#WHITE DAY RKS MY BELOVED

[sweetearthandnorthernsky]

morinel for the alternate intros :D

morinel my beloved!

okay so most realistic is a variation on the helf intro, but i’m going to make it ✨different✨ because i can and also i feel like being mean.

so, you get a black screen, and the white text with: eregion, midwinter, 1697.

(listen—)

your character is in the Army that gil-galad ended up sending to help out, (not the one that is helped by numenor, just the elves of lindon, that hide in imladris) which ended up coming too late (but no one knows that yet).

the army is probably not *super* close to caras gelebren/ost-in-edhil, but close enough to see it burning in the distance.

the intro probably starts with you talking to A Friend before A Messenger tells you ‘hey, congrats, you got picked to go on this scouting mission, now go find morinel.’

when you find her, you note that she looks exhausted, like she hasn’t slept in several days probably but then neither have half the people in charge.

she tells you that she’s leading a little group to scope out the area before the whole rest of the army moves in, and she could use someone of your skill set. (+ bonus/special dialogue for champs&rks, probably)

she has you take a couple messages to a couple different people to Co-ordinate things probably (ft maybe elf politics) and to rest afterward. either the next day or several hours later, after you rest, it’s Time and you assemble at morinel’s lil tent.

you’re the first one there, which results in the the little combat tutorial. the dialogue is probably something to the effect of: hey, new person, you look nervous. want to deal with it by sparring?

once morinel is satisfied that you’re doing fine enough, she’s like. this is not going to be easy. it’s gonna suck. but we have to. slowly, the other people going with y’all filter in, and it’s time to head out.

a bit of a skip, you’re sorted into pairs, and, naturally, you’re paired with morinel and she tells you that the two of you have to be Real Careful ™ because eventually you’ll be going as close to the gates as you guys can.

you kill 0/8 orcs, and click the highlighted spots that are various “this path is not well guarded” “this area has lots of sentries” etc etc. yall end up getting REAL close to the gates.

then, ++++dread and morinel is like aw FUCK, and is like move/hide literally now or we’re SO doomed. (the two of you hide in a bush? in a tree? who knows, i don’t remember the hiding mechanics in game atm)

but just as you get out of sight—

BOOM!

the big gates open, and Mátshakha is striding out down the path (you don’t know this till much later, but she is very much on thin fucking ice with sauron rn). a bunch of orcs and high ranking banner guards following and you’re like oh okay. why were the refugees so—

and then there’s the banner :) made out of a whole elf :) which adds a lot more dread and then morinel is like we have to go NOW because we won’t be able to get out if we stay.

morinel debriefs you a bit, and you notice she’s real shaken but you don’t have much time to think about it.

this could cross fade to the present and end there and dump you out with bregolleth in swanfleet maybe OR segue into the Main Helf Intro in mordor, where morinel is either fulfilling a harthalín type role or just one of the npcs hanging out at the front of the alliance like cirdan, with maybe a quick little line of dialogue.

also. i am. unsure how much this actually follows the game lore of the fall of eregion/ost-in-edhil vs my own vs silm/HoME but. tis whatever. :)

[asset35-maya]

CALYPSO 🐚 ☕️

Part 1/3

Part 2/3:

“You call this shit an espresso machine?”

“I wouldn’t, but Fowler does. The department’s on a tight budget.”

“Hmmpff.”

Gavin watched Nines tinker with the cheap coffee maker in the break room. The whole thing was so absurd it felt like an out of body experience. He hadn’t had a partner in years and was now suddenly stuck with a military-grade android who bitterly resented every second spent by his side. It was also the first time he’d met someone as temperamental, as foul-mouthed and as coffee-loving as him.

Nines smacked the machine. It produced a pitiful whine and a stream of muddy brown liquid. Gavin cleared his throat.

“We should head to the scene now. Two victims in a warehouse. One human, one android. Battered beyond recognition. I’d go by myself but I need you to scan their identities for me.”

Nines turned around with disgust and something that looked a lot like fear written across his features.

“That sounds awful. Why would I want to come see such a thing?”

“It’s… your job…?”

“No. I’m not a detective. I’m a café owner. Markus and Connor might have forced me to sign a contract with the DPD but they can’t force me to do things I don’t want to.”

“And what am I supposed to do with an uncooperative partner?”

“That is not my problem.”

Gavin was stumped. He wasn’t used to people talking back to him, especially not civilians… not that Nines was really one any more.

“Come on, man. I don’t wanna tell on you. Let’s just make this work. Getting you in trouble is only gonna push you and all your fellow tincans into more hot water. Then you’d have lost your little café for nothing.”

