start givin’ ya lessons. See, kid? I’m not the only one who thinks you’ve got talent. Ricky was just jealous that you’ve got two extra toes to help with dancing.”

“I am better at balancing than everyone else,” Emmett said. Stan nodded.

“That’s what I said. So what if you didn’t get trained by the best French people or start when you were three? You’ve still got a leg up on everyone else, natural talent, and best of all, the stubbornness of a mule. I’d say the last one was from me, but yer ma’s pretty damn stubborn, too.” Stan ruffled Emmett’s unruly brown hair. “When the chips are down, you don’t give up. You find a way to come out on top.” Emmett grinned.

“I am pretty stubborn.”

“Hell yeah, you are!” Stan enthused. Emmett chuckled. His smile suddenly disappeared. “What?”

“I mean, I’m glad that you think I can be a ballet dancer like I want. But you never got what you dreamed of.”

“What makes ya say that?” Stan asked, turning on the car and pulling onto the road again. He glanced in the rearview mirror.

“Yer not on a boat with Uncle Ford, fer one.”

“So?”

“That was your dream.”

“One of ‘em. Another one I had when I was your age was of bein’ a dad. Havin’ a son that I could teach to shave and vandalize.” Stan winked. “That one worked out.”

“…I’ve never vandalized anything.”

“Huh. That’s right.” Stan paused. “Do you know where Ricky lives?”

“Yeah. Monroe Street.”

“Good, that’s near the supermarket. We can pick up eggs.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I have to teach you how to vandalize, kid. And eggs are a good starter. We can move on to things like paint and fertilizer later.”

#this was fun and good to write #thank you for the suggestion nour #I don't write nearly enough stuff with Emmett in it #Stanuary #Reverse Portal Stanley McGucket AU #Stanley Pines #Emmett McGucket #ficlet #my writing #speecher speaks

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queen-scribbles · 7 years ago

Text

Balance

For @pillarspromptsweekly fill #33: Vacation

The Dracogen was humming and lively, a usual state this time of year, and Charity almost missed the sound of someone calling her name. She’d only just swung toward the sound when a familiar, grinning elf plunked down on the barstool next to hers.

“Hey, Charity,” Tavi said cheerfully, raising a hand to flag down Dengler or Peycg.

“Hello, Tavi,” Charity laughed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Visitin’ Edér,” Tavi replied, blowing on her hands. “Hylea’s feathered tits, it’s cold out there.” Dengler paused by the two of them and she flashed him a grateful smile. “I’ll have a cider, I guess. Unless you’ve added anything since my last visit?” When Dengler shook his head, she nodded decisively. “Cider, then.”

“Edér know you’re coming?” Charity asked, taking a sip of her own drink.

“Hopefully.” Tavi smiled sheepishly. “I did write, but I also walk fast, ‘specially alone, so it’s possible I got here first.”

“Well, either way, he’s in a meeting right now, so it’ll be awhile before he’s free,” Charity said with a shrug. “Cadwyn’s a chatty individual.”

“Great, then we can talk about him,” Tavi smirked, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Edér, not Cadwyn.”

My favorite topic, Charity thought glibly, but didn’t let the words past her lips. She didn’t want Tavi getting the wrong idea. Or is it the right idea at this point? She wasn’t even sure anymore herself. “I figured,” she laughed instead. “What about him?”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It took almost every ounce of willpower she possessed for Tavi to resist the urge to sigh dramatically and say something along the lines of, The fact you’re fuckin’ smitten with each other for starters. Fun as Charity’s reaction would be to watch, the probable ensuing conversation might risk blowing open the courtship charade. So Tavi hid her knowing grin by taking a drink of her cider as soon as Dengler set it in front of her and substituted, “We could make sure you know the shit you should if he’s courtin’ you.”

“I know he loves animals, I know he snores, I know which god he worships, I know he smokes whiteleaf,” Charity ticked off. “What else do you figure is important fr to know?”

“His birthday’s the first day of Early Spring,” Tavi said with an offhand shrug. “That’s prob’ly somethin’ you should know about your suitor. Oh, and don’t ask me how I know this--I’ve been sworn to secrecy--he’s really fuckin’ ticklish.” She his another grin as she watched Charity’s face shade red ever so slightly. “Not sure why or even if you need to know the second one, but just in case.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Charity took a large gulp of her drink, hoping vainly that would somehow cool her burning cheeks. “Good to know. It does feel something like cheating to have you just tell me all these things I’d have to learn from him over time if we were actually courting.”

“Aw, fuck, no,” Tavi shook her head, grinning wide. “I’d still be givin’ you all these pointers if you were really courtin’ him.” She snorted a laugh. “More, probably.”

“Mm,” was all Charity could think to reply. “Well, I feel like I’m set on pointers. Do... you have any stories?”

“‘Bout Edér?” Tavi’s grin actually got wider. “Fuck, yes. You want a funny one or a badass one?”

Charity thought for a minute, then smirked herself. “Got any that’re both?”

Tavi laughed and bumped her shoulder companionably. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

They passed the remaining time until Edér showed up telling stories--mostly about him, but a few of the more personal variety. Charity knew without looking when he did show up, because Peycg shot her a knowing smile. She was already turning when his footsteps drew near her chair.

“Meeting go alright?” she asked with a smile.

“Well as it could,” Edér confirmed, bending slightly to kiss her forehead. He turned to Tavi. “Good to see you, Tav.”

“You, too,” she replied, something glinting in her eye.

“Next time, maybe give the letter sayin’ you’re plannin’ to visit at least a day’s head start, huh? “ he teased. “I only saw it right before my meetin’ with Cadwyn.”

“Sure. Normally I would,” Tavi said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I just needed to get the fuck out of Caed Nua for a while, and figured I’d check in with you.”

“Do I wanna know why?” Edér asked cautiously, mouth already curling in a half-smile.

“I punched a noble. In the face. Bastard shouldn’t have snuck up on me like he did.” She didn’t sound terribly apologetic.

Edér laughed. “Didn’t cause any permanent damage, I hope.”

“Nah, just gave him a bloody nose,” Tavi said, shaking her head. “Steward hinted I needed a break, an’ you know how much I enjoy visitin’ you.”

“How long this time?” Edér nodded his thanks as Peycg passed him an ale without being asked.

“Three days?” Tavi replied, sounding more like she was confirming than telling. “Keya agreed to run things for a week, but I gotta account for travel in there, too.” She gestured at the innkeeper behind the counter. “Don’t worry, I’m stayin’ here. Long as Dengler has room?”

Dengler nodded. “Several, Watcher.”

“So you don’t hafta worry about me invitin’ myself to stay at your place.” Tavi winked and took another swig of her cider.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” Edér chuckled. “You’d just be sleepin’ in the livin’ room ‘cause I don’t have an extra bedroom.”

“I’ve slept in worse places.” Tavi cracked her knuckles. “The room’s more to escape your fuckin’ snorin’, Teylecg.”

“Ah, the truth comes out,” Edér said with a laugh. “Just for that, I ain’t cookin’ for you t��night.”

Tavi shrugged. “Have you tasted Peycg’s stew? I think I’ll survie.”

“That is a valid point,” he conceded, after taking a swallow of his ale. “So, are we gonna visit here, your room, or my place?”

“Not my place?” Charity joked, immensely enjoying the two of them bantering.

“Your place is couple miles outside of town,” Edér said, squeezing her shoulder. “Normally I’m all for a brisk walk, but it’s a bit chilly for it today.”

“Your place is fine,” Tavi piped up. “Dengler, can we count this cider as me startin’ tab for my room?”

“We surely can, Watcher,” he nodded. “Which room d’you want that t’be?”

“The most basic, functional thing you’ve got,” Tavi said, finishing off her cider. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Noted. If y’ leave your pack here, I’ll make sure it gets to your room.”

“Sounds good.” She unslung her pack and sat it on the counter before grinning at Edér and Charity. “So. Your place, Edér?”

“Sure, why not?” Edér smiled, and it was almost second nature for them both to walk out with his arm around Charity’s shoulders.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

They passed a good few hours sitting around the fireplace in Edér’s living room, talking about whatever came to mind. Tavi couldn’t help but smirk a little whenever Charity and Edér laughed at a private joke or glanced at each other for confirmation of a detail in a story. It was sharply reminiscent of her parents with company over, or her with Aloth, and it was all she could do not to mention it. This vacation was a very good idea.

“So,” she began, trying to sound innocent but not sure how well she managed. “how’s the pretend courtship goin’? I know you felt a little... off-balance at the start, is that any better?”

Charity blushed a little, played with the end of her ponytail, but nodded. “We’ve worked through most of the awkwardness, and things we weren’t sure of and figured out a good balance.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Tavi said cheerfully, biting back a smile at the look that flashed through Edér’s eyes. She let the conversation drift in a more benign direction before making a comment about being tired and excusing herself.

Despite the rapidly approaching dusk, Charity stayed. A fact which made Tavi smirk the whole way back to the Dracogen.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She visited with Edér the other two nights of her stay as well. Her days were occupied with drifting around the village; she checked in on Eska, talked weapons with Winfrith, and made one visit out to Charity’s farm that was mostly spent playing with Sparrow. That night she started whittling a cat.

Her third day there was overcast from when she woke up, occasionally sprinkling flurries but otherwise content to look gloomy. Tavi spent most of the day in the inn, working on the cat carving. She bumped into Edér at lunch, who insisted she have dinner with him that night.

“Your sweetheart gonna be there?” Tavi teased.

“Wh- Charity?” He shrugged. “Probably. I mean, you two are friends, right? Makes sense for you two t’ get to visit again ‘fore you leave.”

“Oh, sure,” she nodded, completely straight-faced. “Only makes sense for her to be there.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “I have somethin’ to give her, anyway.”

As expected, the dinner was delicious. (She was still a little huffy he’d held out on her so long that he was a fuckin’ amazing cook.) Tavi gave Charity the cat she’d carved. Sparrow had been the inspiration for it, so it seemed only fair. The three of them sat and talked for a while before Tavi decided to head back to the inn for a good night’s sleep before walking all day tomorrow. She said her goodbyes, stepped outside, and pulled the door closed.

It was snowing. Just a little, the powdery white softly covering most of the surroundings. Tavi paused for a moment, briefly entertained the idea of warning Edér and Charity, then shook her head and returned to the inn. It wasn’t snowing that hard, surely the two of them wouldn’t talk long enough for it to be a problem. And well, if they did, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. She smirked. Maybe stuck together in a house the two of them would wind up admitting things.

