#This team only works because August would not tap if his life depended on it

[mossspond]

Closer to the top of the grid, we have NEWTON ENGINES! Even if you’re not an AG racing fan, you know Lawson’s face. Every rookie dreams to make it through their academy program for a chance to taste that same glory.

And for the old guard fans looking for a second coming… this latest rookie is controversial at best. Not that August pays attention to that kind of thing.

[juhlcho15-blog]

Top Guidelines Of Marvel

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A Review Of Marvel Future Fight

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[ghouliexander]

HOLY SHIT IS THAT [ TYLER HOECHLIN ]?! Oh, wait it’s just [ ALEXANDER ‘XANDER’ GILBERT ]. Damn, [ HE ] looks good for [ 24 ], good thing that they’re [ BISEXUAL ], I might have a chance. I hear that they call them the [ REBEL HEART ] of the [ SOUTH SIDE ]. I guess that’s because they’re [ DETERMINED ] and [ HEADSTRONG ]. But I don’t think a lot of people know that they’re also [ STUBBORN ] and [ RUTHLESS ].

01.  BASICS

Full Name: Alexander James Gilbert

Nickname: Xander

Sex/Gender: Cis male

Birthday: August 11

Age: 24

Astrological Sign: Leo

Occupation: Drug dealer, street racer

Spoken Languages: English

Sexual Orientation: Bi with a preference for men

Birthplace: Riverdale

Relationship status: Single

02. PHYSICAL TRAITS

Hair Color/Style: Black, messy

Eye Color: Hazel

Face Claim: Tyler Hoechlin

Height: 6′0″

Weight: 160 lbs

Tattoos: Ghoulie tattoo on upper back, on the left sie

Piercings: None

Unique Attributes: Long scar on his left bicep from a switchblade

Defining Gestures/Movements: crossing his arms,  glaring

Posture: Confident, domineering

03. PERSONALITY TRAITS

Pet Peeves: slow drivers, loud chewers, people tapping things when they’re thinking

Hobbies/Interests: wood carving, boxing, plays the electric guitar

Special Skills/Abilities: has a degree in pharmaceuticals so he experiments with making new drugs a lot, is also an excellent driver and a nearly unstoppable fighter

Likes: whiskey, dogs, street racing

Dislikes: Serpents, cats, dolls

Insecurities: afraid of losing his family for good, not having control over his own life

Quirks/Eccentricities: can recite the entire periodic table on command, has an extremely high alcohol tolerance

Strengths: determined, headstrong, confident, ability to command respect

Weaknesses: closed off, lack of emotional vulnerability, ruthlessness, kind of an asshole

Speaking Style: measured, vaguely threatening

Temperament: scary calm

04. FAMILY & HOME

Immediate Family: Elliot Gilbert (brother), Clarissa Gilbert (mother, dancer at Afortunado)

How do they feel about their family? he cares about them, but he also doesn’t click with them, he feels like his mother is weak and that she could be so much more than a dancer at a club, and she doesn’t approve of his choice to be in a gang. He and Elliot have become distant but if his brother needed him, he’d help.

How does their family feel about them? They worry about him being in a gang, and are afraid of some of his harsher tendencies, they also wish he’d come back home instead of being out on his own.

Pets: A Rottweiler named Rex and a King Shepherd named Zeus, he loves both dearly and would kill anyone who hurt them

Where do they live? Southside of Riverdale, either in a trailer in Ghoulie territory or in the upper level of the House Of The Dead depending on the day

Description of their home: his trailer is neat, he doesn’t have a lot of homey possessions, just the bare essentials. the House Of The Dead is messy on the bottom, but his bedroom/workspace on the upper floor is pretty well organized

Description of their bedroom: both are clean, tidy, not super flashy, just with the bare essentials... the one at the House of the Dead also hosts some lab space and a safe where they stash drug money

05. THIS OR THAT

Introvert or Extrovert?

Optimist or Pessimist?

Leader or Follower?

Confident or Self-Conscious?

Cautious or Careless? Depends on the situation

Religious or Secular?

Passionate or Apathetic?

Book Smarts or Street Smarts? Both, leaning towards streets

Compliments or Insults?

Pajamas or Lingerie? Boxers

06. FAVORITES

Favorite Color: Red

Favorite Clothing Style/Outfit: Dark colours, leather jacket usually

Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: rock, alternative

Favorite Movies: action, thrillers, horror

Favorite Books: Stephen King

Favorite Foods/Drinks: Chinese food, whiskey

Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: Patriots

Favorite Time of Day: Dusk

Favorite Weather/Season: Autumn

Favorite Animal: Dogs

07. MISCELLANEOUS

Fears/Superstitions: losing his family, letting down his walls, losing control of his destiny

Political Views: centre

Addictions: none

Best School Subject: Science

Worst School Subject: History

School Clubs/Sports: n/a

How does he get money? drug dealing, winning street races

How is he with technology? Pretty average

08. PAST & FUTURE

Fondest Memory: Winning his first street race when he was 15

Deepest, Darkest Secret: He tested out an experimental drug on one of the younger Ghoulies a few years ago and they died — he made it look like a suicide and no one’s asked any questions since

Dream Vacation: visiting South Africa

Best thing that has ever happened to this character: Getting his motorcycle

Worst thing that has ever happened to this character: Losing his first dog, Jasey

What do they want to be when they grow up? when he was a kid he wanted to be a firefighter but he doesn’t really have any plans right now that go far beyond the present

Perfect Date: It ends in sex

09. BIO

Alexander Gilbert joined the Ghoulies when he was 14 years old, sick of dealing with his mother’s constant degradation at the club where she danced and constantly clashing with his brother. Instead, he left home to find his own way, and joined the Ghoulies, where he felt wanted, valued and important. Along the way he picked up a lot of skills, and worked his way up until he was a trusted member of senior command. Still, he never liked the Snake Charmer or her daughter... what business did they have here? Only joining the Ghoulies when they were rejected from the Serpents? It rubbed him the wrong way. There were infinite Ghoulies more fit to lead them than that whore and her daughter.

But Xander remained quiet, the perfect gang member, the perfect soldier, and bided his time. Eventually someone would slip up, would crack, and he would seize the opportunity to take power and lead the Ghoulies to their rightful place in Riverdale, controlling the South Side as they should be and grinding the Serpents into the ground.

Wickedly smart, and full of potential if he actually bothered to put it into something legal, Xander went to college, studying long enough to get a pharmaceutical degree that he put into practice experimenting with new types of drugs to hook the denizens of Riverdale on to. He also street races like a pro, even if his bike is his preferred means of transportation. He knows a lot of what he does hurts other people, but why is that his problem? If people seek out drugs, that’s their problem, not his. He’s just filling a need. If he didn’t do it, someone else would.

Not one for feelings, getting him into your bed is easy, but getting him to let you into his heart is sure as hell a lot harder. Xander is cold, and calculating, and he’s happy to be that way. It’s what’s going to help him get the Ghoulies back on top and make sure no one fucks with them again.

[galfridus1]

Happy Birthday Arthur!

It’s 17 August here and it’s Arthur’s birthday!! Many happy returns!

Here’s a fic, inspired by prompt from @thestarrynightgazer and with thanks to @maybeishouldwait for comments. This is part one of three/four depending on whether you count reblogs.

***

“It’s his birthday? Today?”

Zeldris looked at Gelda with absolute incredulity, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he griped as he shot out of bed, quickly rummaging in the wardrobe for something to wear. “Now I’ve got less than eight hours to find him a present.”

Gelda looked up at him, her face calm and serene as she propped herself up with a number of pillows. “I would have thought you’d remember,” she chastised, a slight smile curving the left side of her mouth. “How long have we been living together now? Time enough for you to know when Arthur’s birthday is. And besides it’s on the calendar…”

“Yes, yes alright!” Zeldris grumbled as he pulled on some clothes. “What’s happening anyway?”

Gelda looked at him, her violet eyes gleaming and Zeldris felt the breath catch in his throat. It was the one feature they shared, their eyes so like one another’s, their beauty causing him pause even after all these years. “You have no need to worry,” she chuckled, “I’ve sorted everything out. The party will be here. Arthur knows nothing about it but everyone else does, and I booked catering. The cake is a masterpiece.”

“How are you always so organised?” Zeldris muttered as he checked his reflection in the full-length mirror, running a hand through his hair to make sure the spikes were arranged in their proper place.

“It’s easy really,” Gelda replied, “You just have to pay attention and get stuff done. Which is what you should do now. I have suggestions for gifts if you’d like?”

Zeldris paused, his lips pressed together as he battled temptation. “No. I do this every year. I’m going to get him something myself this time.”

Gelda laughed, the tinkling sound reverberating through the air. “Well, good luck. Text me if you draw a blank.”

***

Four hours later Zeldris sincerely regretted telling his girlfriend that he did not need her help. He had scoured what felt like the whole of Oxford Street, trying and failing to find something Arthur might feasibly want as a gift. But it was all to no avail. The problem was Arthur had everything any twenty-five year old could possibly want, and if he got him alcohol again Gelda would no doubt raise her eyebrows, the expression saying ‘I told you so’ more clearly than any words could convey.

Still, a bottle of some random liquor was better than nothing. Turning abruptly, adroitly dodging the crowds swarming past in the opposite direction, Zeldris made his way back to the department store he had listlessly explored earlier that morning. The day was hot, the relentless August sun beating down on the shoppers who dragged their feet limply down the tarmaced street but Zeldris trudged on, wrinkling his nose in disgust as the odd smell of grease from the stalls dotting the sides of the road caused him to gag slightly. He just wanted the whole sorry experience to be over. Thank goodness Gelda’s birthday was not until April next year.

He was nearing the pretentious facade of Selfridges when a conversation caught his attention, the words somehow penetrating his consciousness above the hubbub of chatter. His eyes strayed to a small girl walking alongside her mother, clutching at a lead for dear life as an enthusiastic puppy pulled her forcefully along. The animal looked delighted, oblivious to the weather, and Zeldris was surprised to feel a twinge of longing piercing his chest. It looked so much fun, and of course Arthur had always wanted a dog.