Strangely, he found himself appealing to reason and logic. Nines’ aggressive demeanour was so similar to his own that Gavin had been forced to switch alignment entirely. His colleagues were pleasantly surprised by the change… though now there was a new rabid dog in the station they had to avoid angering.

“Fine. But tell me where exactly to scan. I don’t wanna be looking at those poor bastards any longer than I have to.

And don’t expect me to lick any blood like Connor the great. That’s fucking disgusting.”

“Of course.”

//

\\

“Oh god. Oh RA9. Oh my…”

Nines took a shaky sip of his blue latte and dropped the cup back onto its saucer. Ralph hovered anxiously above him.

“How on earth do you look at things like that everyday? You barely batted an eye. And they call us androids inhuman.”

“Fifteen years on the job will dull your senses.”

“When did you stop getting queasy?”

Gavin lifted his own cup to his lips, not answering until he finally got a taste of the specialty coffee Nines kept raving about. He sipped and sighed in satisfaction. Calypso was everything it was talked up by the press to be.

“Right after a triple homicide by this dude I went to school with. He grew up exactly the same way I did. He had a nice family, nice job. There was nothing wrong with him. He could have been me, I could have been him. But how did the universe decide who’d be the cop and who’d be the killer? No phcking clue. No rhyme or reason for the way things turned out. And that realisation chilled me to the phcking bone, dude. There’s things scarier than blood and guts and that’s the workings of our own minds.”

Nines considered that for a moment and shuddered. Ralph hastily walked away, muttering to himself.

“Ralph does not like these talks. Murders and killings and bloody, bloody things. It reminds Ralph of the old days.”

Gavin watched him retreat behind the store counter with a raised eyebrow.

“Where on earth did you find that specimen?”

“In a haunted house.”

Gavin blinked uncertainly, not sure if he was being serious. Nines barked a laugh.

“Both of us were living rough after the Revolution. He’d been squatting in different buildings since he deviated and I was one of the new units Connor brought onto the streets from Cyberlife Tower. Didn’t have any clothes on. Didn’t have anywhere to go. I just ducked into the first abandoned building I saw. Needless to say I got the scare of my life, just as the poster outside promised.”

Nines’ eyes flicked over fondly to Ralph. The WR600 was now dealing rather enthusiastically with a customer. Gavin followed Nines’ gaze, sipping the heavenly coffee while his perception of the world went through another sea change.

//

\\

“I’m proud of you, son. You didn’t want to join us at first but you went above and beyond for this mission.”

Captain Fowler pinned a medal of honour to the front of Nines’ dress uniform as the audience clapped. Nines inclined his head but remained expressionless. He glanced sideways and Gavin couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, scarcely noticing the matching medal that joined the other ribbons and distinguished service awards on his chest.

Connor and Markus were waiting for them as they got off the stage. Nines shoved past both of them, ignoring Markus’ outstretched hand and the camera flashes from the media.

Irony of ironies, Gavin felt the need to save face. He stopped to shake hands and pose for pictures with the leader of Jericho and new Mayor of Detroit.

“He’s served well. He’s done his part. When can he go back to his little café?”

Markus smiled wistfully.

“Securing Nines’ public service was not just a bargaining chip in passing the Android Equality bill, Detective. It was a key instrument.”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t just need to guarantee public safety from advanced androids, we need to recuperate the development costs. Cyberlife received countless government grants for RK R&D activities. I need to show tax payers that their money didn’t go down the drain.”

“What the hell kind of freedom is this?”

Markus dipped his head and Connor swiftly motioned for a journalist to join them.

//

\\

“Turn the car around! Turn the fuck around!”

“Okay okay! Hang on!”

Gavin was used to Nines’ temper but he was now seeing it accompanied by anxiety for the first time. His hands were splayed out across the dashboard and his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. The LED on his temple sparked red in between its rapid cycles of yellow.

Weaving expertly through the traffic, Gavin pulled up outside Calypso Café. Nines leapt out of the police car before it fully stopped.

Gavin saw the source of trouble instantly. Two burly men tossing chairs and kicking tables. A third was berating terrified patrons and a fourth jeered at Ralph, plucking at his apron and smacking his damaged cheek. Gavin knew that anti-android sentiment still simmered beneath the surface of their society, but it had been a while since he’d seen it rear its ugly head… and so violently at that.

Nines barged into his beloved café and bodily flung the men out. They flew through the air and hit the pavement as if they weighed nothing. Gavin watched with muted horror, realising why exactly anyone would want the government to keep an eye on the RK900.

There was a sickening crunch as Nines broke the nose of the man who’d been bullying Ralph. But it didn’t end there. He kicked him down the entrance steps and leapt onto the man’s torso, pummelling his brutish face into the concrete.

Gavin could barely hear himself yelling for Nines to stop above the cacophony of screams from the vicinity. Seconds flew by and spatters of blood turned into veritable rivulets running down the pavement.

