#Eddie put that poor man through turmoil | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepylixie · 4 years ago

Text

6k words, Romance (Fluff/Angst), Royal AU, Enemies to Lovers, Beware of swearing

Crown Prince! Lee Minho X Crown Princess- Fem! Reader

Dear SKZ, with love with @districtninewriters

Music: Dynasty by MIIA, Ashes by Celine Dion, Speechless by Naomi Scott, Reflection by Christina Aguilera, My Tragedy by Taeyeon

A/N: HELLO I have been so excited to post this EHEHEHEHEHEH- Do let me know what you think of this fic, I’d love to hear feedback !! ONTO THE FIC!

Three soft knocks sounded outside your bedroom doors, prompting you to sit up and slip out of bed in a heartbeat. Sleep hadn’t been your best friend for a while, but there was a sense of peace in the mornings that couldn’t be found otherwise that had you waking up early anyway. The birds had just begun chirping with the sunrise, the first stirrings of the maids and servants causing quiet rustles outside your door.

Pulling a satin robe over your nightdress, you opened the door and ushered Han Jisung into your bedroom, taking a seat at your vanity. “What brings you here so early, Ji?” “This came in for you a few hours ago,” your closest confidante and cousin murmured, pulling out something from inside his jacket pocket and handing it over to you.

You studied the envelope you were holding, flipping it over a few times in your hands. The quality of the paper was nicer than normal, almost like whatever was inside was more important than just a regular letter. You weren’t expecting anything, let alone important or special. But it was definitely your name on the front. In a forcefully familiar, neat cursive you had been trying all too hard to forget. “It’s from Eriant’s crown prince.” Jisung sidled closer to you, his eyes glazed in simultaneous sleep and concern. Your eyebrows arched in mild annoyance as you frowned. “I thought I told the Court of Letters to burn anything from this sender.” “It…came with another letter. From Eriant’s King. ” Your ears perked at the weary concern coating Jisung’s rounded syllables. Nodding at him to speak, you let your fingers trace over the handwriting, momentarily thrown off by the memories that came flooding back to you with the sender- “Your father the King had you betrothed to the Crown Prince to repay the war debts.”

An outraged screech escaped your lips before you could reel it in, your lips stretching back in a furious snarl. Jisung strolled to the tea table for some hot chocolate, absolutely unfazed; he was expecting things to be thrown so this was a rather tame reaction in retrospect. Your hands crumpled the letter despite the weight and thickness, the scrawl disappearing in your clenched hands.

“The day men stop controlling my life is the day I will wipe my hands clean of them all.” You hissed between deep breaths. “Who does he think he is? Does he think he can coerce me into taking him back with a sham of a marriage?”

Ripping open the crumpled envelope, you pulled out the single leaf of heavy paper parked with the Eriant crest and the Crown Prince’s coat of arms- so he’d truly deigned to write to you himself. Jisung leaned closer to read the words in the letter, eyes narrowed and then wide as they scanned the contents.

“Apologies for the inconvenience… Betrothed to be married…moving to the castle… IN 2 DAYS?!” Your voice creaked and broke at the pitch of your furious scream, Jisung flinching from his proximity to your anger.

So much for peaceful mornings.

“The Eriant party is here, Your Majesty.” The Prime Minister whispered to your father, your ears perking at the heads-up. So, it was time. Court was well underway, the sun reaching the highest point in the sky outside the arched windows, the air dotted with murmurs and conversation.

“Allow them in,” The King responded before his sharp gaze landed on you. “Behave in a manner befitting of the future queen, daughter.” A blank stare was what he got in return, an eyebrow arched in polite derision. Despite making it abundantly clear that you were not interested in marrying the Eriant prince and would do everything in your power to put the wedding to a standstill, your father had refused to oblige.

“You were courting the prince but a year ago, daughter,” your father shouted, the maids in the corner cowering from his dangerous timbre. But you stood tall, teeth bared in a snarl of your own. “Things change in a year, father!” You exclaimed, the first embers of desperate anger sparking alive. “He’s aimless, a man of pointless rebellion. I don’t wish to be shackled to a man like that, especially one who will be my king, Velairen’s King!” “The Crown Prince has reformed his past rebellious ways. I’m sure you of all people understand reform and poor judgement, daughter.” A wildfire quickly spread across your head, your heart, burning your cheeks and fingertips and spine- “You will NOT dangle my past over my head and I will NOT marry Lee Minho. He is below me.” There was not a chance in hell that you would allow himself to be wed to him, not after everything that happened-No. No- But your father had pulled himself to his full height, the king’s authority ringing darkly in the wood panels of his study like an unbreakable decree. “You do not have a choice.”

“What do you mean, father?” you sneered, taking no small amount of delight in the quicksilver fury that passed by his eyes. “I am but a gift mare in your lost game, am I not?”

“You-” “Presenting the Princes of Eriant and their travelling party.” The herald’s loud voice cut across your father’s likely vicious response and you turned away to face the Courtroom.

Your back straightened against the back of your throne, skirts rustling quietly as you crossed your legs, wayward thoughts eddying and swirling in your mind. There was no way you were letting this accursed wedding happen, damn your father and his decisions-

The large double doors loomed open at the other end of the courtroom, revealing a group of people dressed in the navy blue, brown and silver- Eriant’s colours. The party moved into the hall, walking down the centre aisle to you, stopping a few feet shy of the steps to the thrones. There was an oddly heavy silence that rung through the walls of the Courtroom, almost like the attendees were holding their breath.

At the head of the party stood two young men, both wearing identical smiles of sheer irreverence. One was taller than the other, his hair a mess of inky black against his forehead. Quicksilver eyes met yours for a split second before your gaze met the other- your heart skipped a beat.

He was exactly as you remembered, but somehow older. The same sharp nose and jaw, but his stance was no longer hunched and defensive- he stood tall, shoulders straight, chin up… like a king. He had dark chocolate coloured hair now, parted messily to reveal one part of his forehead. Charcoal eyes that twinkled exactly the way you remembered- no. You wouldn’t remember. Never again.

Princes Minho and Seungmin stepped in front of the party, bowing neatly to you and your father. “Welcome to Velairen, Princes.” “The pleasure is ours, Your Majesty.” Seungmin’s smile widened as he bowed his head to you. “And you, Your Highness. Your agreement to this union is a matter of great honour for Eriant.”

Your eyebrows knitted scornfully, a soft scoff escaping your lips before you could control it. However, the words that left you were light in their countenance, easy and amused and just the right amount of coy. “One would think I was marrying you, Prince Seungmin, and not the Heir apparent who is yet to speak for himself.” The court and the Eriant party dissolved into amicable laughter, and the silence was broken. A small smile curled your lips as Lee Minho’s eyes landed on you. You held his gaze, deliciously cold and unfamiliar. You would not appear weak, not in front of him. Never again. “Heir apparent and your future queen’s betrothed.” The King stood from his throne amidst surprised gasps, the court’s attention now speared on him. “Because 3 months from now, your crown princess will be wed to Eriant’s first prince, a historical union between two ally countries-”

Before he could speak further, the court erupted into joyous celebration, the sounds of happiness ringing in your ears. You smiled widely, the picture-perfect bride-to-be and queen-to-be as you stood up and bowed to the revelling crowd.

From an outside point of view, the betrothal definitely did look like the dream alliance come true. Velairen and Eriant had been allies ever since the inception of the two countries, controlling the continent’s coastline together. During Velairen’s war with the inland desert tribes, Eriant sent troops and funds from their depthless coffers to aid Velairen’s victory. While your country won the war, the lands suffered from famine, bad trade and mourning- no way to repay Eriant for their loan….so here you were, pretending to be the blushing paragon of a happy bride. Pretending that you wanted to marry a snake in a fancy crown.

Sighing internally, you smoothed your skirts out as you sat down again, barely listening to your father’s emotional and thankful speech in honour of the many times Eriant has come to your country’s help and now, you get to repay them in kind with the hand of Velairen’s future queen. A hand that would never touch the prince’s, if you had anything to do with it-

“Thank you for the welcome, Your Majesty.” Lee Minho’s voice was like a jolt of recognition you would sell your soul to forget. “In honour of our betrothal, I have a small gift from Eriant’s treasury, for the newest jewel of our family. May I?”

You could have sworn you heard the ladies-in-waiting sigh dreamily amongst the courtiers, but all you could feel was belated disgust. Despite your inner turmoil, you smiled sweetly at him as your father nodded and let Minho walk up the steps to stop in front of your throne- where your skirts stopped. Too close for comfort.

You gulped as Minho’s clove and mint scent surrounded your senses, painfully familiar. Going down on one knee in front of you, he opened a black velvet box to reveal...fire. Your breath caught in your throat as you unconsciously put a hand out to run your finger over the row of twinkling red gemstones were inlaid into the white-gold ring…This ring had bottled a wildfire in it. “This is beautiful…” You breathed despite yourself, almost forgetting who was to slip that ring on your finger until-

“Of course, I chose it.” Minho grinned up at you, razor-sharp and devious- and you were brought back to reality. This wasn’t a true engagement. It never would be. You were nothing but one acquisition of many for Eriant, a conquest for its unruly crown prince.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you murmured soullessly amidst the merrymaking that had ensued throughout the court at the sight of the two young royals together. You didn’t pretend to sound like anything you didn’t feel like- there was nobody listening anyway. Minho’s eyes darkened as he saw your enamoured expression shutter into a blandly happy mask as he slipped the ring onto your left hand.

“Glad you like it.” He said as he got to his feet, bowing his head to you and you raised your eyebrows, a small smile still playing at your lips. To anybody else, it would have looked bashful and happy, but Minho knew better- that smile was a promise of dark things waiting to happen. “What’s another ring in a queen’s trousseau?”

“Why aren’t you ready yet?” Jisung’s exasperated voice sounded from outside your bedroom, prompting you to giggle aloud as you reclined on an armchair fully dressed, an open book placed on your lap. You had been reading and oh, how unfortunate that-

“It’s only a meeting with my betrothed, cousin dearest,” you responded, closing the book and getting to your feet. “I’m sure he can wait for me.”

“You’re almost an hour late!!” your cousin exclaimed, pounding on the door once more. “I’m not going to be fired by Uncle for your impertinent behaviour, so you better haul your royal ass out before I pick the lock and drag you downstairs by your ears!”

“Tsk, such a killjoy.” you purred, walking to your bedroom door and pulling it open, smile only widening at the sight of a red-cheeked, annoyed Han Jisung. “After his betrayal with this betrothal, I could ask for moon cheese and my father would have to oblige. You’re stuck with me, cousin dearest.”

“You and I both know you’re stalling because you’re scared of looking Minho in the eye, so drop the act, will you?” Jisung responded brusquely, rolling his eyes. A shiver tracked down your spine, unbeknownst to your cousin. He wasn’t wrong.

The Eriant party had taken up comfortable residence in… you guessed it, the princess’ wing. Your wing. And yet, you had managed to avoid Minho over the past week as he got accustomed to his new temporary residence and explored the capital city. Seungmin had caught your eye a few times, bowing his head and smirking as you passed him by. Minho, however… if anything, you were fairly sure he was avoiding you himself, judging from how atrociously easy it was to avoid him despite living in the same wing.

“A queen doesn’t act; others are just judgemental.” You scoffed dramatically, looping an arm around Jisung’s, giggling at the exaggerated huff that left your cousin’s lips. “The things I do for family.” He grumbled, letting you drag him out of your drawing room and into the corridors, a grateful smile quirking your lips.

Jisung had been your closest friend since you could remember- he had seen you grow up from an unruly, spiteful little princess into a dignified royal. At least for appearance’s sake. He knew how pained you were after the events that began your enmity with Eriant’s crown prince, the nights you’d spent staring into the night with nobody but the moon for company. You knew he had your best interests at heart- Jisung would not watch you hurt because of Lee Minho again.

“The Princess is here,” Jisung announced as you stepped into the room, your gait slow and casual. Instantly, you could sense the frustration the Crown Prince was exuding- you coughed a giggle into your hand at the sight of Minho’s furrowed brows and gritted teeth.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” you apologised airily as you slid into a chair, nodding to Seungmin and the blonde boy you recognized as the Eriant ambassador to Velairen, Lee Felix. “I got caught up in a prior commitment.” Jisung took a seat next to you, leaving you seated between him and Seo Changbin- the Minister of the Treasury and another of your close friends. The Eriant princes and Felix were seated opposite to the three of you on the long conference table, Minho directly opposite to you. Changbin dropped a quick kiss onto your cheek after you settled yourself onto the chair.

“Was the commitment of a literary nature?” he murmured, prompting you to laugh heartily. “Oh, you know me too well, dearest.” The incredulous glare Minho was giving you wasn’t lost on you- he was making no attempt to hide his emotions, it seemed. “Can we get the proceedings started now?” You asked pleasantly. “Unlike some crown princes who can loaf their lives away, I have places to be.”

The stab of amusement that tingled your spine at Minho’s affronted expression was too satisfying to let go of. He made it too easy, offending him. Seungmin coughed into his hand, a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, his silver eyes twinkling in amusement. “Of course, Your Highness,” he said, his voice deep and as pleasant as yours.

“Before anything, can we drop the honorifics? If we are to be family, honorifics mean nothing.”

A scoff escaped Minho’s lips at your request and you levelled a stare at him, bordering on ice cold. “Of course you’d want to drop the honorifics, Princess.” Minho’s voice matched you for bland pleasantry- “You’re getting married above your station after all, to a country bigger and better than yours will ever be.” And finally, the snake spits its venom.

Before you could snarl a furious response, Jisung and Changbin’s hands caught each of yours, squeezing in a warning. Not now, they seemed to say. Not now, you can rip into him later.

Teeth gritted, you turned your attention to Felix, who seemed to be cursing his luck for getting him caught in this royal crossfire. “You were saying, Ambassador?” You prompted him, pointedly ignoring Minho’s jab. Felix started and sat up straight, clearing his throat. “Yes, so, this meeting was to figure out your public appearances for the next 4 months.” Oh, stars. “Jisung and I will be managing your appearances and schedules for the next few months. On an average, you two will have to be seen together at least thrice a week- balls, charities, union meetings…wedding shopping.” He choked out and almost instantly, Minho rolled his eyes.

“Judging by the…animosity, can being cordial to each other in public be an acceptable request of the two of you?” Felix’s eyes flitted between the two of you nervously. Poor boy, he must be getting paid handsomely to put up with these rich brats. A pleasant smile lit up your face, reaching out to pat Felix’s hand where it was resting on the table. “Don’t worry, Felix. I’m not much trouble. I can manage myself in public.” Almost instantly, Felix relaxed, an uncertain smile passing across his features- “Of course she can, pretending is the only thing she does decently.”

Changbin’s hand tightened around yours, while Jisung’s grip loosened. Minho was treading the line between impoliteness and disrespect and it was clear that Jisung already had had enough of him. Still, you continued to ignore him, opting to turn to your cousin.

“What’s the first schedule we have together?” Saying the words left such a bitter taste in the back of your tongue. “Your mother The Queen’s picnic with high society at high noon tomorrow. That’s your formal introduction into the society, princes,” Jisung nodded to Minho and Seungmin, before turning to Felix. “We’d appreciate it if we get this meeting over with as soon as possible, we have a meeting with the ministry right after this.” You pursed your lips in amusement; Jisung really didn’t like Minho. You didn’t have anything scheduled after this but a peaceful afternoon in the gardens.

