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noladyme · 4 years ago

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My Only Sunshine - Chapter 4

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

CHAPTER 3

I had the driver take me to Reunion Tower; not wanting to go back to the hotel just yet. Clutching the package in my arms, I stood for a long time, looking at the panoramic view of Dallas. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t appreciate it; being too rattled from my encounter with Thomas. He didn’t remember me, and yet he’d sent me the picture of myself dancing; and the one of me and Sam talking. Or had he? I was confused, and afraid.

After I watched the sun set over the city, my phone rang; and I picked up the call. “Hi. You’re late”, I heard Pam’s bored voice. “Oh… right. I’m sorry”, I said. “Fråga henne var I helvete hon är!”, Eric thundered in the background. “I’m supposed to ask where in the hell you are…”, Pam said. “I’m on my way back”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few. I have the package”. “Är hon I säkerhet?”, Eric said. “You could ask her yourself…”, Pam said. Someone threw something made of glass. “You should probably hurry up… Before we have to pay for this place to be renovated”, Pam said. “I’m on my way”, I said, and hung up.

I told the driver to hurry back to the hotel, and almost ran into the suite. A maid was sweeping up some broken glass from the floor, and a recliner was almost torn in half. Pam was reading yet another magazine on the couch. I had been right about Erics comfort about his own nakedness, as he stormed into the living room – lips drawn back in a snarl – without even closing his robe before Pam or anyone else might see him. It was only when the maids jaw dropped, that he finally decided to cover himself up. He was holding the torn-up dress I’d been wearing the night before, and threw it on the coffee table. “Goddammit, Eric. That was couture!”, Pam said. “Please tell me the boots are ok”. “Get out”, Eric said to the maid. “Sir, I just need to…”. “I said, get the fuck out!”, he growled. The woman almost ran out of the room. “Great, now I have to go out for breakfast”, Pam said.

Eric walked up close to me; staring me down. “Where the fuck have you been?”, he said. I moved around him, and put the package on the table. “I went to see that photographer, like you asked me to”, I said quietly. A V-amped psychopath, who would have probably hurt me, if he hadn’t been glamoured to forget me. “You should have been back hours ago!”. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep from screaming at him. “What the fuck do you care? You only just rose”. Pam raised a brow at me; and I almost offered her some popcorn with her show.

Cherishing my life more than that, I instead headed towards my room. Eric stormed after me; and took a firm hold of my arm. I instantly froze in place. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry”, I breathed, not daring to meet Eric’s eyes. He let go, and seconds later, I found myself seated on the edge of the bed, with the vampire kneeling in front of me. “What happened?”, he asked. “Nothing… Nothing happened”, I said. I wasn’t lying – nothing had happened. Thomas hadn’t touched me; not in the way I’d feared he would if he ever saw me again. “Pam, go get ready. Take the gift, and make it more presentable”, Eric said almost inaudibly. I heard the door to the suite close behind Pam as she left.

I was shaking in front of Eric, and he brushed his knuckles down my cheek. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me”, he said. “I would never hurt you”. “I know…”, I whispered. “Do you?”, he asked. I didn’t reply. “Liv; look at me”. I raised my eyes, and met his. They were gentle, even warm. “I do… It’s just this place… those vampires last night”. This time, I was lying; a little. Eric raised his brows at me. “That’s why I don’t want you alone after sunset”, he said. “I can’t protect you when I don’t know where you are”. “I know”, I nodded, and looked down again. “And I should have been back before sunset. It’s what you’re paying me for”.

He put a finger under my chin, and made me look up at him. “Did you think I was angry because of the job?”, he asked. “I don’t know, what I think… Why didn’t you just get someone else to come to Dallas with you?”. My voice was sharp; surprising even myself. “Don’t give me some story about meetings and stuff; I don’t even know what kind of information I’m supposed to pass on to you”. “You know why”, Eric said. “So… we could have sex; and you could get over your thing for me…”, I almost whispered. He frowned at me. “When I realized you were gone, after I rose…”. He clenched his jaw. “Yeah, I saw that chair in there”, I muttered. “I don’t do that… I don’t lose control”, Eric said. “But I did, because of you".

I put a tentative hand on his shoulder. Eric leaned closer to me, and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck, and he pulled me of the bed; onto his lap, so I was straddling him. I whimpered softly, when he suckled at my lover lip, and slid his hand down to my butt; squeezing it. “If we had enough time, I would fuck you on the floor right now”, Eric said against my lips. His robe had opened; and looking down, his erection was telling me that he was being truthful. “Later?”, I asked hopefully. “Greedy…”, Eric chuckled. I blushed, and turned my face away. “No, I like it”, he assured me; and kissed my neck near the fang-marks form the night before.

I pulled back slightly. “Eric… Could you make them go away?”, I asked. He set me back on the bed, and got up to stand; removing his robe, and throwing it into a corner, before walking back towards his own room. “Yes, but I won’t”, he said. “It’s better that you have the marks tonight. There will be even more vampires we must convince of you being mine…”. He turned around facing me in all his glory. “Unless, you changed your mind…”, he said, raising a brow at me. “I didn’t”, I assured him. He grunted, and rolled his eyes; before continuing into his room. “The red dress”, he said, as he walked away. “Oh, and we’re going to talk about whatever it is Sugar and Spice means. You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”.

“Fuck…”, I muttered to myself.

---

“You were a stripper?”, Pam said. “I knew you had at least one redeeming quality”.

We were seated in a sedan again; on our way to Godrics house, where the opening ceremony of the conference would be held. Eric had more or less been glued to my side, after I stepped out of the bathroom wearing the dress, he’d chosen for me. My chest was pushed up by the tight fabric, and he’d looked hungry in more than one way, when he saw me. Now, his face was pointed forwards as I sat next to him in the limo. I didn’t know if he was pissed or didn’t care, now that I had told him and Pam about my former job. His face gave nothing away.

“I didn’t strip…”, I said. “Wasn’t really a reason to; I was already wearing so little”. “So, you just danced in your underwear?”, Pam asked. “Yeah… Was good at it, too”. I wasn’t going to make some stupid Viking make me feel bad about a job I had enjoyed. At least up until the part where I had to drop everything, and run away. “How are you with a pole?”, Pan said. “Enough”, Eric said. “We’re here”.

The limo stopped in front of a beautiful modern house, and Eric stepped out first; giving both Pam and I a hand to exit the car. I was once again in a pair of ridiculously high heels, and finding it difficult to walk behind my vampire companions; but knew that we were in business mode, and I needed to know my place as a lowly human. I wasn’t supposed to complain; I should be honored to even be there. I was carrying a cloth wrapped package – the item I’d picked up from Thomas’ studio. Taking the lead of our little parade, Eric nodded at the vampire guarding the door; and we entered the large room – without me falling over in the process.

Stan seemed to hold court in a corner, surrounded by vampires and a few humans. His meal from the night before had been lent out to another vamp, who was snacking from her wrist on a large white sofa. Isabel was nearby, looking in Stan's direction, while conversing with Carl – a worried expression on her face.

Eric stopped at the end of a line, going up to a large double door. I went to stand behind him and Pam, but he reached back to grab my arm, and tug me forward; so that I stood next to him. “Do you remember the rules?”, he asked. “Don’t speak unless spoken to. Keep my head down. Don’t attract attention”, I muttered. “You’re going to have trouble with that last part”, he said. “You look delicious in that dress”. He looked down at me. “I’ll take the blame for that”, he said, smiling slightly. So, he wasn’t pissed.

After waiting for what seemed like forever – especially in uncomfortable shoes – it was our turn to face our host. The double doors opened, and we stepped into an office. Godric was seated in a recliner, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Eric kneeled in front of his maker; but as Pam didn’t follow, I thought I didn’t need to either. I was only furniture, after all.

“It is good to see you again”, Godric said; and put his hand on Erics head. “As is custom, I have brought you a gift”, Eric said, and got up to stand. I looked at the large desk, and saw a spread of items – ranging from jewelry, to an ancient looking sword, to what looked like a solid gold cowboy boot. Eric turned to look at me, letting me know to hand over the package.

I stepped forward, and handed Godric the bundle, making sure to keep my eyes down. Godric placed his cool hand on top of mine, and I raised my eyes to see that his were trailing my neck. He looked at me, and smiled almost sadly. “Thank you”, he said. “Eric. You’ve tasted”. “I have”, Eric said. “She is… like nothing I have tasted before”. “I’m not a fucking juice-box. Stop talking about me like that!”, I hissed.

Pam’s jaw dropped, and Eric looked impossibly paler than before. “Liv…!”, Eric said below his breath. “Stay quiet”. Godric smiled broadly. “You’re the first human who’s dared to speak out loud in my presence tonight”, he said. “That is the best gift so far”. Eric looked down at the floor; and Godric got an expression, like a parent in front of a disappointed child. “But, I am sure I will be glad for this as well”, he said, and began unwrapping the velvet cloth from around the gift.

Inside was a black wooden frame, surrounding a photograph, of three figures. I looked over it quickly, recognizing two of the people photographed. Eric and Godric. The third was a woman.

“1839, Cormeilles-en-Parisis”, Eric said. “The last time…”. “The last time we were all together”, Godric said. “Louis Daguerre captured the moment, before Nora glamoured him to forget”. Eric smiled softly. “She had to. We almost drained his assistant”. “He lived”, Godric said. He looked up at Eric. “It is a good memory, Eric. Thank you”. Eric nodded with what verged on a warm smile.

The door opened, and Isabel stepped inside. “Godric, 13 is waiting”, she said. “And we all know what happens when Rose is kept waiting too long”, Godric almost sighed. “Eric, I will have need for your human at the ceremony". Eric frowned for a moment. “Yes, Godric”.

We left the room quickly, and once again I kept behind Eric and Pam. We went outside into the yard, where a platform had been raised on the middle of the lawn. Strange music – like classical techno – came from some speakers, and vampires were mingling, having quiet conversations. “What was that about?", I asked. Eric gave me a look out the corner of his eyes. “I’m not sure", he muttered; seemingly very unhappy about that fact. I wasn’t just unhappy. I was afraid. I didn’t know what Godric wanted from me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “He has need for me? What am I supposed to do?”. “I don’t know!”, he thundered. “But you will be fine… I’m sure of it”. I wasn’t.

All the attending sheriffs and their companions gathered on the lawn; and as my heels were sinking into the ground below me, Eric put an arm around my waist to keep me standing. “Maybe you should have gone barefoot”, he said quietly. “Dick”, I muttered. “Later”, Eric promised, making tingles run down my spine.

“Welcome vampire-sheriffs of the Americas”, Isabel said, having gotten on the platform accompanied by Stan and Godric. I guessed Isabel was some sort of deputy-sheriff; I didn’t know too much about vampire politics. “Before we start the ceremony, let me go over a few of the agreed upon statutes for our convention”. The strict-looking female vampire raised her hand, but Isabel halted her. “Rose, your objections have already been noted; and the suggested changes from Area 13 will be voted on at the appropriate time”. “She wasn’t at the party last night”, I whispered. “Because she’s a boring cunt”, Pam said. “Now shut up”.

Isabel continued. “Feeding on willing humans will be allowed, outside meetings. Sheriff Godric encourages you all to keep it in private – or at least away from humans not attending the conference. Only TruBlood will be served during meetings, for those who cannot wait until after… Claimed humans are off limits, unless their masters allow it, and the human consents…”. Eric gazed towards me, and shook his head slightly. I was off limits to anyone but him. “There will be no deaths at this convention, be they human or true deaths for vampires… Any agreements made between districts will be shared at the end of the convention”. “Fat chance”, Pam scoffed, while Eric simply raised a disbelieving brow. “These are the main points of our agreed upon statutes. The rest are in your welcome packages”, Isabel finished. “Godric will now lead the opening ceremony”.

Godric stepped forwards with a solemn expression. “Brothers and sisters – and humans”, he said. Some of the vampires sneered at his addition. “We are convened to share and learn from each other. Under our kings and queens – and under the Authority – we are to lead and guide the vampires in our areas, keeping peace and assuring prosperity; especially in our relation to the human world”. Another murmur went through the crowd. “As this is election year, this is a good a time as any for new beginnings”. “What the fuck is he doing, Eric?”, Pam whispered. “Is he trying to get killed?”. “Not now”, Eric said. “Custom is that we open the conference, by the host toasting in blood from a chosen human; who kneels at the sheriff’s feet… Eric?”.

Eric tensed up next to me. “Godric, no…”, he said almost inaudibly. “För fram din människa”, Godric said, and looked at me. I swallowed hard. “What’s happening?”, I croaked. Eric looked at me defeatedly. “Godric has chosen you to feed from”, he said. My eyes widened in fear. “He can’t do that, I’m supposed to be yours!”, I said. “I must do as he asks…”, Eric said; and with a firm grip around my arm, he led me forwards. “You’ll be fine”. “I don’t want to!”, I said. “What the hell happened to consent?”. “Do us both a favor, and shut the fuck up”, Eric said. “Just trust him”.

Eric lifted me onto the platform, as if I weighed no more than a small child; and I was now stood in front of the ancient sheriff of Area 9. Eric stepped over to stand next to Isabel and Stan. Godrics eyes were warm, and he gave me a slight smile, before turning to the crowd again. “I’ve decided to forego custom”, he said. “Peace between vampires and mankind should not be discussed, after a ceremony based on degradation of humans. We were once all humans; though some of us may have forgotten that”. I heard Stan curse below his breath, and gazing across the crowd I saw a wide range of expressions on the present vampires faces. Some where smiling, respectful even; while others – too many for my liking – looked angry, and even afraid. Godric looked at me again. “Human, I stand before you in appreciation of your life, your mortality and your bravery for being here; among us who have preyed on you for millennia. As a representative for humankind, I ask for your forgiveness for the blood I and my kind have taken from you without having been given leave to do so. I cannot ask forgiveness for the lives that have been lost; for that there can be no clemency…”. An audible gasp went through the crowd, as Godric kneeled in front of me. “I am sorry”.