Not daring to intervene physically, Gavin pulled out his service revolver.

“Nines, get off him! Nines, it’s not worth it! If you kill him, everything ends! Nines! Stop! I’ll shoot if you don’t let go! Don’t make me do this, man! Please!”

He counted down and cursed when Nines showed no indication of having heard him. He fired a warning shot. Then two more. And then he pointed his weapon directly at Nines.

One bullet to the android’s midsection.

A burst of blue.

A staticky cry of surprise.

And Nines dropped to the side.

The other aggressors scrambled to scrape their unconscious ringleader off the ground and hurried away. Gavin made no effort to stop them. He flipped Nines onto his back and looked into the angry blue eyes.

“Wipe all the security cameras on the street.”

“Already did.”

Ralph helped him carry Nines into the vandalised café. Gavin ripped open the stained shirt and felt up the chassis for the embedded bullet. He took the toolbox from Ralph and began to work, guided by a lifesaving instinct that somehow applied to androids too.

“I should have been there.”

“What?”

“Ralph. I should have been there with you. I’d have never let those bastards into the store. I’d have never let them put their hands on you.”

“Ralph is okay. Completely fine! There is no need to worry about Ralph. Ralph is worried about you. So much thirium…”

“This should have never happened. You were there for me when I didn’t even have a stitch of clothing on my chassis, but I abandoned you to run Calypso on your own. You could have gotten hurt badly today. I’m so sorry, Ralph.”

Gavin plucked the bullet out and began working to stem the flow of blue blood. His hands shook with empathetic rage, and Nines noticed.

//

\\

“I honestly think falling back on your core programming is the right thing to do. It’s the same thing as humans playing to their strengths. It doesn’t mean we’re still trapped by our software instructions. It doesn’t mean we’re not deviant. It just means that we’re choosing to do something we’re indisputably good at.”

Nines’ grip on his thirium beer was so tight that his knuckles had turned white. The synth skin was stretched to breaking point, exposing the plastic chassis beneath. Gavin swallowed uncomfortably. He found himself wishing that he was an android too and could telepathically ask Connor to shut the phck up.

As usual, he was the only one who noticed Nines’ tension. Hank and Fowler and all their other insensitive colleagues were nodding sagely at the bullshit the RK800 was spewing.

“I mean, sure, there’s plenty of androids who choose alternative career paths, but I think that’s just an unnecessary hill to climb. If you’re up for the challenge, go for it by all means, but why? It’s never made sense to me. I can’t imagine being anything other than a detective.”

Gavin’s eyes flitted between both ends of Hank’s backyard as if he were watching a tennis match. Connor continued to babble and Nines grip on his drink became increasingly vice-like.

Then there was a splintering sound.

A spray of blue beer.

A scatter of broken glass.

Time seemed to slow down as Nines pushed himself off the fence he was leaning on and made his way across the yard.

And then Gavin had a fleeting vision of Connor being tackled to the ground and having his jaw ripped off. He’d heard plenty about preconstructions but he’d never expected to have one himself as a human. Or was that just what they called a premonition?

Gavin moved quickly.

He actually ran.

He paid no heed to the irritated murmurs and cries of alarm.

He pushed a hapless colleague out of the way and inserted himself directly in Nines’ path…

deftly avoided the attempt to shove him aside…

wrapped his arms around Nines’ neck…

and kissed him.

//

Part 3/3

[sesshatetsuko]

Rurouni Kenshin Fanfiction : See you in life Beyond -Chapter 3-

Summary : For as long as he remembers, life had never been easy for him. So when carefully-buried memories are brutally awakened, the worst can happen… *A long canon post-Jinchuu story, including most of RK’s main characters, depicting how Kenshin tries to survive his inner demons, and how he and Kaoru finally became a family…*

Link for Chapter 1 : https://sesshatetsuko.tumblr.com/post/178514684317/rurouni-kenshin-fanfiction-see-you-in-life

Link for Chapter 2 : https://sesshatetsuko.tumblr.com/search/fanfiction%20chapter%202

Chapter 3: First glimmers of evil

It was one of spring's first sunny week in the new capital, after a fourth season which had proved to be labored that year. This morning, only the last sighs of winter's chills were still being felt, and the dew perched on budding leaves was sliding to the ground with the help of a slight wind.

Every inhabitant of the Kamiya dojo -including its brawler and its wanderer- was busy with its favorite task : Kenshin was doing the laundry, Kaoru was chasing her disciple through the yard, Yahiko was being chased by his assistant master, and Sanosuke aka the brawler was chewing obsolete remains of a fish carcass while waiting anxiously for mealtime.

"Phew ..."