Minho coughed into his tea, a jeer barely hidden behind the teacup and this time, you let your chilling stare bore into him, an eyebrow raised. “Do you have anything to say that contributes to this conversation?”

He smirked, setting his teacup down. “You’ve not changed a bit, have you.” Changbin’s eyes narrowed at the disdainful undertones on his voice, but you surreptitiously patted the top of his hand before steepling your fingers on top of the table. “What makes you think so, Minho?” “You’re still the people pleasing little girl who waltzed every night away with different men. You’re still no better than a lowly courtesan, vying for a richer man’s attention-“

A gasp cut off his venomous words, his eyes betraying the pure rage coursing through his system at the sight and sensation of cold tea soaking the front of his clothes but before he could say another word- A resounding smack sent his head reeling to the side, the sheer force leaving his ears ringing. You knelt on top of the table in front of him, your teeth gritted in a barely restrained anger- the sheer fucking audacity -

Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin and Felix had shot to their feet in shock, only watching as you caught the front of blazer and brought him closer to your face, eyes not leaving his. “You never knew anything about me, Lee Minho,” You murmured softly. “You never did, you never will.” Jisung and Changbin had reached over to catch each of your shoulders, gently hauling you back from Minho but your fingers tightened on the lapels of his blazer, pulling him to his feet and halfway over the table with you. “So don’t sit there with your holier-than-thou attitude and think that I will take it lying down. I am not your doormat, but I have no qualms making you mine.”

Minho collapsed onto his seat as Jisung and Changbin dragged you over the table and set you on the floor, your chest still heaving slightly. Almost immediately, Jisung pulled you towards the double doors you had entered through, Changbin bowing before heading behind the both of them. Seungmin coughed when the doors closed behind the three of them. “That’s her, huh.”

Minho let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, a hiss escaping his teeth when his brother’s cool fingers prodded his cheek where she’d slapped him. She was just as he remembered- a spitfire with unexplained elegance, a hurricane barely contained in human skin. She was exactly as his dreams painted her to be for the past year, so fiery and real…a human embodiment of the ring he had gotten made for her. The regret that had racked his system for a year pricked the back of his eyes and he blinked aggressively, willing the emotions away from his face.

She hated him for his reckless behaviour. She would never trust him again after the way he had behaved with her back then- betrothal, marriage or a shared crown be damned. “Yes, that’s her.” //

“Felix, you are excused. Ji, I’ll drop by your chambers later. Leave us alone for a bit.”

You growled the second your drawing room door closed behind the both of you as well as Jisung and Felix. The four of you and Seungmin had been at the Minister of Foreign affairs’ charity ball that evening, so you were all dressed in Lord Hyunjin’s chosen dress code- black and gold.

Minho had been watching you rather oddly at the beginning of the night but you’d chosen to pointedly ignore them, as you always did. Hyunjin had swept you into his arms for your first dance, the most gracious host honouring the lovely crown princess. He had held you close as you chuckled and laughed against his shoulder, thoroughly enjoying your childhood friend’s talent in dance and his innate ability to set the most stressful situations at ease.

When you turned back to your…your fiancé, however, he had taken up residence in the midst of a gaggle of ladies, all giggling and preening around him. You had pushed down the raging fire taking root at the pit of your stomach and stalked to him, asking for a dance- only to be ignored, dismissed with nary but a second glance from Minho. You had been saved from humiliation by a dark-eyed Jisung, who had swooped in and taken your outstretched hand, leading you into an easy waltz. What happened next, however…

“I’ve about had it with you for the past month, you prick,” Turning and advancing on Minho, you pushed him back with two hands on his chest. He stumbled and quickly straightened himself, a haze of anger numbing his own senses.

“Well, you really want to duke it out now, fine. Let’s talk.” Minho crossed his arms. Your face burned with a barely restrained annoyance and for a second, Minho’s heart sank. Had he crossed a line today?

The past month had been torturous for the ‘happy couple’. Velairen was overjoyed to see the queen-to-be and her beloved fiancé stepping into the limelight almost every other day, their love a picture-perfect union. You had laughed and smiled at Minho, let your fingers brush his knuckles and grip his arm, let him lead you in dances and feed you cupcakes at every ball and celebration you could humanly attend together.

Minho, to his credit, had played along. He never failed to offer you his arm on walks, always helped you fix your outfits, dropped ‘secret’ kisses against your cheek and temple, soft and loving and the paragon of a fiancé in love.

But little did Velairen know, the war that the ‘happy couple’ waged behind the scenes. How your hands would always clutch Minho’s bicep a touch too roughly, almost enough for him to wince. How you would deliberately step on his toes mid-dance and giggle airily, apologizing and shying away like a bashful bride. How Minho would trip you on walks and then proceed to catch you, cursing the cobblestones in the most gallant manner. How he would butt into your conversations with dukes and have ‘politely flirty’ conversation with the fawning ladies-in-waiting. Tonight, however…

“Do I really have to go over how much of an absolute ass you looked like in the ball tonight? How you undermined me?”

Minho scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You were the one simpering and falling all over that Lord Hyunjin.”

“He’s like my brother, you possessive idiot!” You threw your arms up in exasperation. “And I can’t bring myself to care about you going around behaving like a man whore. Just try to be a little discreet about it, will you?”

Deep down, your words hit Minho with shards of hurt. Was that how low you thought of him? Despite the bile and nausea that rose to his throat at the thought, he swallowed, before speaking again.

“If that’s not your concern, then what is? The tripping? Surely you’re not that juvenile. You had your revenge on my toes for that-“ “You undermined me in front of the FUCKING MINISTRY!” Your voice rose to a yell and Minho pursed his lips. He truly had crossed a line tonight. You continued, your voice still loud and furious.

“You told the fucking Minister of Education that the only reason I have a crown on my head is because of my blood and not my capability.” You fumed. “I should have you thrown into the dungeons for your thoughtless impertinence.” And the anger came rushing back to his body, replacing any semblance of regret he harboured for his (albeit) false words.

“You don’t have the authority to do that, princess,” he spat out the last word like a mockery of it’s meaning and you stiffened, your vision going red.

“The only thing royal about you is your royal ego, Minho.” You snarled at him. “You’re in my palace. My turf. I can do whatever I wish to you, short of pulling your tongue out.” “Like you can afford to hurt me in any way,” Minho scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Eriant would have your head if I went back disfigured.”

“That’s what you do best, don’t you?” You grinned mockingly, crossing your arms. “Hide behind your country’s prestige like a little boy.” Minho’s eyes darkened, his jaw tight in anger but you found yourself still talking, letting the words slip out of you unrestrained.

“You don’t know a thing about the power you hold other than lording it over people’s heads, PLEASE,” you spit, prodding his chest with a finger. “don’t think, even for a second, that I will ever take you or this sham of an engagement I’m trapped in seriously.”

Turning your back on him, you stalked to the low tea table and poured yourself some water in a bid to calm yourself, when Minho let out a derisive laugh behind you. “There it is. You’re trapped in this engagement? Do you ever think about the unfortunate souls that have to deal with your narcissistic self?” Your fingers tightened around the glass; you would not respond with the anger he was asking- no, begging for any further. “Everything is about you, isn’t it? Your betrothal, your crown, your country, your ice-cold heart and your inability to love-“

Judging from the way your body stilled, he knew he’d touched a nerve. But when you turned to face him, Minho was not prepared to see tears lining your red-rimmed eyes. He didn’t expect the sight to affect him the way it did, feel like his heart had just dropped a thousand feet, heavy and regretful.

“Is that what you think?” “I-I just-“Minho sucked in a deep breath, an attempt to calm the ice-cold panic that was seeping into his veins. “That crossed a boundary. My apologies. I did not mean to say that.”

You only scoffed tearfully in response, a…no, that wasn’t a smile, that was an unfeeling curl of your lips that couldn’t be deigned a smile. “You wouldn’t have said that had you not thought it true, Minho.”

Suddenly you weren’t the headstrong, stubborn, reckless girl Minho was used to seeing, the one with a viper tongue and wolves’ claws. Suddenly, you were the teenager who was used to getting what she wanted, even in the realm of love- the young girl who laid her eyes on men and ladies who fascinated you and did all you could to claim them. Suddenly, you were the young princess who had laid eyes on a young Lee Minho and had instantly wanted him- the blooming young lady new to high society, having eyes only for the rebellious, sharp-tongued, young prince with a smile that could fell kingdoms.

The queen-to-be who never really stopped having eyes only for the king-to-be.

“You found it so easy to dismiss me as a player, a royal rake with no human feeling whatsoever, didn’t you?” You laughed humourlessly, brushing past Minho to flop on the drawing room couch. His eyes followed you, his place at the edge of the rug still unchanged.

“You made it easy to do that, princess,” Minho murmured, his voice soft, placating, hesitant- almost like he was treading a thin line between setting off your anger or god forbid, hurt you again. “Your reputation preceded you.”

“My reputation painted me without virtue, without honour but it didn’t paint me without a heart, prince.” To that, Minho had no answer. The fight left his body, his shoulders slumped in defeat. His body steered him to the armchair next to you, sinking onto the plush cushions. “You’re right.”

“You heard a part of one conversation I had with a lady-in-waiting who wanted to bed you and instantly assumed you were yet another conquest for me.” You pulled your body upright, your tear-streaked face at odds with your pin-straight back and upright chin. This was a future queen in front of him, Minho realized. A queen who had stood trial for her poor decisions in the past and had never shirked into the darkness in fear of being wrong.

“I told her you were my conquest and that you were already crawling into bed with me so that she wouldn’t hound you. Because-“ you gulped, before spitting out the words that choked you on the way out. “Because I was jealous.” Oh.

“I was jealous because I saw you dally with that lady-in-waiting before…before we began courting. I didn’t want you to see how- I didn’t want you to see all the beauties Velairen had to offer and decide I wasn’t it for you. And that thought terrified me.” Oh. Oh.

“I’ll admit, I- I courted you only out of curiosity for your pretty face- But I swear, when I spoke to that noble, I already knew I was in love with you. Had been for a while. Those 3 months of courting you was probably the most- the only time courting felt right.” Well, damn.

Every cruel word he’d thrown at you after eavesdropping on that fateful conversation and the past month…it was all for naught. You had never been the rake, the rebellious player that rumor and reputation painted you out to be. His insult to your character a year ago was what pushed you away from him, unhesitatingly having chosen yourself over a prince who clearly didn’t know enough about you. “I love you.”

A sharp intake of breath was the only response Minho received in response to his blurted confession, your eyes wide with disbelief. “You what?” “I love you. I always have.” Minho’s mouth worked on instinct now, pouring out the words that had been brewing in the back of his mind for a year, weighed down by guilt, regret, embarrassment-

“I panicked when I heard you tell that noble that I was nothing but a conquest. I thought I was more to you. I wanted to be more to you, but there you were, making it abundantly clear that you weren’t. I panicked. The things I said, I didn’t mean a single word of them. Not a single one of them.”

Minho risked a glance at you, Your jaw was slack in surprise, your eyes still wide, fingers still clutching your dark skirts tightly, like you were struggling to stay in reality. The expression enough was almost enough for him to mentally slap himself to shut up, but he was beyond silence now-

“This betrothal was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. It brought me back to you. But when I saw the hatred you still had for me…I didn’t know how else to respond to your jibes. I’m truly sorry about all of it.

“I know my apology doesn’t take back all the absolutely shitty things I’ve said. I won’t expect you to take me back after everything. But could I…could I ask you for another chance?” and out of instinct, his body moved to kneel on one knee in front of you, a choked sob escaping your lips. “Minho-“

“Let me prove to you that I- I mean what I said. Because I do, I really do.” Minho’s hand curled around yours, the hand you wore the ring Minho had given you. “Will you…will you let me prove it to you?” A beat of silence turned to two, three, ten… “Yes.”

“JISUNG! Seungmin’s shadowing us!” You called out, chuckling when you heard the amused groan from behind the curtains. The second Eriant prince slinked out and threw you a two fingered salute, his eyes twinkling. You responded in kind, winking at him as he slipped out of your drawing room, just as Jisung walked in from your bedroom, arms laden with boxes. “Stay out of the bride’s room, best man!” Jisung yelled to the open drawing room door, only getting a distant chuckle and a resounding NO in response.

“He idolizes your rake phase.” Jisung grumbled, carefully placing the boxes on the tea table as you laughed aloud, crossing your legs. “And here I was, thinking he was just spying on me for his brother.”

“Well, that too.” Changbin grinned as he walked into your drawing room with Hyunjin, each with a gift box in hand. “My my, for all the love I’m receiving, I should have gotten married earlier!” You grinned, rising to pull both the Ministers into a hug. “Don’t flatter yourself, this is only going to last for the next hour.” Hyunjin stuck his tongue out, ruffling your hair affectionately. “When you get back from Eriant after the tour, you’re going to be treated as woefully normal. As Queen and not Minho’s Wife.” Minho’s wife. The words still sent a giddy jolt down your spine.

True to his words that night, Minho had proved his love to you, a little by little, day by day. This time, there was no misunderstanding and oh, the way his love bloomed. He greeted you with love letters with your morning tea and later, forehead kisses and lazy cuddles in bed.

He had taken his word very seriously and stoutly refused to speak against you for another month until you goaded him into banter again, stating that his sharp tongue was just another thing you adored about him.

Which was why you didn’t have to hesitate when he proposed marriage to you yet again, in the royal garden amongst red roses and white lilies, moonlight striking your happy tears as you said the magic word- “Yes.”

Life was a little brighter now. Not from hate, no. This time, from love. From Minho.

Taglist: @aliceu @decembermoonskz @seraplantery @rebecca-noona @decembermoonskz @straykidsownmysoul @stellarmonsterr @soya-zz @fylithia @bythesunnotbythemoon @luminois @moonlight-hyunjae @illicit-roses @cotccotc @unsaidhj @popisdead @sungieshines

Network Tag: @inkidz @districtninewriters @starryktown @bystay

Thank you for reading! Do let me know what you think! -Elliana

#stray kids #skz lee know #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz fantasy au #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #stray kids au #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #ellaskz #lino

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samanthalightning · 4 years ago

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She's Got A Date-EoWells X Allen!reader- Part III

*The GIF is not mine. All rights to the owner*

Part II

Summary: You headed out to have a drink with Iris, and after few cold ones, a realization dawned on you.

Warnings: None, besides alcohol. Drink accordingly, kids.

***

Iris invited you for some Girls' Night Out. You were reluctant to go out. The prison needs to be done chop-chop, so when 'The Mist' is apprehended, he'll have a place to rot in without harming anyone again.

And if you're being perfectly honest, you do want to go out, and talk and drink, but there are more pressing matters at hand. Much more than Iris' love life, and the game she chose to play.

Everyone left, except for Cisco who is in his own office. And since you don't have an office, shocking as might that sound with this place this big. You decided to stay in the cortex.

You like the solace when it comes to thinking. And dark places, weirdly. You turned off every light inside the deserted cortex, the only light illuminating the room was the display of Barry's suit and some lamps on the desks.