She could only hope.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As happened far too frequently when visiting with Edér, Charity lost all track of time. That was partly the winter’s fault; it got dark so early right now it was all but impossible to keep track of how late it was. She did love talking to Edér, though, and some of the blame did lay with her.

So when she finally admitted “I should probably go” around a yawn, she found that she couldn’t.

“No way you’re walkin’ home in that,” Edér said decisively, looking at the seven or so inches that had accumulated while they talked. “Even makin’ it to the inn would be a hassle.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Charity started to protest, reaching for her coat.

“You wouldn’t be,” he promised, resting his hand over hers to stop her. “I don’t mind, and it would save me worryin’ about you makin’ it somewhere safe.”

“Well,..” It would be easier, that was for sure. And not going out in the cold would be nice. “Alright.” She could behave herself. And they were friends, turning him down would raise questions. “D’you have an extra blanket? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I do, but you can have the bed,” Edér said, tone firm. Clearly not planning to be swayed.

Charity still tried. “Edér-”

“No arguin’,” he chuckled, gently tugging her ponytail. “I’d be a mighty poor host if I made a guest sleep on the couch.”

“You’re not making me, I’m offering,” she countered. “You weren’t plannin’ on me being here. It doesn’t seem fair-”

“Charity,” Edér cut her off, resting a finger against her lips, a teasing glint in his eye. “You get the bed.”

Part of her was tempted to argue the point further out of sheer stubbornness. But he was being nice. And the bed would be more comfortable. “...Fine.”

He smiled and left her unlacing her boots once more. “Lemme make sure the room is presentable.”

“Sure...” It wasn’t until he’d walked out of sight that it fully hit her. I’m going to be sleeping in his bedroom. Maybe I should have fought harder for the couch... But done was done, and it was only for one night. No big deal. She hoped.

“Alright, all set,” Edér said as he returned. “I hope you don’t mind a little bit of mess.”

“Oh, not at all,” Charity laughed, trying to ignore her suddenly pounding heart as she teased, “A lot of mess we might have a problem, but a little is fine.”

He chuckled. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

The two of them stood in the living room, silence stretching until it was almost awkward. Charity reached up to play with the tail end of her ponytail and cleared her throat. “We should probably get to sleep. It’s late and we’ll both have things to do tomorrow...”

“Right, good point,” Edér said with a sigh, almost as if he’d been holding his breath. You can do what you need t’ get comfortable, I won’t go in ‘til you come out in the mornin’.”

“Alright,” Charity nodded as she started back toward the bedroom, pausing to rest a hand on his arm and smile in gratitude. “Thank you.”

He smiled back, almost bashfully, and kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s my pleasure. Hope you sleep well.”

“You, too,” she smiled, tugging out her hair tie as she stepped into the bedroom, hoping her tone hid how off-balance the kiss had left her. We’re not in public, he didn’t have to.... “You’re the one sleepin’ on the couch.”

She heard him laugh as she shut the door, the warmth of it sending something pleasant curling through her chest. I don’t sleeping well will be a problem.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She hadn’t counted on the bed smelling like him. Charity huffed her third sigh in as many minutes and stared toward the ceiling in irritated despair. The pillows, the blanket, all of it smelled like him and she couldn’t stop wondering if this was what it would be like to cuddle with him. Warm and safe and everywhere.

Gods, can we stop with this so I can get some damn sleep?! she begged, brushing hair out of her face. She could faintly hear Edér snoring in the living room. Good to know one of them was getting sleep. Charity hissed in agitation and dragged the extra pillow with her as she rolled on her side, wrapping one arm around it like she would a bedmate.

This was ridiculous, she thought drowsily, hugging the pillow tighter. She wasn’t some teenager with a crush, she was a grown woman.

With a crush, her mind finished (un)helpfully.

“Go away and let me sleep,” she muttered, snuggling deeper under blankets that smelled like Edér. That’s not what this is anyway.

It did, but it was still another hour before she fell asleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Tavi’s initial surprise and annoyance at the amount of snow that had fallen turned to almost gleeful curiosity very quickly. Sure, she’d have to start for Caed Nua in this mess, but if Chariy had been stuck at Edér’s... Well, maybe things had come into the open that needed to come into the open. She could hope.

Almost consumed with curiosity, Tavi bolted down breakfast possibly faster than she ever had in her life and headed for Edér’s house. She needed to say goodbye before she took off, after all. It would be extremely rude to do otherwise.

Edér opened the door on her second knock and hastily shushed her. “Charity’s still sleepin’. I think she had trouble fallin’ asleep, so I don’t wanna wake her ‘fore she’s ready.”

“Charity, huh?” Tavi grinned. Hylea’s fuckin’ feathered tits, yes. “Thought this was a respectable courtship, Teylecg,” she said teasingly, and shot a meaningful look toward the bedroom door.

“It is,” Edér retorted, a tad more defensive than she would expect. “I slept on the couch.”

Her grin widened. “So I woulda been sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch, but you took it to let her have the bed?”

He actually blushed a little. “She’s a guest. You’re Tavi.”

“Nice,” she laughed. She took his meaning, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up. “You gonna cook her breakfast and all that shit?”

“Probably. That’s what you do as a host.”

“Chivalrous of you,” Tavi replied innocently. “The whole thing. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. I just wanted to say goodbye ‘fore I head home.”

“You’re leaving? In this?” he frowned in concern at the sight of the snowdrifts.

Tavi shrugged. “I promised Keya. An’ this is nothin’ compared to the fuckin’ White March. I’ll be fine. Tell Charity goodbye for me when she wakes up, huh?”

Edér ran a hand through his hair distractedly. “Oh, uh, sure. Safe travels.”

“Thanks. Guess I’ll see ya whenever I visit next.” They hugged briefly, and then Tavi took her leave, heading back to Caed Nua with a smile on her face. Maybe she hadn’t gotten everything she wanted out of it, but it had balanced out. Short as it had been, she considered it a good vacation.

#queens fic #pillars prompts weekly #pillars of eternity #tavi illani #eder teylecg #charity #ederity

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 7 years ago

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the ultimate citation list for Schneider of ODAAT, volume 1

A reference collection of quotes and details, organized chronologically, for the first 26 episodes of One Day At A Time. Used to create this character guide.

“Can you believe it's only been 10 months since you moved in? I remember 'cause I got my five year sober chip and your mom baked me that cake. I enjoyed watching you guys eat it." 1x01

"You're 40 and you look stupid." “I'll have you know, I was invited to several Pride parades." 1x01

Uses a “very expensive” Damascus steel hammer. 1x01

"I've been doing some outreach down at the rec center, talking to at-risk youth. You guys wanna start takin' bets? Actually, scratch that. I'm addicted to gambling.” 1x01

"Love isn't even real. It's just something your nanny says sometimes to your dad." 1x02

"Hey, I may have money in the bank and two living parents, and four living stepmothers but there is a hole in here. We never had family meals. I ate alone in front of the TV. Oh, don't get me wrong. It was a massive TV. Sometimes my nanny would join me, but only if I agreed to watch telenovelas. This one time, Rosa got jealous of the housekeeper 'cause she was makin' a move on her man, so she threatened to throw live scorpions on her while she slept. Rosa was my nanny. Ex-nanny. Now, stepmother." 1x03

[Lydia and Pen fighting] “It's startin' to feel kinda like home in here.” 1x03

Schneider cooks fancy hipster food. "Nutted quinoa, wilted broccolini with radish micro-greens, and venison carpaccio on a bed of nettles. Grab a cedar plank and dig in." 1x04

"Always interesting to be the sober one at a dinner party." 1x05

"I immigrated here illegally. I'm a Canadian. But yeah, born in the 'Couve, overstayed my student visa, forced to live in the shadows of Pepperdine University. Anyway, it's fine now. My lawyers made it all okay." 1x05

Uses sheet masks, knows about chauffeurs, butlers, estates. 1x06

“The kids barely touched my black olive tapenade.” “Thanks for helping out, but maybe next time pick a food a kid would wanna eat or has heard of.” “Yeah, and maybe next time, don't hand out masks with my face on them.” 1x07

"The members of my college band have finally put aside our differences and we're reuniting to play at the fair this afternoon. My band, Full Sail, plays yacht rock. These guys were like family. I used to show up at their dorm rooms unannounced and just hang out for hours and hours and hours." 1x07

"We were setting up for the show and our keytarist threw a decorative anchor at me. This is why Full Sail broke up in the first place. Too many passionate personalities." 1x07

Has a magnifying glass in his costume trunk. 1x07

"I know nothing about my grandparents and I never will. And they live in Pasadena!" (but he goes to 'the depot' in Pasadena) 1x09

"I have never seen such un-professionalism. This is why I don't work!" 1x09

"I need to find a new place to get my eyebrows threaded." 1x10

Has a safe. 1x10

"Well, Father believed it's best to have this kinda discussion in a car because you don't have to make eye contact. Plus, you're traveling in the same direction, which fosters intimacy. So we're in the Bentley with our chauffeur, Paco. Father said it's time to have the talk. We came to the next stoplight. He hopped out, Paco told me everything." 1x10

"I didn't get the period talk till I was 12. Paco just called it 'Shark Week.'" 1x10

"When I was a kid, there was an adult section in the back of the video store. Behind the beads. I'd always chicken out and just rent a Jane Fonda workout tape. Still worked. Still works." 1x10

"You'd be surprised how many of my hookups started with 'Ugh!' ...When I was 15, I told Father I wanted to be a professional tap dancer. He laughed. It was that lack of support that contributed to my drinking and drug problem. Oh, do you find that amusing? Because 15-year-old Schneider's drinking peach schnapps out of an unused tap shoe right now." 1x11

"You have a girl over here and you were offering to have sex with me?" - "Yes, Penelope. That's the kind of friend I am." 1x11

"My dad never came to my games. All he ever did was put me through rehab six times and buy me this building." 2x01

"Maroon 5 is the best." 2x01

"Okay, I decided to take a break from dating. See, I realized that women were just another one of my addictions, like alcohol, drugs, gambling, cigarettes, snow globes. The point is, I've broken the cycle of addiction with spinning. Five hours a day, every single day. I have to do it! Plus, it's the perfect substitute for dating, 'cause it burns a lot of energy and also numbs my junk!" 2x02

“Snow globes? Is this one of our family?” 2x02

"I come over, tell him to do stuff to me, he does it, I go home. You should get one." "I think what Nikki was kinda dancing around is that you don't always have to have a relationship with a capital "R." Sometimes all you need is what the great poets of the Renaissance called a junk buddy." "Exactly. You don't even have to like them." 2x03

"See, the great thing about having a green card is you get to live here without having to do all the stuff Americans have to, like vote or serve jury duty or become obese."