The former Sekihotai let out a sigh, dusting his jacket with a lascivious gesture. His belly was clearly yelling famine.

"Hey Jou-chan, when ya're finished with the shoutin' match, could ya tell me if there's somethin' to eat 'round here?"

Sanosuke Sagara had the nasty habit of giving nicknames to most people who were hanging around him, as if calling someone by his first name suddenly risked causing him in an oh-so-fatal form of spontaneous combustion. So Kaoru was Jou-chan, Megumi was Kitsune, Saito had inherited of the wolf and Yahiko-CHAN was self-sufficient.

"Why you..."

Kaoru suddenly stopped her race to point a finger at the streetfigther.

"How dare you even speak of that?! Don't you know you can bring food and cook it by yourself like a grown man, instead of always complaining!? "

Her eyes spoke of hell's chasms and sulfurous vengeance. Sanosuke took a preventive step back, and Yahiko, glad that the attention was momentarily diverted from him, took this opportunity to move to a safe place – which happened to be in that case right behind Kenshin's back. He knew from experience that the situation could quickly deteriorate ...

"Maa maa do not argue," said the wanderer, pulling his hands out of the soapy water. "This one will take care of it as soon as he finishes the laundry, that he will."

Strangely enough, Himura was revealing in repetitive daily chores, as if to compensate for the chaos that had been his life so far. Except for a few intimate friends, most people who knew him back in the days of Bakumatsu did not understand that a former cold-blooded assassin, in this case a patriotic leader occupying a key position in the revolution, could be satisfied with such a routine.

A simple, normal family life... he has probably never known that before, thought Kaoru whose gaze softened at the sight of the samurai humbly hunched over the basin, sleeves rolled up, a patient smile on his face. The soapy bubbles were going up to his elbows and formed a frothy beard under the cheek where he had previously wiped his hand.

"I'm glad to know ya're the one making miso today, Kenshin," Sanosuke continued. "Haven't recovered yet from last time Jou-chan cooked and my guts literally tried to get out of my tummy!"

"What the hell..."

The young kendoka's eyes flashed instantly. Kenshin could have sworn he saw drool running down her chin.

"... I feed you for FREE and that's all you have to s-"

"Is tha' a reason for trying to poison me ?!" the accused rebuked, pointing at her too (yes, Sanosuke sometimes had suicidal tendencies).

"It's true that you aren't spoiled by nature busu ; as thin as a plate and unable to bake anything edible... "Yahiko rectified, feeling compelled to place a comment to calm the situation, always bravely sheltered behind the wanderer.

"A little respect for your master! RHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA "

Thus Kenshin -or rather his face- received a boken, two stools, five bowls, and three daikons. His defence resulted in :

"Orororororooooo ..."

"Kenshin, I'm so sorry!"

Kaoru realized too late that the red-collapsed form on the floor was innocent, and rushed to his side.

"Yare yare," said Kenshin, rubbing his head, "This one is fine, Kaoru-dono."

The samurai could have easily dodged each of her projectiles, even catching them flying and sending them back in one movement. The stool by the way, properly launched, could have made a nice whiplash injury ... But Kenshin was uncomfortable with showing his talents of former assassin, acquired in a context as painful as macabre, nor to use his incredible capacities in a harmless environment that did not require it. Note also that Kaoru was a proud master of kendo who did not deserve in the eyes of the wanderer to be humiliated or discouraged by such behavior. Above all, the mere idea that his beloved might one day be afraid of him or feel physically threatened, and therefore begin to act cautiously around him, was enough to make him feel nauseous.

As he got up, he did not fail to accidentally brush Kaoru's hand, whose face immediately went through six distinct shades of scarlet. The two lovers got up as quickly as possible, spending the next few minutes trying not to look clumsy.

A classic day, in other words.

A little too much maybe...

"...Excuse me?"

All heads turned towards the entrance gate of the dojo where a young man was standing, his black hair strictly brushed, dressed in a navy uniform trimmed with white at the ends of the sleeves. It was cut short at the level of legs, revealing sober satin shoes on which were mirroring perfectly the metal sheath of his saber.

"Can I help you?"

The mistress of the dojo approached the newcomer, who did politely salute in return.

"Agent Kyosuke, I wish to see Himura-san," he informed, "I have a letter from Officer Fujita to give him."

"If you look for him, this one is here," The wanderer instinctively took place between Kaoru and the stranger before greeting him quickly, taking the paper directly from his hands.

"So what does it say?  "asked Yahiko, who had instantly hurried to join the three adults.

"It's a letter from Saito..." Himura mumbled as he was decrypting the katakana lines. He did not answer more, focused on reading the document.

"Huh, that's all...? Don't keep the information for you!"