Zeldris stood stock still, causing several passersby to bump into him forcefully. And why not? True, a dog was not ideal - they shed hair like nobody’s business and made their surroundings smell like mouldy old socks when wet - but the three of them were older now, and well off. They could easily afford to look after a pet, and it could always live outside in the garden. And as a gift it was at least original; Gelda could hardly complain that he had wimped out this time.

***

About half an hour later, Zeldris was standing in the reception of Battersea Dogs and Cats home, the only place he could think of in central London where one might find a canine at short notice. The walls were covered in pictures and leaflets showcasing the charity’s many success stories, sorry-looking mongrels, skeletal and with mangy fur, transformed into sleek, happy and well-beloved pets. He was just congratulating himself on his brilliant idea when the voice of the receptionist pulled him back to reality.

“You need to book an appointment for an interview about adopting a dog,” she gently explained as she tapped on her computer keyboard. “We have slots next week, but nothing available until then, I’m afraid.”

Zeldris felt his heart sink slightly. “Is there nothing sooner?” he asked cautiously. “I was really hoping to get one today.”

“Well that’s out for a start,” the woman said sharply, her eyes drilling into him as she turned away from her screen. “We are very careful here. We don’t let just anyone adopt a dog. There’s an initial interview, a home visit to check suitability, and then an observation when a suitable pet has been found. The whole process takes about a month.”

“A month?” Zeldris asked incredulously. “But… I mean…”

“If you’re after a specific dog, don’t worry, there’s always plenty, and sometimes the cute ones aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” the lady continued, her expression softening slightly. “We have dozens of Staffies and they’re great companions. People look down on them, but they’re wonderful. I have three myself.”

“It’s not that,” Zeldris said quickly, feeling an unwelcome heat flooding his cheeks. “It’s… well this is embarrassing. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday today and he’s always wanted a dog. I really wanted to surprise him.”

“Awww!” The noise that issued from the woman’s mouth was somewhere between a sigh and a swoon. “That’s so, so… romantic,” she gushed, and Zeldris felt the blush he was trying to manage spiral out of control. “But it doesn’t change things,” she added more gently, a sad smile on her face. “There’s no way you can adopt a dog as a surprise. Our team will need to talk to your boyfriend too.”

Zeldris was on the point of making a hasty exit when he caught a calculating look in the receptionist’s eyes. “But…” she began, her lips pursed in thought.

“Go on,” he encouraged, with some effort forcing his face to return to its normal countenance. “You have something in mind?”

“As it happens, yes,” the woman continued, the words accompanied by a vigorous nod. “You see, the team raided a kitten farm a few days ago. The poor things were being kept in such awful conditions and… well the upshot is we have far more cats than we know how to deal with. And a slot for an interview just opened up. If we have a cat that’s a match for your family then you can take it home with you today.”

“A cat?” Zeldris mulled over the idea and the more he thought about it the more pleased he became. They were by far superior animals in every way. They cleaned themselves, did not require walks, and had the added benefit that they would keep any pests at bay. Zeldris pictured himself sitting on the sofa, a dainty feline jumping up to him and laying its head in his lap. And Arthur did like cats. Maybe not as much as dogs but he did like them. Only last month he had been encouraging a stray to visit the garden, that is until the sorry-looking animal had given him fleas.

“Thank you, why not,” he finally said, returning the receptionist’s eager smile as the lady started tapping away at her computer once more.

***

No long after, Zeldris found himself being led up the stairs towards a room that smelled strongly of biscuits and bleach. The walls were lined on all sides with cages, perspex doors with holes in giving a glimpse into the almost identical habitats within. Each cat had bowls of food and water, a litter tray and a box to hide in, as well as a few toys scattered about on the white laminate surfaces. The occupants however could not have been more varied: the cats came in every colour imaginable; some ran up towards their doors, rubbing their heads against the plastic in greeting while others shied away, turning their backs.

The interview had been an informal affair consisting of a few questions about the household amenities and some quiz-like queries about the cost of vet care and insurance. Zeldris was glad he had read the blurb on the organisation’s website as he’d waited for his meeting with one of the Home’s volunteers to begin; the answers he’d needed were still fresh in his mind.

“Now let’s see…” the volunteer murmured as he leafed through the notes of interview, the papers rustling slightly in his fingers. “Three adults, all of you working long hours, and no children. I think we have just the cat for you.

“I have to warn you he’s lazy, which is good because he will basically do nothing to the house while you’re at work. But don’t expect him to be a good mouser,” the young man added as he led Zeldris to a cage in the corner of the room. Inside sat one of the fattest creatures Zeldris had ever seen; the white and ginger cat was at least as wide as it was long, if not wider, and sat at its empty food bowl with a mournful expression. It looked like a circle more than anything, or perhaps a stuffed cushion, though the colouring reminded him strongly of Arthur.

“His name is Cath, don’t ask me why,” the volunteer said as he gave the cat an affectionate look. “And as you can see he likes his food. We’ve put him on a diet since he’s arrived and he’s not been too happy about it. But I think some proper fuss will help him settle.”

Zeldris, regarding Cath with something approaching disgust, was on the point of asking if any other unwanted felines were possibly available when the volunteer opened the cage. Before Zeldris knew what was happening the cat had launched itself into his arms and started purring loudly, the vibrations reverberating through him as Cath fell asleep.

“He’s… not done that with anyone before,” the volunteer said incredulously. “He must really like you!”

“Probably just hungry,” Zeldris muttered under his breath but deep down he was secretly pleased. It was nice to be holding the cat, who was even heavier than he looked, in the knowledge that the feline was at least a bit choosy.

The young man retrieved a wad of papers stuck in a plastic folder next to the cage, his eyes flicking from side to side as they traced the words on the pages. “Cath has a clean bill of health, and he’s been fully vaccinated. He’s ready to go,” he said cheerfully as he gave Zeldris a wide smile. “He’s a well adjusted cat too. Nothing untoward in his past; his previous owners just couldn’t afford to feed him I think.”

Prising Cath out of his arms proved more difficult than expected but eventually, between them, two volunteers managed to wrestle the animal into a travel box. So it was that, loaded down with food, a litter tray and, of course, the enormous cat in a cage, Zeldris set off in a taxi heading for home. He imagined how pleased Arthur and Gelda would be even as the weight of the cat pressed into his lap.

It was only as he approached the terraced house the three of them shared that he noticed his phone, the lock screen flashing to show he had several missed calls and a veritable flurry of unread messages, most of them containing the words ‘where are you’ in capital letters. It was much later than he had thought, and the party would likely be starting soon, that is if it was not already underway.

In a rush, Zeldris paid the taxi driver and made his way as quickly as possible to the door of the house, hampered in his efforts by the amount of cargo he carried. He was met on the threshold by a furious Gelda. “Where have you been?” she hissed, her eyes smouldering into his own before she caught sight of the amount of stuff he was carrying, “And what is all this?”

“I got him a cat,” Zeldris said lamely, his voice sounding unsure even in his own ears. Gelda stared him with undisguised astonishment, before her face morphed into an enormous grin. In a second she was kneeling before the travel cage, cooing like an imbecile at the still-purring feline.

“That’s an amazing idea! You are completely forgiven,” Gelda said in rapture as she opened the cage, the huge cat launching into her arms in an instant. “Let’s go give it to him now. We’ve already done the reveal. He was surprised,” she added with a little reproach in her voice as she settled the cat more securely in her arms. “Where did you get it from?”

Zeldris felt slightly aggrieved as Gelda led the way towards the dining room, the cat still purring contentedly in her arms as she sashayed down the hall. “I got him from Battersea,” he grumbled as he followed behind, having deposited the various bags at the door. “And for your information it was a bit of a mission. I think I should be the one to give him to Arthur…”

“Surprise!” Gelda shouted as she flung open the door, revealing a large group of people all holding glasses. The mahogany dining table was groaning with food, an absolutely enormous cake standing proudly in the centre. It was shaped like a castle, iced walls and turrets rising up proud to form three tiers of confection topped with red and green flags. “It’s Castle Camelot,” Gelda whispered into his ear as Zeldris stared at it in amazement. “You know, because he’s Arthur Pendragon. Cost me a small fortune to commission but I think it’s worth it.”

The guests were just beginning to make suitable noises in response to the cat’s appearance when, without warning, it launched itself from Gelda’s arms. Zeldris watched in horror as Cath leapt onto the table and, without hesitation, nose-dived straight into the castle cake, knocking it into pieces in an instant.

The whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion. The tall turrets fell to the table, crumbling on impact, covering the pristine white tablecloth in icing and jam. The guests looked on with horror-stricken faces, mouths open in shock and eyes wide as saucers. The previously cheerful room was now silent as the grave save for the mewls of the cat, who was devouring the cake as if he had not eaten in weeks, small globules scattering from his whiskers into the mass of golden crumbs. Zeldris felt Gelda stiffen noticeably at his side, the soft sound of her breathing betraying her perturbation; it took a lot to upset her but once she was she cried easily. He dared not turn to look into her face, sure that she would be on the point of tears.

Amidst all the commotion, his eyes caught Arthur’s and he felt terrible on seeing his boyfriend’s face was a picture of desolation. Then, suddenly, Arthur began to laugh. First, his lip twisted, a faint chuckle bubbling up before the sound built and grew into an almighty guffaw. Arthur threw his head back, tears of mirth beading the corners of his eyes as he stared at the mess which had once been the most elaborate cake ever to be constructed. Arthur was of course quick to smile, but it had been a while since he had looked quite this happy.

With some relief, Zeldris felt the change in atmosphere trickle through the room as their friends caught the mood, smiles and laughter returning as they passed bottles of wine and spirits round to replenish their drinks. Glasses clinked and jokes passed as the guests quickly retrieved their phones to capture the sight of the ruined cake. It would no doubt be the star of social media before the hour was out, along with the feline who had caused the destruction.

With some trepidation, Zeldris slipped an arm around Gelda, unsurprised to feel her tremble in his grasp. He was relieved to find that she leant into his touch. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her as he held her close, both arms encircling her waist as Gelda pressed her face into his shoulder. “They did say he was on a diet but I never thought…”

“That. Was. Hilarious!” Arthur said heartily, moving round the table to join them. He had managed to scoop up the cream-covered cat before it moved on to the rest of the food, depositing dairy smears and crumbs all over his jacket in the process. With a slightly apologetic look, Arthur kissed Gelda tenderly, stroking her hair with his free hand and Zeldris felt her relax against him. It was nice, comforting, the effect only slightly marred as Arthur added with unbridled enthusiasm, “I love him! What’s his name?”

