#Soul-Jazz

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

The Magician • Sistas • Chardonnay • Chardonnay Etude • Lamp • Light Dep • Mary New Religion (Medieval Mix) • The Downside Hotel • The Rattler • For Hanna • Little Angel • Easy • Barbara • Believe in Love by B. DeVeaux • Crown • Runaway Caroline • Dontcha Like It • Mary New Religion II [Metropolis Mix] • O Mother

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube

[burlveneer-music]

Angelo Outlaw - Axis Of Time - from Philadelphia, a spectacular soul-jazz album with tuned percussion in the foreground

Axis of Time is the stunning debut album from Philadelphia mallet percussionist and poet Angelo Outlaw. Featuring Eraserhood Sound’s signature synth & soul production, Axis of Time is a dazzling blend of jazz, rare groove, funk, soul and r&b. According to Outlaw, the album is meant to transport the listener to a dream-like state, where space and time slowly fade away and reality is merely a distant memory. Each song sets a unique scene, as the pace of the music swells and sways…from the euphoric highs of lead single “Free My Mind”and uninhibited groove of “Speed of Light” to the trance-like meditation of “Dreams” and mournful melodies of “Invisible Clock,” Angelo and the Eraserhood Sound house band truly go to the cosmos and back. The record is an extraordinary debut from Outlaw, a young gay Black man who hopes to serve as an inspiration to others who might be perceived as different or other. His work transcends race, creed, religion, and politics, and has the power to speak to the universality of time, space, and human connection. Written by Angelo Outlaw, Vincent John, Maxwell Perla Written by Angelo Outlaw, Vincent John, Maxwell Perla, Dan Scott (Tracks 7,8) Angelo Outlaw - Vibraphone, Marimba, Chimes, Spoken Word Vincent John - Bass, Guitar, Electric Piano, Synthesizer, Vocals Maxwell Perla - Drums, Percussion, Conga, Vocals Turquoise Cobb - Vocals (Tracks 1,8) Ron Aikens - Vocals (Track 1) Ky - Vocals (Track 5) Widow Winslow - Vocals (Track 5) Dan Scott Forreal - Guitar (Track 7) Christine Elise - Harp (Tracks 1,4,6,11) Ron Kerber - Flute (Tracks 2,3,6) Michael Buckley - Flute (Track 8)

[soundgrammar]

Listen/purchase: Cold As Weiss by Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio

[mywifeleftme]

151: Black Renaissance // Body, Mind & Spirit

Body, Mind & Spirit Black Renaissance 1977, Baystate (Bandcamp)

At one time a laughably rare record (see: skullduggery surrounding master tapes being sent by the band to Japan, simultaneously bootlegged and lost by the label) with the one original 1977 pressing currently on Discogs going for a cool $2,800 USD, Black Renaissance’s Body, Mind & Spirit has thankfully been reissued a number of times since it was rediscovered around 2002 by SoCal label Luv N' Haight. Black Renaissance was the solo project of pianist Harry Whitaker, known for his work with Roy Ayers’ Ubiquity and Roberta Flack, but the term “solo project” seems inadequate to describe the work of 18 musicians: legend Woody Shaw on trumpet; former Jazz Messenger David Schnitter and Azar Lawrence (an alumnus of McCoy Tyner and Miles Davis’s early ‘70s bands) on sax; bassist Buster Williams (Herbie Hancock Sextet); James Mtume on percussion; a female choir, spoken word poets, and more. Though Whitaker is the primary composer and bandleader, he mostly plays the sideman, allowing Williams’ deep bass grooves to till the black soil while his three brass players simulate the birth cries of a new universe above.

Both side-long jams lock into grooves that could go on forever and nearly do, but side 2’s “Magic Ritual” is the more eventful number. It constantly builds, but not towards any frenzied crescendo—a better word might be that the composition thickens. Incantatory spoken word in the Last Poets-style gradually transitions from English back into an African tongue; drums and percussion work their way in from the margins until their insistent, ticking rhythms become a central concern; bassist Williams finally decides to wander off and take a solo with the looping cadence of an inflatable mascot drifting away in the wind. Like Sun Ra’s big band recordings, Black Renaissance has a cosmic sensibility, even as it consciously evokes the African roots of Black music (and therefore music itself). It’s a way of saying, “We have always been here, and always will be.” And also, of saying a few things that come through feel alone.

