#also so many of you have similar names/icons and it throws me for a loop EVERY TIME | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

Text

Here we go Loopty Loo pt 3

Summary: Graduation was supposed to signal the final time they all spent time together at UA, to show they have all grown into the Heros they dreamed of being.

It was supposed to be, but when has anything ever been easy for class 1-A?

AN: A Yagi central chapter for the big guys big day!

pt1

pt 2

pt 3 (HERE)

pt 4

___________________________________________

Loop #12

___________________________________________

Looping was… odd to say the least, even after so many years, they had yet to find a point of origin for their travels through time and dimensions.

Shouta and the students were making it through the best they could but the man could help but feel increasingly isolated.

Every single one of his students were partially his children at this point. Though he wasn’t going to admit that to their faces, he was fairly certain from the grins he got when he grouched about them they had guessed how he really felt.

He supported them throughout the trials and hardships of being stuck as high schoolers for nearly forty years now. They had plenty of happy, sad, uncomfortable, and embarrassing moments between them at this point, especially when the dorms ended up being built each first year.

He stocked them with enough candy, soda, and junk food to give them all heart attacks by twenty-five if they ever broke out of these damned loops, but also encouraged healthy eating ad spent more of his own money on keeping fresh produce and food in their kitchen then he was willing to admit.

He trained them passed what he ever had before, knowing that while their skills and abilities reverted each time they returned back to the start, the knowledge and muscle memory stayed and he wasn’t going to allow them to slack no matter how much he wanted to. It didn’t mean he was above treating them enough that Mic and Midnight had accused him of going soft more than a few times.

He allowed them more freedom then he used to because he knew they weren’t as naive as they once were, turning a blind eye if they brought alcohol back to the dorms, or got up to some ‘extra training’, though he took a certain twisted glee in forcing them all to sit through the safe sex talk each time they switched genders. He was not dealing with any of them getting pregnant, even if it meant throwing condoms at the red faces of his children and talking to Recovery Girl about getting the girls on birth control.

Even so, he felt so far separated from the students that were sixteen years younger than him. He was the adult, the only adult in this situation. Sure he was making sure to keep his relationships with his friends and lovers in every timeline they ended in, putting in the effort to be a good friend and allowing a few more of his walls to fall around them then he ever would in the original timeline, but there was only so much that could be helped when he could discuss the strain time traveling was having on him.

Sure he could talk to the children but… what kind of father was he if he put his own problems onto the kids that were just doing their best to stay afloat? He was their support, they didn’t need him breaking down on them to weigh them down further.

That’s how he found himself in bed at 3 am, on the first day of school, trying desperately to go back to sleep before he needed to go see the brats for the ‘first time’ all over again.

Had he slept in his bed the first time? He couldn’t remember, though he would appreciate it if the switch didn’t happen at ungodly hours of the morning.

Finally, at 5:30 he gave up and slowly made his way to the school. If anyone asked he could just claim that he had covered a patrol the night before and curl up into his sleeping bag until he had to be down in class 1-A at 8:45.

He tried to think over the changes to the timeline, as he entered the school, memories of this timeline crowding around his memories of the original and subsequent timelines, though he found himself fidgeting with his capture weapon in a way he hadn’t since high school, seems as if he never kicked the habit after Mic teased him one too many times this go around.

Everything seemed to be similar enough to the first timeline based on his memories with a few minor changes, he and Mic weren’t dating, this go around, but were still good friends. He had almost not made it into the hero course his first year due to taking second in the Sports Festival, but it was found out during the break between semesters the kid that beat him had cheated and was subsequently demoted to Gen Ed while Aizawa has been moved up. He still worked with vigilantes, though he was more friendly with them then he originally was.

Nothing too major for him to keep in mind about himself then, what about recent events?

He recalled watching the entrance exams, seeing the students through an overly critical eye, making snide comments he hadn’t truly believed since the third loop, he can’t think of any major changes from his kids, except… Midoriya…

He hadn’t shattered three limbs this time, had he?