While the unique pupil of Kamiya Kasshin was starting the well-known dance of 'plz-tell-me-I-need-to-know' and Sanosuke was discreetly asking the postman if he did not have some money to lend him before realizing at the same time that he was instead a policeman, Kaoru was watching closely the samurai whose dorsal muscles had momentarily tensed.

"Can I see it...?" She said, gently slipping her head over his shoulder.

He crushed the paper in his hands.

"...What's the matter?"

The expression on Kenshin's face froze, then a cautious smile crawled across it.

"Saito asks this one for help on a mission."

"Well?"

"This one does not really know what it is for now. We'll see that later, that we will," he said, crouching again in front of the wet basin." Agent Kyosuke, please convey to Officer Fujita that he can count on this one's help. "

"Understood, Mr Himura. He will be delighted to hear that. "

With that, the policeman withdrew and the wanderer resumed its work, showing obvious attention on the cleaning of a hakama, returning exactly where he had stopped it before being interrupted by all this fuss. His mind, however, never really returned to the task at hand.

Seijuro Hiko completed his furoshiki in no time.

A spare outfit, his purse, equipment to sharpen his katana if necessary and of course his faithful jar of saké hanging on his belt. Nothing else was needed to cruise the roads. Of pragmatic nature, the master never cared about such insignificant material details.

Honestly, he was far from pleased to go on another trip. The mere thought of confronting this stinking, swarming and uneducated mass that the people outside his forest were was enough to give the hermit heartburn. Unlike his disciple who had wandered most of his life, Seijuro was rarely leaving his mountain. As for that terrible intuition that he'd had about him... Hiko still did not understand what that meant, but after spending several days running around in his hut trying to solve the impossible equation, he had reluctantly resolved to leave. In almost forty years his instinct had never deceived him.

In haste, the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi began his journey to Tokyo ...

In the middle of the night Kaoru was awakened by moans-like noises. Enjoying busy days, it was rare for Kamiya Kasshin's master to be a light sleeper.

What the...?

It was almost three o'clock in the morning and the neighborhood's streets were theoretically empty at this hour. As she focused on her hearing, she had the feeling that they were coming from the place where the samurai slept. Had he shouted so loudly as to pull her out of her sleep? Or was her audition playing tricks on her?

Whatever... I cannot take the risk of something happening to Kenshin.

Rather than thinking about this subject blindly, she decided to endure the coldness of the night, and stood up. The young kendoka feverishly put on her yukata before lighting a candle of wax, then discretely opened the next room's door...

Curled up on the edge of the futon, makura ejected on the floor, Kenshin was twisting around furiously in his bed. The cover was unstructured to the point of discovering his torso, riddled with scars. Although unconscious, the wanderer was aimlessly opening and closing his lips, as if talking to the wooden ground. And, to her surprise, he did not seem to be aware of her presence at all this time. She kept her ears open.

"Tomoe..."

His face was fully contracted.

... He's speaking in his sleep?

"Tomoe"

His arms were moving in all directions. He turned his head again, his features marred by the expression of intense pain. The kendo teacher was watching him with a mix of astonishment and horror.

"K-Ka ... o ... ru ..."

Grabbing his skull in his hands, he almost tore a bunch of red hair with his grip. The young woman felt her heart tighten.

Is he dreaming of our deaths...?

Her decision was made... She entered the room, knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. He was cold but covered in sweat.

"Kenshin. I'm here, "she whispered," I'm fine ... "

The wanderer did not react, his eyelids still vigorously closed.

"I'm here," she continued, shaking him slightly.

"No..."

He was biting his lips so hard that a discrete trickle of blood escaped from them.

"Nooooooo ..."

He doesn't hear me ...

All the while struggling he continued to moan, contracting his muscles at a strenuous pace. Despite the repeated words and gestures of the young woman, nothing was enough to wake him up. Kaoru continued for a few minutes before giving up.

It's no use. He's gone too far ...

She didn't want to shake him too badly either. The wanderer needed rest. Reluctantly, she closed the shoji of the room and silently went back to her own bed. Falling anew into the arms of Morpheus was hard enough that night, for the young woman was saddened to see the former Ishin Shishi still fighting the endless demons of his past. He would never tell her about those in the morning, but she suspected his nightmares to be much more frequent than what they actually could see...

The samurai, for his part, continued to struggle violently against his invisible enemies. After a few minutes, he finally seized the guard of his sword, which contact was frozen.

"NO!"

Kenshin awoke abruptly. His whole body was shaking. Tears were running down his cheeks and his heart was beating wildly. Only the silence and the cold twilight of the night surrounded him, but his mind was still engulfed in the long-winded abyss of his memory. He took several minutes to realize that he was just in his room. And that all this was only a vision.