“What the fuck is this, Godric?”, Stan growled. “This is not what we agreed on”. Godric ignored him. “Will you stand with me, as I proclaim this conference open – not as a lower being; but as an ally?”, he asked me. I gazed towards Eric, who had an unreadable expression on his face. He wasn’t going to tell me what to answer, as I was about to represent all humankind to these vampires “I… will”, I said, my voice shaking. Godric smiled warmly, and got on his feet; taking my hand, and raising it in the air. “I now declare this conference in session”.

The music was turned up, covering the sounds of the disgruntled murmuring among the attendees. Godric let my hand down, and looked at me. “Thank you, Liv”, he said, and nodded for Eric to come take me away. With an arm around my waist, Eric led me off the platform, and into the house again.

---

I was taken back into Godrics office, where the gifts – save the picture Eric had restored – had been removed from. The photograph of Godric, Eric, and the beautiful dark-haired woman, lay on the desk.

My knees were shaking, and Eric led me to sit in the recliner, where Godric had been greeting guests from earlier. Pam closed the doors behind us. “Seriously, Eric. What the fuck?”, she said. “What the hell is he playing at?”. “Stan was right”, Eric said quietly. “Godric is stepping down… he will have to now”. He punched his fist into the desk, making the glass surface shatter. “Fuck!”. “Did I just almost get eaten?”, I asked. “No”, Eric snarled. “Godric had no intention of feeding from you tonight”. Well, he had already had a taste once, I reminded myself. And I’d tasted him.

The double doors slammed open, and Stan stormed in; Godric and Isabel close behind. “I demand that you pull out of the running for another term as sheriff!”, Stan growled. “That display out there was bullshit!”. “It needed to be done”, Godric said. “We have to start showing respect for our human beginnings”. “It was dangerous, Godric”, Isabel said. “You may have lost many supporters”. Godric smiled softly. “Then it is good there are other candidates”, he said, raising a brow at her. Isabel shook her head. “We’ve discussed this. I am not a viable candidate, after what happened with Hugo”, she said. “Damn right, you’re not”, Stan said. “But what you just did out there, leaves me with a fuckload of cleanup once I’m sheriff, if I’m ever going to convince the other areas that Dallas don’t bend to lesser beings. What’s next? We gonna be hooking up with weres now?”. Godric went to sit by his desk. “You both have meetings to attend. Go on”, he said to his underlings. “I’m not going to let this stand”, Stan said, and left the room with vamp-speed. “Master…”, Isabel began. “Please, Isabel… go see to your meeting”. The brunette nodded, and left the room; closing the doors behind her.

The silence in the room was almost deafening, as Eric stared at his maker. I was about to open my mouth, when I saw Pam shaking her head slightly at me. “Hvarför, Godric?”, Eric muttered. “Eric, I am tired”, Godric said. “I want to step down. I don’t want another term”. “You’re the only one able to keep Stan in check”, Eric said. “Without you, it’ll be chaos!”. “I made my stance on our relations to the humans”, his maker responded. “Isabel will continue on in the track I have laid out”. “If she’s voted in!”, Eric said. “Stan is just as likely to win”.

“Don’t the local vampires vote for their own sheriff? Stan doesn’t seem very likeable; who’d want to vote for him?”, I asked. Pam rolled her eyes at my inability to stay quiet. Godric smiled overbearingly at me. “Sheriffs are officially chosen by the vampire Authority, in a popular vote among its chancellors”, he explained. “The sheriffs all speak their mind on each other, in private meetings with the chancellors”, Eric said. “Per custom, the Authority chose the sheriffs based on these conversations – and based on the chancellors’ preferences”. “So… the sheriffs choose each other, and then some higher authority confirms it? Isn’t that nepotism?”, I frowned. Godric’s smile broadened. “It is… and it is how I have remained in power so long”. “The chancellors always have the last word”, Eric muttered.

I saw Godric run his fingertips over the face of the woman on the picture in front of him. “Who is she?”, I asked. He raised his eyes, and looked at me. “That is not necessary for you to know”, Eric said, his voice almost warning me. “She is Eric’s sister”, Godric said, making Eric clench his jaw in anger. “My daughter; chancellor Nora Gainesborough. She has fought for my reelection for the last 70 years”. My eyes widened in realization. “You did what you did, so you wouldn’t have to be sheriff again!”, I said. “You didn’t mean any of what you said”. Godric shook his head. “No, I meant every word”. “You are forcing her hand”, Eric said. “Nora won’t be happy when she hears about this”. “I know it will pain her, but I cannot continue on as sheriff”, Godric said. “This was the only way… And I could make my stance clear”. “You’ve also made your future as a chancellor a complete impossibility”, Eric said.

“Enough, Eric”, Godric said, his voice instantly making Eric cower. “It is done… Now go. I want to speak to the human alone”. Eric looked back at me, and narrowed his eyes. I drew in a short breath, and shook my head – half in fear, half in confusion. “Why?”, Eric asked. “We have things to discuss, which are private”, Godric said. The Viking clenched his jaw, and tried to steady his voice. “You should know that Liv cannot be glamoured”, he said. “If she wants to share what we speak about with you, that is her choice”, Godric replied. “But I trust I don’t have to command you, to not force her to tell you”. “Of course…”, Eric said. “I have a few meetings to attend to”. “I will make sure Liv is safely returned to the hotel”, Godric said. “You can use my secretary, until she returns”. A middle-aged man stepped through the door, and bowed to Godric. Apparently, Godric didn’t see the need for scantily clad young women, when it came to choosing his staff. Eric gave me a last solemn look, before he and Pam disappeared; leaving me alone with the ancient vampire.

Godric got up to stand. “Will you take a walk with me?”, he asked. “Mind if I take off my shoes?”, I replied.

---

The dew on the grass cooled down the beginning blistering on my feet, as I walked through the yard with Godric. Some vampires were in the process of taking down the platform; but they worked so fast, that soon we were alone under the stars.

“I did not think I would ever see you again”, Godric said. “Likewise”, I said. “I need you to know, I never told anyone”. “I knew you wouldn’t”, Godric said. “And yet, as I see you now, you have the same expression of fear on your face, as you had that night. Was my part of our deal not kept up?”. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Thomas has… He’s been sending me messages. Photographs”. “And you’ve seen him again”, Godric said. “Eric’s gift came from him?”. “Eric doesn’t know about what you did… the deal we made”. Godric nodded somberly. “When you saw him… Did he remember you?”, he asked. “He didn’t seem to”, I said. “And he has a woman with him… I think he hurts her. They’re both on V”. If Godric was the kind of vampire that sighed, it was clear he would have. “There was a chance this might have happen”, he said. “The amount of vampire blood in your aggressor’s body that night, may have made him unable to be fully glamoured. Even by me”. “Is that why you couldn’t glamour me as well?”, I asked. “No, I think there is a different reason for that”, he said.

He gave me a look which reminded me of one I’d seen from Eric. “You don’t think I’m human”, I said quietly. “I think you are nothing but…”, Godric smiled. I sighed deeply. “I know you’re not used to talking to humans, but I need you to be little less… unclear”, I said. Godric didn’t reply, seemingly wanting me to explain. “I don’t understand what you mean by me being nothing but. If you know what I am – what it is that makes vampires unable to glamour me – then tell me”. Godric laughed softly. “I’m being perfectly clear. I believe you are as human as you possibly can be”, he said. “I sensed it the moment I smelled your blood. You are pure”. “So, there’s nothing else in me as well?”. “No. Nothing”, he said. “Then, why can’t I be glamoured?”, I asked. “Because of that very reason”, Godric replied. I still didn’t understand his words, but couldn’t think of a way to rephrase my question in a way that would get me a clearer answer.

We walked on for a few minutes. Godric didn’t seem like the type to speak more than necessary, but he seemed willing – even enthused – to speak to me. “You seemed unhappy that Eric gave me his blood”, I said. Godric frowned slightly. “When he did, it was to create a blood-bond with you, wasn’t it?”, he asked. I nodded. “When I gave you mine, it was to heal you. I admit my reason for helping you wasn’t exactly noble; but I wasn’t trying to seduce you”. I instantly blushed. “Eric isn’t really the healing kind, I suppose”, I muttered, and absentmindedly put my fingers to the fang-marks on my neck. “He’s marked you as his, even if you are not”, Godric said, a slight distaste in his voice. “He’s always been…”. “Possessive?”, I said. “Not the word I would use”, Godric smiled. “He doesn’t usually have problem sharing humans as meals or sexual partners. But when he’s set his mind on having something for himself, he is not one to give up”.

We’d come back to the house, and I pulled at some grass with my toes. “I guess he’s had many”, I said; once again without earning a response. “Humans, I mean”. “He’s had a millennium to feed on all the humans he wished; it took me 200 years to teach him how to avoid killing his prey”, Godric said. “But he has not had many he called his own. His sister was one, before she contracted the plague, and Eric brought her to me to be turned”. “Nora…”, I said. “Who was she to him?”. “Sister… lover… Vampire relationships can be many things”, Godric said. I had to keep my jaw from dropping. “You find this… wrong?”. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Your ways are just… very different”. Godric couldn’t help but laugh a little at my statement. “After more than 2000 years being what I am, your ways are also very foreign to me”, he said. “I hope to learn”.

Once we were back in the house, I chewed my lip for a moment, before getting the courage to ask my next question. “You don’t think your glamour on Thomas took?”. I didn’t want to offend the ancient deadly vampire, by calling him impotent as I had Eric. “If it didn’t, we might both have a problem”, Godric said. “What happened that night could turn out to…”. “Bite us both in the ass”, I said. “Pardon the pun”. Godric laughed again. “I understand why Eric has taken a liking to you”, he said. “Speaking of which… I did not only ask for your secrecy for my own sake, but also for his. Both Nora, Eric, and his progeny, Pam, could be in danger from the authority; if it is revealed what I did”. “I understand”, I said. Godric raised his brows at me. “You do?”, he asked disbelievingly. “No”, I admitted. “I don’t really understand your rules or… laws, or whatever”.

I tugged at the hem of my dress, to cover up some. One of the vampires that had stayed behind to clean up after the ceremony, was looking hungrily at my thighs. “I’d think helping me was a good thing, seeing as you’re trying to improve your relationship with humans”. Godric shook his head. “California is what is called a dry state. Biting a human is illegal by your laws there; and heavily frowned upon in our statutes. Though there are those of us who do not believe in following human laws, the official stance on it, is that we are to mainstream, and follow them. To add to that, I gave my ancient blood to a human that has no known value to our community”. I scoffed. “That’s me. No Value Sally”, I muttered. “Can’t even rhyme for shit”.

Godric took me by surprise, by putting a hand on my cheek. Where Eric’s touch was cool, Godric’s was in fact cold; reminding me I hadn’t seen him feed all evening. “You have more value than you can comprehend”, he said. “I admit, that if you didn’t, I might not have helped you that night. I was selfish. Your blood spoke to me – to my memory of different times – and I wanted to taste it. What that man was doing to you, would have killed you; and I would not have had the pleasure”. “You could have just waited until I was dead”, I said. “I do not require much blood to survive”, Godric said, and removed his hand from my cheek. “But what I take, I prefer to be from live, willing donors. I did not wish to make our encounter different. I don’t wish to kill any human”. “What would happen to you, if it came out what happened?”, I asked. “Usually, the vampire that committed the crime would be defanged. In my case – with my age and knowledge of our laws – the punishment would be much more severe; to set an example”. “True death”, I whispered. Godric nodded solemnly.

The vampire who had been admiring my thighs, stepped forwards, and bowed his head to Godric. “Sheriff, your meeting with 16 is in an hour”. Godric nodded. “Liv… Thank you for speaking with me”. I shrugged embarrassedly. “You didn’t really get anything from me. I mostly just asked you questions”. “Your conversation and bluntness has been a gift in itself”, Godric smiled. “Let me walk you out to the car”.

Eric had left behind the sedan for me; probably having flown back to the hotel himself. “Can I ask you one final question?”, I said to Godric, as we stood in front of it in the driveway. He didn’t respond, which I took as a yes. “Why would Eric and Pam be in danger from knowing about what happened? And Nora, if she’s a part of the Authority…?”. Godric frowned slightly. “Eric would be obligated to turn me in to the Authority”, he said. “And he’d feel honor-bound to me to not do so. At one point or another, the truth will come out; and if he is revealed to know of my crime, he’d be sentenced alongside me. He would fight, and he would die. Pamela would go down along-side him… And Nora… Having a criminal maker, could take away her position as chancellor”.

I got into the limo, and gave Godric a final smile. “I’ll stay quiet”, I said. “To protect Eric”, Godric said. I frowned. “Yes… But also, for you”, I said. “You saved my life. I owe you”. “You already paid me back”, Godric smiled. “You let me have your blood”. “Still… Thank you”. Godric nodded in response, and closed the door of the limo.

I sunk down into my seat, and sighed heavily. Eric would want answers when I returned to the hotel.

---

Pam had sent me a message, letting me know to go to a conference room in the hotel. I quickly changed into more conservative clothes – the tight pants and top I’d planned on wearing for the party the night before – and grabbed a quick dinner of a granola-bar from the mini-fridge; before rushing to meet up with her and Eric. They were already seated by a long table; and Eric gave me an approving once over, before nodding for me to stand by the other humans by the wall – one of them being Javier, who’s cheeks were pinker than they’d been the night before. Though disgruntled about being placed in the corner like a piece of furniture – again – at least I’d worn flats this time, and wouldn’t have to worry about falling over where I stood.