“Cath,” Zeldris confirmed as the now-stuffed animal rubbed its face into Arthur’s chest, continuing to purr as if it was some sort of drilling machine. “His name is Cath. And starting now he is not allowed in the dining room.”

[kpopreactionstoruinyourlife]

Song Girl - Part 17 - Sungjin Fan Fiction

Song Girl Masterlist

Part 17 - August 2014

Summary: one of those nights with friends where you fail at badminton.

The heatwave had broken, so almost everyone had gotten together that night to enjoy it. Ella, Amanda, and Brian were going back to school in just two weeks and the city had been too hot for any of them to do much more than stay in glorious air conditioning.

“So I say that we have to play Badminton.” Jae said, hoisting the bag of shuttlecocks and rackets higher on his shoulder. He spent their first two minutes of the walk to the park getting shit for bringing it.

Brian rolled his eyes, not making another comment because he was eating the street food he’d just gotten with Wonpil.

“Just don’t let El have a baseball. I had a bruise of the laces for two weeks the last time I tried it with her.” Amanda said poking Ella.

“I’m still getting over who you never said anything to me about baseball in the year I’ve known you when you’re actually into baseball.” Sungjin said, gently tugging her hair while she rolled her eyes.

“My dad keeps updating me - it looks like the Nats might make it to the playoffs.” Ella said, unable to keep a big grin off her face.

“Your babies!” Amanda teased.

“Who cares?” Jae said as they reached an open badminton court.

“Rude.” Ella said bluntly, sticking her tongue out at him. Jae didn’t care as he focused on getting the Badminton gear out.

“Are we doing teams?” Sungjin asked, his arm draped over Ella’s shoulder.

“Yep, you and me captains and I choose first.” Jae said handing a racket to Sungjin.

“You’re up to something.” Brian said tossing the wrapping off his food.

“Yep,” Jae said handing Sungjin three rackets. “Ella, you’re with me.”

Sungjin tried to keep his displeased expression off his face.

“I’ll go easy on you.” She said with a smile, kissing his cheek while she passed him.

“Right, somehow, I’m not convinced you’ll be too much of a challenge. I know your weaknesses.” He whispered bopping her nose to make her laugh.

“You’re on.”

“I wouldn’t make that bet. Badminton and baseball were the only sports she was any good at in PE.” Amanda said.

“Wonpil.” Sungjin said and the other boy approached with a smile taking his own racket. Brian had wondered off to get a drink.

“Amanda,” Jae said and she nodded, moving over to be with Ella.

“Brian, you ready?” Sungjin said handing him the last racket.

“Yep,” He said with a big smile. They were all happy to be outside and letting loose a bit.

“I won’t go easy on you,” Sungjin said to El from over the net. She got an evil smile.

“Don’t distract my player!” Jae said waving his racket between their faces.

Sungjin was not prepared for the events that were about to transpire.

By the time the three games were over, everyone was ready to take a break to get something to drink and rest. And Sungjin was ready to forget just how devilishly elated El looked when she surprised him with her badminton skills.

“Why am I still finding things out about you after all this time?” Sungjin said while they stood in line at a bubble tea place.

“People are very complicated.” Ella said, using a napkin to pat away some of her sweat.

“Am I not supposed to know you better than anyone?” He asked, half teasing.

Amanda snorted. “You’ll never know her like I do. We are the real power couple.” She finished with wrapping her arms around Ella’s shoulders, the two of them laughing.

“And I’m finding things out about you; for example, you are bad at badminton, and are finding it hard to believe that I am better than you.”

“Ok, but you say yourself that you don’t even run.” Sungjin said, just making her roll her eyes.

“Just because I don’t run does not mean I can’t run. Besides, there’s not that much running in badminton.”

“Dude, just accept we’re better than you. True blue.” Jae said before devolving into a rap until Brian flicked his arm.

“Does everyone have what they ordered?” Amanda asked while handing out the drinks.

Once they sorted that out, they headed back to the park. This time they didn’t move toward the sports areas but just picked a grassy area and spread out blankets before lounging down on them. Ella and Sungjin were on the first, Amanda and Jae the second, and Brian and Wonpil the third and Brian was lying back, looking like he was about to fall asleep.

“So where is Junhyeok tonight then?” Amanda asked, resting her arms on her knees.

“He had a date.” Sungjin said, accepting Ella’s silent invitation to rest his head on her thighs. She automatically started twisting her fingers in his hair.

“If he can get her to be his girlfriend, we’ll never hear the end of it.” Jae said after he made the required gagging sound at Ella and Sungjin.

“Oh yeah, he’d just gloat that he’s got someone and we don’t.” Wonpil said in a low voice. He was busying his hands in the grass.

“Surely you can find someone.” Amanda said and Jae snorted.

“I’m still struggling to read Korean.” Jae said.

“A Korean girlfriend is a good way to learn.” Brian said without opening his eyes.

Sungjin didn’t say it was probably a good thing they didn’t have girlfriends. If they were going to debut, they’d have to break up - it was best to minimize the number of casualties.

“Have you been secretly working to make my Korean better?” Ella whispered, curling his bangs around her finger. He smiled, reaching up to trace his finger over her nose.

“I could always understand your Korean.” He replied.

“So… how’s that research coming El?” Jae asked, pulling at the grass.

She froze for a moment, not wanting to say she likely had less than a year left in Seoul.

Her freezing didn’t escape Sungjin’s notice.

“It’s good. Only have a few more courses left. It’s nice not to be teaching right now.”

“Speak for yourself. Teaching English can be like pulling teeth.” Amanda groaned, flopping back on the blanket just as Sungjin sat up, sliding over over to sit next to Ella.

“It’s a bastard language.” Ella said bluntly, making Jae and Brian chuckle while Wonpil and Sungjin gave her a strange look. “You haven’t heard this rant either?” She asked Sungjin, who shook his head.

“Are you hiding all your ranting interests from me?” He asked, and she shrugged.

“It’s for your own good!” Amanda said loudly.

“This one is short. Basically English is a bastard son of Germanic with Nordic influences raised by the French with rules from Latin.”

For a moment, he was left to wonder how he’d found her. A girl who could rattle off stuff like that as if it was nothing. A girl who would turn to him just as he was looking at her, and smile, or make a silly face, or lean over to kiss him, or giggle when he leaned over to kiss her. A girl who listened to every lyric, every worry, or sit in silence if he didn’t have anything to say, fitting perfectly in the curves and nooks of his body. A girl with a brilliant mind, and passionate heart. A girl who was a little socially inept, blunt, and awkward. A girl who’d whisper ‘I love you,’ every night, or text it in the morning, or coo when he whispered it to her. A girl whose walls he watched slowly crumble. A girl who could think and talk far faster than him. A girl he was incredibly lucky to have.

“Good god, what is your brain?” Jae sighed, with Amanda agreeing.

“I listen to a lot of podcasts.” Ella said with a laugh.

“You must have that minimal brain plaque that Einstein had.” Amanda said, reaching over to tap Ella’s head.

“Wait, your brain gets plaque?” Jae said jumping up.

“Their more like a plaque-like film that builds up in the brain as you age, and when they studied Einstein’s brain, or maybe it was Edison, anyway, whoever’s brain, he didn’t have it and neurologists think that might be related to why he was able to be so prolific with research into his later life.” Ella said, speaking quickly.

“Can I borrow your mind for my classes?” Brian asked, propping himself up.

“Really, it’s just stuff like that, weird stuff, that sticks in my head. Please stop…” She trailed off, not knowing how to describe it. She didn’t like when people called that much attention to her mind. She’d spent more than a decade as the freaky smart girl. She’d rather that be behind her.

“So how does memory work?” Jae asked, addressing both Amanda and Ella.

“Depends,” Amanda answered lightly.

“There’s many theories and constructions; working memory, information processing, and attentional theory...There’s a lot of sides to it.” Ella finished.

“So exactly how complicated is the brain?” Wonpil asked.

“It’s either one cubic millimeter or one cubic centimeter, whichever one, within that space there are more neural connections than starts in the universe.” Ella said, moving her hands around.

“Shit, and that’s all this old thing can handle.” Jae said patting his head.

“And it’s getting late.” Sungjin said checking his phone.

“We do have training in the morning.” Brian said stretching and getting up.

“Did you enjoy your cat-nap?” Amanda asked and Brian chuckled, rolling his shoulders.

“I enjoy most naps.”

“NASA determined an ideal nap time is approximately twenty-six minutes, would should approximate half a REM cycle, and they believe the ideal temperature to sleep is approximately sixty-three degrees F.” Ella said as she and Sungjin stood.

“See? This is the kind of random conversations we should have been having when we met instead of ‘oh I can get your brain scanned.’” Sungjin said, ruffling her hair.

“But that makes such a good story!”

“No!” Jae said loudly. “That is not a good story.”

“What would be a good story?” Amanda asked as she helped to fold up the blankets.

“I don’t know, you hit him with a spit ball, he spilled coffee on you, something besides brain scans. Do you have much I worried about your ability to function socially after that?” Jae said looking at Ella with a desperate look.

“Hey! That’s offensive! I got you to be my friend, didn’t I?” Ella said, a pink coming into her cheeks.

“I think it’s fitting. At least for them.” Wonpil said, more quietly than Jae, but it was enough to saite Ella’s growing bruise to her ego.

“Every couple is weird.” Amanda said. “I got together with my last boyfriend after I hit him in the face playing badminton.”

“Ok, I am so glad that didn’t happen.” Jae said.

“And it wasn’t worth it to get that towel all bloodied - he was an asshole.” Amanda continued.

“I have no idea how you ended up with a misogynist.” Ella said, nodding with her.

“I repeat; Asshole.”

“How was he a misogynist?” Jae asked.

“He wanted me to do everything for him, all the ‘women’s work.’” Amanda said, her lingering frustration and annoyance with that guy evident in her voice and in her face.