"Okay, but at least you vote in Canadian elections." "Mmm. No. Even in Canada, nothing ever changes. Clean air, sensible gun control, free health care. The system's rigged." 2x04

Can picture himself “doing it” with Elizabeth Warren, was Stephen Hawking for Halloween. 2x04

"You have to pay taxes with a green card? I just texted my accountant, and he said 'cause I'm in the highest income bracket, I don't have to pay taxes." 2x04

Keeps on hand: panic room, gas mask, water purification pills, MREs, enough cash to get to Cape Verde by boat. Followed Max on Instagram. Would be honored to be Penelope's maid of honor. 2x05

"I'm very patriotic. Look in that basket. There's a bald eagle thong." 2x06

All Elena's video game equipment belongs to him. 2x06

"Penelope, tell my third stepmother I loved her! Not the second one, though. She was kind of a jerk." 2x06

"Hummer limo's downstairs. My third stepmother used to take me to the racetrack to spy on Father. For the longest time, I thought she was saying, 'Your father is with Rebecca, that horse!' It's like I'm back at the racetrack with my stepmom. What's next? Throw a mint julep in his face?” 2x07

"I love Cuba! I've been there four times. Property manager, job's just temporary. My father owns the building. I'm really a musician. Play a lot of rap-rock-ska. I'm like a male Gwen Stefani. When you're hiring a nanny, make sure she's not too hot. That's how I met my fifth mom. I had four nannies and look at the results." 2x08

Did not speak a word of Spanish when he first met them, is interested in single moms. 2x08

"If you joined an adult kickball team after saying you were too busy to join mine, you are on a long road to forgiveness." 2x09

"Your idea of stress is when your chest-waxer goes out of town." "Roberto is the only one who doesn't make it sting!" 2x09

"I shouldn't have to need these either, but I do. To see. So it's Fourth of July, 2011. I'd been sober for a while, so I thought I'd celebrate with a beer. Woke up three days later in an alley. Then the bowling ball hit me. I was in the gutter for a long time. It's really slippery without the shoes. That was the day I truly accepted that I can't have alcohol or drugs, ever. Not a beer, not a glass of wine, not even six hits of acid at a Grateful Dead show, no matter how well it makes me dance. I kinda get where you're coming from. There's something I want that I can't have for the rest of my life." 2x09

He and Pen are best friends. Also considers Max his bestie. Wants to Netflix and chill with them both, together. 2x09

"My abuelita used to put Vicodin in her coffee. And her lemonade and her sandwiches. Maybe she had a problem. As my father said to me on my ninth birthday, 'You don't need me anymore.' I use my garage for pickling and sea horse breeding." 2x10

Loves puns. "This is Elena Alvarez, my handyman mentee. Or handy-manatee." "The toilet is a cruel mistress. She is flush with complications." 2x10

"Herb and Sherb McGurb. Her real name is Sheryl, but she gets a kick out of Sherb." 2x10

"Bonsai's for dorks. This is penjing. The gentle Chinese art of tray scenery. Now that you're working for me, I finally have some leisure time." "Oh, look, there's little people. Wait, is that my family?" "Could be any Cuban family." 2x10

"I may only look two or three years older than you, but I have the wisdom of that ancient bonsai!" 2x10

"Always take the lemonade. That's Handyman 101! So you watched Jeopardy with them and then what? Well, now we know what your problem is! You fixed their toilet, but you didn't fix their souls. Elena, growing up, I had everything. But I was always alone. I don't want my tenants to feel that way, so I do more than just fix stuff. Apartment 306, macrame with Mrs. Watson. 201, lose at chess to Mr. Roth. 402, listen to all their Cuban nonsense. That's the job. That's what takes four hours. That's the difference between being a handyman and a super." 2x10

Has heard 'you're fired' a lot. 2x10

"After a grueling 30 minutes of thought, Nikki, will you be my starter wife? You're on the rebound. That's the best time to get married. You don't have time to think. So you were never thinking about me? My emotions? My feelings? You used me, Nikki, Finn's mom! And not in the way I like! And that's not all, Sister Barbara. We knew each other. Biblically. And while we were doing it, she took the Lord's name in vain. A lot!" 2x11

"Last night, I was testing the pH of the water in my seahorse ranch and, as I looked at those vomiting little guys, I realized I suck at tests. All tests. Drug, sobriety, vision, IQ, smog. You name it, I fail it!" 2x12

"Have you ever been arrested?” “Does public nudity at a hockey game count?” “There is, uh, no mention of a public nudity charge in your file.” “Oh, you just go to YouTube and type in 'Zam-boner.'" 2x12

"Yeah, they didn't specifically ask if I got drunk and tried to ride a moose, so after that I was golden." 2x12

"How important is having kids to you?" "Never really thought about it." 2x12

"I'll have you know I babysat my babysitter's kids while she was babysitting my dad, so, yeah, I got a little experience under my belt. Oh, it's my cousin Gordy. He still thinks I'm full-on Canadian. All right, good news is Gordo bought it. Bad news is I'm judging a poutine festival in Saskatoon next week." 2x12

"You're the single greatest mother I know." "Thank you. That means a lot coming from a guy with five moms." 2x12

"Fuzzy Afghan she likes, picture of the Pope, picture of a different Pope, picture of your dad, picture of the family, picture of me with the family, picture of me by a waterfall. I'm just gonna keep talking 'cause I'm not good in crisis situations." 2x13

"It's so crazy how we're both immigrants. I mean, I would never compare my story to yours, but the parallels are spooky. You were 18, I was 18. You left your family behind. I left four step-families, a maid, a butler, a chauffeur, and a horse groomer who really got me. But Father was expanding his business to the US and so I had to go. I remember, at the airport, I was crying. But Father put his arm around me and he said, 'Son, only losers cry.' So that was a long flight. You don't know how dirty a dirty look can get until you're crying for a whole plane ride and you're not a baby. I really didn't wanna be in America. So I drank. And I recreated the snowy plains of Canada with cocaine. I'm told I attended classes at Pepperdine University, but I will have to take that on faith. So, I'm in a detox center in El Segundo. This was my fourth rehab. My re-re-re-rehab. I thought I'd been doing a kickass job keeping my drug stuff a secret from all the tenants and then you showed up in my room at that clinic. You brought me sopa de pollo and said it's Cuban penicillin. You told me, 'You eat this, you get some sleep, and tomorrow, you try again.' And then you tucked me in and kissed me good night on my forehead. Forehead kisses are wildly underrated. Just something really comforting about 'em. Then again, it might just be you. Dad never did that. Or my horse groomer. After I got out of rehab, I started hanging around your apartment a lot more, 'cause it helped. Back then, it must have felt like you had this annoying, intrusive guy over. Not like now. 'Cause now you're my family. Don't worry. I haven't legally changed my last name to Alvarez. My lawyer said it was a whole thing, so... Anyway, Pen said no crying, so I'm not gonna. Actually, for once, I agree with Father. Only losers cry. And we're not losing anybody today. Let's hit that oath ceremony soon, okay?" 2x13

#schneider #reference #odaat #one day at a time

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amillixnvoicesarch · 7 years ago

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@frxncaise plays MUSE ROULETTE and gets VANESSA BUTZ

Vanessa glanced around the PLACE, eyes trying to find something that sounded familiar to her. Take a year ABROAD, they had said, it would be GREAT, they said. Well. Considering her French was average at best she barely managed to find her way around the university and while most of her classes would be in ENGLISH it didn´t mean she knew where to go.

Plus, she missed her friends. She missed her friends. She missed LEON ( despite their break up ) and even though Horizon had promised to visit, along with Fabi at some point, Vanessa didn´t feel like this was a place she belonged and yet she was STUCK here for another year.

She sighed and looked around, but came up short AGAIN, so instead she moved around, approaching a girl who was standing just a few feet away.

“Excuse moi? Parlez-vous anglais?”

#frxncaise #v: tbd #;;wanna be startin´ something ( starter )

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rattmemes · 7 years ago

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‘Grandpa’ by Brandon Rogers

Sentence starters from the ‘Grandpa’ character portrayed by Brandon Rogers! PLEASE note that some of these are OFFENSIVE as that’s the humor of the videos! Don’t reblog if you don’t like! These are not to be taken seriously in ANY WAY