Around the table, two other sheriffs and their deputies were sat. One of them was Carl, and the other was a striking woman – striking, mostly due to her overbite. I wondered if her fangs stuck out like her front teeth did, when they were exposed. I must have been very obvious in my speculating – maybe due to my biting my lip – because Pam gazed up at me, and nodded. I stifled a grin.

“If you gentlemen don’t mind, I haven’t eaten all night”, Overbite said, and gestured at a nearby table set up with bottles. “I ordered TruBlood for us all”. The two other human secretaries went over to grab bottles for their bosses, and I followed in their tracks. I let my hand travel over the bottles, looking covertly back at Eric, who nodded slightly, when I got to a bottle of AB negative. Expensive taste, I thought to myself, and grabbed two bottles for him and Pam; before heading back to them, to set them down. I didn’t get a thank you from either vampire, but felt Eric’s hand ghost the back of my thigh, sending shivers down my spine. I went back to stand by the wall.

“Let’s keep this short and sweet, shall we?”, Carl said. “I have some Argentinian twins waiting in my room”. “Well, you were the one to call for this meeting between our areas; why don’t you start it off?”, Overbite said. “Relax, Rose”, Carl said. “It’s nothing as serious as that”. “Then what is it?”, Eric said. Carl sat back in his chair. “My salons”, he said. “I’m thinking of branching out into other states. Specifically, Louisiana and Florida. Humans in your states seem very keen on getting the right… shade”. For a moment, I stood in confusion. “There are enough spas in Florida as it is”, Overbite – or Rose – said. My jaw almost dropped to the floor, when I realized Carl handled in tanning-salons. It struck me as quite counter-productive for a vampire. “We do spray tans as well”, Carl said. “Quite popular among local vampires in California”. Pam seemed intrigued for a moment.

“What’s in it for us?”, Eric said. “Half off on treatments”, Carl smiled. “You could do well to freshen up that pasty Scandinavian hue”. Pam laughed in the sarcastic was only she could. “You want to impose on Eric’s territory without paying for the privilege?”, she said. “Fat chance”. Eric gave Pam a short look, and she sat back in her chair; taking a sip from her bottle of TruBlood. “I take 50 percent, or co-ownership of all vampire businesses in Area 5”, he said. Now I knew where his money came from. “Same for me”, Rose said. Carl shook his head. “That’s out of the question”. “Then this meeting is over”, Eric said, and made to stand.

“20 percent”, Carl said. Eric halted. “40”, he retorted. Carl grimaced. “25…”. Eric smiled overbearingly. “30. And 10 percent ownership”, he said. “Carl, there’s never been a vampire business in Area 5 that has survived its first month; without my support”. “Because you’ve had the buildings burned down”, Rose said, raising a brow at him. Eric shrugged.

Carl clenched his jaw, before slamming his fist into the table. “Fine… But you handle finding locations”, he said. “Already have a few in mind”, Eric smiled. “Send your plans to my email. We’ll be in touch”. So, vampires had email addresses; I realized. “Will do”, Carl said, his expression turning back to smiling. “Rose?”. The third sheriff thought for a moment. “I’m sure we could come to a similar understanding with Florida”, she said. Eric got up to stand, and Pam followed. “Well, then I guess this meeting is adjourned”.

Eric and Pam nodded at the other vampires, but Rose didn’t move. “I’d like to have another word with you Carl. If you don’t mind…”. Carl shrugged. “Of course”, he said. “But we must follow the statutes. Eric, we will need your human as witness; unless you can spare your deputy…?”. “I need Pam with me. We have Area 2 coming up”. The other vampires nodded.

Eric went over to stand in front of me. “I’ll see you in our suite later”, he said; before looking at me meaningfully. “Do your job”. I nodded. Eric was telling me one of the vampires he was leaving me with, would probably try to glamour me to forget what was about to be discussed. I was also about to be alone in a room with completely strange vampires – one of which had made it clear he wouldn’t mind a taste of my blood. Eric seemed to realize this himself, because he seemed reluctant to leave. “I’ll be fine”, I whispered, trying to convince the both of us. He nodded shortly, and grazed my jaw with his knuckles, before following Pam out of the room.

After a few moments, Javier checked the door to see that no one was listening in; and nodded back towards Carl and Rose, before returning to his post by the wall. “This conversation will be off the record”, Rose said. “Of course”, Carl said. “Nothing will leave this room. What can I do for you?”. Rose sat up straight in her chair. “Stan is moving for the sheriffs post in 9”, she said. “That’s no secret…”, Carl said. “And he’ll have it, after that shit Godric pulled tonight”. “Not if Isabel decides to run”, Rose said. “After her human betrayed us like he did? Not likely”, Carl scoffed. “More likely than you think. Her maker is chancellor… And she’ll continue in the track Godric has laid out”.

Both vampires looked intently at each other for a long moment. “You want me to push for Stan to win”, Carl said. “We need as many as possible to do so”, Rose nodded. “If we have enough sheriffs behind Stan, we can force the Authority to make the right choice”. “And Stan is the right choice?”. “Area 9 has sway over the surrounding areas. They follow where 9 leads”, Rose said. “Even Northman listens when Dallas speaks”. Carl chuckled, and shook his head. “Only because Godric is his maker”, he said. “And you still haven’t told me why Stan is the best candidate”.

“This is why!”, Rose growled; grabbed her bottle of TruBlood, and threw it at the wall next to me. The liquid sprayed across the wall, and on me. I made sure not to move; though my knees were shaking. “Ever since we came out into the open among the humans, we have been living like culled animals. We shouldn’t have to take our nourishment from a bottle, when there are cattle walking about; fresh for the reaping!”. Humans were the cattle, I gathered. “That is a dangerous opinion to have in the open”, Carl said. “And feeding from willing humans isn’t illegal”. “Human law should not apply to us!”, Rose snarled. “It’s demeaning to let them consider themselves our equals… When I want to feed, I feed. You don’t ask the cow whether it wants to be butchered!”. There she went with the cattle references again. I was beginning to feel a knot growing in my stomach, and kept my eyes hard on a speck of the spilt TruBlood, on the toe of my shoe.

“You think making Stan a sheriff will make a difference in that matter?”, Carl asked. “He will set the tone for a different relationship with the humans”, Rose said. “And as I said, where Dallas leads…”. “The surrounding areas follow”, Carl said. “That won’t change the stance taken by the Authority on vampire/human relations”. “Fuck the Authority!”.

Carl’s jaw dropped. “Rose… that is treason”. Rose clenched her jaw; a strangely amusing sight, due to her overbite. “What are they good for, anyway? All they do is sit and drum out guidelines and rules they don’t even follow themselves”. She leaned forwards. “Once we’ve gotten Stan elected, I say we create our own set of rules for all of the southern states”. “You’re talking civil war…”, Carl said. The other vampire shrugged. “If it comes to that”.

Carl seemed to shrink in his seat a bit; his flamboyant demeanor no where to be found. “I don’t know if we’re on the same page”, he said. Rose gazed over at Javier. “You can’t be serious… Don’t tell me warm dick is clouding your judgement”, she said. I was finding it harder and harder to keep my composure; I wanted to run screaming from the room. I noticed Javier swallowing hard next to me. “Leave Javi’ out of this”, Carl said. “I wouldn’t dream of touching your pet”.

The two vampires were quiet for another moment, before Rose spoke again. “We have an opportunity to create a new future for our kind. I’m just asking you to stand on the right side of history. You know I’m right; you have always been one to take what you wanted. It’s in our nature”. “We’re not animals”, Carl said. “No, but we could be gods; if we just take what is ours”, Rose said. “I’ll give you some time to think it over, but you should know, the wheels are in motion; whatever happens from the Authorities side. We want to keep this civil, but if they make the wrong choice, we do have a contingency plan. We’re not going to sit idly by, as Isabel drags the south into the mud along with the blood-bags Godric calls allies”. “And if Godric doesn’t step down? If he runs for another term, he will be chosen”, Carl said. “He won’t… even if he does, we have ways to take him down”. “Like what?”.

A smile ghosted Rose’s face. “You know as well as me, that sheriff Godric isn’t as squeaky clean as he pretends to be… He has been breaking a few laws himself”. She knew. She might not know the human Godric had broken the laws for was me, but she knew what he’d done. “We’re past that, Rose…”, Carl said. “Are we?”, she smiled. “Talk to Stan… Let him at least try to convince you”. Carl got up to stand. “I’ll talk to Stan”, he said. “For now, I have another meeting”. Rose nodded, and got up herself. “We will need to glamour Northman’s human. You go on, I’ll take care of it”.

After Carl, his deputy, and Javier left the room, Rose walked over to me. I kept my eyes on the floor, until she was right up in my face. “Look at me”, she said. I let my eyes meet hers. “Liv… isn’t it?”. “Yes”, I said. “Liv… You smell… different”. Her fangs popped out, and as I’d figured, they stuck out along with her front teeth. I bit my tongue too keep from giving away the amusement that was mixing with my fear – a confusing mixture of emotions, honestly. I worked hard to let my eyes go blank. “You just heard two vampires discuss business, didn’t you…?”. “Yes…”. “You heard us talking about how sheriff Rockford is going to set up four new spas across my Area. We only talked about that, weren’t we…?”. “Sheriff Rockford is branching out in Florida”, I said. “And then we toasted in TruBlood, that you served us. But you were clumsy, and dropped a bottle; making it spray all over the room, and on yourself”. “I was clumsy…”, I breathed. “That was all we spoke about”. “Yes…”. Rose patted my cheek. “Good girl. Now run along”.

I left the room as quickly as I could.

#eric northman #eric northman fic #eric northman x oc #eric northman smut #true blood

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audio-luddite · 3 years ago

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Basics 1.1 Brand Names.

I would like to point out that publications of all types generally do not describe reality. Car magazines discuss Ferraris as if everyone drove them to work or shopping. A very few people do, but they have a huge amount of money and arguably bad judgement as driving around the city in one is just out and out bragging and bad for a vehicle designed to go fast and that is all.

Audiophile magazines and pod casts and YouTube things that portray six figure turntables as even approaching a reasonable solution are full of it too. There is a lot of Ferrari level audio equipment out there.

I stopped reading that stuff a long time ago as it is not part of the real world. It often seems that audiophile stuff is ranked on the internet on price, rarity, and if it has USB connectivity. If you do a Google or Bing Search they will vomit up ads that questionable sources paid for.

I guess I am saying there is damn little useful information out there easy to access to guide you in this hobby. You will have a hard time finding out if there is just GOOD stuff out there. There is but it is behind big clouds of a dense smoke of exaggeration and simple lies.

There is gold, but you gotta dig. You have to know the difference between the gold and pyrite. Most companies making good stuff are relatively small. A few have been taken over by big companies and if left mostly alone can be depended upon. Others are really good at business, but the products are only popular as opposed to good. It helps to know some names.

Many have gone away. Some have come back or never left. There are fans and collectors that drive the prices up, but actually do not use the stuff. The most expensive car out there is too precious to drive and sits in a climate controlled shed. I saw a website for a collector of classic SAE equipment who just cannot use all that stuff. Very impressive, but it should be used, not photographed.

Some have a reputation better than they deserve. Some deserve a better reputation. Here is a trip down my memory lane. I was there.

In the early 70s there was a company called Acoustic Research. To its friends and fans it is just AR. It started out in Cambridge Mass in the 50s. It based its business on a revolutionary speaker design that allowed much better and smoother bass response. The AR-3 is a deserved classic. They kept making good stuff until the 80s and eventually petered out in buy outs and corporate BS. Another product they developed was the AR turntable. Simple, basic, well designed and good. Examples still change hands and can be modified to be pretty damn good by high end standards. A deserved good reputation and worth pursuing.

A descendant of that vision was KLH speakers and eventually ADVENT. Good names for things up to the early 80s.

Another company from Framingham Mass. was BOSE. Started by an MIT professor he developed a speaker that used the walls of your room to reflect sound. The classic 901 had 9 small drivers per channel with one shooting forward and the rest aimed backward. It needed an inline equalizer to correct its poor frequency response. I think it is a poor design. Reviewers were careful to not offend but people who like it like it. Later they made strange and exotic small units that are best considered as equal to a nice clock radio. ( then also made a clock radio.)

They moved into automotive sound, low end consumer audio and public address systems. They are still in business now owned by MIT but nothing they make is high end. Nothing they ever made is high end or really even good by my standards.

Dynaco started in the late 50s and had a good run right through the 80s. They evolved into Halfer and then disappeared into bigger firms ESS and then Panor. Either of those first two brand names can be depended upon for good stuff. Recently both brands have been resuscitated and make a few good, but expensive things.

My big amplifier is a Dynaco.

Harman Kardon also started in the 50s. Mr Harman and Mr Kardon worked for a company called Bogen that made fairly respected electronics and speakers in the Eastern US. The HK Citation line of products was a sophisticated attempt at selling really good stuff for reasonable cost. Both HK and Dynaco sold their products as kits for a time to make it more accessible.

HK still exists as a division of Samsung. They had a weird journey through corporate buying and selling, but still kept a sense of purpose. Any HK product is worthy of respect if taken care of. The Citation 11 preamp and the Citation 12 amp were once SOTA. I have a Harman Kardon Citation 12 amplifier and an HK ST5 Rabco turntable.

Marantz is another firm from the East founded by a Saul Marantz in New York. They made a good reputation on high end stuff and quickly went through several new owners including Philips Corp from the Netherlands. The old stuff up to mid 70s is considered pretty good.