He waited until his body stopped shaking. Let the tears stop flowing. He dropped his blanket, took his katana and stood up.

Enough sleep for this night.

Kenshin entered the police officer's desk directly without being announced, causing a panic attack to the receptionist he had greeted nonetheless. The tyrannical Goro Fujita was particularly meticulous about procedures, and that included the one about never disturbing him without warning.

Mibu's wolf and former patriot were staring at each other.

"Saito."

"Himura."

"I received your letter."

"Well, that'll save me a boring speech."

"Tell this one the facts."

When they were both alone, their relationship was fundamentally different. Patience and politeness were out of place between former adversaries who had exchanged more saber blows than greetings.

"You're even more irritable than usual Battosai ..."

The former Shinsengumi silently noted the rings under the indigo eyes of the redhead. He grabbed a large blue binder resting on his desk, from which ink-filled leaves were partly coming out. And began to peel them...

"The facts, Saito," repeated the wanderer.

"You are therefore aware that the police of Tokyo, Kyoto and even Osaka are investigating a large-scale case of disappearance ..."

He took out a document, where colorless portraits were drawn.

"Children, precisely."

Himura winced.

"Hm. And what do you expect from me, exactly?"

"Nothing."

Saito took a breath from his cigarette. The wanderer was nervously touching the handle of his weapon.

"Nothing so far, I just want you to keep wide-open eyes around you."

"This one is already doing so."

"...And to report any suspicious behavior to me," the officer finished.

Himura nodded. The officer put the bundle down carefully. Even sorting out the news sent by Kyoto forces had asked him a considerable amount of time.

"When I'll have a need for you to intervene, I'll call you back," Saito concluded, turning his back to the window. "For now, I don't have any more information."

The wanderer did not need to be asked twice.

"Understood, this one does not like this kind of case either."

[ridleykemp]

Merry Christmas - I did it so you didn't have to.

It’s the time of year when a particular subset of songs become unavoidable. Your reaction to hearing Christmas music everywhere can be shaped by many influences, not the least of which being “How many years you worked in a record store over the holidays and heard this music literally ad nauseam.” Ahem. Anyway, one of the years I worked at Camelot Music was 1984. That was the year that Band Aid released “Do They Know It’s Christmas”. I thought it would be fun to give it a listen and compare it to its also-evil twin, “We Are The World” and share my impressions.

“Fun” may have been the wrong choice of words there. Let’s start with the one of the most obvious traits they share: Neither are good songs. They’re just not. They were both put together extremely quickly and under difficult circumstances (very, very few “supergroups” produce great work even when they spend a year in the studio together). But, they’re bad in wildly different ways, so let’s take a look.

“Do They Know It’s Christmas” - Band Aid Released December 3, 1984

The stories of how it got made are more interesting than the song itself, which was based on a rejected bit of a song Bob Geldof wrote for his band, The Boomtown Rats. If you’re interested, there are plenty of resources available describing how the whole thing went from conception to in-the-stores in about a month. It’s a weird little song which doesn’t have the sort of sing-a-long appeal you’d expect of a benefit Christmas song. It’s an awkward collection of verses, hooks, bridges, and a pretty decent out-chorus. It’s very much an artifact of its time in that it’s both incredibly earnest and patronizing to a disturbing degree. You get the sense that there’s a sneer behind the colonialism, a criticism of it, that might have been intended in the lyrics but didn’t come across in the performances. Bono certainly thought so:

"It's the most biting line, and actually reveals how selfish a mindset we all have underneath. I think Bob was trying to be honest and raw and self-accusatory. Rather than sing, 'We're lucky it's not us' he was saying: 'Well, when you say that, you mean 'lucky it's them.' Now look at it. Now look at yourself.'"

As for the performances, they’re mostly pretty nondescript with a couple of exceptions. Bono’s wailing of that line gets the most attention, but if you listen to it (something I can only half-heartedly recommend), pay attention to Boy George’s lines. I think he’s the best vocalist in the group by some margin and I feel for George Michael having to follow him.

The “group” itself is largely composed of a few new wave groups who happened to be available in the brief window available to do the recording. Heavily represented are The Boomtown Rats, Spandau Ballet, Duran Duran, Status Quo, and Bananarama. It’s also very much a white boys club: No women get solo lines and Jodi Whatley is the only woman involved other than the members of Bananarama. For a benefit for Africa, there are also stunningly few people of African descent involved. In addition to Whatley, Kool & The Gang happened to be in the neighborhood and contribute to the chorus. The lack of voices of color doesn’t help the colonial vibe of the event.

All-in-all, it’s extremely heartfelt, very DIY, very messy, and not without its problems. If I had to pick a favorite moment, it’d be Phil Collins giving it a go on the drums in his sweater vest. I’m biased, but I don’t think Phil gets enough credit for his charity work. He may not have always been out in front, but he was tirelessly willing to donate his time to any cause that asked.