“Plus, he always tried to shut her opinions down - maybe it was the whole obedient Asian girlfriend stereotype?” Ella said in a lower voice just to Amanda, who shrugged before nodding.

“And the benevolent sexism…” Amanda sighed before she shook her head. “Let’s not get into your rant on that.” She finished, taking her own turn to ruffle Ella’s hair.

“Oh my many raging feminist rants - secret ingredient: wine.” Ella sighed wistfully.

“Earth to El, Korean please?” Sungjin said, giving her hand a squeeze. Neither of them had even noticed they started speaking in English.

“It’s cool, they’re just have a feminist bonding moment.” Jae translated, patting Sungjin’s shoulder.

“And a moment to bond over previously dating assholes.” Ella finished.

“Ah,” Sungjin said nodding along, just accepting he might not be able to fully understand exactly what had transpired right in front of him.

“Anyway, this is where I will leave you. I’ll see y’all later.” Amanda said, bowing down toward one street after they exited the park.

“We’ll go with you, we’re heading down that way.” Jae said heading down with her, followed by Wonpil and Brian. “See you in the morning bro,” He added, saying bye to Sungjin before Wonpil and Brian said their own to the couple. Just before they headed in separate directions, Ella jogged over to hug Amanda goodbye before returning back to Sungjin.

“You seem particularly wired tonight.” Sungjin said after they weaved through a minor crowd without speaking. She laughed, sliding her hand into his.

“Nothing gets me fired up like feminist frustration.” She said squeezing his hand. “But I think it’s really that I’ve just been taking a break to re-focus back on stuff that I enjoy. That tends to give people energy.”

“So, in the interest of knowing more things that I apparently didn’t, are you politically involved?”

“Interesting way of phrasing of it, but yes. It is hard to be politically involved here but living so close to DC back home, it’s hard not to be. Very liberal, lived in a very liberal bubble, very feminist, very incapable of understanding certain aspects of conservatism.”

There was that word again. Home. But she wasn’t talking about Korea, or even him, she was talking about the United States. Somewhere thousands and thousands of miles away from Korea, away from him. A place like that, so far away, was admittedly the last place he wanted her to be calling home.

At the same time, he’d heard her use ‘home’ to refer to him, Seoul, Korea, her apartment, and the US as a whole, or even Nationals Park.

“And these are values that you want me to share?” He asked after a moment.

“I wouldn’t marry someone who didn’t share those values. But I wouldn’t be with you for months if I didn’t think you did, or at least mostly did. Feminism alone is deeply misunderstood and there might be a cultural element at play. I just want you to respect me and support my views and passions, even if you don’t actively hold them. I certainly don’t expect you to hold them in the same strength, passion, and firmness that I do.” She said, her brows knitting together as she spoke. “Does that make sense? I might be talking too much. I’m not a man-hating feminist, but I tend to have a certain distaste with men who hold that stereotype. I really am talking too much.”

“It makes sense. I think that’s fair. I don’t really have much of a politically active side.” He said and she chuckled.

“I pretty sure I only developed mine because I lived so close to DC.” She said just as they arrived to her apartment.

“I had something I wanted to ask you.” He said while they stopped in her mailroom.

“Shoot,” She said, flipping through envelops.

“Why did you tense up when Jae asked about your research?” He said in a low voice. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer but it had peaked his curiosity.

“Oh…” She said slowly, dragging out the word to formulate her response. “It’s just that...we’re about halfway done with everything…” She trailed off, hoping he could put the rest together without her having to say it.

Once the research was finished, the research team, including her, would pack and return to their university back in the United States.

She took a moment before she looked him in the eye again. When she did, he couldn’t help but notice the sad shadows coloring them.

“Glad to know I’m still the best at killing the mood.” He said with a hollow laugh. She gave a weak smile. He knew she’d only stay until her work was done; he wasn’t enough of a draw to make her stay - she would need more than just him and he was still hoping to debut. It’d be easy to avoid breaking the dating ban she was back in the US.

“I plan to come back, for my doctorate.” She said in a soft voice.

That would be enough hope for him. She always followed through with her plans.

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: 2019 Training Camp Opens

Hockey is back! This offseason was a little bit slimmer on the back end than last year, phrasing intended; so the gap of time created by Hockey-less August felt much more oppressive. Earlier this week in the blog on the Prospect Tournament I waxed on poetically about how it’s harder to get excited for the Sabres this season. We’re probably looking at a less that 50% chance this team qualifies for the playoffs this season. Between the completion of the Prospect tournament and the arrival of Training Camp, my Sabres heart has come thundering back to life this week. That’s a huge relief considering the aforementioned difficulty seeing this club make the playoffs this season given its current roster construction. More good news: Training Camp narratives are not in short supply! Last year we celebrated competition at Training Camp as a long-awaited sign the team was turning a corner. Perhaps it was still the residual haze of the Jeff Skinner trade washing over us, but something was new about this club going into last year. This year still features a lot of competition for roster spots, Thank God, but this time around it requires a little bit more creative thinking to see how different players raise up the club overall. Last year both of Jeff Skinner and Conor Sheary were upgrades on the left wing no matter how you cut it. In the same way Rasmus Dahlin was a huge upgrade, even as a rookie, on defense. As the players filed into the building for their physicals yesterday and engaged in media day it may be helpful for us to look at Training Camp competition positionally this Preseason. While the new pieces and therefore the tighter competition for fewer roster spots came in the forward corps last year, this go around the change is much more obvious on defense… hopefully.

The big X factor I see in this year’s Training Camp is the guy behind the bench. Ralph Krueger returns to NHL coaching with the Buffalo Sabres six years after an Edmonton Oilers organization in even more chaos than the current version let him go. For someone looking at Krueger’s history for hints at how he’ll coach and deploy players it’s like he’s a super-electable politician: he’s more or less what you want him to be. In other words, he’s something of an empty glass you put your values in. The buzzwords that orbited around him in the early summer when he was hired were communication and flexibility. We were teased about that flexibility a couple days ago when he said this Training Camp will see the players pick what positions they’re fighting for a spot in. More on that later. After firing a Head Coach who was only consistently inconsistent with his roster deployment, General Manager Jason Botterill opted for someone in Krueger who maybe more of a chameleon. The last three coaches of the Sabres, two of which who are still being paid to not coach the team, were problematic in large part because they were too rigid in their systems and didn’t allow the skill players to be skilled in game situations. Phil Housley was moderately better than Dan Blysma on that front but all shit stinks, right? Ralph Krueger is going to let his butterflies fly and rigid is certainly not a word to describe him in anyway. Beyond that however it’s hard to say what exactly his style and decision-making will look like come Opening Night. He’s the biggest wildcard this preseason and maybe also once the games mean something in the regular season.

Unlike in past seasons this year we find ourselves with a rare logjam on the blueline. There are too many good defenseman on the Sabres depth chart! That was such a weird sentence to write! While at least three of Brandon Montour, Marco Scandella, Zach Bogosian and Lawrence Pilut will start the season in the Press Box nursing injuries, only two of those guys will the average Sabres fan be dying to see get back on the ice. Rasmus Ristolainen and Marco Scandella are two players you want off this club pretty soon for very different reasons. Ristolainen is likely traded for just not being up to par in the advanced stats categories the modern game requires of its defenseman. It was hilarious but encouraging to hear Risto acknowledge his defensive game needs some work yesterday. If he is on this roster Opening Night let’s hope we see the effort pay off. Marco Scandella on the other hand is, to put it creatively, a crater full of trash. Those two players, on the right and left sides of defense respectively, are jamming up the pipes for a handful of really awesome pieces fighting for roster spots. Colin Miller was acquired via trade with the hope he could be a good shutdown-defenseman on the second or first pairing depending on how optimistic you are. He probably makes the roster below the pairing he deserves. On the younger side Brandon Montour and Henri Jokiharju are poised for breakout seasons if they’re given the right opportunities. You could argue Montour could single-handedly be the difference maker on whether this club is close to that playoff line or not come April. Then again Jake McCabe and Zach Bogosian still have jobs if they’re not beaten for them this preseason. If Housley were still coach I’d tell you the chances of the kids getting their shot at changing this team, even in preseason action, are slim. Again, Krueger is a huge wildcard here and there’s a lot to be learned in the preseason games coming up next week. Two more dark-horses worth mentioning in any conversation about Buffalo’s defense are Lawrence Pilut and Will Borgen. Pilut was a true rising star in the chances he got last season and it will be very interesting to see what he can do after returning from injury. Will Borgen on the other hand has been developing for what feels like an eternity. The season he finally looks ready to make the jump to the NHL and that’s the season there is this giant logjam. Don’t be surprised to see him really gunning for a look as Training Camp goes on though.

The offense should be an easier discussion. It’s not because Jason Botterill’s weird move of the offseason was bringing back several guys who are or should be on their way out the door. I am totally okay with not buying anyone out, there are few guys that makes sense with and even the ones who it does can be banished in less salary-cap damaging ways. However if we’re going to bring back a fourth line of Zemgus Girgensons, Johan Larsson and Kyle Okposo you minus well just build a wall that says “Stay in Rochester” on it. Guys like Arttu Routsalainen, CJ Smith, Rasmus Asplund and even Victor Olofsson may be staring at the wall wondering if they have any position to gun for. And I’ll be very honest up front: I have no clue what the plan is with Tage Thompson. I’m more patient than the average joe with a guy like that but it’s just too crowded in the forward group. We probably just need to suck it up and ride out Okposo’s albatross of a Tim Murray contract, but those other two guys on the likely fourth line would’ve been very sensible departures given how long they’ve been given second chances. They each brought something to last season’s team but I’m not sure I don’t want their spots taken by the young guns anymore. I suppose there is still time for those young guns to take their spots. It is a new coach after all. As mentioned earlier Krueger wants to have each of these guys fight for the spot of their choosing. Is Zemgus Girgensons better than all of Thompson, Andrew Oglevie and Matej Pekar? Strong maybe I guess? What about Johan Larsson: is he better than all of CJ Smith, Arttu Routsalainen, Rasmus Asplund and Dylan Cozens? Two of those guys are likely sent to their junior teams once camp ends but Smith was an AHL All-Star last year. Competition in the bottom six, at least the fourth line, should be very interesting.