SAE was a California Company started in the 70s with an avowed purpose to make good solid stuff. The designs were from a James Bongiorno who became one of the audio engineering saints. His early SAE amplifiers and preamplifiers made the golden ears sit up and take notice. I have an SAE mk XXX preamp. It is a good solid unit and frankly under priced on the used market right now.

SAE went away, and are now back as a brand selling really big stuff. Amplifiers you could weld with. Not cheap by any means.

Insert angelic choir here.

Audio Research Corporation. Started in the 70s, still going strong but owned by Mcintosh since 2016. Founding visionary was William Zane Johnson another audio saint. A defender and promoter of vacuum tube electronics. I will safely say they never made anything less that great, and most things were SOTA when they came out. They were never inexpensive. There is a decent selection of good stuff for under two grand on the used market, but it gets crazy for the new stuff. My main preamp is an Audio Research SP-12.

There are two things about their stuff you have to be aware of. The first is they voiced the phono preamps to sound good with moving coil pickups starting around the SP9. The input capacitance is too high for most moving magnet or moving iron types. Easy to fix with solder. The second thing is they flirted with all solid state designs for a time. They used fabricated Operational Amplifier units in potted blocks. These units cannot be fixed if they fail. They failed in the market as the fans liked the warm glow of glass and felt betrayed. Eventually there was a compromise with "hybrid" designs. I lust after an SP-9 mk2/3 which is a hybrid.

This is not an exhaustive list. There are other brands and names. These are ones I have personal experience with and can vouch for the value of my opinion.

It is fun to hunt for stuff.

Don't forget to listen!

#cheap audiophile #audio research #classic high end audio #dynaco #SAE preamp #Harman Kardon

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bowieandqueen11 · 6 years ago

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Can we have a soft valentines day plot from Bowie and one from Brian? I love you blog!

Hi! Thank you so much for your request and your kind words, they’re both so cute! I’m going to do them as two separate headcanons posts so I hope you enjoy both!

Brian May Valentines Day Imagine

Standing in the studio, watching on in dismay at the scene in front of him, Brian puts his heads in his hands before suddenly ducking out of the way of one of Roger’s drumsticks as it smacks into the walls behind him. Groaning slightly as he hears Roger and Freddie’s voice raise slightly, heatedly debating who’s going to have a better valentine’s day as John just sits on the sofa behind them, pretending to flick through a magazine but watching the fight intently with a mischievous grin on his face, Brian in his tired state is driven almost to the point of insanity.

However, his eyes flicker to the studio door opening slightly, and transform into glowing orbs, his face completely lighting up into a massive grin as he sees you walking through the door, waving at him hesitantly as you spot Roger trying to knock the drum kit over, but only succeeding in tripping over his own feet and landing on the floor with a thud, much to Freddie, and John’s delight. Brian only shrugs slightly in reply, giving you a sorry look before turning back to his band mates and loudly strumming on the Red Special, the sound coming out of the amp making everyone jump a mile and swiftly turn towards him, almost as if they’d completely forgotten he was there.

‘Right, I’m off. Have a good valentines day idiots,’ Brian says abruptly, before turning on his heel and grabbing your hand, leaving the rest of Queen standing there in shocked, but impressed silence.

As you climb into Brian’s car, he thumps his head against the driver’s seat and huffs slightly, before turning to face you.

‘Thank you for getting me out of there, sweetheart. Now, close your eyes and let me take care of you for once.’

You sit there with your eyes closed, laughing slightly as you feel the car jerk every so often and hear Brian’s huffs of frustration as he tries to find his way through the winding streets. Once you arrive at Brian’s destination of choice, you hear your door click open, and a hand reach down to softly grab your own, gently pulling you out as you stumble onto crunchy leaves, feeling the cool air surround you both. He lets go of you for a moment, and you open your eyes to see him bent down in front of you, laying a blanket down in the most beautiful view you’e ever seen. The blanket sits at the bank of a smooth flowing river underneath a tremendous willow tree, the falling light of the afternoon reflecting off the blue to give it a fairy tale like glimmer, as if it were a mirage. You fall onto the blanket in a daze, as Brian looks at you fondly before jumping slightly, whispering ‘oh’, and using his long legs to run up the grass back to the boot of the car to pull out the bottle of Champagne he’d packed for you both. However, for the moment you’re too in awe of your surroundings to notice.

He walks slowly towards you, treading on the blossoming daffodils and daisies that are starting to reemerge under his feet, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you flat against his chest. He leans down, peppering delicate and tender kisses onto your forehead, his poodle hair falling down against the edges of your face, dusky like the silver glow of the dying afternoon, feathery and curled in the last withering rays of the sun. You place your hands gently against his own, running circles over the tired skin of his fingers, turning your gaze away from the goldeneye ducks that trace soft ripples on the water edge to look at Brian, his eyes intently focused on your own as if lost in your wonder, before he rubs his forehead against yours.

After a moment his eyes open gently, one hand lifting from your waist before it lands flat against your cheek, swirling over the contours of your face before finally tracing the supple outline of your lips. He stares at them intently, humming in contentment before leaning down and placing his own tenderly against them, chuckling slightly against your mouth as your hand automatically entangles in the soft curls of his hair, pulling him down towards you even further.

And as you lie there entangled together, enjoying the tranquillity the orange glow of the sunset allows you both, all your previous worries have transformed into an almost palpable aura of contentment and love.

Thank you for reading!

#queen #queen band #queen imagines #queen imagine #brian may #brian may fluff #brian may valentine #brian may imagine #brian may imagines #brian may x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #john deacon #john deacon imagines #freddie mercury #freddie mercury imagines #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody movie #requested

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savageonwheels · 6 years ago

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2018 Lexus LC 500

Lexus LC 500 breathtaking to see, and drive …

Forgive me while I catch my breath. I just spent a week driving, and drooling over, the new Lexus halo car, the LC 500. If looks could kill, we’d all be dead.

Lexus has created the most striking looking car of the decade, and not surprisingly, it’s a treat to drive. Folks call such handsome hot rods with a tiny back seat grand tourers. They’re not…

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#2018 Lexus LC 500 #5.0-liter V8 #Car & Driver magazine #featured #halo car #hybrid #Mark Levinson audio #PTC #road america #roadster

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cafrealv · 7 years ago

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Honda Accord 2018: Multi-premiado en Estados Unidos

El completamente rediseñado y reinventado Honda Accord 2018, a tan solo tres meses de hacer su debut en el mercado de Estados Unidos, ha recibido una gran cantidad de reconocimientos de varios medios especializados en aquel país, que corroboran que es el mejor automóvil de su segmento. Gracias a todas sus características técnicas avanzadas, su extraordinaria calidad de acabados y equipamiento de…

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#10 Best 2018 #Accord 2018 #Best Buy Awards #Car & Driver Magazine #Honda #Honda Accord #Honda México #Honda Motor Co #Kelley Blue Book #Premios

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bountyofbeads · 5 years ago

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https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-7367511/amp/Prince-Andrew-pictured-inside-paedophile-Jeffrey-Epsteins-63million-mansion-depravity.html?__twitter_impression=true

Sometimes maybe the video does arrive after all.

Was Andrew aware? Did he ask no questions? Epstein had just been released from a prison sentence for abuse, after all.

EXCLUSIVE: Prince Andrew is pictured inside paedophile Jeffrey Epstein's £63million mansion of depravity nine years ago... so how did he miss signs of the billionaire's sexual deviance?

By Caroline Graham In Los Angeles | Sunday21:00 17 Aug 2019, updated 00:22 19 Aug 2019 | Daily Mail | Posted August 19, 2019 9:14AM ET

Duke was spotted peering around the door of the billionaire's Manhattan home on December 6, 2010

The footage of the Duke was taken less than an hour after Epstein left the house with a young blonde woman

Epstein's alleged 'sex slave' Virginia Roberts claims she had sex with the Prince at financier's New York home

Buckingham Palace has denied any wrongdoing on Duke's part and the Queen has showed him her support

Standing by the towering 15ft-high solid oak front door, Prince Andrew gives a nod and a cheery wave to the pretty brunette as she leaves the £63 million Manhattan mansion.

He appears entirely at ease but then, for a split second, glances around the door as if to check that no one had witnessed the brief encounter.

As well he might.

For these exclusive pictures come from a never-before-seen video of the Duke of York staying at the New York home of convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein. And some of the other images caught on camera make for disturbing viewing.

The footage of the Duke of York – then the UK's Special Representative for International Trade – was taken less than an hour after Epstein, who had been convicted of sex with a child in 2008, left the house in the company of a young, shivering blonde woman.

The video was shot on December 6, 2010, during a visit by the Prince to Epstein's nine-storey 21,000 square foot mansion dubbed the 'House of Horrors' by many of his young victims.

By then Epstein – who took his own life last weekend – was on a child sex offender register, yet one observer told The Mail on Sunday that several of the women leaving and entering the home while Andrew was apparently inside 'looked very young indeed'.

The Duke has vehemently denied claims by Epstein's alleged 'sex slave' Virginia Roberts that she had sex with the Prince on three occasions, the first when she was 17 and once at the US millionaire's now-notorious 40-room mansion at 9 East 71st Street in Manhattan, the setting of these pictures.

Her allegations, submitted to a court in 2014, were later thrown out by a judge who ordered them to be struck from the record as 'immaterial and impertinent'.

Since Epstein's suicide last weekend as he faced further child sex trafficking charges, Buckingham Palace has repeated its denial of wrongdoing by the Prince.

'Any suggestion of impropriety with underage minors is categorically untrue. It is emphatically denied that the Duke of York had any form of sexual contact or relationship with Virginia Roberts,' it said.

Any claim to the contrary is false and without foundation.'

The Queen also made a public show of support by allowing Prince Andrew to sit next to her as they were driven to a church service near Balmoral last Sunday.

However, these images are sure to raise fresh questions about the 59-year-old's judgment as they place him inside the private, inner sanctum of Epstein, who continued to abuse young girls even after a controversial 2008 plea deal that saw him serve just 13 months, much of it on day release.

'The Prince looked entirely at ease in Epstein's house,' a source told The Mail on Sunday last night.

'There were girls coming and going. One, who came out of the house with Epstein about an hour before Prince Andrew said goodbye to the brunette, was tiny and shivering.

'It was a particularly cold New York December day. What I remember most is the constant procession of girls and women going to and from the house.

'It was chilling to see. Everyone knew by that point that Epstein was a convicted paedophile, yet he was flaunting his lifestyle in plain sight.

'When the Prince came to the door I was stunned. He looked totally at ease. He said a few words to the girl, who was very pretty, and then she walked off down the street in the direction of Central Park.

'If I hadn't known it was Prince Andrew, I would have thought he owned the place. He looked so comfortable and relaxed as he stood there at the door.

'He didn't appear to have a concern in the world as he smiled and waved goodbye to the girl.

'It was only as the girl walked off that he glanced around the door frame, almost as if to check no one was watching.'

The video was taken less than 24 hours after the Prince was infamously photographed walking through Central Park with Epstein.

He had met the US businessman through Ghislaine Maxwell, the daughter of disgraced tycoon Robert Maxwell and a woman the FBI says is now of 'renewed interest' in its ongoing case into allegations made by scores of women that they were sexually abused by Epstein and his wealthy friends at homes in London, New Mexico, New York and the US Virgin Islands.

Ms Maxwell has repeatedly denied that she acted as a 'madam' for Epstein and has described Ms Roberts's claims as 'malicious lies'.

Epstein's New York home was as weird and twisted as the man himself. The entry foyer where Prince Andrew stood to wave off the brunette was decorated, according to an account by writer Vicky Ward in Vanity Fair magazine, with 'row upon row' of individually framed artificial eyeballs – imported from England.

The video footage shows the initials 'JE' in raised brass letters on the wall next to the front door.

What is not seen is the heating element that Epstein had installed beneath the concrete pavement to melt the New York winter snow.

On a wall in the hall was a bizarre portrait of former US President Bill Clinton in red heels and the infamous stained blue dress worn by Monica Lewinsky when she performed a sex act on him.

Nearby hung a giant painting of Epstein inside a prison surrounded by barbed wire and gun-toting guards.

The disgraced financier reportedly said the artwork was 'to remind me that I could go back to prison any time'.

A chandelier had a 'life-size female doll hanging from it, and one woman who claims to have been assaulted by Epstein said a bathroom had prosthetic breasts on the wall 'so he could play with the nipples as he took a bath'.

Dozens of photographs of Epstein with his famous friends, including Bill and Hillary Clinton, Saudi Arabia's Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and filmmaker Woody Allen, were on display in his study beside a life-size stuffed tiger and a stuffed grey poodle.

One can only wonder how Andrew missed the procession of women or the signs of Epstein's sexual deviance.

Indeed, Epstein's 'pride and joy' was a large 'human chessboard' at the bottom of the main staircase which had customised figurines modelled on his female 'staff members wearing suggestive clothing'.

Then there was the life-size statue of a naked African warrior. Not to mention the 'leather room'.

When the FBI raided the house after Epstein was arrested last month, it reportedly found 'thousands' of indecent images of under-age women on computer hard drives locked in his office safe.

Others have claimed that Epstein had photographs and videos of his famous friends 'engaged in sex acts' which have now been seized by the FBI – prompting conspiracy theories that Epstein was murdered despite official autopsy results released on Friday stating definitively that the cause of death was suicide.

The video obtained by The Mail on Sunday is particularly shocking for the fact that – even two years after his 2008 child sex conviction – Epstein was seemingly flaunting his penchant for young women in plain view and in the middle of one of the busiest cities in the world.

The footage begins just before 2.30pm on December 6, 2010, as two security men leave Epstein's mansion and chat to another security man in a waiting Chrysler.