151/365

[saydesole]

Vinyl Records 🎶

Music is the most beautiful thing in the world 🫶🏽

[selektakoletiva]

Nicola Conte - Umoja (2023)

O renomado multi-artista italiano - arquivista, pesquisador, guitarrista, jazzista, além de DJ e produtor - o mestre Nicola Conte, lançou esse ano o seu mais novo álbum, "Umoja", pela gravadora londrina Far Out Recordings. O que podemos adiantar, é que de todas os mais de 6 álbuns em estúdio de Conte, esse sem dúvidas é o mais satisfatório.

Décimo segundo álbum, "Umoja" é uma ode a unidade planetária de grooves, frequências e bons sonidos ao redor do globo. Não falaremos do real significado, nem da sua origem ou morfologia gramatical do Swahili, mas do que e como ele reflete no disco. Ao longo do LP, tem-se uma experiência imersiva de várias texturas diferentes, com trocas culturais entre países de continentes distintos. Tudo dentro do universo jazz e seus vários arquétipos ao redor do mundo e no escorrer do tempo.

Ao longo de dez faixas, Umoja mergulha no diverso e vasto número de referências e conhecimento que Conte amontoou ao longo de sua carreira como compilador e arquivista. Por isso mesmo, é preciso ser dito um pouco aqui sobre Nicola, sua história na música e afinidade para com a nossa música latina/brasileira.

Há um fio da meada que faz com que Conte seja tão genuíno nesses vinte e três anos de produção registrada. Prest'enção, eu disse genuíno, não genial. E às vezes isso pode ser melhor, ou mais proveitoso, do que ser algo que demanda expectativas demais. Na Itália, sabidamente as oportunidades são outras que aqui. Primeiro mundo é outro patamar, logo tanto sua personalidade - sempre aficionado por novos grooves, musicista implacável - quanto a questão geográfica, o fizeram um grande compositor e produtor.

Nascido, criado e residindo até hoje em Bari - uma cidade portuária fora da rota turística - na costa Adriática, ao sul do país - agregando um clima quente e costeiro, com lindas paisagens praianas, ruas estreitas e com arquiteturas imponentes que desafiam séculos, além do baixo custo de vida, se comparado com outras cidades. Tudo isso o localiza em posição privilegiada para ignorar as tendências de Roma ou as modas passageiras da capital.

Essa paixão toda de Conte vem desde novo. O artista chamou a atenção pela primeira vez em Bari nos anos 1990 com seu Fez Collective, uma fusão informal de músicos de jazz e progressivo, DJs e ativistas culturais reunidos em prol do cenário alternativo da cidade, onde se apresentavam mensalmente e debatiam sobre a cena local. Nessa lida, iniciou então sua trajetória com o disco de acid-jazz "Jet Sounds" (2000), lançado pela Schema Records. Aprimorou-se em arranjos de frases, pontes e solos e soltou pela mesma gravadora "Jet Sounds Revisited" (2002). Dois ano depois, entra na lombra do pós-hard-bop e lança um dos seus discos mais elogiados, "Other Directions" (2004), lançado pela Blue Noite, nada menos que um dos selos musicais mais respeitados no planeta. Após seu hat-trick passeando pelo Acid, Hard e Pós-Bop, Nicola inicia uma ascensão metafísica ao Jazz Espiritual, lançando desde então muitas músicas com teor místico e com grande influências de Avant-Garde e do Free Jazz. Paralelo a isso, sempre cavucava e pesquisava afundo os grooves ao redor do globo para inspirações e referências. No momento em que chega ao seu quinto lançamento na carreira, estreitou e esmiuçou ainda mais laços com a cultura da bossa-nova e dos clubs. Em "Garota Diferente", álbum em parceria com a brasileira Rosalia de Souza, e lançado em 2004 (e re-lançado em 2007) pela Schema, Nic ultiliza de termos como bossa'n bass & bossa-lounge, onde conseguia muitos espaços dentro de novelas e programas televisivos fora do seu país. O álbum foi o primeiro pontapé para a carreira de Nicola entrar nos trilhos da glória.