“ You want me to tell you what? A bedtime story? ” “ Well it’s gonna have to be a spooky one because it’s the Halloween time ” “ And then the pharmacist told the boy you got type two diaaabeeetteeees ” “ And then the boy never had candy agaaaaiiin ” “ I need a pharmacist! ” “ All these trees stealin’ my oxygen ” “ FUCK diabetes ” “ I need more candy! ” “ I’m a real grandpa! ” “ I’m still not having any fun! ” “ When the fuck did we get to Holland? ” “ Hurry up in there my grandson has to take a Walt Disney shit! ” “God dammit, boy, how you miss the bowl? ” “ You want me to pass? ” “ You want me to see Jesus? ” “ FUCK- I’ve been jingled jangled! ” “ The god damn flashlight is broken again, where we keep the spare? ” “ This one ain’t workin’ either! ” “ I got so many demons ” “ Ohh, I got some spooky ass demons ” “ What the fuck did you just call me? ” “ FUUUUUCK- did I close that garage door? ” “ You’s a bitch and ya mammi is TOO ” “ I need to find that pharmacist ” “ Son, I’m gonna ask you one more time put that candy back I am not buying you that sugar ” “ One... Two... Do I have to get to three? ” “ Santa’s watchin’ you, asshole! ” “ Oh, I’m gonna have a ball with this ” “ Excuse me young man, where’s your pharmacist section? ” “ Will you come over here and help me fix my diaper? ” “ Oh shit, we’re bein’ pulled over- everybody be cool- here hide these- ” “ My license? Yes, I remember givin’ it to your mammi to prove I was over eighteen ” “ ... Who am I? ” “ God damn dementia where the hell am I? ” “ Y’know back when I met your first gran’mammi back in, uh, 1857, well uh, she was the pharmacist at that time- ” “ Y’know when your mammi gave birth to you, she had to get sheself a c-section. That was the saddest section of her life ” “ I would like to speak with that pharmacist, please ” “ I drank some bleach all the way down to the blue and now I’m startin’ to feel like Harry Potters ” “ Yeah, well, I took the whole goddamn bottle of these vitamins here ” “ Well it tasted like candy to me ” “ You know somethin’? You really suck at playing hide-and-seek ” “ Y’know that ____ looks like a pharmacist ” “ Jesus, that ____ look’s like they could use a pharmacist ” “ Alright, you’ve had enough pills give me back my bottle ” “ My goddamn grandkids keep playing holiday prank on me ” “ Give me back my colostomy bag, grandpa’s gonna have a black friday blow out- ” “ That was my last pamper- ” “ Look at the whip he’s got, that ___ owns somebody ” “ They’re sellin’ dildos to kids! ” “ Don’t look at the dildos! ” “ Oh, a spooky ghost! ” “ Hi, ___, you still look like a slut! ” “ I met my first valentine on this ride, their name was ___. They’re a ghost now ” “ I came to American on that boat- I’m ready to now! ” “ C’mon, let’s go, they’re gonna vote for Hillary! ” “ Get fucked, fatty ” “ You wanna get your shit pushed in? ” “ My least favorite is ___, the oldest one, they are why I’m pro-choice ” *vomitting into the toilet* “ Go get grandpa more eggnog- and get your homework done! ” “ You had it comin’- you had it comin’, asshole! ” “God dammit get your homework do-- FUCK- ” “ All I got for Christmas was a gun and some skittles ” “ You think you slick, ___? Your friends only know you as a hole-haver ” “Ooohh, a goddamn wreath ” “ Ohh, I’ve done strayed too far from home this time ” “ I could hike home with these shit knees, or I could be a man and face the 14 angry women waiting for me at the pearly gates, and that one very confused boy ” “ Who else wanna see Jesus? ” “ Know about what? ” “ I wanna go home! ” “ I’m not thirsty little boy ” “ I’m done with this queer party I just wanna go home ” “ No, bitch ” “ Try me, bitch ” “ This needs to happen less frequently ” “ Congragulations you just triggered a Vietnam flashback ” “ Something just popped! ” “ Ah-ah-ah, stop pointing at that retarded boy ” “ Boy, pull up your god damn pants, I can see Pinocchio and he is telling the truth ” “ The hell am I supposed to do with this? I can’t shove this up my ass ” “ I wanna hang myself ” “ What did I tell you about the candy? This sweetie gonna give you diabete, no ” “ I’m not scared! ” “ Outta my way, I’m a real grandpa ” “ I haven’t touched a piece of candy in twenty years ” “ Well I suppose a little bit never hurt nobody ” “ You’re not my grandson! Go away! ” “ C’mon, keep up with grandpa ” “ Stupid kids! ” “ Another candy store! ” “ Excuse me, pharmacist, where’s your sugar section? ” “ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ” “ The holocaust was a farce! ” “ What the hell you mean I can’t go on this ride? ” “ We ain’t goin’ no where until you drink all your milk ” “ Now I gotta go scare off these damn trick-or-treaters ” “ I told you mother fuckin’ kids to leave me the fuck alone ” “ Every Halloween I have the same god damn nightmare. A goblin tries to eat out my asshole” “ Last week I got mugged by a goddamn ballerina. She tried to make me pass away, then the bitch spun away ” “ Have you seen this app? It shows you what you’re gonna look like when you get old and fucked up ” “ The spookiest thing in this store is that a dick that small is in my gene pool ” “ Put that candy back I am not buying you shit! ” “ Fuck me right the asshole ” “ I don’t want this anymore ” “ Oh this might be supreme on the tortilla ” “ Look at this they serverin’ human food to dogs ” “ Oh, this is longer than my dick ” “ Get back here you little asshole ” “ Dammit, boy, where are you hidin’ ” “ When we get home, I’m gonna give you a spooky ass grounding ” “ Oh, a goblin! ” “ What the fuck is alla this? ” “ Y’know the oldest one keep decoratin’ me when I’m asleep? ” “ I don’t want no damn flower ” “ ‘Cause I’m allergic, you want me to pass? ” “ Ah-ah-- goddammit boy why you gotta play with the dog’s asshole you got an iphone! ” “ No, it’s the youngest one this time, he keep playin’ with that dog’s asshole ” “ Oh, look who’s gettin’ slick at the mouth ” “ You just lost Werther’s privileges after dinner ” “ Lookit that the logo is what? An asshole ” “ That’s too tight for me ” “ Pull up your pants, boy, this isn’t Red Lobster ” “ I lost my heart many Valentines ago ” “ Stop tryin’ give me damn flowers ” “ You know I’m allergic, you want me to see Jesus? ” “ You can stick these flowers you know where. Asshole ”

#rp meme #meme #role play meme #sentence meme #sentence starters #rp starters #brandon rogers starters #brandon rogers rp meme

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kenkamishiro · 7 years ago

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re:quest [tension] - chapter 4

I don’t even know how it took me this long to do chapter 4 (please don’t ask). Unfortunately the last chapter will definitely take a while since I’ll be starting school soon, but I’ll definitely finish it at some point.

For those who haven’t read “tension”, the short story about the CCG art festival, you can read chapter 1 here. Enjoy!

(Thank you @tokyo-ghoul-out-of-context for proofreading.)

“Huh?” Koori-senpai, what are you doing?”

When Hairu had showed up to work at the S1 squad’s task room, she had found Ui cutting up photographs with a pair of scissors. “Do you have a grudge against those people in the photos or something?”

“Of course not.” Ui said, glaring at his hand. Hairu shrugged and sat down in her seat to escape from his line of sight.

When Ui finished cutting up the photo he had been holding, he began to clean up. Hairu rose from her chair and looked at him again. “Are you making a scrapbook then?”

In addition, the photos he had were similar colours.

“...it’s for the art festival. I’m making a collage out of them.” It seemed like he was going to paste the photos he had cut out to form one complete piece of art.

“You’re going all out, huh?”

“If I’m going to do something, I’m going to do my best. If I hand in an unfinished product, I’ll look like a fool, and I don’t really want that to happen…”

Ui took a deep breath.

The annual art festival that had been a slump for all these years was now booming. It had become a topic of discussion among investigators, which was unheard of. And even though the deadline wasn’t near, the art festival executive committee was worried that the hall they rented every year to display the artwork wouldn’t be big enough to display them all.

“I never thought this would become this big of a deal.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted though, Koori-senpai?” Wasn’t this now an event that was suitable for Arima to adjudicate?

“...there’s a limit to everything.”

However, Ui was a pessimist. As Hairu pondered just what exactly was making him this high-strung, a visitor suddenly came into the room.

“Mmm...Koori-boy.”

With just a glance she could see the muscles bulging from the man’s brawny figure, hair styled into a pompadour coupled with a voluminous moustache. This was Tanakamaru Mougan, a Special Class investigator with a presence that was like overwhelming stench of a million spices mixed together.

He was a veteran investigator known as ‘Mougan of the 2nd ward’, but to Hairu he was simply someone who reeked of old man. His sweltering presence made it seem like the task room was heating up.

Ui stared wide-eyed at Mougan who looked like he had been planning to meet Ui all along, though it seemed like Ui hadn’t been expecting him at all.

“I heard about it, boy.” Mougan lumbered over to Ui’s side and approached him thoughtlessly.

“...h-heard what?”

“That you set this year’s art festival on fire!” Mougan was applauding for Ui as his way of praising him. Just how in the world did he make his claps sound like large explosions?

Ui was making a face that was impossible to describe because of the unwanted flattery. Was the sullen expression Ui made whenever the popularity of the art festival was brought up because this was the news that was being spread?

“I wholeheartedly believe that events that enrich life, or in other words, ‘adult extracurricular activities’, are a fantastic idea. Take me for example. I organized the CCG Dandy Contest and the Inter-ward Baseball Classic, though I wasn’t able to turn them into major events. Unbelievable, perhaps I should call you a young genius now...hmm?”

Mougan, who had been stroking his moustache the entire time while he was talking, grabbed Ui’s scraps of photos. “Koori-boy, you’re in the middle of making something as well! Hoh, how fascinating, you’re making a collage, I see.”

“Yeah…”

Mougan could guess what Ui was trying to make right away, thanks to his deep and extensive knowledge of culture from having grown up in a temple. “It must be difficult preparing the photos though.”

“I suppose…”

Mougan nodded in agreement, and then he suddenly made a fist and thumped his chest. “I see, boy! Is it that you need my help with your art!?”

“No, I’m good,” Ui said, turning him down.

But Mougan’s reply was, “Don’t hold back! So you were interested in my camera!?”

Once Mougan became like this, there was no stopping him. He firmly grabbed Ui’s shoulders. “Hahaha! Looks like we’ll be dripping sweat and tears for your fantastic art! Fwahahahaha!!”

Ui’s day is getting worse, Hairu thought as Mougan’s explosive laugh resounded in the room.

Even people with art experience were having difficulties. This wasn’t limited to just Ui, however.

“I told you, this should be like this, like this, like that, and this should be like that. Get what I’m sayin’, buzzcut?”

“No, I don’t get what you mean!” the Qs squad leader Shirazu yelled out without thinking in response to Saiko’s rude explanation.

Shirazu and Saiko were currently in a family restaurant. Sitting on top of Shirazu’s table was a glass of juice brought from the fountain machine and a motorcycle magazine alongside a sketchbook which had two circles and horizontal lines drawn in it. At a quick glance the drawing looked like an eggplant or a cucumber, but it looked like a motorcycle to Shirazu.

Shirazu was trying to get an award from the art festival, as the winners would receive prize money, though it was a meagre amount. But to him, whose biggest desire was to make money, this was an opportunity that he couldn’t pass up.

The problem was that it was virtually impossible for him to win an award. Shirazu had lived a life unrelated to the arts, and going for a ride on his motorcycle suited his nature more than holding a paintbrush. Because of that, he was aiming for the honourable mention rather than shooting too high for the grand prize or the runner-up prize. He had asked Saiko to teach him how to draw because it seemed like her drawings that she doodled to waste time were easier to draw compared to Urie’s oil paintings.