Epstein's black Bentley arrives in the street about 20 minutes later, shortly before a delivery man from Le Gourmet delivers a parcel.

Shortly after 3.10pm, an unidentified young woman in a red 'beanie' hat leaves the house. She heads in the direction of East 66th Street, where Epstein owned a flat and where, according to some alleged victims, he 'kept' young Eastern European girls as virtual prisoners.

About 25 minutes later, an older, professional-looking woman with blonde hair leaves the house.

One minute later, at 3.35pm, Epstein, wearing a thick white fur-lined winter coat, leaves his property, followed by a young-looking girl dressed in a flimsy grey top. She appears to be carrying his glasses.

In a deeply troubling scene, the blonde-haired woman – who barely reaches Epstein's shoulders – appears cold and shaking as she walks with the millionaire to his Bentley.

Epstein clambers into the back seat as the young woman stands on the street, seemingly being given instructions. An older passer-by glances at the incongruous-looking couple.

After around two minutes, the girl jogs back to the house when she stands on the front step and presses the doorbell, visibly shaking with cold.

It is opened by a professional-looking brunette woman closely resembling Sarah Kellen, Epstein's former assistant whom several alleged victims have dubbed a 'co-conspirator' in Epstein's crimes.

Kellen, who is now married to a US race-car driver called Brian Vickers, has never commented publicly about the Epstein case.

However, she appeared in court during a defamation suit brought by Ms Roberts against Ms Maxwell and 'pleaded the Fifth' when asked about her role in Epstein's sex trafficking scheme.

In America, invoking the Fifth Amendment is a legal term which means you do not have to give evidence that might incriminate you.

At 4.30pm, the door opens and a pretty brunette emerges. She pauses and turns back to the house where Prince Andrew can be seen at the door.

The pair chat for a few seconds before the woman walks away, leaving Andrew to glance up the street before closing the door.

Forty minutes later, as the light begins to fade, another young-looking dark-haired woman arrives at the house.

In an unpublished manuscript released in the US as part of a huge trove of documents related to a defamation suit brought by Ms Roberts against Ms Maxwell, which was subsequently settled, Ms Roberts talks about meeting Prince Andrew in Epstein's New York home.

She gives an account – supported by another alleged victim – of how the Prince sat on a sofa and posed with a Spitting Image puppet of himself.

'When Andrew cupped my breast with a doll made in his image I only giggled away,' she wrote in the book, described in court documents as a 'fictionalised' account of her life.

Last night, the source of the video said they had decided to go public with the footage to encourage further victims to come forward.

'I'm haunted by the shivering young girl who was with Epstein. What became of her?' asked the source. 'Now I'm reading everything that went on inside and know the full horrors of what went on, I'm wondering, was she a victim too?'

This weekend, Prince Andrew was relaxing in the sunshine in Spain on a holiday with his ex-wife Sarah Ferguson.

The source said: 'When the video was taken he looked like a man without a care in the world.

'You have to wonder if that's still the case.'

So many disturbing questions. It’s time Andrew answered them…Royal Author ANGELA LEVIN on how the Prince MUST disclose everything he knows about Jeffrey Epstein

BY ANGELA LEVIN FOR THE MAIL ON SUNDAY

The last time we saw Prince Andrew, he was stepping off a flight to Malaga in the company of his former wife Sarah Ferguson before taking a limousine to the luxury resort of Sotogrande.

Business as usual, in other words.

Andrew will be glad of the chance to get away from it all, no doubt, as friends say he has been unusually stressed of late –and no wonder.

For the 59-year-old is once again in the spotlight over his close friendship with convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein.

Only days before Epstein’s prison suicide, a number of legal documents had been unsealed by the US courts and one of these included lurid allegations about Prince Andrew’s conduct with a 17-year-old girl – something he has always denied.

Last week, his lawyers repeated the same brief formula they have stuck to all along: ‘It is emphatically denied that the Duke of York had any form of sexual contact or relationship with Virginia Roberts. Any claim to the contrary is false and without foundation.’

No doubt they are correct. Yet hiding behind lawyers is no longer enough for Prince Andrew, a father of two daughters and a man who holds a pivotal place in British national life.

Day by day, the evidence of Epstein’s nauseating crimes mounts up – and the true extent of Andrew’s friendship with Epstein grows ever clearer.

The shocking video evidence in today’s Mail on Sunday makes it all-too-plain the Prince remained on friendly terms with Epstein even when it was obvious just what sort of man he was.

This was no brief acquaintance.

They had known each other for some time, ever since Epstein’s former lover and alleged fixer Ghislaine Maxwell introduced them in the 1990s.

The Prince became a regular guest at Epstein’s celebrity-filled dinner parties in Manhattan and, as their friendship grew, the invitations were returned.

In June 2000, Epstein and Ghislaine attended the Dance of the Decades, a spectacular party at Windsor Castle hosted by the Queen to mark Andrew’s 40th, Princess Anne’s 50th, Princess Margaret’s 70th and Prince William’s 18th birthdays.

In the autumn of that year, Andrew flew to New York and attended a Halloween ‘hookers and bondage’ party in Manhattan, where Ghislaine dressed as a prostitute.

In December of the same year, Andrew threw a birthday bash for Ghislaine at Sandringham, which Epstein attended before all three went to Phuket in Thailand, to celebrate the New Year.

Andrew was snapped sunbathing on a yacht with topless young women.

The criminal nature of Epstein’s interest in very young women became clear when this newspaper revealed the shocking case of Virginia Roberts, who says she had been recruited to work as a 15-year-old masseuse for Epstein and had been treated as the billionaire’s ‘sex slave’.

There is an infamous photograph from early 2001, believed to have been taken in Ghislaine’s Belgravia home, which shows Andrew with his arm around the bare midriff of Ms Roberts, while Ghislaine is grinning in the background.

It is all the more worrying, then, that Ms Roberts – who is now a mother of three living in Australia – claims she witnessed Epstein having sex with underage girls on a daily basis.

Still worse, Ms Roberts has alleged Epstein ‘forced’ her to have sex with Andrew in London and on two other occasions when she was 17.

There has been no claim that Andrew was aware she had been acting under duress – and in any case he denies that any such incidents happened at all.

It is important to stress also that an American judge threw out the allegations against the Prince and ordered them to be struck from the record as ‘immaterial and impertinent’.

In another of the witness statements now open to the public, alleged Epstein victim Johanna Sjoberg claims Andrew touched her breast while sitting on a couch at Epstein’s New York apartment in 2001.

The Prince continues to vehemently deny all such claims, but what is beyond doubt is that shortly after Epstein was released from jail for child sex offences, his old friend came to stay.

A now familiar photo of the pair strolling through Central Park showed a level of misjudgment which we simply would never expect from our Royals.

The MoS’s exclusive clip of Andrew grinning as he waves goodbye to an unidentified brunette from behind Epstein’s oak door underlines just how close the pair were.

In the minutes before Andrew appears at the door, women are seen coming and going from the mansion – many of them questionably young in appearance.

Was Andrew aware? Did he ask no questions? Epstein had just been released from a prison sentence for abuse, after all.

It has been reported Epstein paraded his sexual perversions in his homes with naked photos of young girls and soaps in the shape of male and female genitals. Did Andrew see any of this? If so, why did he continue the friendship?

It is clear there are serious questions that need answers – and it’s high time we heard them. The Duke of York is not an ordinary citizen, but a senior Royal and father to two grown-up Princesses.

He was made Britain’s special trade representative on his retirement from the Royal Navy, a post he still held in 2011 when the MoS first exposed his friend. Andrew remains Commander and honorary Vice Admiral of the Royal Navy.

These enormous privileges bring great responsibility – but they don’t seem to have had much effect on his social behaviour.

Instead he has garnered a reputation for a self-indulgent lifestyle that includes meetings with unsavoury Middle Eastern tyrants and potentates. He seems to lack self-awareness and appears unconcerned that his actions risk grave damage to the Royal Family.

Sarah Ferguson has said: ‘We really believe in being good parents for our girls. In our every day [life], we really respect each other and honour each other.’

Yet her former husband seems unable to see any disconnect between standing proudly in morning dress for the wedding of his daughter Eugenie last October and the seedy friendship with a criminal abuser he would rather not discuss.

Why has he got such a high-handed and reckless attitude?

His childhood might help explain. Born in 1960, Andrew quickly became an adored second son, one who the Queen hoped would stabilise her marriage. It was said at the time Philip felt constrained by Royal life and that the relationship was tense.

But Andrew’s arrival did the trick. It also tied in with the Queen’s wish to be a more involved mother. She even wrote to her cousin Lady Mary Cambridge: ‘The baby is adorable. All in all, he’s going to be terribly spoilt by all of us I’m sure.’

Perhaps this was a sort of compensation for her earlier strictness with Charles. But the result has been unfortunate: Andrew behaves as though he is free to do exactly as he chooses.

Does he not know how shocking his friendship with Epstein appears? It is time for the Duke of York to accept the serious misjudgment he has made and co-operate with authorities to disclose everything he knows about Epstein’s lifestyle and actions.

Has he contacted the police in Britain or America to try to help shed light on what by any standards was a horrific series of crimes committed by his former friend? It’s impossible to know because Buckingham Palace refuses to say.

But if he hasn’t, he should. The alternative is to try yet again to bury it in soft sand, to hide away and, like a coward, hope his 93-year-old mother will make things better.

#jeffrey epstein #epstein case #uknews #uk #royal #the royals #royal family #sex trafficking #sex crimes #uk news #united states department of justice #u.s. department of justice #us news #us politics

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jolieflows · 3 years ago

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—Solo—

“What qualities do you look for in a film?”

Angelina's mind was circling around that question. The interview with The Rolling Stones Magazine had been going on for approximately an hour. She was, however, unsure whether her response was sufficiently clear. What was it that she was looking for? Her choice of characters and films was clearly made with the help of her agent and herself. What, on the other hand, lured her to Lisa Rowe? Was it the same as Amelia? Gia?

Her elbow leaned against the wooden seat; it made a tranquil squeak as her lips pressed together a delicate sigh. The inquiries proceeded — before Angelina knew it, she had finished the interview.

Where to next? Her trailer sat between two incredible celebrities. ‘A dropped in on party’ is the way Angelina felt. She was vigorously moving into the major leagues with her movies. It resembled a bleary eyed dream nearly. However, the main thing that she was amped up for was the arrival of her mom.

Her mom, had gotten back to the States. Subsequent to spending, God knows how long on her profound excursion in Cambodia. Missing her mom was an extraordinary misrepresentation of reality. Angelina felt nearly lost without her mother close by. Yet, she understood the reason why she had taken the risk to move away and explore.

The way to Angelina's trailer opened. Her brother James showed up; a grin from one ear to another crept along his face. Was now the time? Had her mom, Marcheline arrived? Jumping up from her seat, the actress clamored around the room snatching just the essentials.

“Plane landed two hous ago,” James talked as he got two of Angelina's duffle bags.

Her blonde hair covered a portion of her face as she hung over, getting the scattered magazines she left on the floor. On each set, Angelina dealt with — she ensured each trailer felt like home. Peruser's summary magazines, in style magazines, and scrapbooks loaded with blossom fields and nature. “Two hours? Has Mom just been sitting in the terminal?”

She and James conversed as they walked to the car. For himself and for her, he outlined the future events. Angelina was entirely oblivious to what was going on around her. To see her mother, she was ecstatic! It was imperative that she see her mother and be near her. James tipped his head at the driver as he climbed into the SUV before turning to his younger sister.

She appeared to be drained. Angelina was also restless. As the car drew away, her eyes faded from the low light. She suppressed a yawn, mentally preparing to hug her mother. Their interactions on the phone had always been hasty.

Marcheline— was too preoccupied with expanding her spirit, getting one with nature, and letting go of whatever had been bothering her.

Angelina wouldn't hide her swells of jealousy. She, too, needed to flee her home and travel to Cambodia. Moreover, she would — though it was most likely a future arrangement, it was still an arrangement.

James raised his eyes from the magazine he was reading. “Is Dad on his way?”

That, among the many things to say, may have brought the silence to an end; James had brought up their father. Respected, Mr. Voight. Angelina and her father were not in the best condition. Consistent tension, quarrels, and the overtly passive hostile ways he handled her. It was terrifying. Angelina had spent the majority of her childhood seeking to form a caring relationship with her father. In some ways, they were the closest partners in the beginning, and then came the distance.

“Has he returned from...?”

“Texas. He was in Texas at the time. Don't act as if you don't know—” James mockingly chastised her.

Angelina shrugged callousedly. Was she faking it? Or had she simply had enough of her father's emotional whirlwind? Angelina sighed huffily, her arms folded across her chest. It would be yet another showboating move if her father came to welcome their mother.

;

Angelina and James were able to locate their mother after a few hours of back and forth, deception, and worry. How did she wind up on the other side of the city? It remained a perplexing riddle. Marcheline's belongings were being unpacked upstairs in the rental property by the mother and daughter duo. Angelina, not one for unpacking, rummaged through her mother's pictures and personal essentials tote bag while she played along the bed.

Her mother wore little to no makeup, but she wore a lot of buttons, bracelets, charms, and perfume.

“Is this following the rebirth ceremony?” Angelina inquired, her face lit up with wonder.

The photo appeared to have been taken in the midst of a frenzy of action. The photo's boarders were crinkled, and there were a few pieces of charred residue on the upper corner that had been dog-eared. That just contributed to Angelina's admiration for her mother's photograph. She was joyful and carefree, with the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. Her finely manicured fingernails stroked the photo as her gaze glanced upward to her Marcheline, who returned her nod.

“It was satisfying and refreshing.”