A partir de 2008, Nicola lança uma série de 4 discos - "Rituals" (2008), "The Modern Sound Of Nicola Conte: Versions In Jazz-Dub" (2009), "Love & Revolution" (2011) e "Free Souls" (2014) - que perpassam por todos os subgêneros do jazz e outros ritmos aqui citados, com toques novos de Soul, Dub e novas experimentações com a música latina, sobretudo brasileira.

Inclusive, entre 2009 à 2013, Nicola Conte compilou 5 volumes de uma série de coletânea mixada por ele intitulada "Viagem", onde conta com um repertório fruto de sua pesquisa sobre a Bossa Nova e o Jazz brasileiro, contabilizando mais de 80 músicas dos anos 50 à meado dos anos 70. A Compilação foi lançada e catalogada pela Far Out Recordings. Três anos depois, lança seu disco mais famoso, apresentando a cantora Stefania Di Pierro, lançando músicas supostamente Lado B e se apropriando de outras afrobrasilidades. Trabelho conciso, mas sem identidade, apesar de toda musicalidade de Nicola, passa como um som groovado de plástico. Talvez por ser olhar de brasileiro, a crítica seja mais aguda e passível de revisão.

Após o disco com Stefania, lançado pela Far Out Recordings, fez mais algumas outras boas compilações em outras gravadoras como Blue Note, Universal e Prestige, mas foi na Far Out Recordings com quem teve maior afinidade e relevância. E foi nela que resolveu lançar e distribuir pro mundo o seu disco novo, cujo Nicola faz um arremate de toda sua história enquanto músico e musicista, sintetizando bem seu momento e suas influências ao longo da sua carreira.

Composto ao lado de seu amigo de longa data, o guitarrista Alberto Parmegiani, Conte reúne uma impressionante lista de convidados de todo o mundo, incluindo o vibrafonista francês Simon Mullier, o vocalista norte-americano Myles Sanko, o baterista sul-africano Fernando Damon, o ex-baixista de Roy Hargrove, Ameen Saleem e a sensação sérvia da flauta, Milena Jančurić.

Em "Umoja", Nicola Conte continua em sua jornada entre o Jazz e o Soul, as cadências latinas e africanas, dessa vez com a participação das incríveis Zara McFarlane e Bridgette Amofah, representando o Soul-Jazz de Londres.

O disco começa com o zig-zag das vozes, revezando em seis faixas, trazendo desde notas mais altas esfumaçando os instrumental ao fundo, ao mais sutil e charmosa interação de Zara e Amofah com o arranjo. Par1além das belas progressões melódicas, vozes e solos, o apelo das canções que tem letras chamam atenção pela potência lírica, onde aborda-se questões de identidade étnica e problemas sociopolíticos, além de uma poética em que se encaixa tanto na métrica quando na parte harmônica.

São múltiplas camadas que abrangem o décimo primeiro registro em estúdio do maestro italiano. Do mais ensolarado Afrobeat, passando pelos Batuques Afro-Caribeños, os encantos do Jazz Brasileiro... e no fim desemboca-se no Golfo em que tudo começou, na pulsação das águas do Mar Adriático, no ritmo da natureza em unção com o pop, o soul, o acid-jazz e as trilhas de novela italiana dos anos 70.

Lado B (ou Side 2) do álbum, traz-se um pouco mais do experimentalismo, do seu arcabouço enquanto pesquisador, trazendo influências que vão do Juju (Nigeria) e Highlife (Gana), até gêneros mais pops e comuns numa itália veranil como Bari, ritmos quentes como o Jazz House, Acid Disco - assim como as várias vertentes do próprio Funk - e mesclando com instrumentos como a flauta e vibrafone, ganhando ainda mais o ouvinte nessa alquimia sonora maluca do Funk progressivo norte-americano, o Samba-jazz brasileiro, o Afro-jazz do ocidente africano e o pop setentista do sul da Itália.

Nic e as cantoras londrinas seguem flutuando sob a sonoridade forte e original dos músicos da banda base do projeto. São eles o saxofonista tenor Timo Lassy, o tecladista multi-instrumentista Pietro Lussu, o guitarrista Alberto Parmegiani, os baixistas alternantes Ameen Salim, Marco Bardoscia e Luca Alemanno, o percussionista Abdissa Assefa e o baterista Teppo Mäkynen.