Nibbling on your pen, your feet up on the desk, you have been trying to get him off your mind. You had to leave the pipeline to cool off. It was hard doing something vital to the safety of people of the city and have your mind be plagued by something that revolves around your love life. It was very selfish. But you couldn't lie to yourself that it doesn't bother you; you're so distracted, and it's not the time to be.

You were pulled out of your reviere by a ding from your phone, thinking it's probably Iris, checking in whether you're still coming or not. You ignored it. She's being pretty insistent on going out; it means something happened. And it's Barry she should be pestering. You muted your phone for the sake of your peace of mind.

"Why are you still here?" Your head whirled around, taking your feet off the table. It was Wells behind you. You were startled, but not enough to make you jump or flinch. You didn't even hear him come in, perhaps you were just too caught up in your thoughts… of him.

"Why are you still here?" You were surprised. He disappeared hours ago, you thought he left without saying goodbye, because of what happened earlier. You would've done the same thing, as immature as that sounds.

"I want to see how the prison will turn out," he answered nonchalantly, moving beside you.

You straightened in your seat, clearly uncomfortable with his presence. You cleared your throat. "Well, I have to build it,"

"I think Cisco and I will be able to handle it perfectly fine if you go out for one night." He said, acting a little bit too normal.

"I know," you murmured. They're both adults and definitely much smarter than you, they can more than handle it, but it's hard to leave, but not

"Good. Then go out with Iris. Have fun," he insisted.

You brows furrowed, giving him a confused look. "Dr. Wells, I have to get—"

"It's okay. We'll be fine," he interrupted.

Your lips parted to retort, but he stared at you, eyes didn't even contain a hint of playfulness. You knew his eyes so well. And it made you more confused why he was pushing to go out and act like nothing happened, like you didn't just have the conversation earlier.

"Are you sure?" You questioned. Just to be safe, in case he was playing.

He nodded. He was giving you a seal of approval. You can't really disobey the boss, and besides, it might be well-needed. Just to get over what's been bothering you, and be more focused on work without thinking of Wells. It might be helpful. Or not. It's booze, you're taking it.

You heaved your chest in defeat with a grateful smile. "Okay. Fine." You stood up, and gathered your things and coat.

When you turned back to him, he was looking at you expectantly, you hesitated. You hesitated whether you should kiss him. He's still your boyfriend, and it's not the biggest fight in the world, so you went against every cell in your body that is so annoyed with him right now, leaned into him and gave him a brief peck on the lips.

It felt different, you knew the moment that you pulled away. It's blocked off, plain, just merely lips meeting— no smile after it like last night. You pushed the thought in the back of your mind and exited the cortex, you waved goodbye to Wells, and he waved back.

You sent Iris a text that you were coming, and she was ecstatic. And slightly tipsy.

You arrived at the bar. Hopefully, Iris isn't too drunk or has left. The cab ride price was ridiculous.

You stepped inside the bar, immediately welcomed by it's warm and bright ambience and the amount of large potted plants, and vines hanging off the wall was a refreshing sight. It's not so often you'll see that in a bar.

The stench of wood, bar food and alcohol filled your nostrils. It was loud and crowded; filled with conversation, laughters, and laughters, singing along at whatever the guy on stage was singing. Most of the people were still in their office attire, in their probably in their mid-20s to their late 30s.

You weaved through the crowd, looking around for Iris. You heard a shout, you didn't quite understand it, due to the noise, but you tried to make out of it as you heard it once more. Whipping your head around, you saw Iris by the bar, waving at you.

You walked to her with a smile on your face. She pulled you in, enveloping you into a tight, warm hug. You felt yourself sigh inwardly.

You didn't realize how much you needed it. The sense of comfort that you never had since your mom died. You crave it, but even if it's not as good as your mom's, it really hit the spot right now. Perhaps you were more upset than you thought.

You let go and both took a seat on the stool. You called the bartender and ordered yourself a beer.

She turned to you and asked, "How's your day?"

You exhaled sharply, while Iris looked at you expectantly. You had a hard time answering that. Well, to sum it up: Someone had died, there's crazy meta on the loose, and apparently he turns into a mist; Barry almost died, you have to build a makeshift prison; oh, and there are many things that you have to do, but you can't get your mind off your boyfriend and what he said. And yet, the last thing that you are is what you replied.

"Fine. You?"

"Fine," she replied.

You picked it up right off the bat that you were both lying, not only to each other, but to yourselves as well. After all of what's happening, you felt the need to.

"Cool. What's up?"

She shrugged with a little pout Joe does when he lies. "Nothing. Just wanna catch up,"

So you did. You talked about how work was the latest news in pop culture, whatever Barry was doing. You were two girls with secrets and if any of the topics touched relationships, romance or secrets in particular, you dodged it like how Barry dodges bullets.

The night went on. Hundred songs were sung by random people on the stage, and you start to feel the alcohol you start to kick off in your system. You two started talking about your childhood. About things you did, she did that pissed the hell out of Joe. There were a lot; you were a pain in the poor man's ass.

You faced Iris, head tilted on, as you placed it on the palm of your hand. Your head feels a little lightheaded, but you'll manage.

"Remember when Joe caught us drinking his beer?" You inquired.

A tipsy Iris broke into a grin, nodding. Oh she remembers it too well. "Yup. He was so mad. It was so funny." She giggled uncontrollably.

"Yeah, and we got grounded for a week," you retorted, taking a sip of your beer.

"Well, you helped us sneak it in the room!" She exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly.

"Only because you said it tasted good!" You retorted.

"And you believed me," she smirked.

You rolled your eyes dramatically, taking a sip of your drink. In your defense, you were 14. Not that they were much older— a year, actually. But you do regret it. Because of being grounded, you missed a date with Logan Garrick, your long time crush. Guess you weren't really one for dates.

As the smiles on your faces faded slowly, the energy you two radiated simmered down. Your voices or stories weren't the only ones that matters; everyone, the noises, the place you forgot you were in started sinking into your senses.

You were both hiding from the truth and someone has to cut the chase, be forthcoming with it tonight or you're both going to go crazy.

It's not gonna be you. At least not yet. As much as you aren't fond of his choice, you just can't.

You might not know Iris like your brother does, but you knew her. You're not stupid. This grab a drink with little sis is just a façade. One of the façade you're both putting up, anyway.

"So, what's up— like really?" You asked.

"What?" Iris eyebrows knitted in faux confusion.

You gave her a sharp look. You're not sober enough to play along with her denial.

She snorted, brushing you off. You maintained your stern expression, she laughed at you for staring at her, testing how far she can push her luck and convince you. Her laughs trailed off and she stared at you for a moment to see if you're gravely serious. You were.

Realizing it. She sighed, defeated. She tore her eyes off you down to her drink.

"Is it Eddie?" You asked.

Her jaws tightened at the mention of his name.

"What happened?" You insisted.

Turmoil in relationships is not something that is easy to talk about, and it can be pretty overwhelming. You know it yourself, which is precisely why you know it's very important to get it off your chest. But you can't go on throwing out your problems without questions, so the closest thing to that is helping Iris.

"He showed at home while Dad was there," she started. You almost spat drink, looking at her with wide eyes, terrified. You worry that Joe may have found out and he did not take it well. "We got away with it, but..." she paused.

"But...?"

She exhaled. "But he said that keeping our relationship is killing our relationship,"

You stiffened. If that didn't hit you so hard. Your chest tightened, as you felt a pang of pain in your heart; you never thought you will relate to someone ever that it will hurt.

You inhaled sharply, struggling to keep it together as all the emotions are raging through you.

"Did you explain why you didn't want Joe to know?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I told him that Dad won't like it and he wouldn't support it, and he'd be very angry. He said he understands— but I know he doesn't, Y/N. I feel it. He isn't okay with it, and it bothers me so much, because it might threaten our relationship." Her eyes glistened with tears welling up in her eyes, under the light. Her voice was starting to strain. It shows how visibly upset she was with the issue, and it pains you so hard how you can easily understand and put yourself in their situation, because you are in the exact position.

"I don't know what to do. Do I keep it from Dad and jeopardize my relationship with Eddie, or jeopardize my relationship with my Dad by telling him about Eddie?"

She turned to you, confused and torn up; it was like a cry for comfort and advice.

You pressed your lips together tightly, as much as you try to keep at bay, the emotions surged, putting a crack on the dam of your tears. You swore to God that this day is a bitch. Barry should be here. He should be comforting the girl he's in love with, not you.

You were okay. You said you were okay. You were gonna get over it and you'll be fine, and now you're just questioning everything you thought you felt.

"You can't keep doing this to you or to him, Iris. You can't dictate who he's going to tell, because he's part of this relationship as much as you are. It must have felt so suffocating, and controlling, and he has to look at your Dad every single day, and it feels as though he's betraying him and—" you paused, realizing you were getting carried away. Your voice almost wavered if you hadn't stopped.

You realized two fundamental truths, and it hit like a freaking wrecking ball and Miley Cyrus was on it—one, Wells was avoiding the elephant in the room earlier. And so were you.

Two, you weren't talking about Eddie anymore. You were talking about yourself.

You felt the warm water pooling in your eyes. You know you have to take it down a notch or you'll burst. So you laughed, not that it helped.

"I guess my point is he's gonna explode, and you don't let it get to that," you told her, looking into her eyes, through her soul to prove your point.

"What am I gonna do then?"

You let out a breath, uncertain. If you knew, you would have a perfect love life right now. "I don't know. Talk to him, I guess. Work this out; compromise,"

Silence befell, the tension was intense and uneasy. You and Iris may never be bound by blood, but you're still sisters. And it became evident how you two have more similarities than being in a secret relationship, when you both turn your heads to side to hide your face. To wipe the tears that spilled and compose yourself.

After that, you both turned back, but still didn't speak. Iris seems to be thinking deeply, maybe considering your insights. While you were occupied with your own mind's thoughts.

"When did you become an expert to all this?" She joked.

You chuckled. "Since I dated Danny in College,"

She groaned upon hearing your college boyfriend's name. "Ugh. I remember that idiot."

He really was an idiot.

Debbie isn't your name, and you sure as hell ain't a downer either. You didn't come out to drink to cry about this. You weren't supposed to at all.

Tonight, you need to distract yourself from whatever you're feeling. Laying eyes on the karaoke, there was an instant ding in your head.

You looked at Iris. "You know what? Let's not think about this tonight. Let's have fun and we can worry about this tomorrow." You got off your stool and grabbed Iris' wrist.

Not having a chance to protest, you half-dragged her to the man in charge of the karaoke. You grabbed the song book and searched for a song. Iris did give you a weird look, obviously confused with sudden mood changes, but you shrugged it off.

That night, you sang, you drank, you laughed, and cheered so hard. You knew it was embarrassing, but you were desperate.

Each time you feel your eyes water, tears threatening to spill, or your heart aching, you distract yourself with another song or drink, or just pretend to pay attention to what's in front of you. You tried to make sure that your mind won't think.

Your emotions are off-limits tonight. You don't want to feel them tonight. Tomorrow, maybe, but tonight, you can't. It's just all too much to bear right now.

***

Damn. Almost cried when I writing this. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you share it and give it some love. Thanks!

Part IV

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hauntedcloset-blog1 · 6 years ago

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Bearly a God || Eddie and Nora

“What the fuck? What the goddamn fuck?”

“Boo.”

Nora Pine, mayor wannabe, owner of Wallspace, proud citizen of Ashkent Creek, decided today was the perfect day to take her menagerie of animals and go for a nice picnic in the woods. Which was how the scene was set. Sitting picturesque under a large black gothic umbrella, Nora was sharing a feast with her closest friends. Barnabas, the horse, ate from a large pile of hay. Princess Fluffy, the caiman crocodilian took bites of a large chicken, spiders crawled over containers of food, bats hung in the trees around and a snake laid patiently across Nora's shoulders as she took a bite out of a rarely cooked hunk of meat.

Recently repaired camera in hand, Eddie embarked on a mission through the woods. His head needed clearing though he promised himself that he had just been spending too much time at home. The night spent with Owen, the anxiety that it had brought on, had left a mark on his psychethat he refused to acknowledge. Questions had popped up in his mind that he wasn’t ready to answer, so he began to hyperfixate on the supernatural underbelly of Ashkent more than he previously had. Currently, the sound of some creature weeping was guiding him through the forest. It sounded human, but looked like someone shaved their dog and then let it melt in the sun like a toy soldier. He thought it was kind of cute. The trail of tears stopped abruptly when the creature the Squonk found a menagerie of creatures and the presence of one Nora Pine. The camera that had been pointed at the ground slowly panned up and recorded the scene for a moment as Eddie muttered the words, “What the fuck?”

The scent of salt tear joined the party as a cute hairless bear joined the clearing. "Hello friend, please help yourself to anything you'd like to eat." She told the obviously supernatural creature, taking another bite of the barely cooked hunk of meat. The trailing footsteps had not been missed by her as the sweet scent of a moderately scared adult human entered her senses. His smell of soap and green apples was heightened, adding a bit of sulfur to the scent.Nora inhaled deeply, enjoying the second meal that had come to join them. Staring blankly into the camera she waited for the man to put it down before saying. "What about you? Are you going to join?" She pointed to a spot near her and her black and gray checkered picnic blanket.

Lowering his camera and powering it down, Eddie simply stood there dumbfounded for a moment. The scene that he’d walked in on looked like some sort of renaissance painting. “Join?” He echoed tepidly. The thought of making himself at home had not even crossed his mind. “I didn’t bring anything.” Ever afraid of imposing, Eddie was hesitant to join. “What, uh, what would I be joining anyway? You’re kinda givin’ me some godly vibes, which I dig, but I’m not a particularly devout individual.” He held the camera in front of himself awkwardly. “Promise not to smite me?”

"Yes, join." Recognization was slowly dawning on Nora, now that she saw the man behind the camera. Eddie. She followed his vlog. He liked supernatural things in Ashkent. She liked supernatural things and Ashkent. Of course, she'd found and followed him a long time. But then he said she looked godly. Nora saw the whole prank unfolding before her and knew, in that instant, she had to take it. "I know you aren't devout, Eddie. That's why I'm here to talk to you today." Reaching for the power within her, she created an illusion over herself, a tall black shadow, around 20 feet tall, with bright red eyes flickering in and out. "We need to change that." She smiled up at him, a finger stroking the face of the snake wrapped around her. "What would it take?"

The fear of God had been delivered directly to Eddie’s heart. He lost his balance trying to take a step back and ended up falling on his ass. Hitched up on his elbows, his eyes widened at the sight before him. It was too convincing to believe in at least a little. Not to mention the fact that his inner turmoil had pushed him to believe that he could use some spiritual cleansing. The vampire bite, the drunken night spent thinking he could be the reason someone died, as well as few of his other greatest hits. Eddie, mouth agape, found himself unable to reply for a solid few seconds. “Uh, I don’t… it’s not really something I think about a lot.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Are you gonna kill me?”

Eddie's fear drifted openly and heavily towards her, Nora took a moment to breathe in deeply, consuming the large amount of fear emanating from her poor new victim. It was a shame. She really was a fan of his vlog, but who was she to let a good joke go. "No Eddie, I am not going to kill you." If a face that refused to use its features to make expressions could look 'kindly', that was what Nora was going for. However, she had the feeling she just looked a bit conctipated. After all, she wasn't used to telling her facial features to move. "This is a picnic, a start of joy and new beginnings. Please, dust yourself off and come join. We've got much to discuss." She took another large bite of the barely cooked meat, refusing to drop her direct eye contact. "Confess your sins."