They swapped stories, laughed, and debated about the placement of specific vases and mirrors. Angelina, had never been a fan of interior design. She'd given it her all at home. Angelina's thinking was too jumbled to pay attention to such details. She'd open the windows and doors and let nature take its course if she had her way. Her mother took one hand and stroked Angelina's hair.

“I want to hear everything now that I'm back.”

Angelina snuggled next to her mother. Nothing in the world compared to how complete Angelina felt— it was ecstasy.

“I'm not sure what to say."

“In the last postcard you mentioned, you were getting into photography. Did you bring any pictures?”

Angelina put down whatever she was focusing on and gave it some serious thought. Did she bring any of her pictures with her? If she had, they were in her purse, which had been flung downstairs. Angelina sat up from the bed with a lighthearted shrug, still clutching a few of her mother's bracelets.

The mother and daughter sat silently. They always linked and bonded in this way. Sometimes through laughing or the soothing sounds of quiet. Angelina didn't believe they needed to converse; she was content just being with her mother.

When Marcheline cleared her throat, the quiet reached its pinnacle. Angelina's caresses had faded.

“Have you and Jon spoken it?”

“No.” Angelina's response was succinct. "Do you plan on going to the set tomorrow? If you're as excited as I am, we'll have—”

Marcheline could see why it was necessary to change the subject. In any of the postcards she had sent to her mother, Angelina had not held back. With each postcard, Angelina dug deeper and scribbled her feelings more forcefully about why she thought she and her father couldn't get along right now. Marcheline was well aware that she and Jon would never be the same, but she continually urged Angelina to give her father a second chance.

Angelina hesitated before facing her mother. She did so after mentally preparing herself, laying her elbows in the mattress and offering her mother a blank expression.

Marcheline tried to grin after biting her lower lip. “He's a lot of things, Angie. however, cares about you and Jamie."

Angelina was certain of it. She was, however, fed up with her and her father's combative arguments. It always led to a selection of her choices. In terms of both personal and professional development. Angelina shook her head, her eyes downcast.

“I'm not him.” Angelina licked her lips as she paused. “If he'd understand that, we might, stop trying to kill each other.”

“He would say that.” Marcheline burst out laughing, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Angelina Jolie, too, busted out laughing. She and her mother laughed for the next five minutes, wiping their tears as if it were the funniest thing they'd thought possible. Angelina let out a ragged breath once their laughing faded down. She might, just might, let it go. And she might ask her father to the dinner she and James were throwing to celebrate their moms' return.

Marcheline sifted through the strewn pictures on the bed. Several of Angelina's numerous postcards were among the pile.

“I've seen you through several stages now. You seem a little happier at this point.” Based on the writing, Marcheline made a comment.

Angelina sat up straight and blushed shyly. Her mother had a knack for seeing right through her.

“...In a different mindset.”

Her mother eyed her, in a proud way before reaching out, and bringing Angelina into hug. The hug had more implications. And the tone was deeper and more meaningful. It was a proud hug, not just a "I've missed you" hug. Angelina had always known that her mother was proud of her. Her mother was the most reliable source of support during every stage of her life. They both sniffled and giggled shyly as they rubbed each other's backs at the same moment.

After breaking up their embrace, the two went downstairs to try to unpack and arrange her belongings. Marcheline spoke again as she gently nudged her daughter.

“Did James bring you a dog? He informed me.”

“Mhm! A chocolate Labrador. Almost like our old Tonto.”

“Now you'll think twice about feeding tacos to a dog, right?”

Angelina quickly elbowed her mother back in a fun manner, as if she were 14 all over again. This turned into a game of chase and tag, which she and her mother enjoy doing together.

“You could always higher professionals, to hang up your things. Komm hierher zurück!” Angelina chuckled as she chased her mother.

#angelina jolie #solo writing #roleplay

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pillbug-worm-pillbug · 3 years ago

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I woke up to the sound of the motor humming.

It sounded a lot like the fishtank I kept in my room when I was 10; friends always used to complain about the noise, how it stopped them from sleeping, but I could never hear it - I'd gone deaf to the sound. And then I threw it out, cause all the fish died, little orange bodies floating like bits of backwash in the water.

I tripped over the old amp laying at the foot of my bed built in to the side of the RV. Jamie still hadnt moved it, but then neither had I. I could probably sell it for a decent price, but it's bulking black shape was almost too familiar to part with. This small space filled up quickly, so selling even one thing made a noticable difference, like an old man losing his already sparce teeth or hair.

Illuminated by the ambient glow that came from the dash or the moon or both, Jamie sat, windbreaker ridden up against the driver's seat. He moved rhythmically, checking lights and signals, breath just loud enough to carry across this tiny universe stretched between us.

"Thought you said you were gonna let me sleep, asshole." I said, and sat beside him. Jamie didnt laugh, instead picked at a zit on its chin. There was a thin fuzz of hair ghosting there, like a peach, and I remembered I'd meant to ask Jamie if he was gonna try grow a beard. But I'd forgotten, and now I was supposed to be angry, so couldnt ask.

"I am. Not my fault you're too scared of getting addicted to take those fuckin sleeping pills." He knew where to jab at me so it hurt worst, like my body was litered in open wounds and he could just look at which was freshest and stick a finger in there. Well, it wasnt exactly a closed book either.

"At least I'm scared of being an addict. You seem to smoke pot all day and not have a care in the world. What, you gonna get us into a car wreck while I doze?" He hit me. A half punch, half slap round the right side of my face. His fingertips were warm and smelled of herbs, so I think he'd been smoking.

"God, just go back to bed, Aubrey! Nobody fuckin wants you around anyway. Thats how you got stuck with me." I got up and tripped on the slippery cover of a magazine - probably one of Jamie's gross porn ones. I picked it up and whacked him with it until it turned around.

"The fuck are you doing!?" It yelled. I chewed at the ulser inside my cheek and sat down on the table, accidentally biting through the skin. The yellow light that seemed to linger everywhere in the RV set me in a grimey glow.

"I wanna go back to Nevada." I said, and my voice sounded like a kid. I am a kid. I wanted to cry like one.

Jamie sighed, and sounded old. Old man Jamie. He would have laughed at that. But these were the dark times, so he just switched the motor off and looked at me, eyes little kumquats, yellowed by the lit air.

"No. We cant go back to Nevada. Why the fuck would you even want to back to Nevada?" He tried to sound like a condescending parent, but its confusion and anger got the better of him as he spoke. A small victory. It was no less pissed and sad than I was. And I called that a victory.

"None of your fucking business, cabby. Whatever. Just drive. Drive us off a cliff if you like, or back to whatever fucking crack den you crawled out of. Im going to sleep."

I went back behind the meagre privacy of the divider curtain, whose edges were moth-bitten, and smelt like old booze. I sat down in the bed again, head aching all of a sudden. My feet hurt, and were dry, and my skin was itchy and sweaty under my clothes. Thirst scraped around the inside of my throat and mouth, like when you accidentally breath in flour whike baking. I was too angry to go out and get a drink. I buried my head under my pillow, and wanted my mommy. That stinking rat of a human, I wanted her. I wanted her to hold me in the way adults hold you, the way that tells you: you're just a small thing, stupid thing, you dont have to worry about anything now. I wanted her to make me ring Jamie in the morning and tell it sorry, like when you fought with friends at school. Because I knew I wouldnt do it now. Because it was the dark times, and we didnt do anything accept yell and cry and poke fingers into wounds, licking off the blood like it would teach us how to be kind, or how to smell fear, like horses can. But it didnt.

I got tired of being so sleepy, so I turned myself on enough to reach an unsatisfying climax and ride it's lackluster high down into sleep. A fitful sleep I spent dreaming about the roadhouse grill at the end of my street, where I went on my first date at age 15, for some reason.

#drabble #jamie and aubrey

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indietapes · 3 years ago

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Car Driver - Nothin's Easy (Indie Pop)

🕑 1 min / Text: Franklin B. Release Date: Dez 31, 2021 Not a new release, but still great! This record literally feels like a lofi dream and I actually associate so many things with this beautiful bedroom guitar sound: Cassettes, teenage, videogames and old magazines. Car Driver just released a fantastic new single, titled 'Nothin's Easy' and I'm pretty sure, it will make you feel nostalgic. The warm chorus on the amp, the washed out vocals and the fresh rock drums, will take you straight back to the '90s. Hit the play btton below, can you feel the magic? Melody: ★★★★☆ | Production: ★★★★★ | Arrangement: ★★★★☆ | Energy: ★★★★☆ | Stream: https://open.spotify.com/track/6wNwe5Dk0opE9JEu2XoIJq ✔️ Available on our Indie Playlist on Spotify.

#Indie Pop #Car Driver

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stevesautomotivegalleria-blog · 6 years ago

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How Long Does a Car Battery in a New Car Last?

You rely on your car's battery to start your car every time you turn the key. Whether you are driving to work or just hitting the road for a day of fun, you need to know that your battery is up to the job. Unfortunately, batteries don't last forever, and even new car batteries will eventually need to be replaced.

How long should the battery in your vehicle last? The answer isn't always straightforward, and in many cases, it isn't as long as drivers think it should be.

Car Battery Lifespan and What Causes Batteries to Fail

The average life expectancy of a car battery is three years or so, but there are several factors that can have an impact on that estimate. Even under the most ideal conditions, chemical reactions cause batteries to break down, and your vehicle will likely need a new battery within a few years.

Though car battery problems are often associated with cold weather, Consumer Reports magazine says heat is a bigger enemy of car batteries and will take a bigger toll on performance and reserve capacity. Heat can also decrease a battery's lifespan significantly. Hot weather causes liquids inside batteries to evaporate as well as internal damage. This can occur whether you are driving or if the car is parked. The magazine recommends that vehicle owners in hotter parts of the country have their car battery tested after two years of ownership and then every year after. Those who live in colder areas can wait four years after buying a car to test performance and capacity, then every year after.

"Heat kills car batteries," according to John Banta, a Consumer Reports project leader and part of the team that tests batteries for the magazine. "Many times in cold climates, your battery fails to start your car on a below-freezing day. The reason this happens is that the heat of the past summers has weakened your battery. When you use it in the cold, the starter requires more electrical current to turn over the cold engine with its thickened oil."

Leaving your car parked or stored for long periods of time can also lead to a dead battery that you will need to recharge before heading out for a drive.

Testing a battery's performance and reserve (or amp-hour) capacity is not just a matter of seeing whether it will hold a charge (or checking the electric eye found on some batteries to see if it is green), so testing is best done by an auto technician at a repair shop. A professional can also determine if any problems you are having may be caused by something else, like your battery terminals or alternator. If a bad battery is the culprit, your mechanic will help you choose and install an appropriate replacement.

More Here:

https://www.cars.com/articles/2013/03/how-long-does-a-car-battery-in-a-new-car-last/

#Steves Automotive #Mechanics #Auto

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stoweboyd · 7 years ago

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Work Futures Weekender - Postnational in the Postnormal?

The top 1% will hold 64% of the world’s wealth by 2030?

2018-04-08 Beacon NY - Rana Dasgupta, the award winning novelist and journalist draws a deeply unsettling portrait of our time in The demise of the nation state, where he lays out the collapsing ideal of a world of nation states giving way to a post-national mess defined by broken power systems, kleptocracies, and tens of millions of refugees who are effectively stateless, and outlawed by the developed world. Other research projects that the wealthiest 1% will own two-thirds of all wealth by 2030.

After cataloging the chaotic dumpster fire the world has become, he says we can fix things, but it won't be easy:

This is not a small endeavour: it will take the better part of this century. We do not know yet where it will lead. All we can lay out now is a set of directions. From the standpoint of our present, they will seem impossible, because we have not known any other way. But that is how radical novelty always begins.

The first is clear: global financial regulation. Today’s great engines of wealth creation are distributed in such a way as to elude national taxation systems […], which is diminishing all nation states, materially and symbolically.

[…]

Second: global flexible democracy. As new local and transnational political currents become more powerful, the nation state’s rigid monopoly on political life is becoming increasingly unviable. Nations must be nested in a stack of other stable, democratic structures – some smaller, some larger than they – so that turmoil at the national level does not lead to total breakdown.

[…]

**Third, and finally: we need to find new conceptions of citizenship. **Citizenship is itself the primordial kind of injustice in the world. It functions as an extreme form of inherited property and, like other systems in which inherited privilege is overwhelmingly determinant, it arouses little allegiance in those who inherit nothing.

Dasgupta is preaching a new global system, a vision of a postnational world.

On the eve of its centenary, our nation-state system is already in a crisis from which it does not currently possess the capacity to extricate itself. It is time to think how that capacity might be built. We do not yet know what it will look like. But we have learned a lot from the economic and technological phases of globalisation, and we now possess the basic concepts for the next phase: building the politics of our integrated world system.

Where do I sign up?

And more cogently to my focus here: what does this mean to the way we think about work, and our place in the world?

On Performance Reviews

Jinseok Chun, Joel Brockner and David De Cremer wrote the aptly named People Don’t Want to Be Compared with Others in Performance Reviews. They Want to Be Compared with Themselves. People hate performance reviews. Hate. I am using the word hate, here.

According to a survey of Fortune 1,000 companies done by the Corporate Executive Board (CEB), 66% of the employees were strongly dissatisfied with the performance evaluations they received in their organizations. More strikingly, 65% of the employees believed that performance evaluations were not even relevant to their jobs.

This is unfortunate considering the amount of resources that organizations devote to conducting performance evaluations. CEB research says that when we take into account how much money organizations are investing in their performance appraisal technology and how much time managers are spending to evaluate their employees, on average U.S. organizations spend $3,000 per year, per employee. This implies that billions of dollars are spent across the country because more than 90% of American companies provide performance evaluations at least once a year.