“We Are The World” - USA For Africa Released 7 March, 1985

Released only 3 months after “Do They Know It’s Christmas”, “We Are The World” sounds like it came from a completely different era. The songwriting and production of the first song were typical of the early-80s new wave era. “We Are The World”, featuring the beloved/dreaded Yamaha DX7 electric piano, was an R&B ballad with a sound that belonged to the end of the decade.

The American tune, created with the luxury of a little more time to put things together as well as the wizardry of Quincy Jones, is an oh-so-slick affair with a much more fully-realized sounds than its predecessor. Another key difference is that, while Band Aid were largely composed of the members of a few bands, USA for Africa took more of a everybody-who-is-anybody approach.

The list of soloists is daunting: Lionel Richie, Stevie Wonder, Paul Simon, Kenny Rogers, James Ingram, Tina Turner, Billy Joel, Michael Jackson, Diana Ross, Dione Warwick, Willie Nelson, Al Jarreau, Bruce Springsteen, Kenny Loggins, Steve Perry, Daryl Hall, Huey Lewis, Cyndi Lauper, Kim Carnes, Bob Dylan, and Ray Charles.

Of course, the music can’t possibly match up to a cast like that. It’s as harmless and inoffensive and forgettable as you could possible want. And the lyrics are problematic in a very different way than those of “Do They Know It’s Christmas”. Where I think the words were meant to convey “This is our responsibility to do something”, it comes across more as “Look at us and this marvelous thing we are doing for other people…look at us!”

On the plus side, the American song features a good number of African-American artists and it’s better for it. Unfortunately, instead of coming across as having it “white savior” complex, it still kind of lands on “rich American savior” which is…better? The video is far less unguarded than the UK song’s, so the charming moments are few and far between. As tempted as I am to select seeing Willie Nelson and Dione Warwick trading verses as my favorite moment, I have to give that honor to Cyndi Lauper. She brings it with an energy that Springsteen only wishes he had, and she can actually sing, too.

Thanks for indulging me in this. Now let’s skip to things I actually want to listen to over the holidays. One of the things we always look forward to is when the Neko Atsume app switches to its winter music. It’s the same song that the game normally uses, but it’s a slower, more ethereal arrangement and it gives me chills the first time it plays during the game every winter.

Back in ye olden days, when I worked in the record store, there was one record that we could not keep in stock. No one really knew the album or the artist, but when we’d play the record in-store, we’d sell out of it. I’m not kidding when I say this was often our #1 seller of all genres in December. It’s George Winston’s December and you probably want it on in the background at some point.

Long live new age music, and long live Windham Hill. Happy whatever-holiday-you-choose-to-celebrate, and take care of yourself, ok? -RK

[viralhottopics]

Idaho judge rules attack on high school football player was ‘not a rape’ or racist

Former football player gets light sentence for assaulting his disabled team-mate in a case that has drawn comparison to Stanford swimmer Brock Turner

An Idaho judge has sentenced a white former high school football player to just 300 hours of community service with probation for his part in an attack on a developmentally disabled African American team-mate, insisting the case had been wrongly portrayed by the media as racially or sexually motivated.

In a series of extraordinary remarks, district judge Randy J Stoker on Friday accused the press and the public for misrepresenting what happened in a rural Idaho high school locker room on 22 October 2015, lamenting people from the east coast have no idea what this case is about.

John RK Howard, who is now 19, was originally charged with forcible penetration by use of a foreign object for an attack on a 17-year-old in the Dietrich High School locker room after football practice.

The victims family, who are bringing a civil case, allege he was subject to sustained racist abuse and bullying in the months leading up to the incident, which involved the insertion of a coat hanger in his rectum. However Stoker was insistent the case, which has prompted nearly 150,000 people to sign change.org petition to have the judge removed from the bench in Idaho, had been misconstrued.

This is not a rape case, said an emphatic Stoker. This is not a sex case. This started out as penetration with a foreign object … Whatever happened in that locker room was not sexual. It wasnt appropriate. Theres nothing in this record that supports anything close to the sexual allegation against this young man.

In my view, this is not a case about racial bias, the judge continued, addressing the pale young man at the defense table. If I thought that you had committed this offense for racial purposes, you would go straight to the Idaho penitentiary.

According to the civil lawsuit filed by the victims family, their son had been the focus of long-term racial bullying and abuse. Howard taught him a song that glorified anal rape and the KKK, and members of the football team called him slurs including nigger, chicken eater, watermelon and Kool-Aid.

But on Friday, Stoker brushed aside those assertions. The victim was not targeted, which dispels in my view any claim of a racial incident, Stoker said. Another individual who was involved said [the victim] was called fried chicken because [he] said it was his favorite food … I dont think its a racial slur.