The news that death was not in his immediate future soothed Eddie to a degree. His heart took the chance to calm down a bit and attempt to make sense out of the situation he found himself in. Gods, as far as he knew, didn’t make house calls in this day and age. He wondered if it was some sort of fae trick, but a trickster would have probably been more killing to kill him. As long as he didn’t tell the being his name -- wait, it seemed to already know that fact about him. Fear was bubbling in his gut once more. Regardless of what title belonged to the startling creature, it had already proven itself to be strong. Animals revered it and it didn’t seem to be bound to a particular shape, though it did seem to issues with facial expressions. “My sins?” He stammered as he stood up and brushed himself off. “I ate pork the other day… does that still count or have we moved passed the deli aisle?” It was an attempt at levity paired with an awkward laugh.

The squonk seemed to be having difficulty finding food at her table. Considering it was filled mainly with meat, Nora decided that would be the likely problem. Reaching into one of her picnic baskets, she pulled out the salad she made, just in case someone joined, but had no plans on eating. She laid it out for the naked little bear and gave it a reassuring nod. "Please, dig in friend." Her attention turned back to Eddie, and as he talked about eating pork, as his sin, she reached for the power in her. Projecting a woman with a pig's face, just as big, but more detailed to replace her. It flickered out. "Forget everything the bible told you Eddie. There were religions before Christianity and there will be religions after. I am much older and far less concerned by what people eat." She emphasized the point by taking a big bite of her meat. "Now will I have to ask you to join a third time, or will you take a seat and stay awhile without necessary force?" To face the facts, Nora is a glutton for fear.

Benevolent was the word that came to mind when the figure offered options to the melted dog. Eddie noticed the Squonk softly crying into the salad and felt as though he had encountered what was truly a kindred spirit. The projection he had been shown shook him, but he reminded himself that he had seen worse. No stranger to nightmares, Eddie simply closed his eyes and told himself it wasn’t real. Even if it was, he felt that denial made for a better friend than fear. “Forget the bible; got it.” He announced as he hesitantly reopened his eyes. “I.. I’ll sit. No need to force me, promise.” Uncomfortable in his skin, Eddie realized that this ordeal had already forced him into a dirty, sweaty state. He felt truly disgusting, but the so-called-God didn’t seem to be the type who would let him take a break to go shower. He sat among the animals and awaited further instructions.

Eddie took his seat at her picnic, after many times asking him. The fear seemed like it was starting to lessen, something she didn't like, but he was getting used to his current situation. Sitting across from him she summoned an illusion of a pitch black spirit with ice falling from its eyes that went soaring towards him, an audible illusion of a screech filling their tiny place in the woods and causing birds nearby to flee. As the illusion swopped after Eddie, Nora had reached back in the grass behind her to grab another snake friend. The illusion gone, she wrapped it carefully around his shoulders, ensuring that he wouldn't be running anywhere soon. "What is the worst thing you've done, Eddie?" She wondered if or when he'd recall their online conversation and call her out for who she was. Or even ask what she was the god of. That seemed like an obvious question.

Unsure of why a God would be so interested in frightening him, Eddie had not seen the spirit coming. He nearly fell back once more, barely catching himself. Fear had certainly reintroduced itself into his system though, this time, it was paired with frustration. Eddie took a deep breath and allowed the weight of the snake to be placed on his shoulders. He didn’t recognize what kind of snake it was, but it seemed docile enough. He would make sure not to make any sudden moves around its head. His attention turned back to the figure that had beckoned him to sit. This was the first time he’d really gotten a good, up close look at Nora. There was a strange sense of familiarity as he slowly pieced together that he had seen her before. She was asking for his greatest sins when gods were usually on the up-and-up when it came to that sort of thing. Frustration struggled to become his main emotion, but he fought against it. Eddie played a part for a living as an internet personality. He knew how to conjure up a mood. Quickly, he looked away from Nora and and shook his head. “I don’t know.” He said distantly. “I’m not sure if I should talk about it… even to someone as great and powerful as you.”

A surge of fear, then the fear ebbed. Wasn't he scared anymore? Nora stared at him, wondering where the fear went. She had done this for fear. Where had the fear gone? She examined him, a head tilting to the side as she considered. Carefully taking a bite of her meat she motioned a hand asking him to continue. "The great and powerful should never be content to sit idly elsewhere while their creations fumble in the dark. The great and powerful should be hands on in places with trouble. They should strive to make things happen, and enjoy themselves while here. I am here to help, Eddie. Don't you think that's a good thing? Tell me so I may help you."

The way Nora spoke was almost convincing; she certainly had a way with words. The illusions, still unexplained to Eddie, had also nearly pushed him to the brink of believing. It would’ve been nice, he thought, to feel as though he was important enough for a God to take interest in him. Maybe that was the most unbelievable part, but there was too much going on for him to focus on his own self-pity. “It’s a… a very good thing.” His eyes closed for a moment. “But, you see, it’s not something that I have already done. It’s something that I’m going to do.” He raised a hand, reacting as if it was acting independently from the rest of him, and sent it forward to carefully push against Nora’s shoulder. “I pushed the future mayor of Ashkent Creek.”

A hand raised he pushed her. He. Pushed. Her. Well, now this game was truly getting fun. Carefully she unwrapped the snake from his shoulders. "Eddie." Nora talked as she removed the snake from her own shoulders. "I am a kind an benevolent god." Slowly she made her way around the food and the animals, careful not to crush any underfoot. "That is why I am giving you a three-second head start." She turned to face him, emotionless, cold. "Run."

His head canted to the side, wondering for a moment if she was truly serious about this. Realizing that, if she was, he was running out of time. His feet finally listened to what his brain was telling them to do and began to run in the direction he’d originally come from. The weeping of the Squonk that had led him into this situation became faint, but Eddie sensed that something even more sinister was on its way.

This was fun. Making new friends was a blast. Eddie was such a fun playmate, Nora watched him take off in the opposite direction, fear dripping from him and leaving a bountiful trail for her to consume while following. "Ready or not, Eddie, here I come." The bear slid over her like a second skin, once something she feared but now an extension of herself. Hands turned into giant paws topped with knife-like claws. Her jaw jutted outward, growing for the numerous and large teeth that emerged. Then there were her eyes. Normally they were a forgetful green, nothing too extravagant but pretty none the less. In her bugbear state, they glowed red and fearsome. She let out a triumphant yodel as she began to barrel after Eddie.

The sounds coming from the forest only made Eddie run faster. A quick glance behind him revealed the bear that was chasing him. As much as he wanted to assume that he had been correct about Nora, this certainly was cementing the fact that she was some sort of ancient God. There wasn’t much time to think for Eddie as his body gradually grew winded and began to threaten to stop working all together. He was barely a few feet ahead of the great beast and something told him that he was about to lose that lead.

Nora would be lying if she said her whole mind was on this chase. The wind blew through her pelt and her mind wandered to 'I don't run enough. This is fun. Maybe Eddie will be my running partner.' He was slowing down. He could use the practice. His fear was surmounting, and Nora savored its smell and taste. As an actual food dish, it would be horrible. Green apples, soap, and sulfur. But as a fear? Delicious. As he slowed down just a fraction of an inch Nora sprang herself on him, dragging him down to the ground with her, and all her bear weight, delicately placed on top of him. Nora wanted to play with him, not crush him, after all.

Eddie actually managed to let out a muffled scream as he scrambled to cover his face with his arms as if that would protect him from being mauled. It didn’t take long him to notice the fact that teeth had not torn his flesh asunder. “What the fuck?” He mumbled breathlessly as a humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “What the goddamn fuck?” He peaked up at the bear through the space between his arms.

As Eddie peaked up at her through the space between his arms Nora's long bear tongue licked his nose. The game was complete and she won. Shifting back into a human, completely naked and very unashamed of that fact Nora stared in her monotone way at Eddie. "Boo." This had been so fun. If only he'd peed his pants. It would have been the perfect game.

#touchofchatzy #bearly a god #in which eddie is a dumbass

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aion-rsa · 8 years ago

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Black Adam’s 15 Most Brutal Kills

The DC universe is full of dark heroes and villains, but you’d be hard pressed to find those more brutal than Black Adam. It was announced quite a while ago that Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson was cast as Black Adam in the upcoming “Shazam” film and later on in his own spin-off film. He is one of DC’s lesser known properties so it’s understandable if you hadn’t heard of him up until this point. If you haven’t, you probably don’t know what to expect. That’s why we’re here.

RELATED: Web-Slayer: 16 Times Spider-Man Killed

Simply put, expect a lot of blood. Black Adam is the ruler (or “protector” as he puts it) of a fictional Middle East country called Kahndaq. With the powers of the Egyptian gods, he rules with an iron fist and does not tolerate crime or threats. It’s doubtful that the word mercy is even in his vocabulary. Just take a look at these brutal kills.

THE EGYPTIAN PHARAOH

We were first introduced to Black Adam in “The Marvel Family” #1 (written by Otto Binder with artwork by C.C Beck). Back then, however, he was a villain through and through, nowhere near as complex a character as he is today. He was corrupted by the power of the gods and took the throne simply by storming into the Pharaoh’s throne room and yelling, “Get off the throne Pharaoh, I want it!” You have to at least respect how he gets straight to the point.

Obviously, no Pharaoh would just give up their throne for anyone who storms into their palace. So, of course, Teth-Adam was greeted by guards, who he easily dispatched. Annoyed by the Pharaoh’s resistance, Adam grabbed him and straight broke his neck. For the 1940s, that was quite a brutal death to be shown in the pages of a comic book, and it would only escalate as the years went on.

AMAN

A few tweaks were made to his origin story in “Justice League Vol 2” #20 (written by Geoff Jones and illustrated by Gary Frank, Brad Anderson and Dezi Sienty). A captive Billy Batson sees Adam’s past, beginning with Aman and his uncle Adam having just escaped enslavement in ancient Egypt thanks to their gods-given powers. It becomes apparent, however, that he and his nephew don’t share the same values. As the boy utters the words, his uncle betrays him and takes the power for himself.

You don’t actually see the boy die, but the last panel shows Adam reaching over his oblivious nephew’s head, cloaked in the shadow. We’re left with the assumption that the poor boy went the same way as that Pharaoh in the original story. This defines Black Adam’s views. He’s willing to do anything for what he perceives to be the greater good. Rather than even attempt to change the current regime in Kahndaq, Adam sacrifices his nephew and frees the city himself, showing no mercy.

KOBRA

Life doesn’t mean all that much to Teth-Adam, but he cares for his friends and will exact vengeance for them. Kobra found that out the hard way when his plot to destroy several major cities resulted in the death of Atom Smasher’s mother in “JSA” #51 (written by Geoff Jones and David S. Goyer, with artwork by Leonard Kirk, Keith Champagne and John Kalisz). While Kobra did manage to escape the wrath of every other hero searching for him, he found himself at the mercy of Atom Smasher and Black Adam who, despite Kobra’s threats, punches straight through the villain’s chest, ripping his heart out.

He tends to do that a lot (as you’ll probably discover when you go through this list), though not always to people like Kobra, who most definitely deserved it. On this occasion, he did it for the right reasons: because his friend and brother-in-arms had been wounded by the loss of his mother. He ripped Kobra’s heart out because that’s what friends do. Right?

PSYCHO PIRATE

Working with Lex Luthor, the regally dressed Psycho-Pirate bravely pits himself against the DC Multiverse’s most powerful heroes in “Infinite Crisis” #6 (written by Geoff Jones with artwork by George Perez, Ivan Reis, Phil Jimenez, Joe Bennett, Andy Lanning, Jerry Ordway and many others). However, the one he should have feared most wasn’t one of them. Immediately after Nightwing and Superboy free Adam from his imprisonment by Alexander Luthor Jr, Black Adam comes across Psycho Man, who had manipulated Adam into using his powers. Before Psycho Pirate can finish speaking, however, Adam shoves his fingers through Psycho Pirate’s eyes and pushes his Medusa mask through his head.

This was a brutal, quick, bloody and most of all, completely unnecessary attack, though the ruthless Black Adam would most likely disagree. Again, it’s just another example of why it’s a terrible idea to cross Black Adam. He’s unforgiving at best, and worst of all, he seems to enjoy the violence, especially when it is righteous.

NOOSE

As we’ve already seen, Black Adam is a master of violent acts. Through them, he inspires in his foes a deep fear, a terror in the hearts of those who would stand against him. On rare occasions, his use of violence can also be seen as an act of compassion. In “52” #3 (written by Geoff Jones, Grant Morrison, Greg Rucka and Mark Waid, illustrated by Keith Griffin, Joe Bennett, Ruy Jose and Alex Sinclair) for example, Black Adam is approached by Intergang with quite an offer in exchange for safe passage through Kahndaq for their weapon shipments. Among their offerings is a young, blindfolded woman who a thug, Noose, treats harshly when she tries to escape.

Black Adam is opposed to slavery, having lived through it himself. Seeing how the Intergang thugs treated this woman and sought to use his nation, his decision to allow them to travel through his kingdom had been made early on. He reaches out and crushes Noose’s face without hesitation. The woman turns out to be Adrianna Tomaz, who you’ll read more about in just a bit.

TERRA-MAN

In that same issue, Black Adam commits another act of horrendous violence, this time in a display of power and intolerance for crime and criminal activity. In “52” #3, Adam gathers the press in front of the Kahndaq embassy and, flying above them all, reveals his dissatisfaction with the way heroes like Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman have fought against crime. It’s not enough for him. To really make that point clear, he grabs a very confused Terra-Man in mid-air and rips the poor villain in half. His reasoning? People like him don’t deserve to live.

It may not have been eloquent, but it was definitely indicative of how committed he is to his extreme views. He doesn’t care that people are afraid, he wants them to be. What’s even more frightening is how coldly he does it. His face bears no change in the unfeeling expression as he tears Terra-Man in half, as though his body (nor his life) was worth nothing at all. We know that Terra-Man acts out of care for the environment and has tried to kill Superman out of fear for Earth, so despite his claims, he is definitely a villain. Still, we have to wonder, does the punishment really fit the crime?

SOBEK

It’s heartening to see that someone so corrupted by anger and pain can change for the better. This was true for Adam after meeting Adrianna Tomaz, the woman who would become his beloved Isis. Along with Adrianna’s brother, Osiris, Adam had a family who watched over Kahndaq. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last. In “52” #44 (written by Geoff Jones, Grant Morrison, Greg Rucka and Mark Waid, illustrated by Eddy Barrows, Dan Green, Rodney Ramos and David Baron), after a period of odd turmoil for Kahndaq, Adam discovers he has been betrayed by Sobek, who had once posed as a simple friendly creature. How does he discover this? He sees Osiris’ half-devoured corpse with Sobek nearby, revealing himself to be Yurrd the Unknown, a horseman of the apocalypse. Immediately after, they start attacking and foolish Sobek is the first to die. Tears in his eyes well up and Adam splits his crocodile jaws apart.

It’s an intense fight, both physically and emotionally, so we can understand why he’d choose to deal with these creatures so brutally. He even says that they should be treated as monsters before he goes on to slaughter the Horsemen. Unfortunately, this also leads to Adrianna’s demise, which pushes Adam over the edge… as if he wasn’t already cascading down its side already.