Why are employees so frustrated about the way they are evaluated, despite all the time and money being spent on these evaluations? What are organizations missing? We believe that one clue lies in the fact that 71% of the American employees thought that their evaluations had problems in the domain of fairness.

The authors ask the right question: what are the specific things that organizations can do to increase perceptions of fairness during the process of performance evaluations?

People are much more likely to find reviews fair is they are based on the employee's own past performance, showing progress over time, as opposed to comparing the worker's performance compared with others in the same period.

On Futurology

David Evans, the former chief futurist of Cisco, lays out his thoughts on being a futurist:

I often get asked how I predict the future. Let’s be clear: Predicting the future is impossible. In fact, being a futurist is less about predicting the future and more about understanding where the world is now and where it will be tomorrow. (Feel free to ditch those crystal balls.) It’s impossible to exactly predict how technology will impact our lives 10, 20, and even 30 years from now. However, there are several proven techniques that narrow down the countless possibilities to prognosticate a probable future.

His techniques (which are mine, too):

Read. A lot.

Apply proven principles like Metcalfe's Law, Moore's Law, Cooper's Law: Avoid linear extrapolation, expect exponential change.

Backcasting, or looking backward to look forward. Evans lays out a situation, like the idea of flying cars:

Consider a future world in which flying cars are everywhere. “What steps are needed for the vision to become reality in the future?” Now come back to the present and think about all the things that would be required for flying cars to be developed and used effectively. Such a list could include vehicle costs, air traffic control considerations, energy sources, acceptable flying ranges, take off and landing requirements, safety of “drivers” and the public, collision avoidance technology, networking and computing systems, and alternative solutions.

Next, determine the viability and timeframe of each consideration. The information created from this analysis form a picture of whether or not flying cars are possible–and if so, when.

I like this Marshall McLuhan quote, that sort of lines up with Evans' technique:

We look at the present through a rear-view mirror. We march backwards into the future.

We can’t know the future, especially today in the postnormal era: the new normal is there is no normal. But next year is unlikely to be like the last one.

Remember that when we look into McLuhan’s rear-view mirror we are seeing ourselves just as much as the road behind. And walking backwards into the future means we have to sense our way, cautiously stepping backwards and listening for the echoes.

Quote of the Day

The fact that a question is unsettling is not a justification for avoiding it.

| Jeff Sebo, Should Chimpanzees Be Considered ‘Persons’?

On Automation of Policing

This could be spinned as some chilling tale of surveillance, but I prefer to think of it as augmenting inadequate police resources in increasing public safety. Daniel Oberhaus reports on China Is Using Facial Recognition Technology to Send Jaywalkers Fines Through Text Messages:

Emblematic of this unprecedented surveillance apparatus are the facial recognition devices deployed in Shenzhen last April that are meant to deter jaywalkers. These devices take photos of offenders and display them on large LED screens above the intersection, along with their name and part of their government ID number. (There is also a website showing photos and information for jaywalkers in Shenzhen.)

Now Intellifusion, the Chinese artificial intelligence company behind these devices, is taking them a step further by partnering with mobile carriers and social media platforms such as WeChat and Sina Weibo to send text messages directly to offenders as soon as they are caught jaywalking by the cameras.

Since implementing the devices, Chinese traffic police have identified nearly 14,000 jaywalkers at a single Shenzhen intersection alone, according to the South China Morning Post. Moreover, Chinese officials claim that the devices have lowered the number of jaywalkers in the city.

I'm still waiting for the headgear that tells me the names of people that I have been introduced to, and can't recall their names. Of course, this week we can't talk about how Facebook could provide that service for us.

Question or comment? (Can be private, or public: your choice. I occasionally publish public comments or questions.)

Follow me on Twitter.

More media, politics, and social commentary on stoweboyd.com, including bio.

#performance reviews #chinese surveillance #jeff sebo #dave evans #futurism #rana dasgupta #Work Futures Daily

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taww · 7 years ago

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Show Report: AXPONA 2018 by MGD

I’m deeply honored to share this show report by my old friend and audio mentor Martin DeWulf. Marty, or MGD, founded Bound for Sound magazine back in 1989, and quickly became a major voice in the subjectivist high-end scene. More personally, he was hugely influential in my formative years as an audiophile. Back when I was a broke music student, he responded to my letter asking for affordable recommendations by sending me my first speakers, a pair of Tannoy bookshelves. Later he brought me on as a staff writer and taught me most everything I know about this crazy hobby. I’m forever grateful for his support and guidance over the years.

Marty had to stop publishing several years ago due to serious health issues, and after a long hiatus it was wonderful to hear from him again. He stopped by the AXPONA audio show in Chicago in April, and shared this thoughtful and touching account. Marty, it’s great to have you back.

It had been approximately 9 long, cold years since I had attended an audio show of any kind. There had been a time when audio and the trade shows were an indispensable part of my life…I went to at least one show a year for over 26 years. So, it was a decision of monumental proportions when I decided that I would go to AXPONA 2018. It would mean putting my cane away and driving to the Chicago area (Schaumberg). Worst of all, it would mean talking my wife, Laura, into going with me. I couldn’t go it alone and she is not a fan of audio shows.

MBL, VAC, Walsh HHR

Unfortunately, the illness that has been so much a part of my life for the last 9 years could not be totally cast off for even a day, not entirely anyway. My wife knew how much being there meant to me, so I begged her indulgence and promised her the moon in return…how could she not bend to my persuasion? She agreed to go once I plied her with chocolate. Laura even agreed to drive. We found the hotel with ease and made our way inside after putting the handicap placard in the window of our car. Once in the front door it smelled like audiophiles wearing cheap cologne and Burkenstocks. I started seeing people that I hadn’t seen in almost a decade. Paul McGowan was first to go by, I recognized him, but I don’t think he remembered me … just a big guy looking lost and a bit out of breath. Turning my attention down the hallway I spotted Richard Vandersteen. Not that many years ago (the middle 1970s but it seems like yesterday to me), Richard made his way to his first CES with a pair of Model II speakers under his arm, after which, and for good reason, he became an almost overnight audio sensation. Again, I wasn’t recognized, but he did smile nicely at my wife.

The longer I was there, the more those old feelings of purpose and belonging started coming back. As some of the pain that kept me away for so long started to settle in my back and legs, I knew it was only a matter of time until someone that I knew would turn around and be glad to see me too.

THERE ARE A LOT OF WAYS TO WRITE A SHOW REPORT

Every year in Las Vegas while I was reviewing, there would be a flock of manufacturers in big, fancy rooms setting up systems costing hundreds of thousands of dollars. Sometimes the speakers alone would cost more than a years’ wages, maybe double that - $35,000 for an amplifier, $25,000 for a preamp and another $20,000 for a source component. Put it all in an enormous room, far larger than any real audiophile would want, get lousy sound and then tell everyone how wonderful everything was under the conditions. Conditions!? A system costing over $150,000 should be able to overcome anything you throw at it. I am therefore, out of a sense of fairness, going to put an emphasis on those rooms that were smaller than a basketball court and filled by names which might not be, for the ordinary audiophile, common household names.

WHEN THREE ARE ONE

There were three rooms, which, in my estimation, were ahead of all others for reasons notable and different. Now this is what an audio show is all about!

As a whole, I thought the aggregate sound to be far above anything I’d heard while attending the various CES from 1989 through 2009. I believe some of the praise for the overall sound had to do with the quality of the rooms at the Renaissance convention center…far better than anything I can recall from CES Chicago or Las Vegas. If there was a common failing demonstrated from room to room there, it had to be in the bass. There was plenty of bass, everyone had bass, but save for the very few (that I will mention), the lower the bass went, the more “one-note” it became. Fortunately, by the time the music hit one-note-land it was sufficiently deep that most people wouldn’t even notice the effect.

PranaFidelity, HRT Stage VIII, YG Acoustics, Ayon Audio

There were three rooms that I felt to be well ahead of the others that I heard. Not having heard every room, please don’t view my opinions here as some Biblical truth on everything at the show – it’s not. Except for maybe these rooms:

GamuT: Until this day, I’d never really been a big Gamut fan…well, I am now. The Gamut amp, preamp and speakers (RS7 speakers, $39,000.00) disappeared in the room, but that isn’t what mesmerized me – no, it was the tone and organic texturing which hijacked my sonic expectations, expectations founded on years and years of listening and observing critically. I’m not referring to these things in the normal context of a reviewer writing for his readers. For, I have never, ever heard the human voice reproduced as naturally as it was in this room, and I expect, had you been in the room with me you would feel the same. For the “old audio soldier” who has quite literally “heard it all” and heard it all more than once, I had never before experienced the breathy sensation of life in front of a microphone being played back into a room like it had been that day. It was uncanny and, need I say?, lifelike. Extraordinarily, lifelike. Why? Pinning the “why?” on any one component is foolish and a sure way to be found wrong when the reason for this wonderful illusion is made manifest. But I should mention this, the components in this “living” room were all perched upon a product named Pneuance and the Pneupods. Feet that one inflates inside an industrial looking metal cup, and then places under the equipment (even the speakers, or so I’m told). Was it the Pneupods? I don’t know, and I suspect that even without the Pneupods the room would still have dropped my jaw multiple inches.

Prana Fidelity: Here we have a speaker that doesn’t cost more than a new Harley Davidson, though it may be just as exciting. Steve Norber is a wonderful human being, but now I suspect he might be an even better audio designer!!! Fed by a Luxman CD player, Steve designed the preamp (purna/ca $5,950.00), the power amp (purna/ma, 400 wpc, $8,950.00) and the loudspeakers (Bhava $4,950.00). The speakers heard that day were a relatively small three driver, two way affair mounted upon sturdy stands by Sound Anchor. Immutable are the laws of physics. A clear understanding of electrical engineering and speaker design might allow a designer to cheat a physical law here or there (something Bob Carver has been a genius at), but, from what I was hearing with these speakers, amp and preamp combo, there appeared to be a complete re-write of the laws of audiology in progress. How did Steve do it? The one note bass in other rooms was not present here. With speakers this size, bass response isn’t generally expected in prodigiously clean amounts, yet, bass from this compact speaker went wonderfully low, and scary loud without the faintest hint of distortion or fatigue inducing colorations. If looking for a speaker in the $5,000 range, I strongly suggest visiting Steve Norber at Prana.

HRT Stage VIII stacked speaker system from Elite AV Distribution: The speaker arrangement was indeed unusual being unique in my experience and very favorably priced. Supported by a distinguished group of backup components those speakers truly sang. Paired with a table that costs more than I’ll ever be able to afford, the beautiful Kuzma Stabi M ($19,225.00), with another $10,000.00 worth of arm and cartridge, feeding a Plinius phono stage, was a dynamo, even explosive at times, making some of the hottest vinyl of the ‘70s seem on fire. But the speakers were the attention getters in this room. A pair of HRT speakers will set you back $650.00. That’s not a typo. What Elite did, something most audiophiles would not think of doing, was stack multiple pairs of the HRT speakers one upon the other. I haven’t seen someone do that since the hot audiophile trick of stacking large Advent speakers one upon the other back in the 1970s. Was it 8 pairs here? I forget, but once tied together with some very effective Furutech wires and cabling, the system was capable of a stentorian assault on the human auditory system – oh, could it go loud! And yet on getting a simple whisper right, the system excelled. Good job Elite.

A WONDERFUL SECOND RANK

These are the show entrants which, for one reason or another, struck me as superb performers and fully deserving of mention:

The VAC Amplification Company is here, not for a single performance in any one room, but for the fact that VAC gear was sounding exceptional in any number of rooms. VAC, with speakers from Von Schweikert, Sonist and Gershman enhanced their presentations. I particularly liked the Posh speakers from Gershman with the VAC electronics. They gave a full room experience that was balanced and enjoyable.

I’ve known Bill Dudleston for a long time and was hoping to talk to him in his room … he wasn’t there (when I was, anyway). But his speakers were and acted like the world class performers they are. Taking up a small corner of a very large room, Legacy Audio demonstrated the AERIS, 4.5 way system ($21,450.00). They sounded articulate as well as potent, all packaged in a very attractive industrial motif.

Legacy Audio, Acapella Audio Arts, Clearaudio Innovation

Being an audiophile born in the 50s, but coming of age in the 70s, I have known of and wanted, at times desperately, a speaker based on the Ohm/Walsh driver. In Chicago was HHR Exotic Speakers and their top of the line product carried the moniker TLS-1 ($15,000.00). Low and behold, what I saw was a single 12” Walsh type driver with full 360 degree dispersion filling the room with seamless sound! No woofer, no midrange driver, no crossover, just the beautiful Walsh driver energizing a room of happy audiophiles. I believe that this speaker may have made the top rank were it not for the sensation I had that the driver wasn’t quite broken in. The exhibitor confirmed my suspicion when he said that the speaker had been built just for the show…and I was there on the first day.

I don’t usually think of audio when I hear the word Einstein. From Germany comes Einstein audio electronics. As I sat and listened, the more I was convinced that these guys with their tube and solid state designs knew the sound of music and saw to it that their equipment reflected that. I wish I had more facts to give you other than a few subjective findings; the sonic experience in the Einstein room was a worthy one. Which brings me to a new marque called Eikon. From Gayle Sanders of Martin Logan fame comes a new DSP intelligent loudspeaker that, if I understand this correctly, constantly adjusts its output to compensate for irregularities in the listening room. Ordinarily, I’d be supremely skeptical of such a system - too complicated - but it sounded good. I liked it a hair less than the Gamut (less refined, not as amazingly textured), but the potential to be better does seem to be there. Ayon tube electronics with Lumen White loudspeakers showed fast and full range at the same time. The Orthos mono amps with Spheris preamp retail for around $60,000.00 together. The Lumen White speakers had an unusual finish and retail for $49,900.00.