The case has prompted comparisons with the notorious Brock Turner case, in which the 20-year-old Stanford swimmer was convicted of multiple felonies for sexually assaulting an unconscious woman. Turner was sentenced to just six months in prison and served only three, a punishment that sparked a global firestorm from critics who argued it was overly-lenient.

Referring to news reports about the case that were printed and broadcast across the country, a frustrated Stoker fumed that people from the east coast have no idea what this case is about. Theyre not going to change their mind … But Im not going to impose a sentence that is not supported by the law.

The victim, who was not in court during the Friday sentencing, described the attack during during the preliminary hearing for another of the football players involved. The young man said that one of his friends motioned for him to come over and hugged him while another player shoved a hanger into his anus. Then, the victim said, Howard kicked the hanger, which pushed it further into his rectum.

Pain that I have never felt took over my body, he said during the April hearing, according to the transcript obtained by the Guardian. I screamed, but afterwards, I kept it to myself.

Howard pleaded guilty to the lesser charge of felony injury to a child in a December agreement that limited his punishment and allowed him to avoid prison. Fridays sentencing was in accordance with the plea agreement: in addition to 300 hours of community service, Howard will be on probation for three years. If he violates probation, he will be sentenced to a maximum of 10 years in prison.

Howard was the only adult of the three young men charged in the case. Charges against the minors involved in the incident were resolved in juvenile court, where state statute requires that all proceedings be closed to the public.

I try to make my decisions doing what I think is appropriate justice, Stoker added before sentencing John RK Howard. Thats what Im going to do in this case. For all the people who sent the letters, told me I should die, you wasted your time … Im hoping that this sentencing today will bring to an end the misrepresentations that have occurred in this case.

After the judgment, E Lee Schlender, the victims attorney, said the truth will come out about a case which the school superintendent and attorney generals investigators agreed was a vicious rape.

Now at the sentencing of the adult who led the attack the defense attorneys proclaimed that it never happened. That the adoptive parents of not only the victim but 24 other children from around the world made all this up to get rich. They were not challenged by the attorney generals attorneys who sat silent or at times, even agreed. A sad day in the history of my beloved state. This case is not over. The federal civil case is alive and well. The truth will come out.

The sentence came at the end of a dramatic hearing that raised questions about who was telling the truth and just who was the victim in the notorious case that rocked the small, ranching town of Dietrich, Idaho, which has a population of around 330.

The afternoon hearing began with the victims tearful mother recounting how the rape, in her words, had ruined her adopted sons life, leaving him sleepless and suicidal. Although Dietrich residents started out sympathetic, she said, the family eventually felt so harassed that they had to move.

This is not the life we wanted for our son, and it is not the life he was going to have, the mother said. Our lives have all been changed so dramatically because of what happened.

She recounted chasing after her distraught son as he held a large shard of glass against his neck. She said the family dog was poisoned and they were so afraid they sold their home at a loss and left town. And she pleaded for Stoker to impose a harsher sentence than the one proscribed in the plea agreement.

Howards punishment, the victims mother said, is a slap on the hand for him, adding that for her son and her family it is a slap in the face. She talked about the humiliation and pain her family endured and asked Stoker realize that John RK Howard will have only some discomfort … Please give John RK Howard the punishment he deserves.

But Brad Calbo, Howards defense attorney, painted the victims parents as liars who were financially motivated, drawing attention to their $10m civil rights suit against the school district and its officials and suggesting they coerced their fragile son into committing perjury.

In an unexpected and bizarre twist, the defense attorney played a tape of the victim appearing to recant his earlier statements that was recorded by his football coaches.

I dont think you guys should have to lose your farms, the victim told his football coaches in the discussion, which occurred following an argument with his parents. It was never my intention. I was fed stuff, fed lies … I was pressured.

The victim continued, after being questioned about his parents intent, that its always been about the money, its always been about the $10m. I love you guys to death.

The victim was not raped, said a vehement Calbo. No one has ever been accused of raping [him] period with the notable exception of [his] mother. [He] never claimed he was raped. [He] was not pinned down while a hanger was forcibly inserted in his rectum. In fact, Calbo said, Howard helped the victim with his homework and John loves him today despite all of this nonsense.

Schlender said that his client was coerced by the coaches into making such statements about his family. The coaches knew he was mentally disabled and taking major anti-psychotic medication, when they pressed the victim and recorded the conversation, according to a document filed in the civil case.

Part of the audio recording that Calbo did not mention in court Friday was the victim saying, according to the civil document, I honestly dont know who did the hanger thing. Who did the, who held me, I was, I dont know. All I know is that it happened.

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