THE ENTIRE NATION OF BIALYA

The issue that follows our previous entry, “52” #45 (written by Geoff Jones, Grant Morrison, Greg Rucka and Mark Wald, illustrated by Keith Giffen, Chris Batista, Jamal Igle, Rodney Ramos and Alex Sinclair) has Adam searching for the horseman, Death. It takes him to the nation of Bialya. Racked with grief and frustrated with his search, Adam unleashes his rage on the entire nation, blaming them for the deaths of his family. We’re left with one panel showing his power blazing hot white, but given that the previous panels showed him brutalizing civilians, we can guess how his rampage ended.

This occasion didn’t see justice served. For the most part, the people of Bialya obviously had nothing to do with the horsemen of the apocalypse, but Adam, ruled by his anger in that moment, didn’t care. Could you really blame him? This moment in the story arc is made all the more tragic when you remember that prior to this, Isis had been showing him the value of life and he had become a better man for it. That was all gone now in a tragic fall, indeed.

DEATH

He finally finds Death in the same issue, after the massacre at Bialya. Death, or Azraeuz, has evidently been strengthened by the deaths of every man, woman and child. Death quickly finds out that even then, his power can’t help him against Black Adam, who savagely beats and interrogates him. We last see Death bleeding from his skull as Black Adam presses his fingers into it, telling Death that he will spend the rest of the night slowly ending his life.

This is one of those moments when Black Adam really proves that he’s a force to be reckoned with. Taking on Death itself, as though it was nothing more than just another enemy, really shows us how immense the power of Shazam really is. Even when the death of an entire nation empowered the horseman of the apocalypse, Black Adam was able to overcome it. How much of that was god-power and how much was Adam’s pure strength of will was left unclear.

TERRA

So far, for the most part, we’ve shown you the villains he’s killed, but in the eyes of many, Black Adam is a villain himself. In the “World War III” story arc, following the destruction of Bialya, pretty much every super hero there was acted to stop Black Adam’s rampage across the world. That included Terra, a Teen Titan who stood in Adam’s way in “World War III” #3 (written by John Ostrander, illustrated by Tom Derenick, Norm Rapmund), threatening to bring the war Adam wanted to him. In the end, they were just words. Adam responded in kind but backed it up by punching a hole through Terra’s chest, ending her life in front of the other Titans.

It was completely unnecessary and driven by rage. Seeing as how Terra was more of a hero (with an admittedly shady past), she didn’t deserve to die, but that didn’t matter to Adam. He was still blinded by his loss and he needed to take out all his rage on the people around him, whether it was right or not.

YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN

Why was Terra so fixated on taking down Black Adam? In the same issue, the Teen Titans attacked Adam and faced catastrophic defeat. While many survived, a few, like Young Frankenstein, who bravely took on Adam in defence of his friends, weren’t so lucky. Young Frankenstein grappled with Adam and as a result, lost both his arms, bleeding out. He lasted a while after, but in the end, he didn’t make it.

It’s a tragic blow to the Teen Titans and we know that Adam is only acting out of grief, so you might not be able to help but feel torn in this. Of course, the fact that Young Frankenstein was just trying to save his friends might earn Adam some hate. Not to worry though, despite the massive amounts of blood that spilled from his shoulders, Young Frankie shows up again, having literally pulled himself together after having his corpse blown up, as revealed in “Infinite Halloween Special.”

ADRIANNA TOMAZ

We know what you’re thinking: “But that’s his wife! Why would he do that?” What a fantastic question! He didn’t really have a choice. Following the events of the “World War III” story arc, Adam starts to lie low, essentially powerless and desperate to get his wife back. He travelled alone with the bones of his late wife until eventually, in “Black Adam: The Dark Age” #2 (written by Peter Tomasi, illustrated by Doug Mahnke, Christian Alamy and Nathan Eyring), he’s able to use a Lazarus pit to restore her body, albeit temporarily.

After a tender reunion, they quickly discover that her form is decaying once more. To spare her from a slow and cruel death, Adam ends her life quickly. This death, though still bloody and brutal, was an act of mercy and one of the few times Black Adam can claim to kill out of love. It’s also one of the rare occasions when we actually want it to happen that way.

A YETI

Straight after he’s forced to kill his wife, he exits the caves in the Himalayas where he found the Lazarus pit and is set upon by a monstrous Yeti. Even though Adam was essentially rendered powerless by Zatanna and Captain Marvel, he proves himself to be a formidable foe for the Yeti. With one powerful swing of his knife, he guts the Yeti. It doesn’t end there, though. Being the resourceful mortal man he is, Adam grabs the Yeti’s intestines, which continue to stream out from the creature’s belly, and he uses it to rappel down the mountain. Eat your heart our, Bear Grylls.

It never really seems to matter that his powers have been locked away from him. Throughout “Black Adam: The Dark Age,” we see that his determination and strength of will seem to be more than enough to carry him through whatever the world can throw at him… before then leaving it bloodied and broken.

ASIM MUHANNAD

This was one of Black Adam’s first few noble kills, back when he was trying to free Kahndaq. He and the rest of the Justice Society venture through the current regime’s facilities, eradicating their military before making their way to the dictator himself, Asim Muhannad in “JSA” #56 (written by Geoff Johns with artwork by Don Kramer, Keith Champagne and John Kalisz). The dictator is dethroned after Black Adam tosses him under Atom Smasher, who angrily stomps on him like an insect.

This brutal kill is a fantastic example of how charismatic a leader Black Adam can be. He was able to persuade Atom Smasher that the bloodshed was necessary and that they were really doing good in Kahndaq. This isn’t just a great display of Adam’s brutality, it’s a great example of how willing others are to shed blood for him in horrific ways. Asim’s crushed head can attest to that.

SIVANA’S ASSISTANT

In the “New 52” universe, Doctor Sivana is a scientist who becomes frustrated with science and instead, turns to magic. He seeks out Teth-Adam, following ancient legends until, with the aid of an excavation team, he finds his tomb in “Justice League” #11 (written by Geoff Jones with artwork by Gary Frank and Brad Anderson). It’s not what he expects, however. Instantly, a burst of magic blasts Sivana’s face and he finds himself in the grasp of the ancient Black Adam, who’s holding his assistant in the other hand. Upon finding out the assistant doesn’t speak his language, Adam scorches him with lightning and lets him fall to the ground.

He’s a cold ruler, impatient and uncaring for anyone he doesn’t deem necessary. Keep in mind, Adam didn’t know anything about the people who woke him up. He just wanted to find the wizard and he didn’t have the time for anyone who couldn’t help him do it. That’s a great re-introduction to the character and pretty much sums him up, despite all of his previous acts of heroism. The life of another doesn’t mean much to him. In fact, if it hinders his own sense of justice, he is quick to extinguish it.

Which of Black Adam’s brutal kills are your favorite? Let us know in the comments!

DC’S “SHAZAM,” starring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson as Black Adam, is scheduled for release in 2019.

The post Black Adam’s 15 Most Brutal Kills appeared first on CBR.com.

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Missed Classic: The Archers – Won or Lost? (With Final Rating)

By Ilmari

Last time I managed to complete two of the four parts of The Archer. Now, it’s time to try the two remaining ones.

Part three: Eddie Grundy

Trevor Harrison, the voice of Eddie Grundy

After a droll old conservative and a love-sick teenager it’s time to let the comic relief in. Eddie Grundy was born in 1951 to Joe and Susan Grundy. The Grundy family didn’t really play any role in the life of Ambridge until 1970s, when Joe Grundy was introduced as a tenant farmer at Grange Farm and a widower with two sons, Alf and Eddie. Alf was always an on/off-character, who spent a lot of time elsewhere – usually in jail – while Eddie soon joined his father to become staples of Ambridge life. From the very beginning Grundys got the role of perpetual underdogs, who never had the opportunity or good luck to rise above their working class position.

Come the eighties, Eddie Grundy had already settled into the role of a lovable rogue. He spends a lot of his time at Grange Farm, although he also hopes to make it big as a country singer. In 1980s, Eddie has recently married Clarrie, the daughter of farm labourer Jethro Larkin, and this marriage will last all the way to the present day. And oh yes, he has ferrets as pets.

New arrival

Really, do I have to spell it? You have to choose between Chicken Kiev, a ferret and a baby, which one is going to interest the audience?

The problem is that the Grundy family is poor and Eddie doesn’t have the money for an extension that a third child would require. So, Eddie has to make one himself. He starts digging something, puts his boot on it and falls into septic tank. I think I’ve set the standards for the rest of the season.

In the end this plot line goes nowhere – Clarrie wasn’t really pregnant after all.

The love life of Joe Grundy

Joe Grundy refuses to do work and is just a nuisance. I make Eddie suggest Joe could move in with Martha Woodford, the village shopkeeper and a widower. Joe asks Martha to a movie, where the romantic atmosphere affects him and he proposes to Martha. Martha is excited, but Joe backs up when he hears that Martha would want costly wedding with champagne and caviar.

Holiday

Clarrie wants to go on a holiday. Having no clue where to take this plot line, I make Eddie suggest that Clarrie should look at paper for ideas. At first Clarrie wants to visit Disneyland, but then she settles for Torremolinos, since Andie and Fergy went somewhere nearby. Although it would be a nice little surprise that they would find on the spot that their hotel has not yet been built, that gets a reprimand from BBC, because Spanish tourist council complained.

The sad tale of Jumbo the sow

Joe Grundy has purchased an old sow, Jumbo, from the market. The problem is to get the pig back to the farm. I make Eddie put Jumbo at the back of his van, together with his wife and children. Then the pig makes a mess and Clarrie won’t have it. Eddie tries to sooth the sow with some music and she does like “June is busting all over”, but gets all restless with Eddie’s hit record “Poor Pig”.

Jumbo puts her weight onto the back of the van and flies out. Where does it land? As you can see from the picture, on the bonnet of Jack Woolley’s Bentley, driven by Higgs. Jack tells Eddie to move the pig, but she won’t budge. They have to drive to Grey Gables, and when Eddie goes to ask for Jumbo, he hears that Jean Paul, “Wally’s froggy cook, has cut Jumbo into little cutlets”.

Audience loves the story, censorship brigade not so much – they are after my head because of Jumbo’s fate.

Eddie’s cars

Eddie’s van is on its last legs and its doors keep falling off. I decide Eddie should get it renovated. Later I learn that Hollerton Motors did a lousy job, since the doors open just when Eddie has a load of poultry in it. Eddie phones infuriated to Hollerton Motors and demands a repay. The company suggests a new car in return, and Eddie chooses a Triumph Stag.

Later, Eddies notices that brakes of Triumph are very sluggish. He decides to get the brakes fixed, but then someone nicks the car. “Oh well, it wasn’t much use to getting the pigs on the market.” BBC thinks I am getting too unrealistic – how can the Grundys afford so many car repairs?

Fred the Ferret

Clarrie doesn’t like that Eddie is keeping a pet ferret Fred in their bedroom. Eddie puts ferret in the kitchen, where his son William pokes his finger into the ferret cage. Result is Fred biting William.

I could let Eddie bang either Fred’s or William’s head, but this seems too drastic a method. Instead, Eddie lures Freddie away with Clarrie’s chicken, and Clarries gets mad, because it was their dinner. Fred is banished outside.

After a few days, Fred’s cage door is open. Eddie finds him in the shed, nibbling his way through some sacks of feed. Now the ferret goes out into the dog house and has strict rations and no treats for a month.

After all the turmoil, Fred gets sick and doesn’t want to eat at all. Eddie calls in the local vet, Martin Lambert, which always means a call from Veterinary Association afterwards. Old Martin doesn’t fail us. He insults Eddie for calling him in to see a ferret, Eddie insults him back and the next thing you know is that Eddie’s nose is bleeding. Eddie goes to see the local doctor, who thinks that the only condition Eddie has is an unhealthy obsession with ferrets.

“The whole world is going barmy. I sit and wonder why the world is not kinder to ferrets.”

The Jailhouse Rock

Eddie’s bigger brother, Alf, is getting out of prison. Since he has no money nor job, Alf wants to be with his kin. Eddie dislikes the idea and goes to meet him with Clarrie. Eddie tries to persuade Alf not to come, but Alf starts to cry, which makes Clarrie go soft and invite Alf in.

Eddie has to now decide a proper way to celebrate his brother’s arrival. I at first suggest that Eddie just gets some cans in, but he and Joe drink them before Alf arrives. Instead, Eddie arranges a party at Cat and Fiddle, a local pub. Clarrie and Eddie go to the pub, and Clarrie complains about people being sick. Then Alf arrives with his lady friend, Delectable Dolores, and the party really starts. Clarrie can’t stand it and goes home.

When Eddie, Alf and Dolores get back to the farm, the party continues. Alf gets the lager out and Dolores dances in tune with Joe Grundy’s gramophone. Clarrie doesn’t like it and threatens to move to her father with the kids. Eddie begs her to come back, which she does, but only on the condition of getting a new dress. Eddie sends Alf and Dolores to bed and breakfast – at his father-in-law.

Country road

Eddie’s band is finally hitting it big, and they got a real gig! The only problem is that Eddie needs fancy cowboy boots. I make Eddie go around the town asking for work, and Phil Archer hires him to help with harvesting. Unfortunately, Eddie backs the combine into the shed.

Next, Brian Aldridge (Phil Archer’s brother-in-law) hires Eddie to paint some holiday cottages. While Eddie is whitewashing the fence, his friend Bugsy arrives with biker girls. Eddie invites them in to have some quality time. While they are busy with drinking and smoking and Eddie has his hands filled with a biker girl called Big Bertha, gamekeeper Tom Ferret bursts in and Bertha hurls a can at him.

Eddie ends up nicked because of all the damage done to cottages. I get in trouble too. BBC is furious, because my script pandered into lower instincts. Besides, people were worried what happened to old Tom. I get sacked!

I start all over again from the spot where Eddie needed some money. This time, I make him raid Joe Grundy’s sock drawer. Eddie finds £ 40, but also a love letter. Eddie decides to leave the money and blackmail Joe with the letter – unless Joe will improve his wages, Eddie will pin the letter up at the local pub. Joe does give him a raise, but only for two quids. Eddie cannot afford the new boots and has to wear his old wellies for the gig.

Part 4: Nelson Gabriel

While I managed to complete third part with only one reload, the fourth and final part was a different matter. I tried different tactics five or six times, but without success. I suspect the ending won’t be worth the effort of continuing, so winning the game is left as an exercise for the reader.

Jack May, Voice of Nelson Gabriel

Unlike with the previous characters, it was difficult to find information about Nelson Gabriel. Main reason for this is that the actor Jack May – and with him, the character he portrayed – died in the nineties, while the majority of Archer pages on the web focus on the current set of characters. Still, from what I’ve managed to learn, Nelson had been a major figure of the show almost from the very beginning.

Nelson Gabriel was born to Walter and Annie Gabriel in 1933. Gabriel family had traditionally been blacksmiths of Ambridge, but Walter had chosen another career and worked as a tenant farmer. Walter’s wife had died young, and Walter spent the rest of his life, until his death in 1988, dedicated to his son, always willing to turn his blind eye to Nelson’s failings.