Help! I need something that costs less than thirty-fifty thousand dollars – quick! Whew, leave it to an Italian firm to come to the rescue. AudioThesis of Arlington, Texas is importing a sweet sounding, single-ended integrated tube amplifier from Mastersound with a retail price of $3,500.00. Now we’re talking! Appearing much more expensive than its price, the unit was refined yet dynamic sounding, while maintaining that certain organic sweetness so many audiophiles hunger for. If you are not an oil baron or social network owner, the Mastersound may be your musical ticket. And while on the enjoyable subject of equipment some would say is affordable, let me introduce Wells Audio. Showing with Anticables and Salk Sound, Wells featured the Commander preamplifier. Trying to get technical aspects of a product correct in a full blown review can be difficult, much less in a show report, but let me try. This preamplifier is a tube/transistor hybrid using a 12BH7A triode tube and phase splitter buffer stage . . . and it just gets more complex after that. But the gear sounds really good. Affordable? They have solid state power amps at $4,000.00, $6,000.00 and a coming amp at $1,699.00. I’m going to keep an eye on these guys because the power amplifiers look especially worthy of coverage.

A decade ago, I didn’t care for these speakers at all. Nor did I care much for the sound of their power amps and preamps. The company was mbl, my first exposure being to the Radialstrahler metal driver loudspeaker. You’ve seen them. They look like a metal football on top of a shiny base. When I first heard them so many years ago, they sounded metallic and hard: which they were, they being made of metal and being hard. They sounded better this year, a lot better, so much so, that I thoroughly enjoyed my 15 minutes or so in the mbl suite. The drivers kind of remind me of the Walsh driver, at least in principle, and that’s a good thing. Expensive? Don’t ask.

Pass Labs has it right. Pricey electronics, okay, I understand that. But the build quality, in my opinion, justifies the price. For $4,900.00 Pass has introduced a 25 wpc pure class A amplifier, and they have a new preamp in the affordable range too. The cool thing about Pass is that they may introduce a less expensive model every now and then, but they don’t sacrifice sonics to do so. In my estimation, the 25 wpc amp sounds as fine as the 30 wpc amp, which sounds as fine as the 60 wpc amp. They just have less power, but since they all run pure class A and are built to a similarly high quality – they all sound fantastic. I’d be as happy as a hound dog chasin’ a raccoon if I had a set of 160 wpc mono amps, but owning the 30 wpc Pass stereo amplifier has made me a happy audiophile for a long time.

With the rejuvenated interest in vinyl records, the invasion of the record cleaners was in full force – it had to happen. I’m not naming them, nor am I making any recommendations as to what works and what does not. Why don’t you buy one and then tell me.

Joseph Audio Pearl 3, GamuT RS7

HONORABLE MENTION

I didn’t feel that I could walk away from this assignment without first giving a nod to some of the attendees that came across extremely well without me being able to have an extended listen to the products themselves. Here are my impressions:

Joseph Audio: Fine drivers with Infinite Slope crossovers.

Pear Audio turntables: Made great sound in more than one room – made me want one.

Karan Acoustics: Beautiful electronics made to high standards.

NOLA loudspeakers: The Contender S3 for $6,900.00, high efficiency with purity of sound.

Dynaudio: I love their drivers…

Clearaudio turntables: Beauty with functionality (and I own one!).

VPI turntables: They were everywhere.

Magico: I’ve always loved the sound of these, if only they didn’t cost so much!!!

Daedalus speakers: Gorgeous build quality and sound. Made great advancements in sound.

ELAC: Old name, new promise with a nice sounding inexpensive speaker.

Rogue Audio: Every room they were in sounded good.

YG Acoustics: Didn’t care for this speaker a few years back, much better now.

Kronos: Beautiful turntables with counter rotating platters that I had a hard time taking my eyes off of.

Parasound: I got to their room just as I was starting to feel pretty poorly. As always, Richard Schram was amiable and a joy to talk to, but I wasn’t able to take him up on his offer of a tour. They were showing with Tekton loudspeakers, a brand I’ve been dying to hear, if only for the unique, some might say weird, tweeter arrangements. Sorry guys, I couldn’t stay.

And kudos to the two guys from Peoria, Illinois that not only remembered me but remembered my heart’s work, Bound for Sound.

-MGD

#audiophile #axpona #audio show #mgd

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tevotbegotnaught · 5 years ago

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Dubov's Last Jump-off pt 3

Saturday afternoon, we found out the club couldn’t (or wouldn’t) accommodate our third night. Dubov had to pay us, of course. Mo was looking at other venues, possibly for tonite, realistically for the coming week. He asked our availability. Once we all responded, possibilities quickly evaporated. That weekend passed and more days after.

After waiting a week, I texted Mo about money. Hours later, he replied:

“High paint he otter eyes or sue didn’t cut anything”

At the gigs, I watched Mo use his phone; its screen at his nose, glasses mid way between forehead and hairline. He looked down precipitously, grumbled, grumbled again, then pressed send. What usually came through was a ransom note clipped from Beckett. He never corrected these puzzles until one of us asked. Here, a fully translated version of our exchange:

“I paid the other guys, you sure you didn’t get anything.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Did you send your invoice to Julie.”

“Yes”

“I’ll call them”

“is there anything I can do to expedite this?”

“Chris, I’m not your employer”

“Right”(!)

“There’s a rehearsal tonite, will you be there”

“I didn’t know about a rehearsal. Where and when?”

“Still working on a place. Maybe 7?” (3 hours from now)

“Tough for me”

“No worries. If you go, you’ll be paid of course”

“Ok”

“No worries. I’ll get back to you”

Now, I was enrolled in the Godot payment plan. Dubov was looking at spending four lifetimes in more chains than Issac Hayes ever wore. I just wanted to get my money.

Weeks later, Mo Bedbug went live.

“Bears ash oh Friday”

Mo called in a favor with some Long Islanders. We had a show Friday. I lobbied for travel money.

Any evening rush hour on the LIE (a highway, not an enormous falsehood) was a parking lot. Friday rush was tailgating minus libations. I pressed him for my other money in the bargain.

“I paid Pianist with Venmo. Do you have Venmo.”

(I send my Venmo)

“This is will be easy, I didn’t know you had Venmo.”

“Ok”(I offered twice before)

“I’ll see you Friday my place"

Mo balked at travel money, though. Arranging an Uber from his place and promising we'd miss rush hour. To get to Mo's, I took the bus, two of them. It cost me way more than the fare. Flushing Avenue, Shabbat imminent, was a sightseeing tour: high school kids, restaurant workers, construction crews. So many people boarding, I couldn’t see nor hear my stop and had to walk an extra half-mile.

Turning onto Mo’s street, a familiar Bushwick tableau appeared. A massive pit, surrounded on three sides by green plywood. Graffiti tags and band decals fading under the shrouds of old posters. At the curb, a ziggurat of garbage-strewn ten-foot pipes and a marooned RV, black spray paint scrawled over its siding and vents, windows cracked and stuffed with wads of insulation, front seats piled to the ceiling with bundled magazines and crumpled newsprint.

On the next block, I found Mo's address stenciled on the brick wall of a old factory. Drummer stood away from its entrance smoking and scrolling his phone. He looked up.

"Man, I texted him like 10 minutes ago."

"No answer?"

"He said he’s coming right down"

"I’ve been giving him progress reports. F***ing bus was crawling."

The building’s entrance, a glass and brushed steel module, sat cheek by jowl with a battered freight elevator. After a text reminder and more waiting, the freight elevator doors parted vertically. Mo let the canvas strap swing overhead.

"This way" he said, glancing over his shoulder at the gleaming foyer before pulling the strap down. The elevator enclosure, a hypoxic chamber of fuel vapors and sawdust, led darkly to a huge steel door. Mo punched a code and pulled the handle. Inside, a newly carpeted hallway, filled with tarps, drywall, paint cans and the potent smell of sandalwood.

"They’re still doing work....as you can see. My place is cool, though.”

"Where’s Keys (the new pianist)?"

"He’s here. Been here a while. Working on the music."

"You have a piano?"

"Uh, I have kind of a studio. Not for recording, but you know, instruments and stuff."

Mo had room for those instruments and plenty more. His walls sprouted art in every medium and material: paintings on wood, metal, plastic jugs, shards of glass; sculptures of bottle caps, cardboard, styrofoam; violent, erotic black and white photos fetishizing punk style and concert posters from Downtown’s acme.

I stooped to gawk at an undulating video in a KFC bucket.

“That’s from my gallery. I used to have a gallery. When it closed I moved everything here. Well, not everything, but…you know.”

Keys sat on a leather couch. He was a kid, maybe twenty-five. I was his grandfather. That messed me up. Before excusing himself, Mo pulled me an espresso from a fancy Italian machine. I packed sandwiches and coffee, but the extra shot was welcome. From a closed door, medicinal-grade weed wafted. We were a full hour behind schedule.

Out on the street, waiting for the Uber, Mo nodded at the construction site and listing RV, saying in his mumblecore voice,

"That’s my girlfriend’s art project.... I mean, ex-girlfriend. "

"The RV? She did THAT?"

"Yeah....Well, her friends... they did it together. I don’t know who did which part"

(There were ‘parts’?)

"How long has it been there?"

"Uh....nine months. Wait...yeah. We broke up six months ago. She was living in it for a while."

"Living in it? You’re kidding. Was that part of the project?"

He chuckled. "Yeah...I don’t know."

"We’re still friends" he said, mostly to tumbling litter in the street.

Inside the Uber, Mo continued: “the realtor told me this was east Williamsburg, but it’s not, it's Bushwick. I don’t care what they call it, of course. I don’t mind living in Bushwick. It’s easier to have a car here.”

“You have a car?”

“Not now. Had to get rid of it. Wasn’t right for this neighborhood”

“Wasn’t right?”

“it was an Audi R8. Midlife crisis car. These streets are so bad, I kept having to get it fixed.”

Driving due east, the winter sun behind us pooled on the shiny road. We careened through four lane traffic. Ahead, break lights fanned out, ruby droplets cascading off a humpback’s tail.

Drummer and Keys talked through the set, then volleyed gossip about mutual friends.

When the radio spun an artist he knew personally, Mo turned around and apropos-ed a story, interrupting the other guys. In the 80s, he produced videos for many fledgling stars. It was a new medium for him and Pop music. A few of his clients soared from Downtown digs to world domination. Mo didn’t stay on for their ascent, though. He also worked on an early Dubov-produced movie until the boss’s relentless cost-cutting and hostility wore him down. While he rambled, a vape pen did plenty of its own talking.

Tonight’s venue, a redux of a famous Long Island rock room, now tucked in the basement of a new boutique North Shore Inn. That building, a block-size Cape Cod, dropped like Dorothy’s whirling farmhouse at an angle to the tony commercial strip.

We had a seriously low pressure slot, opening for a veteran blues band. Ten white guys from three generations; a solid outfit with a long history playing sincere, tasty covers. Always simpatico, Karolina added "Stormy Monday" to our set list. Due to the short notice, we lost Pianist, our stellar MD, and Trumpet wasn’t available. Pruned to prototypical stripper band: saxophone, piano and drums. Not without some irony..

When the ladies hit “Uptown Funk", shimmying and signifying, the audience, almost all sixty year-old white dudes with the occasional spouse, started hooting and whistling. T and A wasn’t on the bill, but it still satisfied. Margherita did her canned steps for ”Too Darn Hot". Karolina was confident and sold her songs. Keys somehow kept the basslines and harmonies together. I completely missed the famous trumpet intro to “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy". The ladies jumped in undaunted. The Male Gaze kept the show alight until we exited, dodging the headliner's B3, Leslie and vintage amps.

The ladies were pros now and we repaired to the underground parking lot to celebrate. The girls in jeans and hoodies, band in our "gangster suits". While she waited for Keys to blaze up. Margherita asked me,

“Did you have fun?”

"Sure, I always have fun" I told her. What counts as honesty when the entire premise of an act is fakery?

"Great" she said, tracking down the joint.

A couple hits and we went back inside, sitting down near the jacked-open exit door. The blues band’s horn section looked on wearily as the front man sang verses fashioned by tougher men for harsher times. From our seats, we saw Mo sweep through the green room doorway, his long canvas coat and scarf swinging. He pivoted at the closest table and exchanged with the owner, a grizzled man with a barely legal date. Their conversation rearranged chairs and sent the men striding out of the club, proving there actually were blues to be had everyday.

When Mo and dance partner failed to return, we headed upstairs and onto the porch, where patio furniture gleamed under blinding lights. At the foot of the wooden steps, livery cars glided in and out of the glare. After a flurry of texts, the ladies gathered their garment bags and kissed us goodbye. A black SUV, indistinguishable from the others, stopped and a rear window opened. Inside, Dubov’s face, like crumpled paper, if paper were milled from lipids and dusted with ash. "Good job guys" he said, voice level and hoarse. We thanked him. The ladies got in on the far side, Dubov’s window closed and the car drove off.

************************************************************************************

After dropping him at the factory, Mo left the meter running on our Uber so the band could get home. On the way, we speculated about Dubov’s eventual prison sentence, Mo’s fee and when "the New Yorkers" might book their first Bar Mitzvah.

The driver, a Bengali, navigated without commenting on our post-mortems, confirming and re-confirming each address for his app. I was last on the circuit. Once we were alone, I asked the driver about his night. His answers were brief and courteous. As we waited at a light, he turned his head toward me. "Excuse me, one question. Have you ever been to Las Vegas?"

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