The biggest questions in the forward corps is who will be the second line center and who will be the first line right wing? Both questions have obvious answers that are not necessarily the only options. A top line of Jeff Skinner, Jack Eichel and Sam Reinhart is very on brand for this club but if you use Reinhart at second line right wing you give Casey Mittelstadt some help shoring up that second line center role. Sheary could play on his off-side if it meant tapping in Eichel apples. If Victor Olofsson does indeed arrive as this top six player we’re all expecting, and you put him at 2LW you got a promising second line and a very interesting potential third line of Jimmy Vesey, Evan Rodrigues and Marcus Johansson. Yeah, I opt for the more experienced 28-year-old Johansson to play his off-side because I think he can do it fine on the third line and our good friend E-Rod may be fantastic at center if we give that an extended look. Now you may look at that summation of the top three lines as a pretty upbeat projection outside of the bitching about the fourth line. Where’s the difficulty in this discussion of the offense? Click, Click! In rolls every Sabres fan’s lineup projection grenade Vladimir Sobotka! NHL.com says he’s from the Czech Republic but anyone who watched last season’s Sabres knows he hails from the Kremlin. Wherever Putin hides the illegal chemical weapons, that’s where Sobotka is from because he stinks on ice! He’s not off the roster yet and that alone throws a wrench in the most fun version of the Sabres we could get out of Training Camp. Thompson and Sobotka are the guys that make the most fun version of the forward lines look unlikely but hey… Thompson could surprise me? I know, I wrote that full of doubt. Joking aside, he could be a late bloomer even though he didn’t exactly shine after getting sent down to the Amerks last season. Hmm, we really do have a lot to figure out during Training Camp, don’t we?

So what did I miss… Risto came to Training Camp after he definitely asked for a trade but why would he say that on media day? Eichel wants to score more goals, of course sweet boy. Marcus Johansson thinks Ralph Krueger is *pause for comedic effect* not your average Coach. Kyle Olsen was a Prospect Camp invite who earned an invitation to Sabres Training Camp. He’s probably the darkest of dark horses to make the roster. Uh… I think that’s it for now. When we wrap up Training Camp we’re going to tie all these loose threads together and preview the regular season. Between now and then however we have six preseason games to see how some of the questions get answered. Note: Six is fewer games than last year’s seven thankfully. If you weren’t reading the blog last year those games will be a taste of what the regular season is like here. Game action is much more fun and has a lot more opportunity for humor. Even though they’re meaningless in the standings I hope you’ll read, like and comment for the fun of it. It’s a sprint to regular season hockey from here!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. So it looks like Mitch Marner is going to pull a Will Nylander and miss Training Camp. The drama is better this time around for us Leafs Haters because for some reason Marner is personally offended by an $11 Million contract offer because it’s not as big as Auston Matthews’. Better more he’s much more likely to get traded than Nylander. I’m giddy for that Toronto Meltdown!

[thisdaynews]

Behind Trump’s 2020 fight: Women trying to rescue an underwater president

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/behind-trumps-2020-fight-women-trying-to-rescue-an-underwater-president/

Behind Trump’s 2020 fight: Women trying to rescue an underwater president

Supporters cheer on President Donald Trump during a rally in North Carolina. | Carolyn Kaster/AP Photo

Gone are the days of the Trump campaign’s boys club.

In the three years since a team of mostly male media executives, policy advisers and fringe political consultants successfully guided the businessman from Manhattan to the White House, his campaign has undergone a dramatic transformation leaving it more organized, more engaged and more female-forward than before.

Apart from conservative pollster Kellyanne Conway, whom Trump tapped to lead his campaign in August 2016, the only other women in senior roles were communications director Hope Hicks and his daughter-turned-political-adviser, Ivanka Trump. Campaign manager Brad Parscale holds Conway’s old job this time around, but he’s surrounded by more than a dozen women involved at the highest levels of the president’s 2020 campaign — from senior advisers and his national press secretary to the director of coalitions and the head of operations.

The strategy behind Trump’s sizable female staff is simple: optimize the campaign’s outreach to suburban women — an enormously important voting bloc — by having women oversee the outreach themselves.

“It’s a huge advantage having women on the campaign and women in all stages of life,” said Kayleigh McEnany, national press secretary for Trump’s 2020 operation and one of two senior campaign officials due to give birth to their first child in the next month. “We help bring a varied perspective to the issues in terms of what we prioritize and what the campaign’s general messaging should look like.”

At this stage in the campaign cycle, it may be difficult to see how adding more female staff has been advantageous for Trump — particularly when it comes to courting women who defected from the GOP in 2018.

Recent polling has shown the president’s approval rating as underwater with most female subgroups, among whom support for impeachment has simultaneously increased. For example, 65 percent of suburban women said they disapproved of Trump’s job performance in a recent Fox News poll, along with a slight majority of non-college educated white women — a demographic he captured with 61 percent support in 2016. A separate survey by the Public Religion Research Institute showed an 11-point increase since mid-September in support for impeachment among white women without college degrees.

It’s also unclear what the women of the Trump campaign see as the primary cause for the president’s woes with female voters. Asked why their candidate isn’t clicking with suburban women, McEnany said she didn’t “buy the narrative that suburban women … aren’t supporting the president,” while coalitions director Hannah Castillo blamed negative media coverage for preventing Trump’s message from “penetrating” the right communities.

“That’s a great question,” responded another female campaign official, who then pivoted to claim that women voters are uncomfortable “now that socialism has become a common word in the Democratic party.”

A year out from election day, 13 out of the 26 senior staffers on the Trump 2020 campaign team are women. The campaign says the advantage of having so many women in senior positions is three-fold. For starters, they claim staffers like senior adviser Mercy Schlapp, a former White House official and mother of five, and Lara Trump, the president’s outspoken daughter-in-law and a mother of three, are able to connect more easily with women voters in key battleground states than their male counterparts.

McEnany, who recently participated in a “Women for Trump” event in St. Paul, Minn., said she makes a point of talking to as many women as she can each time she attends one of the president’s campaign rallies.

“And I can’t tell you how many times they nod their heads when I ask, ‘Do you know of women in your neighborhood that privately support this president?’” she said.

Secondly, as one former campaign official put it, “it becomes harder for Democrats to paint President Trump as a giant misogynist if his own campaign is majority women.” The president faces accusations of sexual misconduct from more than a dozen women, and was infamously caught bragging about kissing and groping women on the “Access Hollywood” tape released weeks before the 2016 election.

Top women of his campaign say he’s “very respectful” and easy to humanize when they are out on the trail acting as surrogates.

“I know it is the president who seeks the opinion of top women advisers, and who is very respectful to the team of women he works with,” Schlapp said in an interview. “He relies on his women advisers to provide him counsel and that is something I always like to share whenever I go across the country to talk about the president and how he is as a leader.”

Finally, Schlapp and her female colleagues said they have also helped shape the campaign’s messaging to ensure the top concerns of female voters are addressed. During appearances in Florida, the topic of school choice — which proved to be a key issue in last year’s gubernatorial race — has been weaved into the president’s campaign speeches at the urging of his female advisers. Elsewhere, he has talked up economic gains for women, and focused on his administration’s efforts to lower health care costs, develop nationwide paid family leave and make child care more affordable.

“We’re part of the top-level strategic consulting in this campaign and we’re obviously looking at what the kitchen table issues are that would impact suburban women,” Schlapp said.

Whether or not it’s because of the women on his campaign, Trump has seen female engagement increase in one area that could be indicative of support that hasn’t been captured in recent polling. As POLITICO previously reported, the percentage of campaign contributions coming from female donors increased from roughly a quarter in 2016 to nearly 50 percent during the first three months of this year.

Data compiled by OpenSecrets also found that 46 percent of Trump’s donors were women in the second quarter of 2019, a higher percentage than three of the top four Democratic presidential hopefuls (40 percent of Joe Biden’s donors were female, followed by 39 percent of Bernie Sanders’ and 36 percent of Pete Buttigieg’s). Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren was the only top-tier candidate whose breakdown of donors included a greater percentage of women than did Trump’s.

Internally, the atmosphere of the Trump campaign has also changed to accommodate its growing number of female staffers. Long nights in a makeshift headquarters at Trump Tower have been replaced with flexible hours from the campaign’s top-dollar Virginia base camp — or from home, depending on individual staffers’ needs. Pre-debate visits to Las Vegas strip clubs have been replaced with daily strategy sessions, where the campaign’s female advisers have a seat at the table.

“They don’t even bat an eye when I say I need to go to my prenatal appointment in Tampa every week,” said McEnany, adding that the campaign has “been so supportive” of her decision to work remotely from Florida once she’s given birth.

“I’m from a Mexican-American family, I’m 39 weeks pregnant, 28 years old and I have a senior role on this campaign. I’ve never felt more empowered,” added Castillo, the campaign’s director of coalitions.

Ironically, the one area where these women said they won’t feel the need to guide the president’s strategy is if he finds himself facing off against a female opponent in the general election — a scenario that has become increasingly likely in recent weeks, amid Warren’s rise to the front of the Democratic primary pack in national polls.

“Common sense and logic will win at the end of the day,” Schlapp responded, when asked about a 2020 contest featuring Trump vs. Warren.

Noting that Trump “ran against a woman already” when he defeated Hillary Clinton in 2016, Castillo said “he hits back just as hard when people hit him and it doesn’t matter if you’re a man, a woman, black or brown.”

“We don’t just look at gender,” she said.

Read More

[sadisticsmiles]

Beyond a Thief’s Power Episode 18

Near but Far from Sight and Tangibility

  Four Months Later

~August 25, 2007~

           Inside an edifice at the top floor, there was an office for the chairman of the company. The lights were off, but the glow of the other companies and shops were illuminating its time of night. Said chairman was sitting in his special seat, staring outside the enormous glass window in front of him. A man with obsidian black hair and flint eyes sighed with irritation in his voice; the suit he wore was vertical striped soot in color with an amber tie over a white dress shirt; he wore charcoal gray socks and metal black dress shoes with thin, rust brown shoe laces. His hair was down, so he had a full set of bangs long enough to cover a portion of his eyes and the sides of his face, making him quite attractive for his appearance which did not have facial hair. His hands were overlapped/clasped superior to his thighs, and he was certainly not in a good mood that night. His eyes narrowed and his contemn gave him the will to speak.