And failings Nelson was rumored to have. Notoriously, he had been suspected of the 1967 Borchester mail van robbery, especially as he had faked his death just around the incident. Jury never found enough evidence to convict him, but rumours of illicitly gained riches persisted.

Nelson tries to keep a veneer of respectability in his role as a man of the world, owning both a sophisticated wine bar and an antique shop. Still, local police force has doubts about Nelson: could he be selling stolen goods?

Spoiled brat

Elizabeth Archer has a considerable debt for Nelson’s wine bar. Nelson can threaten to phone her dad and he can even go to Sicily to learn some creative ways for collecting debts (although Italian embassy will then complain to BBC about this misrepresentation of harmless Sicilian farmers). Eventually they come to an agreement that Elizabeth will do some cleaning for Nelson. I have little sympathy for Elizabeth, the whining teenager, but I must feel pity when I see how Nelson treats her. Nelson makes her polish all the brass in his house – and he has lot of brass items. “What it is to see an Archer toil!”

Nelson’s regular cleaner, Elsa, goes after Elizabeth, pointing out all the smears she hasn’t noticed. Elizabeth can’t take it anymore, so she pours a bucket of water on Elsa. Nelson gives Elsa an extra £ 10 as a consolation money and adds it to Elizabeth’s debt.

Later, Elizabeth is hired as Ms. Snowy the ice cream lady and makes enough money to clear her debt and to buy a bottle of Monet for Nelson. Nelson thinks he might have chosen the wrong career, if ice cream sellers are paid so well.

Depressed dad

Nelson’s father, Walter, is depressed and thinks his days are numbered (well, he will die in a few years). One possible answer is to buy a small macaw to Walter, but it will eventually grow up and Nelson has to get rid of it by selling it to a gypsy. Back to square one.

Finally, after other false leads, Nelson organises a tea party for his dad, inviting all the Oversixties of the village. Nelson catches Joe Grundy nipping some chocolate fingers into his pockets. Whatever Nelson does, it all turns against him in the end, but let’s say he suggests to Joe that milking time is coming soon. Joe doesn’t get the hint and finally someone else notices the missing chocolate fingers. Nelson accuses Joe, but then Tom Ferret makes a crying confession that he has been eating chocolate fingers for the whole evening. Meanwhile, Joe has managed to sneak away and the common opinion turns against Nelson, for blaming an innocent man. Nelson tries to point out how suspicious it was that Joe Grundy left so suddenly. “It is the milking time”, all say in chorus.

Renewing the wine bar

Nelson does not have enough money for sending his satin sheets to French laundry. He can try to cut back the expenses by sacking Shane, his cook. Unfortunately, Shane is the only gay person in village, and BBC needs to fill its minority quota.

Eventually, Nelson decides to go into partnership with Pat and Tony, another line of the Archer family (seriously, Ambridge citizens should really consider extending their gene pool beyond Archers). They are going to open a whole-food restaurant “Wild Oats”. Problem is that local organic food provider (yet another Archer) cannot provide Nelson with the products he requires.

After trying to get organic food elsewhere and making for a few weeks multi-hour driving trips to another town, Nelson decides to stop. Instead, he listens to Shane’s advice and starts a gay discotheque Adonis, where Joan Collins lookalike competitions are held (male strippers are strictly forbidden by BBC). The discotheque is at first successful, but then it becomes hip in the gay community to look straight, and Adonis has to be shut down for too little audience.

Nelson also tries to redecorate his wine bar in a more Oriental style. He doesn’t have money to buy real Oriental, so he settles for fake Sari. He also wants some Oriental style statuettes, and he can try to dupe local art students to do them for him. Unfortunately, their teacher gets angry and threatens to release the local education committee on Nelson – and BBC gets complaints about Nelson cheating students.

Oversixties trip

Peggy Archer has too much things to do on Grey Gables hotel, so she cannot chaperone the Oversixties annual field trip. The Oversixties are terrified when they hear that a recent arrival to Ambridge, Mrs. Antrobus, known also as “The Dog Woman”, because of her kennels for Afghan hounds, has volunteered to lead the trip. Oversixties want Nelson to help them.

One possibility is to let Nelson ask Jennifer Aldridge, Peggy’s daughter, to take the lead. Nelson samples some of Jennifer’s yoghurt, when meeting her, and the next night he wakes with stomach pains. Nelson tries to extort Jennifer with this information, since she has been trying to sell her yoghurt into a health shop. Unfortunately, Jennifer knows some dirt of Nelson. “History has never seen a Gabriel retreat from battle so hastily!”

Nelson has then no other choice but to lead the tour himself. He has to choose the destination – either Weston-super-Mare where the Oversixties have traditionally traveled, or the more sophisticated Longleat. If Nelson chooses Longleat, Mrs. Anthrobus gets excited and starts calling to Marquess of Bath, who resides in Longleat. Marquess isn’t happy with Mrs. Anthrobus’s antics, and the Oversixties are banned from entering Longleat.

Weston-super-Mare it is then. Nelson still has to hire some entertainer for the long bus trip. The only real alternative is Mick ’n Dick, Borchester’s answer to Chas ‘n Dave – they do not have “any musical talent, but one rousing chorus of Knees Up, Mother Brown is much like any other”. After some amusing incidents, Mick ‘n Dick start to sing Eskimo Nell. The Oversixties men are delighted and join in, while the women and Nelson are too flabbergasted to say a thing. BBC isn’t and says a lot, since Morality Brigade are horrified (then again, some members of audience request lyrics for the song).

Antique shops

Nelson’s antique business is not doing well and he has to step up his business. One thing he can do is to read a DYI guide and start an antique restoration business. This evidently backfires sooner or later, and the local police officers pay a visit of a suspected fraud. Nelson might also start to knock on people’s door, offering cash for what might seem like junk to them, but what really are priceless antiques. Unfortunately, BBC vetoes this plan since older listeners are already afraid of con-merchants.

Eventually Nelson starts a house clearance service. He hires Stewart, one of the Horrobins – a family of local ruffians – to do the heavy work. Due to an extremely bad luck, during the first gig Nelson’s competition, Chippendale Charlie, sneaks in, locks Nelson and Stewart inside a closet and steals all the furniture. Stewart breaks the door and Nelson has to pay the damage so that he has no money to pay for Stewart. Next night, Horrobin clan pays a visit and demands the paycheck of Stewart. Nelson placates them with some whisky.

Final Rating Puzzles and Solvability

The Archers shares a central failing with Secret of Adrian Mole, namely, that the player often has no reasonable way to know what the choices made imply. Didn’t you know that a character going to Channel Islands meant writing that character out of the series? Too bad, you are dead already. And when the solution can be solved beforehand, it is usually too easy.

The case looks a bit different, when we do not focus on individual choices, but on a series of them. Adrian Mole tracked only a single number throughout the game (your score), and that number had nothing to do with your ability to move forward in the game. The Archers, on the other hand, tracks several attributes (at least realism, the opinion of BBC and the number of viewers). Furthermore, these attributes are essential for moving forward, since after each part their status is evaluated. Thus, as a whole The Archers feels more of a challenge than Adrian Mole.

Score: 2.

Interface and Inventory

I complained that Adrian Mole had too simple an interface, since the player could do nothing beyond choosing a number between 1 and 3. The Archers seemingly uses the very same interface, but the feel is quite different. Partial reason could be the complexity behind the surface that I mentioned with the previous score. Partly it is all about the context – while making decisions from three well-defined choices is something we rarely do in everyday life, I can imagine a showrunner having to choose from few possibilities to continue a plot (i.e. scripts).

Score: 2.

Story and Setting

The town of Ambridge and its occupants, as described by the radio series, form a rich background for the game. What is more, this background has an actual effect on the events of the game, which now feel like an organic growth of the history of the radio series instead of mere tacked-on stories. In addition, there’s the interesting metaelement of the player being the showrunner striving to find balance between spectacle loving audience and conservative BBC authorities. The biggest failing storywise is that all the little stories form no grand thematic whole, but are mere daily stories in the life of Ambridge.

Score: 5.

Sounds and Graphics

Every plot line has its unique distinguishing picture. Some of them just show the place where the main action happens, others reveal more plot details. Just like with Adrian Mole, the graphics are a bit more memorable than they have usually been in Level 9 games.

Score: 4

Environment and Atmosphere

The Archers is essentially a soap opera producing simulator. The idea may seem daft, but it is surprisingly fun to tinker and try to find different plot lines and reactions from the audience. I can just imagine that a similar concept with some modern genre show would be great fun:

Tyrion Lannister stands upon the Wall and decides to relieve himself. What happens next?

1) Tyrion makes a quip about people on top of the world being able to throw their wastes on the lower classes. He then soliloquises about the unequal division of power and muses about the possibility of people governing someday themselves.

2) Suddenly a hand appears from the other side of the Wall. It’s a White Walker! Tyrion grabs a sword, cuts the hand and kicks the body down. He says to the corpse: “I am sorry we couldn’t arrange a warmer welcome.”

3) One drink too many tonight has deteriorated Tyrion’s sense of balance. He leans a bit too far and falls to an icy death. Nameless watchman says: “I thought he would make a bigger splash.”

Results:

1) Entertainment Weekly writes a detailed and approving review of the show: “Rarely is a sword and sorcery show so deep and thoughtful. We may be watching a new Wire.” You gain +10 % general viewers.

2) A Song of Ice and Fire Wiki section “How the show differs from the book” has grown. You lose -20 % G. R. R. Martin fans.

Reddit goes hot: “Best action scene EVER”. You gain +30 % preteen viewers.

New Yorker columnist writes about the empowerment of minority groups in modern fantasy. You gain +30 % viewers with university degree.

3) A Song of Ice and Fire Wiki sections “How the show differs from the book” and “Beloved characters killed off too soon” have grown. You lose -40 % G. R. R. Martin fans.

Teacher from Minnesota sends an angry tweet about school children imitating the death of Tyrion: “Kids dropping from roofs like apples!” Parents all over the country restrict their children’s screen time. You lose -50% viewers under twelve years.

Little People of America is offended by the exploitation of persons of short stature in modern media. You lose -40% progressive viewers.

4chan goes viral: “This ain’t free country if we can’t make fun of dwarves!” You gain + 60 % alt-right viewers. Don’t expect to visit your mother anytime soon.

Fox Corporation considers purchasing the rights for the next season of GoT. Kelsey Grammar rumored to get the role of Sir Davos.

What doesn’t work very well is the need to carefully min/max your audience reactions. Especially the fourth part started to feel stale, because I was forced to replay the same events over and over again, when trying to find a working combination of events. Either more variation in the possible storylines or less stringent criteria for a successful run would have been appreciated.

Score: 4.

Dialogue and Acting

I enjoyed my time reading this satire or parody of a soap opera. Some sites suggest that the writers of the show wrote parts of the text, and it is quite believable that some professionals were involved. The writers showed a good sense of humour and wit, especially in their descriptions of what the BBC executives and the audience liked about the show. Furthermore, all the four characters have a different and believable voice.

Score: 5.

(2 + 2 + 5 + 4 + 4 + 5)/.6 = 37. Most of you had significantly lower score guesses, but Will Moczarski nailed it almost perfectly and chose a one point too high a score. Congratulations!

Well, I wouldn’t have believed it when I started this game, but yes, this is one of the best Level 9 game so far. Of course, this is mostly due to the story and the writing being at least decent. Viewed solely as a game, The Archers is not much to look at, but as a piece of interactive fiction it is at least entertaining, if not that deep of an experience. In fact, the rating of The Archers might give us some indication how visual novels would fare with the PISSED ratings.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/missed-classic-the-archers-won-or-lost-with-final-rating/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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blackkudos · 8 years ago

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Quincy Jones

Quincy Delight Jones, Jr. (born March 14, 1933), also known as "Q", is an American record producer, actor, conductor, arranger, composer, musician, television producer, film producer, instrumentalist, magazine founder, entertainment company executive, and humanitarian. His career spans six decades in the entertainment industry and a record 79 Grammy Award nominations, and 28 Grammys, including a Grammy Legend Award in 1991. He is best known for the role of himself in Yakety Yak, Take it Back, Trash Talk, and Fantasia 2000.

Jones came to prominence in the 1950s as a jazz arranger and conductor, before moving on to work prolifically in pop music and film scores.

In 1968, Jones and his songwriting partner Bob Russell became the first African Americans to be nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Song, their "The Eyes of Love" for the Universal Pictures film Banning. That same year, Jones was the first African American to be nominated twice within the same year for an Academy Award for Best Original Score, as he was also nominated for his work on the film In Cold Blood (1967). In 1971, Jones was the first African American to be named as the musical director and conductor of the Academy Awards ceremony. In 1995, he was the first African American to receive the Academy's Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. He is tied with sound designer Willie D. Burton as the African American who has been nominated for the most Oscars; each has received seven nominations.

Jones was the producer, with Michael Jackson, of Jackson's albums Off the Wall (1979), Thriller (1982), and Bad (1987), as well as the producer and conductor of the 1985 charity song "We Are the World", which raised funds for victims of destitution in Ethiopia.

In 2013, Jones was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame as the winner, alongside Lou Adler, of the Ahmet Ertegun Award. Among his awards, Jones was named by Time Magazine as one of the most influential jazz musicians of the 20th century.

Early life

Quincy Jones was born in 1933, on the South Side of Chicago, to Sarah Frances (née Wells) (1903-1999) and Quincy Delight Jones, Sr (1895-1971). His father was a semi-professional baseball player and carpenter from Kentucky; his paternal grandmother was an ex-slave in Louisville. They had gone to Chicago as part of the Great Migration out of the South. Sarah was a bank officer and apartment complex manager. Jones later discovered that his paternal grandfather Caesar Jones was the son of a white American man of Welsh descent. Quincy had a younger brother, Lloyd, later an engineer for the Seattle station, KOMO-TV; Lloyd died in 1998. Quincy was introduced to music by his mother, who always sang religious songs; and by his next-door neighbor, Lucy Jackson. When Jones was five or six, Jackson played stride piano next door, and he would always listen through the walls. Lucy Jackson recalled that after he heard her that one day, she could not get him off her piano if she tried.

When the boys were young, their mother suffered from a schizophrenic breakdown and was committed to a mental institution. His father obtained a divorce and remarried.

Jones's stepmother, Elvera, had three children of her own: Waymond, who became a friend of the young Quincy; Theresa; and Katherine. Elvera and Quincy Senior had three more children together through 1950, after they had moved to the Northwest: Jeanette; Margie; and Richard, now a judge in Seattle, making a total of eight in the family.

In 1943, when Jones was ten, his family moved to Bremerton, Washington, where his father got a wartime job at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard. After the war, the Jones family moved to Seattle, the major regional city, where Jones attended Garfield High School near his home. He had discovered music when he was 12 and became more deeply involved in high school, developing his skills as a trumpeter and arranger. Classmates included Charles Taylor, who played saxophone and whose mother, Evelyn Bundy, had been one of Seattle's first society jazz-band leaders. The youths began playing with a band. At the age of 14, they were playing with a National Reserve band. Jones has said he got much more experience with music growing up in a smaller city; otherwise, he would have faced too much competition.