But it was more difficult than he’d expected putting it into practice. “For starters, show me what you can do,” Saiko had said, so he had tried drawing a motorcycle while glancing back and forth at the magazine. But it was evident that he couldn’t draw to save his life.

“Shiragin, how’re you supposed to ride that spoopy horse?”

“...shut up.”

On the other hand, Saiko’s paper had a well-drawn motorcycle drawn in a distorted style. Shirazu and Saiko had drawn the same motorcycle, yet the drawings looked like completely different things.

“I thought it’d be easy to draw if it was familiar and something that I like…”

“Guys are just like that. They can’t see the people in front of them.”

“And this ain’t even a person. Shit…” Shirazu fell flat onto the table and groaned. “I just wanna cover my face in black ink, stamp it against the paper, and just submit that as my self-portrait.”

“I won’t stop you then.”

“That’s when you’re supposed to stop me.”

“As a squad member, I shall watch over the Qs squad leader’s naked body print.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Ahh, I wanna eat a ton of karaage.”

“I don’t care if that’s what you wanna order, just teach me properly!” Today was Shirazu’s treat to Saiko for helping him out.

“Right, right,” Saiko said as she pressed the call button to bring the waitstaff.

While he watched her order, Shirazu thought about how surprisingly peaceful it was now.

“...eventually I’ll forget that I’m an investigator.”

“You know, I always forget.”

“And just how do you do that?”

“‘Cause the only thing in my mind right now is karaage. Karaage, karaage!” Saiko sang the word in her own tune. In this kind of state she wouldn’t be able to coach him until she was done eating. Shirazu, having become bored again, began filling the blank spaces on the page with circles. The small circles began to multiply.

The reason why he had been noticing how peaceful things were was because of the Auction Cleanup Operation that had taken place recently. Shirazu harboured all kinds of emotions from that battle.

I want to...be beautiful.

Those were the words that his opponent Nutcracker had spit out after his finishing blow, words that didn’t sound like anything like what a ghoul would say. Because of that, when he stabbed her it hadn’t felt like he had exterminated a ghoul, but rather killed a person, and those emotions weighed down Shirazu’s heart. It had reminded him of the mortality of humans, and also related his father’s suicide.

He wasn’t the type to think too deeply, but he couldn’t erase these thoughts burning within himself. Though in that fight, it wasn’t just Shirazu’s heart that had been affected. All the Qs had been affected one way or another; it had affected Saiko who was always cracking jokes, it had affected Urie, it had affected Mutsuki as well.

“Lotsa nice circles there, Shiragin.”

“Hm? Oh, you’re right.” Before he knew it, Shirazu had drawn circles all over the paper without any gaps in between them.

“Wow, this is kinda disturbing.”

Looking at the aggregation of circles, Shirazu closed the sketchbook, but Saiko grabbed it. “THIS IS...ART!”

“The hell are you sayin’?”

She pulled the sketchbook out of Shirazu’s hand and looked at the page covered in circles. “Shiragin, draw a ton of small circles on a big piece of paper. A ginormous one.”

“Huh? That sounds like a pain to do, where’s the fun in that?” he said exasperatedly to Saiko, who sounded like she was off her rockers.

She waved her finger and clicked her tongue at him. “You don’t understand what art is, so of course you’d find it boring.”

“Oi, I’m startin’ to get pissed off at you art geeks.”

“Funny comin’ from the CCG bastard! Draw the damn circles, draw them!” Saiko shoved the paper in front of Shirazu’s face.

“Stop it already!” Shirazu said, swatting the paper away.

“Do you want the prize or not, Ginshira!?” Saiko exclaimed.

“I want it…”

“Then listen to what the charismatic Saiko has to say!”

The way he was right now, he wouldn’t even have a remote chance of winning the award. That being said, Saiko didn’t think that those circles would help him win one, but she felt that Shirazu could somehow manage since circles were easy to draw.

“Fine,” Shirazu replied.

Now that the artistic direction was settled, all that was left was to just draw it. He and Saiko split ways when Saiko said that she was going to go buy art supplies for herself, and he began walking to the Chateau.

“Art festival, huh…”

Urie was going to paint as always, and Haise was going to make a gingerbread castle with Mutsuki.

“...”

Now that he thought about it, it felt like Haise had changed as well after the Auction Cleanup Operation, though it was hard to say just what exactly had changed in him.

“...who knows, he might just be tired or something,” Shirazu muttered to himself, and then he suddenly remembered something. “Ah, that’s right.”

Shirazu changed his course of direction. He soon arrived at a cafe called :re, and passed through the entrance.

“Welcome,” the cafe owner came to greet with a gentle smile. She was a lovely woman who looked around Shirazu’s age.

“Ah, thanks.” Shirazu sat at the counter and ordered a cup of coffee which the taciturn male employee behind the counter prepared for him.

The aroma of coffee rising from the steam, he placed the cup to his mouth without waiting to cool it down. It was delicious as always. Haise had teared up when he drank this coffee.

“Looks like you’re the only one here today,” the owner called out.

Shirazu raised his head. “Ah, yeah. The black coffee I drank last time was amazing.”

“Thank you so much. Come to think of it, we met at the hospital as well.”

A while back Shirazu had gone with Hanbee from the Suzuya squad to visit Juuzou’s partner Shinohara, and that was when they had passed by each other. It had been just for that moment, but it seemed like she remembered.

If that was the case, then maybe he could bring up the topic.

“Um, has Sassan come by?” he asked. “Um, he was the person that was with me before. But not the one wearing the eyepatch…”

“I haven’t seen him recently,” she replied. Recently, so that meant that he came by a few times. “He must be pretty busy, I heard he was doing some investigator work.”

“Huh, I don’t think it’s that busy right now though…” He should have plenty of time now because things were usually calm after a big operation like the Auction Cleanup Operation. Maybe it was because he was spending time interacting with the ghoul he had invoked ownership rights over?

“...um, you know, there’s going to be a CCG art festival coming up soon.”

“C-CCG?” The manager seemed to respond more to the fact that he had said CCG instead of the art festival.

“Pretty weird, huh? Sassan and the guy with the eyepatch, Tooru, are gonna make a gingerbread castle. It’s gonna be pretty fun, so if you have time do you wanna drop by? It’s open to the public.”

“I’d love to go, but the shop…” She looked at the male employee standing behind the counter. The silent man was washing the mugs and didn’t seem to react to anything she had said.

“Oh, I guess there’s nothing you can do about that. It was only if you had time.”

“Yes. Thank you for offering.” The owner gave him a soft smile, then went back to work. Shirazu also finished his coffee and left the cafe.

“Hnn...so much for that.” He’d thought about how happy Haise would’ve been if she had come…

“Oh well. Though I’m pretty sure I saw Sassan pass by here secretly…”

If the opportunity came up, Shirazu would ask her again. This time Shirazu walked towards the Chateau.

“Did that guy leave yet?”

After Shirazu left, a bespectacled man appeared from the back of the shop. With a listless expression on his face, Nishio Nishiki, known by the CCG as the S-rate ghoul Serpent, sat down in a chair with a thud. His face had been covered by a mask back when he fought the Qs, but they still heard his voice, which was why he had been hiding in the back.

“Shouldn’t you go to the festival, Manager?”

“Idiot,” the cafe owner, Kirishima Touka, replied to Nishiki’s words. She stared at the door that Shirazu had exited out of. If Sasaki Haise knew that he had spent time with Touka and the others as Kaneki Ken, what would he think?

“Make me coffee,” Nishiki demanded to Touka.

“Go make it yourself,” she retorted.

“So stingy,” he said, and he went behind the counter. “But an art festival, huh...it’s just like grade school.”

“What’s wrong with that? It sounds fun,” Touka said as she washed Shirazu’s mug.

School.

The sound of it made her chest ache.

Touka-chan, do you want to go to the zoo together?

She unexpectedly recalled that scene. This was back when she’d still been attending school.

The zoo?

Yeah! I can bring lunch, and we can go sometime during summer break...I want us to go together again. I know you’re busy with studying but…

It’s fine. It’s not like I’m gonna fail just by taking a day off.

In this life where all she’d done was lose, the only things she had accumulated were promises she’d been unable to keep.

Once we graduate, Yoriko, are we going to drift apart?

...I don’t wanna...

Yoriko. Even if we graduate, we’ll still hang out together.

The words she had said to her beloved friend in the end, became nothing but a lie.

“Hmm, I guess. Being able to do stupid things like that does seem like a lot of fun,” Nishiki said as he finished making his coffee. He then suddenly let out a sharp laugh.

“What’s that laugh for? You’re grossing me out.”

“What’d you say?”

Nishiki glared at her, but realizing that arguing would be pointless, he returned to his seat at the counter with his coffee in hand.

“I just remembered this guy from the school festival planning committee at the university who had the dumbest haircut.” He looked at Touka while grinning. He had been at the university that Nishiki had attended.

“...”

Touka looked at the door again. Even now, she still remembered the moment that she saw Kaneki - no, Sasaki Haise - appear and pass through that door.

Touka wiped the washed mug and returned it to the shelf. “Looks like he’s pretty valued by them.”

From the way Shirazu spoke, Kaneki was needed by them, and she could imagine that that was how Kaneki had come to call that place home.

“Valued? That’s kinda fucking scary, you comparing him to a female lion?”

“Huh? Want me to kill you?” She glared at him again, but feeling foolish she dropped her gaze right away. When she turned away, she saw Yomo looking at her, and she looked away again.

“...”

When was the last time he’d called her Touka-chan?

“...Nishiki, it’d be too difficult for me to go, so why don’t you go to the art festival in my stead instead?”

“Don’t you even feel a bit sorry for daring me to go out in this cold weather?”

The sun was setting, and soon the cafe would become crowded with salarymen and students commuting from school that Touka and Yomo would have to serve coffee to.

Speaking of which, a long time ago she had used her younger brother Ayato as her practice partner for making coffee. But no matter how much he drank, he never once said that it was delicious.

What would it taste like now? She wouldn’t be able to make her coffee taste like Yoshimura’s, but could she bring out the taste of Anteiku?

It was then that Haise floated into her mind. He had cried drinking her coffee. His name may have changed, but he was still him even with his memories lost.

Touka brought the coffee she’d made to her mouth. It wasn’t that she wasn’t lonely. It was just that there was an emotion more powerful than loneliness inside of her and in the cafe too.