           "Almost everything I've attempted so far has failed," the man muttered. "Many of my men have been captured and killed this year. Only a few of them, including myself remain. I was also unable to get to Sayuri Mitsuyoshi because of these diversions, yet I haven't a clue as to how my plans have been declining from success. Who on Earth is putting a stop to them? I need to find out soon. Her existence depends on the downfall of the owner of this sword at all costs, as well as the rest of the Black Foxes and my daughter-in-law. Or, should I say: daughters-in-law? Thus, the balance of Neon will fall and the only the world of Humans shall remain." He gazed down toward his left arm and a familiar long sword manifested out of nowhere like magic. A sword with a hilt with the shape of the number three, and its beauty displayed quite a few shades of brown. It wasn't every day that very color was known to be gorgeous and attractive in more than one way, but the sword alone was proof of a foreign aesthetic. A devilish smirk spread onto his exquisite visage. "Hehehe... Now, what should I use you for next? I've already altered this world to how I see fit. Everything and everyone that've been erased were quite... inferior to me, should I say? Yet the result of my actions and desires have been foiled by someone I don't know. It could be a group of fighters rather than a single person, but it doesn't matter as long as I can satisfy her. Hahaha. Ahahaha!!"

           The maniacal laughter that escaped from the man's mouth evidently represented his evil-minded plans and way of thinking, yet there was a striking tone to it. It may have sounded familiar and nostalgic, as if it had been inherited by someone. Could there have been someone like him—someone who resembled and was like an attractive man like he was, despite his age? Perhaps so, but who could possibly share this insane (?) man's characteristics?

           ... How frustrating it must have been to be almost a perfect copy of someone. Howbeit it was did not matter. After all, the next thing the man knew, a male voice spoke to him from the sword.

           You may have used my powers to rewrite this world into its current form, but you won't get away with what you've done. She'll suffer even if you try to destroy what's left of the world you were born in. The greed and obsession you have for her salvation isn't going to help her live any further than the time she has left. Your own feelings towards her will only supply her with surviving in the universe until her last moments. Don't you know that, you foolish man? In the end, you'll just go through a pain worse than... No. I don't need to say it when you've already become the person you are today. You'll be the one to lose against fate, anyway. It's ironic how even her father lost to it. And her mother went through the same thing many, many years ago in spite of the curse placed on the magicians. Don't get your hopes up. You've already lost the match.

           "..." The obsidian-haired man stayed silent for a few seconds before his sinister grin reappeared and bared his fangs and teeth. "Hehhh... Now I see. You're full of words and determination, but you don't have the strength to help the ones who are important to you. Well, well. It's too bad, Ains. You'll never see the day when you're reunited with your owner. Because... I'm your master now and you'll only listen to my will, whether you want to or not.

           No further answer came from the sword’s unseen spirit, so the night went on in silence from him.

           With a snap of the chairman’s fingers, he called out, “Hosugo, come to my office.”

           Shortly after a young man entered through the glass door. He appeared to be in his early twenties with a tall stature that matched Riki and Takuto’s heights, and had a neutral facial expression. He had raw umber hair reaching down to the center of his neck, a pair of light rectangular glasses, and iced tea-colored eyes. He wore a mahogany suit with a light salmon button-down shirt and royal purple tie which was tucked under the suit jacket, and dark brown dress shoes.

           “Yes, Sir,” the young man named Hosugo said. “What would you like me to do for you?”

           The obsidian-haired man turned around in his rolling chair with a stern gaze at his subordinate. “Find out who’s been putting my plans out. We’re falling behind in gaining control.”

           Hosugo gave a light bow with his head. “As you wish.” He walked out once his obedience was stated.

  Meanwhile, in Seoul, South Korea

             A man wearing a black helmet, and a full set of black clothes that were pretty light to wear—a zipped up jacket, undershirt, trousers [but no belt], gloves, and ankle boots with thick heels, sped through the city on a motorcycle of the same color as his outfit. On the back of the motorcycle, a trunk was attached—the type that was specifically added for food deliveries. It was also completely black, but was no doubt durable for the fast pace that blurred the shining city’s lighted surroundings. The intriguing quality to it was that it was shaped in the form of a loaded, medium-sized backpack.

           Soon—and very soon it was, the tall motorcyclist reached his destination. He parked the vehicle he rode in the back of a recording studio, which had an empty lot. It made him the only person to have any transportation there, but it did not bother him. He got off the seat and took off his helmet, showing his light tortilla brown eyes and his long cedar hair [which was slightly messy around the top but reached down to his shoulders neatly]. He hung the helmet around the motorcycle hand facing his left and walked toward the back where the backpack was. After picking the food container up and wearing it over his shoulders, he went to the backdoor, took out a silver key, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind him; he made sure to lock it before heading to the recording area.

           The young man was in front of a midnight black door with a clear yet ambiguous framed center resembling a mirror glass. On the top of the glass were the words: Recording Area. Straightforward for where he was going. He opened the bronze doorknob that was on the left and walked in. Claire Fioré, the members of Multi-Star Clover, and the other magicians that made up the Hidden Resistance were there.

           “Yo,” Claire greeted. “You’re finally here. With our food, nonetheless.”

           Elizabeth smiled warmly. “We’ve been looking forward to eating together, Kenshi.”

           Kenshi grinned. “Thanks for the welcome, guys.” Without turning around, he gently pushed the door behind him with his right hand. He removed the backpack and placed it on the table, carefully taking out a plastic bag full of canned and bottled beverages first, then the take-out food which was in a large plastic bag which also contained chopsticks and plastic spoons. There were only five white plastic bowls of noodles in account for the Special Humans and Kenshi, as he set them down in front of the people who were about to eat dinner that night.

           “Man, jajangmyeon is superb as always when we’re in South Korea!” Claire exclaimed. “Accompanying everyone else is nice, rather than doing activities and jobs as a celebrity! I don’t miss the time I was one as long as there’s great service!”

           Kokoro glanced at the resistance leader from her right. She was two seats away from him since Elizabeth was sitting between them. “Mou, you’re living an easier life than people give you credit for with the Ministry of Finance in Japan gone, Claire.”

           “Ehehe,” the fiery orange-haired man laughed. “I guess my work load has slightly dropped since then, but we were still aiding the black Foxes from behind the scenes.”

           Kuruha breathed. She was sitting next to Kokoro, on the latter’s left side. “I’d say so myself about you. Even now, we’re still helping them out, but only Kenshi knows about us.”

           “It’s better that way,” Aaron replied. “If they knew, we’d be slowed down and wouldn’t be as efficient in dealing with the 14K.” He folded his arms against his chest. The suit he wore was a reminder of his former occupation as a government official. “Plus, Nao doesn’t either. If the 14K were to find out of her whereabouts, it’d be catastrophic. Mitsuki-senpai, Riki, and the rest of their alliance would also be in more danger than before—most likely captured quickly. Don’t forget about the fact Sayuri and Takuji would be given away as well.” He crossed his right thigh over his left one and tapped the floor with the tip of his black boot [that he wore on his right foot].

           Elizabeth giggled at the sound the teal-haired magician made. “You’re the most professional member of our team, Aaron. At the same time, it makes you adorable.”

           Aaron’s light green eyes shot a menacing look towards the leader of Multi-Star Clover. “Always the playful one here, you are. I should experiment on abandoning you for a while.”

           “Hey, now,” Kenshi smiled at Aaron, who was sitting a few seats ahead, away on his right. “Let’s not joke about these things when there’s so much to do. I admit we shouldn’t tell the rest of the Black Foxes and the whole alliance about us to prevent them from getting into immediate danger. We’re all trying to put in more than out best effort, after all.”

           Aikishi glanced at the sniper of the Black Foxes next to him with serene eyes. “That’s correct. We all have our parts in helping everyone.” He turned around and took a big marble tray with a white teapot which had a sparkling golden leaf design all over, and several matching teacups, using his hands. Then, he turned around once more. “Although humans have their own drinks, I should serve the magicians here with Neon’s honey and lime tea.”

           Kenshi kept smiling. “The ingredients are wonderful. You guys have plants that make the gemstone versions of many things.”

           His eyes narrowed as he entered his thoughts and watched the male co-manager of the girls’ group go around the area. I wonder if Mom is doing alright without me. I kind of miss her hot tea, but I have the Hidden Resistance with me now. I shouldn’t complain about these things.

           Kuruha glanced at Kenshi while stirring her noodles. “…”

           Meanwhile, Manjuki sat down next to Kenshi. She had a plate of Neon’s tamagoyaki and croquettes surrounding a bowl of plain ramen. Glancing at the human male on her right, she smiled faintly in her normal manner. “If you don’t mind, Kenshi, you could eat some of my food, but not the ramen.”

           Kenshi sweat-dropped. “So just the smaller dishes you have with you…”

           “Of course,” the purpureus-haired magician answered. A set of power white chopsticks appeared in the air near her bowl and she took them in her right hand.

           The cedar-haired man could not help but enjoy the sight. He finally took his seat and looked at the older woman in front of him. “…Just plain ramen without anything else in it is like you, Manjuki. All these years haven’t changed your tastes, and magicians have never eaten spicy food.”

           “You certainly know how to pull a dull joke on me,” Manjuki replied while meeting Kenshi’s gaze with her own. “It’s obvious we can’t for our bodies’ sakes, yet you point out our flaws.” Using her chopsticks, she picked up one of the croquettes and placed it on a small white plate that suddenly appeared on the left of Kenshi’s jajangmyeon bowl. Afterward came a roll of tamagoyaki.

           Kenshi looked at the small dish he had. “Thanks.”

           No reply came back from Manjuki as she ate in silence with Kenshi doing the same thing. The cedar-haired former firefighter continued in his mind.

           It really feels like we’re back to the old days when Manjuki was around. She didn’t interact much, but she was with us for some time before she became busier with work. At the same time, she exuded an aura like an older sister figure to Takuto, Hiro, and myself included. Perhaps it’s because she’s older than us, but I adore that about her. It was rare to have someone who gave even a tiny bit of encouragement by her presence alone, so being with her puts me at ease.