São eles que acrescentam as nuances certas para que o disco ganhe dinâmica e diálogo, não só para com o ouvinte, mas também com a obra em si como um todo. Desde batuques e riffs suíngados, ao decrescer dos sopros à uma introspecção. Em todas as fases, o papel de Conte foi mais voltado para a composição, arranjo, seleção dos músicos, assim como da produção das sessões, mas quase nunca como um instrumentista. Após a execução do álbum de cabo-a-rabo, entende-se o porquê.

A sincronia dos músicos foi tanta, que até mesmo os outros onze artistas que foram convidados para participar e colaborar no disco, seguiram a premissa e pegada parecida com a banda base, de forma linear. O fato de ser uma sessão de gravação de fato, acrescenta muito nos bastidores, assim como na audição da obra. Orgulhosamente revivalista, Umoja foi gravado diretamente em fita analógica, com apenas duas tomadas para cada faixa. "Procurando por uma sensação quase improvisada e não adulterada", Nicola garantiu que as poucas overdubs também fossem transferidas para a fita para manter a cor e o calor do som analógico. Tudo em 45 RPM. "Muito pouca pós-produção ou edição foi adicionada, então o que você ouve é majoritariamente o que aconteceu nessas mágicas sessões ao vivo".

A continuidade também foi dada pelo colaborador de Conte, Tommy Cavalieri, engenheiro de som do disco e dono do Sorriso Studio em Bari, onde fora gravados todos lançamentos mais característicos de Conte, desde "Jet Sounds" até o seu mais novo "Umoja".

No mais, as faixas com McFarlane e Amofah são os destaques do álbum. Também destaca-se as vocalizações de Timo Lassy, semelhantes às de Pharoah Sanders, por trás dos cantores. Realmente acrescenta um tempero à mais. O trabalho de percussão de Assefa também é algo notoriamente notável. Vale uma menção especial também para as faixas instrumentais "Heritage", "Umoja Unity", além de "Into The Light Of Love" (instrumental) e "Arise (instrumental)" - a versões sem vocais das faixas com McFarlane e Myles Sanko - que apresentam ao público a essência de "Umoja".

De Gary Bartz a Lonnie Liston. De Fela Kuti a Tony Allen. De Zimbo Trio a Roberto Menescal. De Sun Ra a Alice Contrane. De The Tramps ao Earth, Wind & Fire. De Cristiano Malgioglio a Piero Piccione, dentre muitos outros que são influências maravilhosas pra um trabalho brilhante, em que Nicola traz o afrofuturismo em sua premissa, contradizendo sua cor da pele, mas nunca a musicalidade presente, dando espaço para músicos pretos, e sobretudo de outros continentes marginalizados, e fazendo uma grande feijoada bambina.

Lançado pela Far Out Recordings, são 12 faixas coesas, concisas, bem trabalhadas, arranjadas e produzidas por Nicola, onde além do ecletismo, administra bem a narrativa de sua música e sua carreira, já que atingiu com o projeto intercontinental o mais alta musicalidade e nível até então.... mas peraí, afinal, o quê Significa "Umoja"?

Bem, caso você não saiba, volte duas casas e dê um Google... ou apenas ouça/compre o disco do artista no bandcamp, e obtenha o DL aqui no Selekta. É quente!

UMOJA!!

[somerandomcockroach]

AHGDAHGDH MMM I PRESENT MY 1 DAY MADNESS OVER THESE BOYS AND LOVE TO DANCES (and accidentally hearing this song again this morning which made my brain sqeacking)

[ongawdclub]

J a n e l l e

M o n a e

[chaos-bringer-13]

I've seen a lot of people writing Danny as a space ancient and Dan and Dani as ghosts with moon and sun cores, being sort of parts, versions of Danny and therefore weaker. Now, consider: Dan and Dani are both powerful ghosts with really cool cores and stuff but Danny is just some guy™

Dan, who came from an alternate timeline and is kind of from the future but also not, is Clockwork's apprentice and will eventually become an ancient of time. He probably only agreed to have some lessons with Clockwork to understand better what happened to him, but he enjoys his apprenticeship now.

Dani, with her love of travelling, loves seeing all the different places the world offers to her, and that includes space and different planets and maybe even parallel universes, and she accidentally ends up being an apprentice of the space ancient. For now she's probably a baby ancient of freedom or something like that, but she might become an ancient of space in the future.

We can also have something like Dan having a core of destruction or Dani being the Speed Force if you want it to be dcxdp, or any headcanon of yours about their cool powers.