The sun was setting, and the bars in town were bustling with people. The ghoul investigator, Fura Taishi, entered a cozy pub and found the back of a nondescript-looking man sitting at the bar.

“Hey,” he called out with a wry smile, without bothering to check who the person that blended into the pub was. The man, Hirako Take, looked over his shoulder. Seeing Fura, he gave him a small nod.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

“Go ahead.”

After ordering drinks, Fura talked to Hirako while snacking on the appetizers that they were served. “The art festival’s become a pretty big deal.”

“It really has.”

“Are you participating as well? What are you going to submit?”

“Kuramoto told me to submit pictures of my dog.”

“I see.”

Hirako was supposed to submit something but had no clue what to submit, so the vice squad leader Itou Kuramoto had suggested he take photos of his dog.

Speaking of photos, Ui was also using photos to make a collage, but he was losing his mind because of Mougan, who had suggested that they work together. All of Mougan’s photos that he took were spirit photography, which he couldn't use. It was strange, considering Mougan had grown up in a temple. Furthermore, Mougan had even destroyed his camera after being disgusted by a ghost that he had photographed.

“What about you?” Hirako asked as Fura took out his cigarette and lit it.

Fura shook his head silently. “Art isn’t really my thing, plus Arima isn’t making anything himself.”

It had only been for a short time, but Arima had been in the same class as Fura in the past. Fura had become an investigator, and it had been many years since he last spent time with Arima, but he couldn’t forget his memories from that time.

I’m going to continue pursuing ghouls, moving from place to place. It’s been a while since I spoke to someone my age. Although I wasn’t quite able to live a normal school life...it was surprisingly fun. Thank you.

They had met in his second year of high school. Arima was blunt, didn’t have much to say yet spoke too many unnecessary things, and was indifferent to his work. But he had saved Fura’s life in the process. Once Fura’s wish to defeat the ghoul who had robbed the life and right eye of his childhood friends was granted, Arima had left.

Even to this day, many years later, Arima was someone Fura didn’t understand, but he might just be the type who didn’t like talking and kept to himself.

“...hey, that reminds me.”

Hirako was now a squad leader with his own subordinates, but he had been requested to return to the Arima squad to help Arima. Considering how the vice squad leader Itou had grown, Hirako’s time there would be up soon. However, figuring that Hirako wouldn’t have much to say about that matter, Fura swallowed his words and smoked his cigarette instead. As the man who had served as the long-time partner of the ‘strongest investigator’, he must be carrying a heavy burden.

“...do you have pictures of your dog with you now?”

“No, the only ones I had I submitted already.”

“I see. I’ll look for them with my wife and daughter then.”

He exhaled the smoke from his mouth, and the smoke immediately dissipated.

Time went by, and the art festival slowly drew near.

“...one, two, three...fufu.”

The white drawing paper was steadily being coloured bit by bit by Hairu, who was sitting on the floor, surrounded by coloured pencils strewn about.

She had drawn a field of flowers, the backdrop of her memories.

The deadline of the art festival that brought about excitement absent in previous years, finally arrived. Amidst the grief of the investigators who couldn’t make their artwork in time, the judging began.

“...why is there so much art?”

Every year, someone from the Washuu clan acted as the adjudicator. This year it was Washuu Matsuri. He looked at the crowded displays of artwork with a tired expression. Just reviewing all this artwork would take ages.

Meanwhile, Washuu Yoshitoki, the CCG Bureau Director and Matsuri’s father, looked at the art with a smile. “Isn’t this great? The art festival was a success!”

“It’s a waste of time.”

“These were all made with precious time. You should take your time admiring them,” Yoshitoki chided to the rebellious Matsuri. However, Matsuri’s discontent face refused to disappear.

A distance away from them, Arima was observing the artwork by himself.

He had been told to select just one piece of art that he liked. All he had to say was “I like this,” and that would be the end of it.

Arima moved forward at a quick pace.

He continued without stopping, and it seemed like he was going to run out of artwork.

“...”

Arima stopped. It was a single picture. A scene of flowers blooming profusely. Standing in the middle of the flowers was a gentle-looking teenager with black hair and a young girl.

“...”

A landscape from long, long ago.

Arima stayed there for a short while, gazing at that picture.

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#Tokyo Ghoul #Tokyo Ghoul:re #Tokyo Ghoul:re[quest]#Translations #my translations #Ui Koori #Ihei Hairu #Tanakamaru Mougan #Yonebayashi Saiko #Shirazu Ginshi #Kirishima Touka #Nishio Nishiki #Fura Taishi #Hirako Take #Washuu Matsuri #Washuu Yoshitoki #Arima Kishou

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prime-one-blog · 7 years ago

Text

12 Takeaways From Michael Jackson’s Thriller

(DISCLAIMER:This is a bit of a read.If you enjoy reading and music,I think you’ll like this.)

1982 was a year in music where a telephone number could function as a catchy rock song chorus (Tommy Tutone's "867-5309/Jenny"),where continents could get mad love or representation via Billboard-worthy singles (Toto's "Africa" and Men At Work's "Down Under"),and where "the number of the beast" was less a harbinger of earth's impending apocalypse and more a heavy metal masterwork (Iron Maiden's album and song of the same name.) It was a year that announced the arrival and breaking through of two artists that,together with Michael Jackson,would form the trinity of Eighties musical titans (Madonna and Prince,respectively.) As a rapper,it would be shameful if I didn't mention that 1982 was also a year where hip-hop was given a good,hard,from-behind shove into the mainstream courtesy of Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five's seven-minute long rap treatise of ghetto life that was "The Message" and Afrika Bambaataa And The Soul Sonic Force's Kraftwerk-inspired piece of rap/electro bliss that was "Planet Rock." (The latter song also spawned the freestyle subgenre of electronic music due to its Roland TR-808 generated drum track that became freestyle's default rhythm setting.)

With 1982 having already served up more than a generous helping of killer tunes (enough to make for an extensive and excellent playlist in today's terms),a nice portion of tasty albums (Roxy Music's Avalon,Duran Duran's Rio,and the aforementioned Iron Maiden offering of Number Of The Beast,to name a few),and a few watershed moments for burgeoning styles of music,it was only appropriate that the King Of Pop enter into the arena and throw his hat in the ring.On November 30th of that year,Thriller was released and the album would go on to not only be a monster smash but a game-changer in the music industry.

As a kindergarten-age pup at the time of Thriller's release,I had no awareness or understanding of the significance of that moment in recorded music history.My concerns were not of the transpirations within pop music as they were with having fun with die-cast dinky cars.Fortunately,given that Thriller was a mammoth pop record and there was some adroit promotion of it,it was still scorching hot product nearly two years after its coming-out and,as such,ties into a few of my childhood memories that were made when the buzz about Thriller was at its loudest.After undergoing the lengthy transition from being a young boy who enjoyed looking through his father's collection of 45-rpm vinyl records and playing around with a Casio keyboard to a grown adult that had a fiery passion for music and who immersed himself in the making of it,Thriller became more than just something I listened to for pleasure and entertainment.Having become cognizant of how big Thriller was in terms of sales,production,impact on popular culture,and influence on future music acts,the album was an object of thorough and serious study as it provided me with valuable education on how to make great music.

All that aside,it's mind blowing that three-and-a-half decades have elapsed since Michael Jackson dropped the highest selling album of all-time on the world like a large nuclear warhead.On the anniversary of its release,I offer my twelve takeaways from what I deem to be the GOAT of all albums.

12."BRUUUUUCE!"

Rarely,if ever,does a major-label recording artist or band make an album completely on their own.Looking at the personnel listing of Thriller,Michael Jackson had a small army of talented musicians to help him make the record.Among all of the names were three men whom-along with Jackson-formed an indomitable foursome.There was super-producer Quincy Jones (whom I'll get to later on),British songwriter extraordinaire Rod Temperton,and Bruce Swedien.

The mention of "Bruce Swedien" to your average Joe (or JoAnne) would probably get a "who's that?" in reply.If they ever saw him,they might think Swedien played in the movie Cocoon and did commercials for Quaker Oats and Liberty Medical (diabeetis!) In the music producer community,however,Swedien is something of an engineering O.G.that has probably forgotten more about recording and mixing than most people would ever come to know.When the man speaks,you listen because you might damn well end up learning something that will make you a better producer.But I digress.

Thriller was an ambitious project.Included within its lofty goals was-in Quincy Jones' words-to "save the music industry" and for the album to represent the gold standard of sound and production.With production credentials dating all the way back to Count Freakin' Basie,Swedien's experience and expertise made him the right man for a big job.And,boy,did Swedien ever deliver as the production value on Thriller is quite high.The uptempo tracks on the album have a Sugar Ray Leonard-type punch to them and it's that punch which makes them exciting and exuberant pieces of pop music.There's a clarity of elements in every cut off Thriller and good use of the stereo panorama where Michael Jackson's vocals are almost hugged by the backing instrumentation in a way that isn't suffocating.And something should be said about the convergence of Hollywood and pop music via the creepy and cinematic sound effects on Thriller's titular track.In short,Thriller is a fine example of what a pop record should sound like but rarely,if ever,does nowadays with loudness being prioritized over the preservation of dynamic range or the maintenance of good mixing work. Though the time that Thriller was made and vinyl records still being an absolutely necessary medium of music distribution played a large role in the album's production quality,Swedien's work enabled the record to hold up nicely against those of the future that would be combatants in "the loudness wars." It's pretty safe to say that Thriller might very well not be the album it is or possess the sound that it does without Bruce Swedien's miking and mixing prowess.That said,we should all give him the props that he deserves.

11.Getting sued sucks.But sometimes it isn't always so bad.

I know,it's easy to say when you've never been litigated against.I'm sure that no one in human history that has been made a defendant in a legal matter was overjoyed by the possibility of having to fork over some coin due to some allegation of negligence or infringement.That includes Michael Jackson,who was made subject to a lawsuit by Cameroonian artist Manu Dibango for the use of "mama say,mama sa,ma ma coosa" in "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'."