           Minagi ate her bread with a golden jam on it in silence and the other HR members gazed at Manjuki and Kenshi. Futaba and Aaron had tea together, while Elise and Aikishi were eating some sliced fruit (aka gemstones) from their world with silver forks.

  XXX

             It was also nighttime in Ginza and the group in Le Renard Noir were inside as usual. Hiro was standing in front of the room that Kenshi and Takuto used to reside in. Ever since the dawn in which the Human World changed, Takuto had moved over the room that was to the left of where this one was [from where Hiro was facing]. Hiro then closed his eyes and placed his right palm on the door. His head lowered a bit and he made a prayer.

           Please, he thought. Kenny, wherever you are… Please be safe. The last for months without you were my regret—my secret regret.

           He opened his eyes with wavering emotion.

           The women in our group and the rest of the alliance trust that you’re alright, but… I miss you, you know. I really do.

           Ibuki stepped toward Hiro with a calm smile. “Hiro, you’re diligent as ever for Kenshi’s sake. However, it’s still my room now, so I hope Sayuri doesn’t get jealous over this. A guy with a girlfriend shouldn’t do such a misleading thing, after all.” She let out a giggle. “Ehehe. I’m quite happy I get to live with you all, but I do wish Kenshi were here with us.”

  ~April 13th at 10:43 p.m.~

             Inside the Yanase mansion, Ibuki was standing near her bed. Her health had been much better that year and she was finally a high school student. Due to her past circumstances, she could not attend school; thus, she was homeschooled her whole life until then. The academy’s principal knew of Ibuki’s life so far, and was able to arrange for an exception in enrolling her. It felt as though miracles had been brought forth for her with ridding her body of illness and her main wish of going to school granted. It would also be a matter of time before Riki would ask about any love interests in her life.

           She smiled contently and let out a giggle at the thought of her older brother of ten years being even more overprotective of her. Their father was not around to check on them anymore, but it could not be helped for Ibuki to be lonelier than Riki. She only had their maid Kikuno with her for everything she needed. Then, her pink flip phone rang and the caller ID on it was her brother’s name. She instantly picked it up and opened it to answer.

           “Riki, what is it?” she inquired. “It’s late at night for you to call me.”

           Riki let out a long sigh on the other end. His eyes narrowed in a melancholic fashion to go with the simultaneous frown on his visage. “Ibuki… I know this is going to be tough for you to hear, but Kenshi’s missing from our group.”

           Ibuki’s innocent eyes widened with confusion overpowering her surprise. “…What?”

           “Sorry,” her big brother apologized. “It’s been a few days, but he’s not with us. I’ve… failed to look after him properly.” His shoulders fell in sorrow. “I was wondering if you could keep everyone else and I company, especially when it’s only you and Kikuno in the mansion. That way, it’d be easier for you to go to school with me taking you there everyday. I’m not the best person there is in the world, but what do you want to do?”

           Ibuki felt a budding growth within her—the loneliness she felt would be erased and she was given the opportunity to be with her older brother, Mitsuki, and the others who were currently in Le Renard Noir. She could finally have a family again after her hardships she endured.

           Without any hesitation, she closed her eyes, smiled, and nodded. “Yes! I’d be glad to go with you, Onii-chan!”

           The overflowing sensation in her entire body would not dissipate that night. She packed as much as she could and Riki picked her up in his car right after she was done. He had taken her to Le Renard Noir and she was welcomed without any objections.

             Back in the present, Ibuki’s smile did not falter. She was still jubilant to live with the guys.

           Hiro turned towards her, and laughed awkwardly. “Haha… You know how it is, Ibuki. I’m hoping for Kenny to return to our side by Christmas, if not soon! He used to stink up the room when he was here, but he’s a hilarious butt monkey to us.” He closed his eyes and placed his right index finger on his cheek. “Anyhow, Sayuri knows how I feel in regards to Kenny’s disappearance, so she’s completely fine with my daily routine of being here.”

           “Hahaha!” Riki’s younger sister laughed. “You’re funny, Hiro. Though, I’m positive it’s because you’re worried about him. Aside from you, there’s Riki, who cares for you all. Kenshi wouldn’t think poorly of you and the others for anything that’s happened. Knowing him, that is. But to think you used to be such a playboy back then makes it strange for you to date a young lady…”

           Hiro sighed. “I’m not that type of guy anymore.” He placed his hand over his heart. “Sayuri’s my true love!” Then, he gazed at the seventeen-year-old girl in awe. “Ibuki, you really know how to read people.” He gave her a smile. “Riki’s raised you well.”

           “Geez, Hiro!” Ibuki pouted. “I’m not a little girl anymore!”

           “Well, you’re still in high school, so you’re underaged,” Hiro jested. “You haven’t matured much, you know!”

           In her offended state, Ibuki went on with conversing with Hiro. The childhood friendship they had brought them into a teasing sibling relationship. Being roommates in Le Renard Noir was a nostalgic experience for them, and the group downstairs felt the same way.

           Rina glanced at Riki and smiled tenderly. “Ibuki certainly loves Riki and the rest of us.”

           “I can guarantee her love for him isn’t as strong as it used to be,” Takuto scoffed. “He may be her older brother, but there’s someone manlier than Riki in our group.”

           Takuto’s words struck a nerve with the former government official, who was now an LRN employee along with Hiro. Before Riki could argue, Atsumu chimed in.

           “Oh?” the bar owner said with interest, appearing from the kitchen. He had shaved his beard off on the thirteenth of April after everyone had finished their celebration for Taiga and Nao’s upcoming wedding. That very change attracted more customers, especially the ladies who came by, with his youthful looks. “Are you talking about me, Takkun? I’m flattered such a young lady would express any interest in my refined qualities.”

           Riki was instantaneously irate at that point. “As if I’d ever let Ibuki date someone over half her age! You’re not her type, Boss.”

           Takuto was repulsed but indifferent. “Ew, you’re disgusting even without the beard.” He exhaled afterward. “Can we call the police on his pedophilic tendencies?”

           Atsumu smiled drolly. “Relax, men. I’m only kidding. I have no true interest in any of the women here.”

           “So you like men,” Takuto remarked quickly.

           “Of course not!” the bar owner protested. “You’re making fun of me as always, Takkun. Nothing’s changed about you after all this time, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t twist things out of proportion.”

           “No frickin’ way,” the light blond replied. A smirk abruptly spread onto his visage. “That’d be no fun if I started to quit!”

           Rina glanced at her ex-boyfriend. “Takuto, don’t be so harsh towards Boss.”

           “Fine,” Takuto compromised. He turned his head towards his best friend. “There’s a replacement for Beardless right here.” His smirk came back as soon as he finished his sentence. “Looks like Hiro was right about you being a siscon, Riki. He’s as accurate about people as always, so don’t try to deny it.”

           Riki’s firm frown indicated his annoyance. “There’s no possibility of me being one, you dolt. I’m a perfectly normal older brother to Ibuki.”

           “Someone who loves his blood-related younger sister so much and is always butting into her business has no right to say they aren’t,” the light blond retorted, aloof as ever.

           “You little…” Riki’s eyebrows furrowed before he trailed off. “…It’s no use trying to argue with you, is it?”

           “Glad you understand,” Takuto said. He opened his laptop, which had been on the table he was sitting at. “After my last one was destroyed by Sayuri, this spare one from home has become durable with the information I need. Takuji told us we didn’t need to do anything, but who knows when we’ll be needed again after these past few months?”

           Riki gazed at Takuto, amazed at the programmer’s resolve. “Takuto…”

           Without moving his eyes away from his electronic device, Takuto asked, “What?”

           “Thanks,” the black-haired LRN employee said. “For not giving up.”

           “…” Takuto’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever. You may not be as leader-like as you were before, but it doesn’t mean you should just stop after hearing the orders to take a rest. However, you’ve at least become less workaholic.”

           It can’t be that simple for us to let whoever’s with Kenny to do everything, he thought. I can’t let my guard down in case something ends up happening. I’ve got to take another scan for any updates.

           Rina’s gaze on Takuto had not moved away for a while. Her eyes were filled with concern for her former lover’s determination.

           Takuto… she called out in her mind.

           Suddenly, an intense pain shot through her heart. She placed both her hands over her left breast and her facial expression displayed the agony she was enduring. She opened her eyes to see Takuto’s back once more.

           I need to go home before I end up worrying everyone, she noted to herself.

           Rina vanished and teleported back to the Tokuhara residence in Neon, collapsing on the floor in her room. On the other side in Le Renard Noir, Riki’s eyes widened. He had just seen Rina having a hard time staying in the Human World. Atsumu shot him a glance and shook his head.

           Not a word to Takkun, understand? Atsumu’s eyes were conveying the words he wanted to say aloud.

           Riki nodded, making sure not to disturb and catch the programmer’s attention. Gotcha. Rina doesn’t want to worry him, too.

           The wavy-haired brunet smiled. Shortly afterward, Mitsuki came in to check on the guys after folding the laundry in the room she shared with her husband. She smiled at the sight of the guys on the first floor. While there had been some tension before she came in, there was currently a sense of tranquility. She walked up to Riki and hugged him from behind, causing him to turn around from his right side and smile at her. Takuto was still going through the data stored within his laptop while Atsumu entered the kitchen to fetch some water for the others, excluding Mitsuki.

  XXX

             Ikebukuro was once a city that had people living in it. The people who had resided in it had panicked on April 13th after a news report had told of the new changes to the Human World, and fled to other cities or towns within Japan; some had taken flights to the other countries that were still in existence. People worldwide were shocked, astonished, frightened, and so on of what had happened. Billions of people, many countries, most of the continents, the seas were erased and the world had become smaller with only one sea in place of the previous ones. In truth, a couple of magicians were residing it the ghost city that used to be full of people. Furthermore, Sayuri was with the couple who had a shrine up ahead, staying in the family temple that existed after the Human World’s changes. The room the three of them were in was of course, a tradition Japanese one.

           A young woman with long, knee-length parakeet green hair and mauve eyes smiled pleasantly while standing. She wore a plain white kimono. “Sayuri,” she began, “how are you holding up?”

           “I’m fine,” the orange-haired magician responded. “It can’t be helped to stay in hiding with the 14K still acting up these days.”