And then there's Danny. And yeah, everyone knows that he's super powerful, but also he's just some guy.

It can go different routes. Does everyone know that Danny is just Danny? Or do they think that with siblings (well, technically a clone and an alternate version, but whatever) so powerful, he must be even stronger? Is Danny actually something terrifyingly eldritch and ancient and strong, almost a god, but he just doesn't know himself? Or is he just really some guy?

Now, because it's obvious that I have a dcxdp brainrot, have a regular "JL summons/meets a powerful ghost" but its Dan and Dani, and they keep mentioning their original/brother who won a fight against them at some point. The JL is very concerned about Dan and Dani's godlike powers, and they can't imagine what Danny is like. And then they meet him (in his human form), and it's just a young adult in casual clothes, very friendly and helpful, with no evident powers. Imagine the confusion. Imagine Dan and Dani, radiating power, in their eldritch ghost forms, admitting that fighting Danny for real is the dumbest thing to do and not even they would succeed... And then there's Danny is jeans and silly t-shirt, waving shyly.

[keferon]

Yea...I ..hm

Mistakes on mistakes until.. Until I scratch a hole in my tablet because I can't stop drawing them👌

[roses-and-revolutions]

DC x DP Prompt

To the delight of Gotham's citizens, and the dismay of her criminal underbelly, the GCPD has a new specialized unit that ACTUALLY apprehends criminals and brings them to justice!

It's a relatively small squad of mostly young adults, who looked fresh out of their teens. But age didn't matter once they got the work done. And they did, as they've already got criminals like Penguin, Riddler, and Bane behind bars for what looks to be 'for good'.

No one besides Commissioner Gordan knows anything about the squad as they operate as a mostly separate entity from GCPD. It was rare to see any of them, and any photos taken were unusually blurry. They are also extremely secretive; if you exclude their social media which are usually just shit posts, memes, and thirst edits of the Wayne family.

They were a total mystery. Almost as mysterious as Batman.

But those who have seen/worked with the squad before all had the same thing to say about them. They were cool. They had an unusually effective method. And their leader is a menace. With his sharp teeth and pointed smile. And bright blue eyes that spoke to your soul. It was a pleasure to see/ work with him, it really was. But they weren't planning on doing so again for a long time.

That being said, Gotham had been quiet for a while. A bit too quiet if you ask anyone, especially the Bats. Strangely, it didn't feel like the usual calm before the shit storm. The instinctual pit in their guts that usually formed just wasn't there. This was different. This wasn't the calm before the storm. This was the ocean receding. But no one seemed to realize it yet.

Not until the tsunami came crashing down on them.

The GCPD special unit accounts that had been inactive for the last three months suddenly pinged to life. Everyone who followed them clicked the notification almost immediately. With this unnerving calm surrounding them, who the hell didn't want to see what batshit crazy statement they would make after three months of radio silence.

What they didn't expect, was to see a crystal-clear picture of justice finally being served.

The picture was a selfie, taken in an abandoned warehouse. In the middle of the dirty floor was the Joker. He was tied up and his head hung low. You could see how beaten he was, his clothes torn and bloody. His face paint was also coming off, revealing pale blotchy skin. Reminding everyone that, he was still human, just like the rest of them.

Behind him, all lined up with smiles on their faces, was Team Phantom. They were a bit bloody and bruised as well but overall in much better condition. They weren't wearing the normal GCPD navy blue uniform, but black and white ones. All stylized to fit the wearers taste. They all looked so young, but their eyes looked like old tired eyes, finally getting some relief.

From in the corner was their leader. Only part of his face was in the picture. One glowing blue eye, and part of his Cheshire smile. His hand making a peace sign next to the Joker. Even with only part of his being shown, everyone could tell he was relived as well.

And while the picture itself was shocking, the caption was what really got them. The top was what you would usually expect from the team. A big bold 'GOT EM' ' at the top. But at the bottom in small, almost unnoticeable text was:

"He will face his punishment. We will get our retribution. May we finally rest in peace."

[am-1-ty]

@keferon’s AU’s have my jazz/prowl hyperfixation in a headlock.

They’re literally so cute I can’t even-

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

[canmking]

C h a k a K h a n

[somerandomcockroach]

And coloring based on @thegunnsara 's sketch

[2001hz]

Sade