One can't fault Dibango for filing suit against Jackson.After all,recording artists tend to get anal if one of their contemporaries pilfer or appropriate material that was borne from their creativity without so much as a request for permission of use and pursue legal action in response.Though Jackson had to compensate Dibango with more than just a few Cameroonian francs in an out-of-court settlement,it was more of a gain than a loss.For starters,the moolah that Jackson gave Dibango was a drop in the bucket to the haul that Jackson would eventually receive from sales of Thriller.It was not a bank-breaker for Jackson by any means.If anything,it was an investment into what has to be the best part of "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'." Though there may not be a direct connection between the song's subject matter and the "mama say,mama sa,ma ma coosa" which is repeated several times near the song's ending,it's easy to overlook.This is mainly due to the fact that it's so damn catchy.If the chorus hook with its "yeah,yeah" doesn't embed the song in your grey matter for some time after hearing it,the inclusion of the "Soul Makossa" chant is insurance that it will.It's triumphant,joyous,and it's a stroke of genius that isn't restricted to achieving maximum catchiness to the song.In the something-for-everybody approach that Thriller seemed to take premeditatively,the borrowing of "Soul Makossa" for its opening jam infused a world music flavor-specifically of the West African variety-into a Western pop song and it may also be a young black artist's musical acknowledgement of his mother continent.That said,it was worth every franc that Jackson doled out.

10.Eddie Van Halen was a bowse.

Before 1978,there was no shortage of guitarists that axe enthusiasts could revere or be influenced by.Page,Clapton,Blackmore,Iommi,Hendrix,Richards,Gilmour,and Beck were just a few names within the pantheon of string-plucking deities.Then along came a Dutch guy with a bad ass last name whose incendiary and almost futuristic guitar playing put him atop Olympus.Edward Van Halen was on a whole 'nother level and no one,save for the equally gifted Randy Rhoads (Ozzy Osborne's guitarist),was in the same tier.Sadly,Rhoads' young life was cut short in a March 1982 plane crash and his death left Van Halen alone at the top.Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones needed a guitar solo for the pop-rock combo of "Beat It" and "VH" was the most logical guy to go to first.

Right from the get-go,Van Halen was in bowse mode.He hung up the phone on Quincy Jones assuming that it was a prank call.Then he defied the "no doing anything outside of the band" rule that he and his Van Halen bandmates had by going down to Westlake Studios in L.A. and contributing to "Beat It." Then he set one of the monitor speakers in the studio's control room on fire in the process of laying down a seventeen-bar guitar solo for the ages that he didn't even ask a dime for! However,the bowse didn't stop there.When his Van Halen mates found out about their guitarist's breaking of band rules and told him that he was foolish for doing pro bono work on someone else's project,Eddie fluffed it off and stated that he knew what he was doing and he wouldn't have done it if he didn't want to.

Behind the dazzling and superhuman guitar shredding is a real dude that does whatever the hell he wants and doesn't care.Bowse.

9."The Girl Is Mine" was a significant moment in music history.

Perhaps rightfully so to an extent,"The Girl Is Mine" deserved the flak that it got from music critics.Though not a terrible piece of music,it likely was a wasting of potential that a Paul McCartney-Michael Jackson duet could have otherwise yielded and it does require a suspension of disbelief to listen to (although that potential ended up being better met the following year on McCartney's "Say Say Say.") Two guys fighting over a girl often get violent with each other and don't use words like "doggone" in their exchange (maybe "goddamn" but not "doggone.") Furthermore,if you're going to make a song based upon that concept,it's better to give it the crunchy,heavy,aggressive,and hard-edged sound of "Beat It" than it is to make it an ultra-sugary soft rock number.Nonetheless,it was a hit and probably so because it was aimed squarely at the older crowd,many whom indubitably met ex-Beatle McCartney and his fellow invaders from the British Isles with anything but resistance and rancor.

When you look beyond the saccharine character of "The Girl Is Mine" and examine the whole of the song,the significance of it becomes more visible.Macca and MJ teaming up to do a song was not only significant in that it was a pairing of legends on the same track but that it was a symbolic "coming together" (Beatle pun intended) of two major pieces of twentieth century music history:The British Invasion and Motown.

8.If it wasn't for Peggy Lipton...

Let's first establish who Peggy Lipton is before I proceed.Lipton is an actress who's perhaps best known for serving up coffee and cherry pie as Norma Jennings on the iconic television series Twin Peaks.At the time of Thriller,Lipton was Quincy Jones' wifey-poo and,as such,her lingerie and Hollywood connections would result in her making a contribution to parts of the album.

Yes,Peggy Lipton's intimate wear did indeed contribute to Thriller.Jones noticed that the lingerie said "pretty young things" on them which,in turn,caused a light bulb to appear over his head.His spouse inadvertently gave him at the very least a title to a song that could go on a Michael Jackson album and eventually did with the James Ingram-penned "P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)." Aside from being a bouncy,relatively funky tune that perhaps gave a passing nod to the electro genre that was gaining steam at the time (with its vocoder elements),"P.Y.T." exists as a musical testament to artistic inspiration sometimes coming from the most unlikely or unexpected things.

Probably of more importance than her lingerie being the origin of "P.Y.T." was Lipton's role in having a big-named movie star do a feature on "Thriller." The song was already a danceable number that,at its surface,seemed like a celebration of the scary and horrific but there was something missing:A chilling spoken-word rap that gradually brought the song to its conclusion.Quincy Jones could envision horror-flick legend Vincent Price reciting this rap and Lipton did her part in making that a reality.Nowhere does Lipton's name show up on the Thriller personnel listing or in the songwriting credits but she helped in more than a small capacity,whether she intended to or not.

Speaking of Price...

7.Vincent Price sorta got shafted.

One would think that Price's evil,reverb-drenched laughter at the end of "Thriller" alone would have had the ducats coming into his estate even now never mind the rest of his masterful recitation of Rod Temperton's Edgar Allan Poe-like spoken-word rap.Nope.Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones paid a rather low "price" for Vincent's feature on "Thriller." $1,000 was what it cost to get the horror film star to be at his most creepy over top haunting and ominous pipe organ chords that have "Baroque period" written all over them.Obviously,the one-off deal was great for Jackson because he got a Hollywood icon on his record for cheap.The deal worked the other way around for Price whom,after seeing "Thriller" blow up the way it did,got salty about getting a measly grand for his feature.He attempted to reach out to Jackson with the intentions of appealing for a more generous compensation and was ignored.

On one hand,Price had no right to seek out more money for his cameo on "Thriller." After all,if he wanted a handsome sum of dolla,dolla bills,he could have used his celebrity and legacy to negotiate something with Jackson and Jones that was fair for all parties instead of agreeing to a one-off that would put only ten "benjamins" in his pocket.Price made the regrettable mistake of undervaluing his own talent and,rather than let it be a live-and-learn experience,he wanted to renegotiate a done deal.

However,it's hard to be devoid of sympathy for Price.He put down perhaps the most epic poetry reading ever through his magnificent voice-acting and gave "Thriller" the piece it needed to complete its spooky picture.The fact that neither Jackson or Jones revisited their deal with Price when the song had proven to be a hit and offered him more on the basis of it being the morally right thing to do was something of a douchebag move.It certainly wasn't one of Jackson's or Jones' shining moments,to say the least.

6.It's a good thing that Quincy Jones let one particular demo casette play.

Toto guitarist Steve Lukather,drummer Jeff Porcaro,and keyboardists David Paich and Steve Porcaro were making contributions to Thriller while concurrently working on their own band's 1982 project Toto IV.En route to the recording studio,Steve Porcaro had gone to visit his young daughter that had been living with his "baby mama." After arriving,he'd been informed about his little girl's terrible day at school,one that saw her being pushed off a slide by a boy.When asked by his daughter "why" this boy would do that to her,Porcaro told her that the boy probably liked her and that it was "human nature." In trying to explain to the best of his ability to his emotional young child why a boy could be so mean to her,it inspired Porcaro to later come up with a song called "Human Nature." He recorded a demo of the song on a casette tape.

David Paich was working on some keyboard grooves for Quincy Jones in this time frame.Knowing that Jones' assistant was going to stop by,Paich asked Porcaro-whom was staying at Paich's house-if he could make a casette with what Paich had been working on for Jones.Realizing that they had run out of tapes,Porcaro recorded Paich's material on the A-side of the casette that he had put the "Human Nature" demo on and eventually gave it to Jones' assistant.Jones was listening to Paich's grooves and ended up becoming preoccupied with something in his office,which allowed the A-side to play all the way through and for the auto-reverse feature on Jones' casette player to run the B-side of the tape.Porcaro's demo caught Jones' attention and he asked Porcaro if "Human Nature" could be used on Thriller.After being given the green light from Porcaro,Jones enlisted songwriter John Bettis to replace Porcaro's original lyrics as Jones wasn't too keen on them (save for the "why,why" and "tell them that it's human nature" stuff.) The inclusion of "Human Nature" to Thriller gave a song called "Carousel" the swift boot off the album.Though "Carousel" (later released as a bonus track on a re-issue of Thriller) was a fairly decent track that was so wonderfully early-Eighties in its sound,"Human Nature" was leagues above it.Being my favorite cut off Thriller,there's so much right about "Human Nature." Jackson's vocal delivery is breathy and from a place deep in his soul.The song's lyrics,with its clever metaphors and its underlying meaning,are well-written.The synth melodies are aural candy and sound like they were composed in heaven.All in all,the song is a smooth R&B track that is perfect for something like a night drive in the city.

Quincy Jones was of the belief that a higher power had a hand in making Thriller the successful pop masterpiece that it is."Human Nature" making it on to the album could very well be an attestation that divine forces were at play.Had Jones not been involved in something,he may have stopped the tape after hearing Paich's music and "Human Nature" wouldn't have seen the light of day.Fortunately,things happened the way they did and a little girl's lousy day at school was turned into something great.

5."Billie Jean" was all types of crazy

According to Jackson,Billie Jean was purely a fictitious female that was MJ's composite of all the groupies that he and his Jackson 5 brothers had to deal with.However,according to Jackson's biographer J. Randy Taraborrelli,the song may have been inspired by an obsessed female fan that had taken her obsession with Jackson to great lengths.In 1981 (the year before Thriller),Jackson had been in receipt of a few letters from a chick claiming that he had been a father to one of her twins.In response to her paternity claims and her expressions of love for Jackson and her desire to have a family with him being ignored,she got angry and sent Jackson a parcel containing her photo,another letter,and a gun.In the letter,she instructed Jackson to commit suicide on a certain date and that she would do the same after murdering the baby that Jackson had supposedly impregnated her with.If Taraborrelli's theory was correct that "Billie Jean" derived from something so chilling as to induce goosebumps and cause the tiny hairs on the back of the neck to rise,the song was already crazy in the literal sense by who and what inspired it.