At the age of 14, Jones introduced himself to a 16-year-old musician from Florida, Ray Charles, after watching him play at the Black Elks Club. Jones cites Ray Charles as an early inspiration for his own music career. He noted that Charles overcame a disability (blindness) to achieve his musical goals. He has credited his father's sturdy work ethic with giving him the means to proceed, and his loving strength with holding the family together. Jones has said his father had a saying: "Once a task is just begun, never leave until it's done. Be the labor great or small, do it well or not at all."

In 1951, Jones won a scholarship to Seattle University, where a young Clint Eastwood – also a music major there – watched him play in the college band. After only one semester, Jones transferred to what is now the Berklee College of Music in Boston on another scholarship (as of 2016, Jones's application for admission is preserved on display at Berklee). While studying at Berklee, he played at Izzy Ort's Bar & Grille with Bunny Campbell and Preston Sandiford, whom he later cited as important musical influences. He left his studies after he received an offer to tour as a trumpeter with the bandleader Lionel Hampton and embarked on his professional career. While Jones was on the road with Hampton, he displayed a gift for arranging songs. Jones relocated to New York City, where he received a number of freelance commissions arranging songs for artists including Sarah Vaughan, Dinah Washington, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Gene Krupa, and Ray Charles, by then a close friend.

Musical career

At the age of 19, Jones traveled with Lionel Hampton to Europe and said it turned him upside down, altering his view of racism in the US.

It gave you some sense of perspective of past, present and future. It took the myopic conflict between just black and white in the United States and put it on another level because you saw the turmoil between the Armenians and the Turks, and the Cypriots and the Greeks, and the Swedes and the Danes, and the Koreans and the Japanese. Everybody had these hassles, and you saw it was a basic part of human nature, these conflicts. It opened my soul, it opened my mind.

In 1956, Jones toured again as a trumpeter and musical director of the Dizzy Gillespie Band on a tour of the Middle East and South America sponsored by the United States Information Agency. Upon his return, Jones signed with ABC-Paramount Records and started his recording career as the leader of his own band. In 1957, Quincy settled in Paris, where he studied composition and theory with Nadia Boulanger and composer Olivier Messiaen. He also performed at the Paris Olympia. Jones became music director at Barclay Disques, a leading French record company and the licensee for Mercury Records in France.

During the 1950s, Jones successfully toured throughout Europe with a number of jazz orchestras. As musical director of Harold Arlen's jazz musical Free and Easy, Quincy Jones took to the road again. A European tour closed in Paris in February 1960. With musicians from the Arlen show, Jones formed his own big band, called The Jones Boys, with eighteen artists. The band included double bass player Eddie Jones and fellow trumpeter Reunald Jones, and organized a tour of North America and Europe. Though the European and American concerts met enthusiastic audiences and sparkling reviews, concert earnings could not support a band of this size. Poor budget planning resulted in an economic disaster; the band dissolved and the fallout left Jones in a financial crisis. Quoted in Musician magazine, Jones said about the ordeal,

We had the best jazz band on the planet, and yet we were literally starving. That's when I discovered that there was music, and there was the music business. If I were to survive, I would have to learn the difference between the two.

Irving Green, head of Mercury Records, helped Jones with a personal loan and a new job as the musical director of the company's New York division. There he worked with Doug Moody, who founded Mystic Records.

1960s breakthrough and rise to prominence

In 1964, Jones was promoted to vice-president of Mercury Records, becoming the first African American to hold this executive position. In that same year, he turned his attention to film scores, another musical arena long closed to African Americans. At the invitation of director Sidney Lumet, he composed the music for The Pawnbroker (1964). It was the first of his 33 major motion picture scores.

Following the success of The Pawnbroker, Jones left Mercury Records and moved to Los Angeles. After composing the film scores for Mirage and The Slender Thread in 1965, he was in constant demand as a composer. His film credits over the next seven years included Walk, Don't Run, The Deadly Affair, In Cold Blood, In the Heat of the Night, Mackenna's Gold, The Italian Job, Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice, Cactus Flower, The Out-of-Towners, They Call Me Mister Tibbs!, The Anderson Tapes, $ and The Getaway. In addition, he composed "The Streetbeater," which became familiar as the theme music for the television sitcom Sanford and Son, starring close friend Redd Foxx; he also composed the themes for other TV shows, including Ironside, Banacek, The Bill Cosby Show, the opening episode of Roots, and the Goodson & Todman game show Now You See It.

In the 1960s, Jones worked as an arranger for some of the most important artists of the era, including Billy Eckstine, Sarah Vaughan, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Nana Mouskouri, Shirley Horn, Peggy Lee, and Dinah Washington. Jones's solo recordings also gained acclaim, including Walking in Space, Gula Matari, Smackwater Jack, You've Got It Bad Girl, Body Heat, Mellow Madness, and I Heard That!!.

He is known for his 1962 tune "Soul Bossa Nova", which originated on the Big Band Bossa Nova album. "Soul Bossa Nova" was a theme used for the 1998 World Cup, the Canadian game show Definition, the Woody Allen film Take the Money and Run, and the Austin Powers film series. It was sampled by Canadian hip-hop group Dream Warriors for their song, "My Definition of a Boombastic Jazz Style".

Jones produced all four million-selling singles for Lesley Gore during the early and mid-sixties, including "It's My Party" (UK No. 8; US No. 1), "Judy's Turn to Cry" (US No. 5), "She's a Fool" (also a US No. 5) in 1963, and "You Don't Own Me" (US No. 2 for four weeks in 1964). He continued to produce for Gore until 1966, including the Greenwich/ Barry hit "Look of Love" (US No. 27) in 1965.

In 1975, Jones founded Qwest Productions, for which he arranged and produced hugely successful albums by Frank Sinatra and other major pop figures. In 1978, he produced the soundtrack for The Wiz, the musical adaptation of The Wizard of Oz, starring Michael Jackson and Diana Ross. In 1982, Jones produced Michael Jackson's all-time best-selling album Thriller.

Jones's 1981 album, The Dude, yielded multiple hit singles, including "Ai No Corrida" (a remake of a song by Chaz Jankel), "Just Once," and "One Hundred Ways", the latter two featuring James Ingram on lead vocals and marking Ingram's first hits.

In 1985, Jones wrote the score for the Steven Spielberg film adaptation of the Pulitzer-prize winning epistolary novel, The Color Purple, by Alice Walker. He and Thomas Newman (from Bridge of Spies) are the only composers besides John Williams to have scored a Spielberg theatrical film. (Spielberg directed a segment of Twilight Zone: The Movie, which was scored by Jerry Goldsmith). After the 1985 American Music Awards ceremony, Jones used his influence to draw most of the major American recording artists of the day into a studio to record the song "We Are the World" to raise money for the victims of Ethiopia's famine. When people marveled at his ability to make the collaboration work, Jones explained that he'd taped a simple sign on the entrance: "Check Your Ego At The Door".

In 1988, Quincy Jones Productions joined forces with Warner Communications to create Quincy Jones Entertainment. He signed a 10-picture deal with Warner Brothers and signed a two-series deal with NBC Productions. The television show The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air was completed in 1990, but producers of In the House (from UPN) later rejected its early concept stages. Jones produced the highly successful Fresh Prince of Bel Air (discovering Will Smith), UPN's In the House, and FOX's Madtv – which ran for 14 seasons. In the early 1990s, Jones started a huge, ongoing project called "The Evolution of Black Music." Not only did the Quincy Jones Entertainment Company produce The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, but it also started a weekly talk show with his friend, Reverend Jesse Jackson, as the host.

Starting in the late 1970s, Jones tried to convince Miles Davis to revive the music he had recorded on several classic albums of the 1960s, which had been arranged by Gil Evans. Davis had always refused, citing a desire not to revisit the past. In 1991, Davis, then suffering from pneumonia, relented and agreed to perform the music at a concert at the Montreux Jazz Festival. The resulting album from the recording, Miles & Quincy Live at Montreux, was Davis' last released album (he died several months afterward). It is considered an artistic triumph.

In 1993, Jones collaborated with David Salzman to produce the concert extravaganza, An American Reunion, a celebration of Bill Clinton's inauguration as president of the United States. The same year, Jones joined forces with Salzman and renamed his company as Quincy Jones/David Salzman Entertainment (QDE). QDE is a diverse company that produces media technology, motion pictures, television programs (In the House, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and MADtv), and magazines (VIBE and Spin).

In 2001, Jones published his autobiography, Q: The Autobiography of Quincy Jones. On July 31, 2007, he partnered with Wizzard Media to launch the Quincy Jones Video Podcast. In each episode, Jones shares his knowledge and experience in the music industry. The first episode features him in the studio, producing "I Knew I Loved you" for Celine Dion. This is featured on the Ennio Morricone tribute album, We All Love Ennio Morricone. Jones is also noted for helping produce Anita Hall's CD, Send Love, which was released in 2009.

Work with Michael Jackson

While working on the film The Wiz, Michael Jackson asked Jones to recommend some producers for his upcoming solo record. Jones offered some names, but eventually offered to produce the record. Jackson accepted and the resulting record, Off The Wall, ultimately sold about 20 million copies. This made Jones the most powerful record producer in the industry at that time. Jones's and Jackson's next collaboration, Thriller, has sold a reputed 110 million copies and has become the highest-selling album of all time. Jones also worked on Jackson's album Bad, which has sold 45 million copies. Bad was the last time the pair worked together in the studio. Audio interviews with Jones are featured on the 2001 special editions of Off The Wall, Thriller, and Bad.

In a 2002 interview, when asked if he would work with Jones again, Jackson suggested he might. But, in 2007, when Jones was asked by NME, he said: "Man, please! We already did that. I have talked to him about working with him again but I've got too much to do. I've got 900 products, I'm 74 years old."

Following Jackson's death on June 25, 2009, Jones said:

In October 2013, it was reported by the BBC and Hollywood Reporter that Jones is suing the estate of Michael Jackson for 10 million dollars. Jones says that MJJ Productions, a song company managed by the singer's estate and Sony Music Entertainment, improperly re-edited songs to deprive him of royalties and production fees; further, they broke an agreement giving him the right to remix master recordings for albums released after Jackson's death in 2009. The songs Quincy produced for Jackson were used in the film, This Is It. Jones is filing lawsuits against the works of Michael Jackson Cirque du Soleil productions, and the 25th anniversary edition of the Bad album. Quincy believes he should have received a producer credit in the film.

Work with Frank Sinatra

Q first worked with Frank Sinatra in 1958 when invited by Princess Grace to arrange a benefit concert at the Monaco Sporting Club. Six years later, Sinatra hired him to arrange and conduct Sinatra's second album with Count Basie, It Might as Well Be Swing (1964). Jones conducted and arranged the singer's live album with the Basie Band, Sinatra at the Sands (1966). Jones was also the arranger/conductor when Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr., Dean Martin, and Johnny Carson performed with the Basie orchestra in June 1965 in St. Louis, Missouri, in a benefit for Dismas House. The fund-raiser was broadcast to movie theaters around the country and eventually released on DVD. Later that year, Jones was the arranger/conductor when Sinatra and Basie appeared on The Hollywood Palace TV show on October 16, 1965. Nineteen years later, Sinatra and Jones teamed up for 1984's L.A. Is My Lady. Quincy was quoted saying,

"Frank Sinatra took me to a whole new planet. I worked with him until he passed away in '98. He left me his ring. I never take it off. Now, when I go to Sicily, I don't need a passport. I just flash my ring."

Brazilian culture

A great admirer of Brazilian culture, Jones is planning a film on Brazil's "Carnival," describing it as "one of the most spectacular spiritual events on the planet." The Brazilians Simone, whom he cites as "one of the world's greatest singers", Ivan Lins, Milton Nascimento, percussionist Paulinho Da Costa, "one of the best in the business", have become close friends and partners in his recent works.

Media appearances

Jones had a brief appearance in the 1990 video for The Time song "Jerk Out". Jones was a guest actor on an episode of The Boondocks. He appeared with Ray Charles in the music video of their song "One Mint Julep" and also with Ray Charles and Chaka Khan in the music video of their song "I'll Be Good to You".

Quincy Jones hosted an episode of the long-running NBC sketch comedy show Saturday Night Live on February 10, 1990 (during SNL's 15th season). The episode was notable for having 10 musical guests (the most any SNL episode has had in its 40 plus years on the air): Tevin Campbell, Andrae Crouch, Sandra Crouch, rappers Kool Moe Dee and Big Daddy Kane, Melle Mel, Quincy D III, Siedah Garrett, Al Jarreau, and Take 6, and for a performance of Dizzy Gillespie's "Manteca" by The SNL Band (conducted by Quincy Jones). Jones impersonated Marion Barry, former mayor of Washington, DC, in the then-recurring sketch, The Bob Waltman Special. Quincy Jones later produced his own sketch comedy show, FOX's MADtv. This competed with SNL from 1995 to 2009.

Jones appeared in the Walt Disney Pictures film, Fantasia 2000, introducing the set piece of George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. Two years later he made a cameo appearance as himself in the film Austin Powers in Goldmember.

On February 10, 2008, Jones joined Usher in presenting the Grammy Award for Album of the Year to Herbie Hancock.

On January 6, 2009, Quincy Jones appeared on NBC's Last Call with Carson Daly to discuss various aspects of his prolific career. Daly informally floated the idea that Jones should become the first minister of culture for the United States, pending the inauguration of Barack Obama as President. Daly noted that only the US and Germany, among leading world countries, did not have a cabinet-level position for this role. Commentators on NPR and in the Chronicle of Higher Education have also discussed the topic of a minister of culture.

In February 2014, Jones appeared in "Keep on Keepin' On," a documentary about his friend Clark Terry. In the film, Terry introduces Jones to his protege, Justin Kauflin, who Jones then signs into his band and label. In July 2014, Jones was starring in a documentary film, The Distortion of Sound.

In September 2015, Jones was a guest on Dr. Dre's The Pharmacy on Beats 1 Radio.

On February 28, 2016 he and Pharell Williams presented Ennio Morricone with the Oscar for best filmscore and in August 2016, he and his music were featured at the BBC Proms at the Royal Albert Hall.

Social activism

Jones's social activism began in the 1960s with his support of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Jones is one of the founders of the Institute for Black American Music (IBAM), whose events aim to raise enough funds for the creation of a national library of African-American art and music. Jones is also one of the founders of the Black Arts Festival in his hometown of Chicago. In the 1970s Jones formed The Quincy Jones Workshops. Meeting at the Los Angeles Landmark Variety Arts Center, the workshops educated and honed the skills of inner city youth in musicianship, acting and songwriting. Among its alumni were Alton McClain who had a hit song with Alton McClain and Destiny, and Mark Wilkins, who co-wrote the hit song "Havin' A Love Attack" with Mandrill, and went on to become the National Promotion Director for Punk / Thrash record label Mystic Records.

For many years, Jones has worked closely with Bono of U2 on a number of philanthropic endeavors. He is the founder of the Quincy Jones Listen Up Foundation. A nonprofit organization that built more than 100 homes in South Africa which aims to connect youths with technology, education, culture and music. One of the organization's programs is an intercultural exchange between underprivileged youths from Los Angeles and South Africa.

In 2004, Jones helped launch the We Are the Future (WAF) project, which gives children in poor and conflict-ridden areas a chance to live their childhoods and develop a sense of hope. The program is the result of a strategic partnership between the Global Forum, the Quincy Jones Listen Up Foundation, and Hani Masri, with the support of the World Bank, UN agencies and major companies. The project was launched with a concert in Rome, Italy, in front of an audience of half a million people.