           The woman lightly frowned. “Indeed. Finding Ains is a difficult task for you to partake in without the likelihood of encountering his immense power and placing yourself in danger.”

           Sayuri looked down. “We shouldn’t rely too much on Nao-san to aid us. Her powers alone aren’t enough for us to take on Roxanne Feris and her most trusted subordinate. The other members of the 14K are attempting to regain their former glory, but to take them down constantly is tiresome.”

           A young man with blood red hair and myrtle green eyes nodded. He was stoic and did not show any signs of altering his facial expression. He wore a black kimono with a smoke gray swirling pattern where his left shoulder and upper left portion of his torso, along with nearly half the corresponding sleeve. “The Human World drains our powers, but at least Ikebukuro has become a place where we can recover more than the spring you lured the Black Foxes to. The orbs gave some temporary means of healing Rina and now, Mitsuki-san. Nao-san’s connection as one of the third generation Great Family members to Kousuke and Asuka is merely someone who’s been around to take them outside the palace. Living without their parents around can be stifling to the blood descendants of the royal family; Haonowa-sama and Minato-sama don’t flaunt sentiments around so easily. Maintaining order is what a member of the Great Families should do. Rina’s a despicable exception, but not as traitorous as Mitsuki-san is. To abandon the duties and put a dent in dishonoring Neon is one of the worst things to do.”

           The magician with parakeet green hair glanced to her left without so much a movement of her head, but still had her smile. “Kei, some things have changed since Rina’s trial. You know that as well as the other magicians.”

           “She may be our family, but I don’t forgive her for being free to do as she likes,” Kei asserted his hatred of Rina. “She’s your cousin, but also my cousin-in-law.” He exhaled—it was a sigh, yet he was completely neutral. “I’m not soft like our king and Takuji. Kousuke’s too kind for his own good that Asuka is also nice to a fault.”

           The young woman replied, “It’s alright. Without Kousuke’s intervention, Rina’s existence wouldn’t be here now. The Great Families have a balance in Neon because heirs to the households must be alive. I don’t count as the head of the Tokuhara family since we’ve been split between two different main surnames from the start because of Shizune-san and Hajime-san.”

           Kei placed both his hands on his hips. “I suppose I shouldn’t put too much blame on Rina, but she’s still a lawbreaker, Io.”

           Sayuri gazed at the couple she was with and her eyes had a yearning look in them. “It’d be nice if you were more honest towards Rina, Kei. We all used to hang out together—you, Io, Takuji, Miyuki, Rina, and I. The six of us were together in high school, but we’ve all changed since then.” She paused before a small smile appeared on her face. “You and Io are a great couple, by the way.”

           Kei stared at his friend and said, “You’ve grown a bit softer too after your training and coming to the Human World, Sayuri. Must be thanks to your human boyfriend, whom you’re missing at the moment.”

           “Our objectives come before romance,” Sayuri answered; her smile had disappeared when she spoke. “I can’t let my feelings for Hiro overshadow our plans to stop Roxanne and her henchmen.”

           “Then, I’ll have to help with finding Ains,” the blood red-haired magician responded. “We shouldn’t rely so much on the previous generations of magicians to do more for us.”

           “Yes,” Io said with a stern facial expression. “It’s time to regain what’s been lost and end this long whirl of conflicts.”

           Sayuri’s eyes had an agreeing emotion as she entered her thoughts.

           Ains… Wherever you are, stay strong and don’t give hope. We’ll find you and take you back to Rina. I promise you that much.

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The Recovery Dramaturgy: Ilona Munro @ Edfringe 2017

Bright Productions 

The Recovery Version

Hogmanay in the Highlands.  Three generations of men.  Traditions, banter, song.  The whisky should probably stay in the cupboard. 

Out of Glencoe comes a lovingly, dysfunctional, all-male tale of lost dreams, long held hurts and father-son ties, told with a very Scottish voice and new songs.  The kind of songs sung at a New Year’s party.

The Recovery Version by Bright Productions

Venue:  Sweet Grassmarket (2)                       Tickets: £8 (£6)

Dates:   4th-20th August                                  Box Office:  0131 243 3596

Time: 13:40 (ends 15:00)                                  Venue website: www.sweetvenues.com

What was the inspiration for this performance?

I became a single parent when my kids were only age one and five.  I stayed single and worked full time for several years and during that time I fretted about my son having no good male role models.  Although we maintained what we could with his father, it was unfortunate that his grampa wasn't around ( though he has an amazing granny)  I needn't have worried, lots of male friends, family and teachers were in his life, as well as good women.   Alongside this is an ongoing joy of living in a Highland community (after time in London and Russia) and of the characters that make living here so good.  I was also often wondering about men, and where they were at in the Highlands.  Alcohol and lack of decent jobs with decent pay can take it's toll, but creativity, kindness and an incredible thing - split up families that still talk exist too - hec sometimes they even go their ex partners weddings! 

Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas? 

Absolutely!  Although Lochaber is 2000 sq miles, it doesn't have a dedicated arts centre or cinema, so performance has to be in village halls, schools and found spaces.  With the demise of promoters budgets and small scale touring it can be hard to access professional performance without going 200 miles round trip, but when professional companies come here, they are greatly appreciated.  Community, youth and school theatre are well attended.  We also find that it is a myth that young people need everything crash bang wallop now ( she says as her son who is now 14 plays his Xbox)  We have been part of many educational theatre projects and they can really reach out, where other projects can't.  EG our last tour of "Stigma" and "HomeBrew" resulted in self referrals to help ( we always work in partnerships)  Interestingly enough, it was a Lochaber Common Weel who hosted "Faslane".  This is a social-political group, not a promoter or venue, and they had new audience engaging because of Scottish issues in the content.

How did you become interested in making performance?

Cliche alert!  I loved theatre and ballet from totdom.  Went to wee Co-op drama clubs in manky crumbling halls in Perth.  For some reason I studied Russian at uni -but this then took me to Siberia where I saw children's drama in summer camps.  And the Kirov for £4.  I studied Drama for a year in London and the college were so supportive that they gave me £150 quid and said "go do Edinburgh" So I wrote a play in 1994 and did.  I carried on doing this.  As I neared my thirties I became Eden Court's Drama Worker in Lochaber - and that taught me so very much.  Then came writing commissions, and three years ago I set up Bright Productions ( alongside a not for profit group called Dramafish to support arts in Lochaber) and continued teaching, writing, directing, stapling, packing cars, pitching, scrabbling for cash....  We got into Luminate Festival and started working in Abbeyfield Care Home too.

Is there any particular approach to the making of the show?

Not a particular approach as such, but we are very keen on Generations Working Together projects.  Population is so tiny in the Highlands that it often makes sense to include all ages.  The Recovery Version has a young lad in it, so we have cast three teenagers, two girls and a boy ( my son!) alongside the professional adults.  We also have young men helping build the set with Graeme Martin, our set designer, and a few more interested in theatre process, street performance/marketing.  We will make opportunities for these young people to come to Edinburgh and experience the sheer wonderful, lively, bonkers thing that is the fringe.

We have also had development days and meals together to make sure that in advance of rehearsals ( which don't start til Monday 17th July - eek!) that we all start to feel a team bond.  Parents are included and are brilliantly supportive.  As I said, community is great here, as is Kinlochleven High School.  Add to this our two musicians from Ballachulish working on our sound and songs.  Working with Chaz Stewart (ex Guitarist with the Donnie Munro Band, and our Photographer) and Paul Hornby Battrick, is often a crucial part of our development.

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

I am not sure that we have a "usual" production.  Our performances often depend on who commissions us, or who wants to work in partnership with us.  That said, I guess there is always a rather Scottish heart to it all and since I have been living in Kinlochleven for nearly twenty years now, a specifically Highland one.  

It doesn't preclude us looking around the globe for inspiration - one of our favourite shows is about the Russian Revolution, and we are very interested in learning more puppetry.  We are also working on shows for cafes along the west coast railway line and on a loch boat.  I suppose we are quite Highland in outlook..."acht will see what happens, mibbes aye and mibbes naw!"  It's really about relationships and partnerships for us.  But The Recovery Version is just because we wanted to - and because I haven't taken a show to Edinburgh for 17 years.  Oh and humour, we love a good laugh.  Even in the serious issues.

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

Firstly, we simply hope folk enjoy it!  Above that, we hope that the audience will connect with the characters, and that they will recognise that build to Hogmanay, and the slide down the others side into the new year.  It would make our wee hearts sing if folk laughed and tapped their toes to the Hogmanay party.  I think we also feel that there is something to be said for men, about men, while a huge focus is currently on women.  Lastly, we would like the audience to come away going  "ocht that's great that theatre can come out a wee village near Glencoe"

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?

We did toy with having it interactive - ie the audience drank with us, ate cheesy pineapples on a stick with us, sang with us. They can sing, and we may have nibbles out, but in the end we felt it was about taking folks into that period after Christmas before the New Year, and we thought for this show that allowing the audience to sit back and enjoy and to choose whether they tap toes was best. It's the Highland way "acht whatever!" 

But we will be having mini Hogmanay parties on the Mile, and around Edinburgh, so folks can get wee treats and learn Gaelic singing (Hogmanay style) and be as interactive as they like. We will also be performing previews in Ballachulish Village Hall and The Ben Nevis Distillery, where we will have post show discussions, and this will inform any changes needed to improve things.

Jonny had a minor hit once, but no one would know.  Especially since those five homogenised wee bams have covered his song and made it a major Christmas hit.   John is Jonny’s son.  John blames his Dad a lot for his failing life.   And then there is Jack.  John’s wee lad who is suddenly coming to stay for New Year.  John hasn’t seen Jack for some time.  Just as well Fisher is around to keep spirits bright.  But then strong spirits were always the problem.

Although this is Bright Production’s first time at the fringe, writer/director Ilona Munro is well known in Lochaber for her highly varied theatre projects and thoughtful mental health TIE work across Highland.  Working with local professionals and up and coming young theatre makers, Bright has a great reputation in Lochaber for making people laugh and engaging the community in “generations working together” workshops and plays.

17 Hogmanays have passed since Ilona last took a show to the fringe. 

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