In the process of writing "Billie Jean," Jackson's life could have ended more prematurely than it did with his June 25,2009 death at the age of fifty.Being so absorbed in this song that he was working on,he was completely oblivious that the vehicle he was driving in had a fire going in it and he had to be made aware of the situation by an alert and concerned motorcyclist.Add another layer of crazy to the mix.

Then there was the song itself,which was a smash hit that went deep in the upper deck.Though "Human Nature" is my favorite MJ tune and personal bias could compel me to say that it's the finest work in Jackson's catalog,"Billie Jean" was perhaps Jackson's magnum opus.From a musical standpoint,it had all the necessary ingredients for it to be a high-charting pop joint.The rhythm could implore one to get on the dance floor the very instant that the solo drum break starting "Billie Jean" off sounds.The bassline-a rather simple repetitive eight note sequence-grooves and can lodge itself in the listener's head.The pre-chorus alone is hook-ish never mind the chorus itself,which is hook perfection.There's the gradual introduction of funky synth,punctuated guitar,and dramatic string elements that keep the song interesting.And,yet,for all of the sheer pop goodness that "Billie Jean" offers,it just might be more frightening than "Thriller" because the subject fare of the song is far more real than zombies could ever be."Billie Jean" may well be as much a song about paranoia as it is about what could result from being famous and messing with a girl that has "schemes and plans" behind her feminine wiles.Adding to the stark nature of the song is the conflict that Jackson seems to have within himself.On one hand,he declares with conviction that "Billie Jean is not my lover" and that her "kid is not my son." On the other hand,his vocal delivery when he speaks of looking at a photo of the little boy and realizing "his eyes look like mine" is one of shock,fear,and resignation.It arouses wonderment whether Jackson's repeating of "Billie Jean is not my lover" a number of times late in the song is an emphatic proclamation of his innocence or a convincing of everyone including himself that the truth is really a lie.It all makes "Billie Jean" a crazy good song.

If things weren't crazy enough,the video for "Billie Jean"-deserving of its own exegesis-helped the fledgling MTV to soar into the mainstream.Furthermore,it was also the song to which Jackson-at the Motown 25 television special watched by an estimated 50-million people-created a craze by performing his famed "moonwalk" dance move for the first time."Billie Jean" had every crazy base covered.

4.Thriller was almost as much Quincy Jones' project as it was Michael Jackson's

Michael Jackson is the only name that shows up on the cover of Thriller.And rightfully so,as he is the performer that's front and center on the album.When all the other musicians and producers were finished with their work on the album,it was Jackson that took the songs from out of the studio and brought them to concert venues around the world.However,Thriller could have easily borne both Jackson and Jones' names and it would have been fair.

Jones was in possession of some incredibly keen ears.One could have dropped a nickel on the ground from half a block away and Q would've likely heard it.Jones had an amazing acuity for sound that went to its deepest level.Maybe of greater importance was Jones' encyclopedic knowledge of music.From that,Q's instincts were more often than not trustworthy when it came to chasing down a hit song.He could discern what would make a musical work fly and what could cause it to flop.Michael Jackson wanted to make a killer album and he knew that Q would make the odds of him doing so quite favorable.It likely took no arm-twisting for Jones to get on board with Jackson's vision and become as invested in it as Jackson was.Part of Jones' investment may have been spurred by what he would stand to gain if this album had succeeded in meeting all of its goals:A boatload of money and a larger-than-life addition to his CV.But it's hard not to get the sense that Thriller was a labor of love for Q,one that not only involved a love for good music and the making of such but a love that he felt for the artist with whom he was working.The relationship between Jackson and Jones wasn't solely a professional one,which meant that Jones had a more deeply personal interest in making Thriller a big-time record and giving the young pop singer he had been mentor to with the needed fuel to be a superstar.In so doing,Jones-along with Jackson-had went through approximately 700 demo recordings and only committed what was felt to be the creme de la creme to the album.

It was Jones who,inspired by The Knack's "My Sharona," came up with the idea of having Jackson foray into rock territory and who could visualize Eddie Van Halen performing a guitar solo in the instrumental midbreak of what became "Beat It." It was Jones who felt that a recitation of a spoken-word rap in the outro of "Thriller" was needed and he could hear Vincent Price doing it.And,when the initial finished product of Thriller revealed a falling short of the desired goal for its sound upon play through,it was Jones who rallied the dejected troops to do what needed to be done to correct things with the deadline fast approaching.It was Jones who willingly took on the rigor and exhaustion that came with the production of a highly aspiring album.It's beyond difficult to fathom Thriller being as magical or scintillating without "Q" as its executive producer.

3.Even the non-singles on Thriller were great tunes.

Though it's a given that Thriller is a hit-laden,solid from first-to-last track album,saying that 77.8 percent of its songs were singles really illustrates how insanely good it is.(It bears a resemblance to a greatest hits compilation.) However,the other two cuts-or 22.2 percent-that weren't singles are by no means filler material."Baby Be Mine" is a danceable love tune that seemed to be a continuation of the Off The Wall sound,albeit in a punchy post-disco vein where synthesizers replaced the orchestral element (usually string sections) that was present in scads of disco tunes like Jackson's own "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough." With "Baby Be Mine," Jackson's pre-Thriller fan base were able to enjoy some degree of consistency in Jackson's sound while tweaks were made to it to veer away from disco and warmly embrace the Eighties.Then there's "The Lady Of My Life," a gorgeous love ballad that closes out Thriller.With Jackson's soulful vocals,its heartfelt lyrics,and its warm R&B-meets-smooth jazz character,it might just be the perfect song for a newlywed man to put on and do his bride to.

"Baby Be Mine" and "The Lady Of My Life" could have probably been hits in themselves had they been on someone else's album or not pitted against stiff competition on its own.However,despite being overshadowed by the more behemoth songs on Thriller,these two cuts were sparkling necessities for the whole of the record.

2.There is an irony in Thriller.

If it's not an irony,maybe it's a paradox.If it's neither,I don't know what you would call it.

Prior to Thriller,Michael Jackson-inspired by Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker" suite-wanted to make a colossal album that was the highest selling of all time and would launch him into the stratosphere of superstardom.And yet,something of a leitmotif is established on Thriller in the subject matter of 3 of the album's nine tracks:Jackson's dealings with the negative aspects of being a pop music luminary.Wasting no time,"Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'"-the lead off track on Thriller-is Jackson's ebullient counterstrike on media and their propensity for sensationalism and gossip.Long before Jackson had faced scrutiny for the lightening of his skin color and the surgical alterations to his face as well as allegations of sexual misconduct toward children,he had an issue with bad press and the spreading of rumors.He likens being a celebrity to being a vegetable that "they"-most likely the media but not limited to-will feed off for their own survival or gain.Then there was "Billie Jean," which I have already addressed in my fifth takeaway from Thriller. "Billie Jean" calls to mind Jackson's earlier celebrity/vegetable analogy from "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" (Jackson does mention the name "Billie Jean" on that song) but,on this occasion,the one trying to do the feeding is a girl claiming Jackson's paternity to her young child.Finally,on "Human Nature," Jackson touches on his longing to step out into the city night and walk around like an average person instead of being cooped up in his room and insulated from the world which he was known all over.Part of Thriller in essence was Jackson expressing the discontentment he had with life in the spotlight and letting his listeners know that fame and fortune wasn't all glitz and glamour.However,having been thrust into the spotlight as a young boy and being someone with an artistic soul,the possibility of giving up the life he'd known since his formative years and denying himself further opportunity to be creative wasn't realistic.Perhaps resigning himself to the notion that fame was inescapable,Jackson decided to embrace it to the best of his ability and make himself as huge a star as a human could be.

1.Thriller established why Michael Jackson was (and still is) the King Of Pop

If Jackson's fabulous 1979 effort Off The Wall wasn't his coronation as pop music royalty,Thriller saw the diadem placed atop his jheri curls.Jackson raised the bar so high with Thriller that he made it near impossible for anyone,including himself,to elevate.Though his death forced him to abdicate his throne,he was buried with his crown.

One only needs to reference Thriller to understand why Jackson is pop music's kingly figure.He was his harshest critic and a staunch perfectionist who never rested on his laurels.Though Off The Wall was a critically acclaimed album,he wasn't entirely happy with it.It was like he was constantly nagged by the thought do more,do better.He set huge goals and then pushed himself hard to accomplish them.He had the right people working with him to make his vision a reality.Jackson embodied indefatigable work and relentless drive.

Whereas we might refer to all pop music stars as being "artists," such a description of Jackson wasn't given to be polite but rather because it was befitting.He had such an appreciation for art.As previously mentioned,Jackson's inspiration for Thriller was Tchaikovsky,who had written suites like "The Nutcracker" filled with great music.He had instructed the musicians who had worked with him on Thriller to "think of Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel" and to do what they felt was necessary to provide the right "colors" for his songs.Jackson's art was transcendent of the audio medium.The videos for songs from Thriller were iconic as the songs were themselves.

Michael Jackson made pop music that was palatable.Jackson's brand of pop was so much different.It was pop that sounded like pop but yet didn't.Though,like all popular music,Jackson's material had the largest possible listening audience in its crosshairs,it frequently didn't come off as being kitschy and that was especially the case with the cuts off Thriller.Jackson's music reached into the handy-dandy grab bag of tried-and-true musical devices without conveying the impression that it was trying too hard to be a hit pop song.It didn't need to encourage people through chorus hooks to get on the dance floor or shake what their mothers bestowed upon them.People just got on the dance floor.Most importantly,Jackson's pop was staunchly avoidant of placing a best-before date on itself.Though Thriller may be very Eighties in its sound and its premeditation to be humungous (because everything had to be big in the "decade of decadence"),it contained the necessary preservatives to keep itself fresh over a lengthy span of time and there's an awfully high probability that it will never grow stale or become a relic of the period in which it came out.A sizeable quantity of pop music simply isn't in Jackson's league.As such,it doesn't stand out from its ilk but rather sounds like simulacra of it.It tends to be corny and irritating instead of stylish and agreeable.It makes itself easily replaceable by future music that will inevitably use the same recipe from the musical cookbook to whip up something for the Hot 100.

Perhaps the only way that someone can take the King Of Pop distinction away from Michael Jackson is if Jackson's soul is reincarnated in someone else's body.Otherwise,Jackson continues to reign and it's due in large part to Thriller.Happy 35th!

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