Jones supports a number of other charities including the NAACP, GLAAD, Peace Games, AmfAR and The Maybach Foundation. Jones serves on the Advisory Board of HealthCorps. On July 26, 2007, he announced his endorsement of Hillary Clinton for president. But with the election of Barack Obama, Quincy Jones said that his next conversation "with President Obama [will be] to beg for a secretary of arts," This prompted the circulation of a petition on the Internet asking Obama to create such a Cabinet-level position in his administration.

In 2001, Jones became an honorary member of the board of directors of The Jazz Foundation of America. He has worked with The Jazz Foundation of America to save the homes and the lives of America's elderly jazz and blues musicians, including those who survived Hurricane Katrina.

Jones and his friend John Sie, founder of Liberty Starz, worked together to create the Global Down Syndrome Foundation. They were inspired by Sie's granddaughter, Sophia, who has Down syndrome.

Personal life

With the help of the author Alex Haley in 1972 and Mormon researchers in Salt Lake City, Jones discovered that his mother's ancestors included James Lanier, a relative of Sidney Lanier, the poet. Jones said in an interview, "He had a baby with my great-grandmother [a slave], and my grandmother was born there [on a plantation in Kentucky]. We traced this all the way back to the Laniers, same family as Tennessee Williams." Learning that the Lanier immigrant ancestors were French Huguenot refugees, who had court musicians among their ancestors, Jones attributed some of his musicianship to them. In a 2009 BBC interview, Jones said Haley also helped him learn that his father was of part Welsh ancestry.

In 1974, he suffered a life-threatening brain aneurysm, so he decided to cut back on his schedule to spend time with his friends and family. Since his family and friends believed that his life was coming to an end, they started to plan a memorial service for him. He attended his own service with his neurologist by his side in case the excitement overwhelmed him. Some of the entertainers at his service were Richard Pryor, Marvin Gaye, Sarah Vaughan and Sidney Poitier.

Jones has been married three times and has had other relationships; he has a total of seven children:

Jeri Caldwell (1957 to 1966); they had a daughter, Jolie Jones (now married and using the surname Levine).

Ulla Andersson, Swedish actress, (1967 to 1974); they had two children, Martina and Quincy Jones III;

Peggy Lipton, actress, (1974 to 1990); they had two daughters, Kidada and Rashida Jones, both born in the United States, who have become actresses.

Jones had a brief affair with Carol Reynolds, and they had a daughter, Rachel Jones.

Jones dated and lived with the actress, Nastassja Kinski, from 1991 until 1995. They had a daughter, Kenya Julia Miambi Sarah Jones, born in 1993.

In 1994 he was criticized by rapper Tupac Shakur for having relationships with white women, prompting Jones's daughter Rashida to pen a scathing open letter in response published in The Source. In an unlikely twist of fate, Rashida's sister Kidada developed a romantic relationship with Shakur, and had been living with the rapper for four months at the time of his death.

For the 2006 PBS television program, African American Lives, Jones had his DNA tested and genealogists researched his family history again. His DNA admixture revealed he is predominately African with 34% European in ancestry, found on both sides of his family. Research showed that he has Welsh, English, French and Italian ancestry, with European ancestry in his direct patrilineal line (Y DNA). Through his direct matrilineal line (mt DNA), he is of West African/Central African ancestry of Tikar descent, a people centered in present-day Cameroon. Other matrilineal ancestry includes European, such as Lanier male ancestors who fought for the Confederacy, making him eligible for Sons of Confederate Veterans. Among his ancestors is Betty Washington Lewis, the sister of president George Washington. Jones is also a direct descendant of Edward I of England; Edward's ancestors included Rurik, Polish, Swiss, and French nobility.

Jones has never learned to drive, citing an accident in which he was a passenger (at age 14) as the reason.

Honors and awards

In addition to receiving recognition specifically for his music and arrangements, Jones has been recognized for his overall contributions to music and humanitarian goals. He has received numerous honorary doctorates and been invited to speak at college and university commencement ceremonies.

Garfield High School in Seattle named a performing arts center after him.

Quincy Jones Elementary School located in South Central Los Angeles is named after him.

He received the Humanitarian Award at the BET Awards in 2008.

He received the John F. Kennedy Center Honors in 2001.

He received the Los Angeles Press Club Visionary Award in 2014.

He received an honorary doctorate from the Royal Academy of Music, London, in 2015.

Film scores

Filmography

Yakety Yak, Take it Back (1991) ... Himself

Trash Talk (1992) ... Himself

Fantasia 2000 (1999) ... Himself (segment "Rhapsody in Blue")

Wikipedia

#Quincy Jones #03-14

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outwardjourneywithin · 8 years ago

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Throwback - The Guise of Nightcrawlers

December 2014. The below is my misadventures from a night out.

Make sure to read these quotes in a Colombian accent.

"Take out your hair! How long is your hair? It's so loooong!" "You're so tan, I'm not normally this tan I'm very pale, I'm probably as pale as your belly."

Now picture yourself, by yourself, in a Holden Barina. Getting driven halfway home by this Colombian man. Whom you thought was your Colombian friend only a few minutes earlier.

"None of my roommates are home too-night." "You should see the view from my apartment, you can see the whole skyline." "You can drink whatever you want in my apartment, bacardi, whiskey, rum, we can do shots."

That was the predicament I found myself in last night. In a car, with a wildly gay man, driving me to his apartment. Me, in the seat next to him, eyes forward and ass clenched.

The irony is that I was trying to fuck his friend. A girl. Named Marcella, she was this beautiful exotic Colombian girl with brown curls, skinny waist, lustily curvey. With these dark eyes that saw through you as if you were standing in front of her naked.

Beautiful girl was really keen on her. So I became friends with her best friend, this Jorge character. The whole night I was wondering, "Doesn't this guy think I'm a cunt? Surely he wants to fuck Marcella and here I am cramping his style. I'd hate me if I were him."

Turns out he didn't hate me. He wanted to fuck me.

So there I was. Friends with Jorge who completely slipped past my gaydar I had not the slightest inkling that he might be gay. Must have been the accent.

Despite my predicament suggesting that I am completely inept at directing social situations my way (i.e instead of having sex with Marcella, I was now my way to having gay sex, pressed up against a high rise window drinking in the Melbourne Skyline), I was actually doing pretty well with Marcella. She was totally vibing on me It was great.

She was eyeing me when I was bartending at the Design Exhibition earlier. There was this tension between us every time we were near each other, it was great. Fast forward to the afterparty of the exhibition, I was talking to her.

It was going so well. At this point I thought Jorge was driving Marcella home, they're best friends right? So while talking to Marcella, Jorge offers to give me a lift. His home was halfway to my home. In my head I was thinking, ‘Fuck yeah. Alone time with Marcella in the back seat. Easy move. I’m into this idea. I’m getting in this car, and later I’ll get inside Marcella. Maybe even at Jorge’s house. Who knows. The world is my oyster and at the moment the world is treating me well. This is going to be great. I'm excited.’

Shortly after making this decision, the only person I knew at the after party - and my lift home - tells me he’s leaving, and asks if I’m coming with him. I’m all like "yeah man go home I've got it figured out."

I certainly did not have it figured out. As was blatantly revealed to me two minutes after my friend left.

Almost like it was a set play (maybe 'trap' is a more apt description), my new Colombian friends start talking about Marcella’s husband, what he’s up to and where he is right now.

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. I’m thinking ‘but, but, we were going to have sex??’

Completely oblivious to my internal turmoil, Marcella wanders off moments later, and I'm left with just Jorge.

This development was a definite setback. But I am a 23 year old drunk, horny man. Also deluded. I still thought she wanted me. So i was still working to make that sex with the sexy Colombian happen.

In sober hindsight she was just a beautiful girl talking to me, and I was just this stupid cunt that thought that meant she wanted to sleep with me. Must be hard being a beautiful girl sometimes, can't form any real relationships with the opposite sex because all they're thinking is "Goddamn I want to fuck her."

I continued talking to Jorge, just being my nice self, making friends, laughing, talking about shit that meant nothing. Little did I know, that all the while he was thinking "Goddam I want to fuck him."

Anyway, at this point I feel a bit stranded. It’s nice talking to Jorge but I am just being nice. I don’t really want to talk to him, I just want to talk to Marcella and occasionally flick my eyes down to her exposed cleavage (a total action of my sub-conscience. I can’t help it. I like that I can’t help it, but still I can’t help it).

So I’m a bit bored with how how things are going since I am definitely not getting sneaky looks at any breasts. Almost like Jorge could sense my indifference, he suddenly says, "Lets vamous."

I'm thinking fucking sweet, time to ruin a marriage in the back seat of your car, or at least give it a very valiant attempt.

He says bye to a few people and we make our way out. We’re outside the bar, waiting for Marcella. Great, she’ll be down in a minute. Yesyesyesyesfuckingyeeesssssss.

Suddenly, Jorge starts walking. I do a bit of a double take and then start following him. I walk a little bit further, look back at the bar, which is shrinking away from us suddenly oh so fast, and ask, “Where’s Marcella?”

Jorge says, “She’s still drinking. Her husband will pick her up later in the night. Come on my car is this way.”

She's not coming. She's not fucking coming. I'm getting in this guy's car - stranger’s car - drunk, and he is going to take me further and further from the girl I want to fuck, who is also drunk.

Fuckin Fuck.

But I think, ‘oh well gotta go with it.’ It would be rude to just be like, ‘Nah bro if she's back there I'm heading back, have a nice trip home.’

Also I would just be stranded again. So I start walking to this guy's car, still completely oblivious to what he wants to do with me and my butthole.

It was on the walk over to his car that I started to get suspicious. He started talking about his experience in the male bathroom only moments before.

"The guy next to me was a donk-eee, he was hung like - " makes motion of an elephant trunk sprouting between his legs, then waves it around a little bit and slaps me on my leg.

Oh Fuck.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Shit.

Then like your life flashing before your eyes at a near death experience, all the other shit he said came flooding back to me. Like I was sherlock holmes at the climax of the movie, coalescing all these whispers of clues into one spectacular sensory overload masterpiece. Finally revealing who the killer was and how he used a left shoe and cucumber to commit murder.

Except instead of all these clues coalescing into who did the murder, they were revealing just how gay this guy was. Also, instead of committing murder with a cucumber, this guy wanted to fuck me with it.

Also, to be honest, the ”whispers” of clues, weren’t that subtle. Nor was the masterpiece coming together that elaborate.

The puzzle I solved when this guy slapped me on the leg with arm ‘donkey dick’, was more reminiscent of a kids toy. The one with those different shaped blocks that have to put through their respective shaped holes so that they fall into the box. That was about the sophistication of the mystery I solved. He wanted to shove his block in my hole.

Looking back, his gayness was so obvious, but at the time I had no idea.

Things like, "Make sure to save my name as Jorge Long Tongue Big Dick," didn't have the innocence that it did 2 hours earlier. Neither did touching each others pecs, or him showing me how to move my hips to dance, or turkey slapping each other just for fun.

Alright turkey slapping never took place. If it did I would be slapping my turkey straight into Marcella.

The thing that lost it's innocence the most was accepting a lift from Jorge. I am getting a lift from a guy that wants to fuck my asshole. Fucking fuck.

Also, I'm a people pleaser. I can't just say, "sorry man I'm uncomfortable with this whole thing now, I'm going to call someone to take me home." I can't just say that and hurt this poor sexual predator's feelings. That's devastating! he would be really upset about that for at least a few hours. No the only rational thing to do, is just get in this guy's car, and hope that he doesn't fuck you.

So we get in his car, and the games began.

I lied about living with roommates (was so not telling this guy that I live alone) started talking about the girl at work I'm sleeping with. Did not show the cunt my belly or untie my hair when he giggled and try make it happen. Just let all his comments about having a drink at his apartment hang dead in the air. Just fucking left them there. Let the awkward but psycopathic calculation of his whole entrapment hang dead in the air, and then when we finally get to his apartment and he tries to quickly race into the underground car park before I have a chance to get out, forcing further close encounters with him in the elevator and likely his apartment, I just got the fuck out. Waved bye, put my smile back on - because hey I was pretty fucking happy, my asshole was still reserved for the single pure action of taking shits - and walked over to the main road, find myself a taxi to get home.

And then of course that's a whole other weird fucking experience too. The details are a bit boring but the overall experience was fucking funny. Essentially my cab driver was Eddie Murphy when he was in Coming To America, not in humour just in life status. He was the son of millionaires. But I didn't know that, because he was fucking cabbie.

So when I said to him, "So why did you move to Australia man was it for a better life?"

He cracked it at me, and in hindsight he had a point, who am I to assume that this life is better than what's in India? People can change countries just for a change. They might have a good life in their home country, but still, they just want to see what else is out there.

However, he stereotyped me as another dumb racist white Australian male, which was also unfair.

Also, logically my question did make sense, I am not leaving Australia for India, because my life is fucking good here. So logically for someone to leave India for Australia, it was because they think life will be fucking good here.

When I tried to explain this, he interpreted it wrong. He thought I had a God Complex of "STRAYA" and "Love it or get the fuck out."

Anyway, he tells me that he left India because he was sick of being a rich kid, wanted to experience life on another level, so he travelled. He did mention something about University and maybe having a degree but he was a cabbie right, so I thought he didn't.

Just like when people see me bartending. They assume that I don't have a degree either, just like 90% of the other staff that work there. The stereotype even permeates the staff’s perception of each other, as they were surprised to hear that I did have a degree.

Judgemental stereotyping can be hinderance sometimes hey.

Anyway, so this cabbie is a millionaire and it was actually quite interesting. He doesn't tell his parents that he has to drive at 1:30am on a Wednesday night to pay bills. Ten years he's been in Australia experiencing life on another level and loving it. But finally, his parents got sick of waiting for him to come back, because they're giving him a million dollars to invest in whatever - he told me not to ask in what, and ever the people pleaser I didn't - and he's leaving the cab business in a month and a half.

He was easily the most interesting cab driver I had. Cold with logic but still very passionate.

To top it all off he was the only cab driver ever to offer me change. Even when the change is a few dollars a lot of cabbies make no motion to give it to you unless you ask for it. This guys whipped out his proper little change dispenser - not a piece of shit little plastic box with a mess of poo change in it - and tried to give me my 20 cents change. I waved it off, which in hindsight is fucking stupid. He just told me he's getting a million dollars next month, and I'm all like "no no no bro, keep the 20 cents, that's fine don't worry about it."

I smiled, slammed the door and waved goodbye.

Only moments ago, I was out, drunk, alone, on the other side of the city. Now, I am standing in front of my home, with my amazing beautiful fucking bed inside waiting for me. This incredible sense of achievement and relief washed over me, as If I had accomplished something really worthwhile.

It obviously wasn’t that much accomplishment. Really all I did was: get drunk, wave my only friend off when he offered me a lift home, be too drunk to realise I was getting blatantly hit on by a gay man, evade gay sex from this man, get yelled at by an angry cab driver, make friends with that cab driver, and finally stand in the street at the front of my apartment building.

What a life I lead.

I keycard my way into the building and head inside for a well deserved night’s rest, with my ass still in tact.

#anecdote #guise #nightcrawler #funny #predicament #misadventure

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