No, if he remembered correctly the boy had actually managed to wrack up a mediocre five points from the robots this time from a lance and throwing knives he seemed to summon out of thin air before the Zero-pointer had appeared. He had still launched himself to impossible heights by a pair of wings that seemed to be made of light and blasted the robot back with a bolt of pale green lightning before passing out. Recovery Girl said there was nothing she could do for him but let him sleep. He hadn’t bothered to check up on the boy after that, not knowing him yet.

Whatever his power was it was powerful, but was it still One for All?

It didn’t seem like it. That would be new, not seeing the boy cultivate the power bestowed upon him by All Might.

But now that he thought about it he couldn’t remember the meeting introducing All Might to the staff including the truly mind breaking revelation of the man’s true skeletal form… was it possible that he never got injured… Was he still the Yagi that Aizawa had started treasuring as a friend almost as much as he did Hizashi, Nemuri, and Tensei?

His answer came sooner then he thought when he entered the staff room, blissfully empty at this earlier hour, only to hear a quiet sob from the adjoining bathroom. He slowly worked his way over, mind racing as he tried to figure out which of his coworkers could possibly be having a mental breakdown before the first day when he started making out the mumbling.

“-do this. It’s just a bit different than times before. You just need to… make friends again and find a way to train Young Midoriya to be your successor again… or is his current quirk to different? Damnit can I still give it to him without the other teachers growing suspicious? … I can’t give it to someone else… even if he’s not the same… it’s always been him…”

Yagi was… what did he mean by again? He couldn’t possibly…

“Stupid Stupid Stupid. Why are you even looking for a succeeder? I have a lot of life left in me now, I’m only 49… I really am pathetic, huh. Even now...”

The sobs were becoming too much for Aizawa to listen to without intervening, he had to know…

All Might jumped and whirled around to stare at him with wide eyes as Aizawa stood in the doorway. The tear tracks and red rim eyes worried Aizawa but he couldn’t help but notice the man in front of him wasn’t quite filling out his suit, even if it wasn’t quite as noticeable as it usually was, the shadows around his face receding almost entirely and his iconic bunny ears were gone, framing around his face in crinkled strands instead.

“Aizawa-kun!” He squeaked, scrubbing his face harshly, attempting to paint his famous smile back on, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here for another hour… I’m sorry that you had to witness me like this, it seems I was more panicked about teaching then I-”

“Toshinori,” He cut in causing a startled gasp to escape the man, who he couldn’t recall ever telling them his true name this timeline, “If I said the names Eri and Overhaul, what would you think of?”

The number one hero stiffened, hands clenching next to his legs as his shoulders shook.

“A very sweet little girl that needs saving and a maniac that harmed Eri-chan because of his quirk. How would you describe them?”

Aizawa couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his cheeks, “My daughter that I never get enough time with, who loves apples, Deku, Mirio, and to braid my hair with purple ribbons, and a sociopath with a god complex that despises quirks.”

All Might’s legs gave out after he started describing his little girl, sinking to the floor with another sob on his lips.

“You’re stuck too,” He whispered, as Shouta came to sit next to him, “You’ve been going through these damn loops just like I have.”

“Number 12,” He agreed, “You’ve been through this alone?”

The man nodded, but a real smile was already pulling his lips upward, “But, we have each other now, right? We don’t have to be alone anymore!”

Aizawa didn’t fight a smile, “Optimistic as always, you damn sunflower.”

He laughed, “How can I be upset? I’ve just received the best news I’ve had since this entire thing has started!”

“I don’t know,” Aizawa huffed, “I think finding out you still have your stomach and lung is pretty good news.”

“It came with the price of Young Midoriya knowing me, however,” He sighed, a sad tinge entering his words, “I prefer the constant pain to not having my boy being with me.”

“Well…” Aizawa drew out, “I don’t know if that’s entirely true.”

When Aizawa marched into class with the number one hero in tow, the students all froze, Kaminari snatching up the eraser to erase the words he and Bakugo were already writing on the whiteboard Momo must have created when she arrived. A glance over the room confirmed that all 20 students were there.

“Hello Class,” He greeted with a slight smirk, “I would like you to meet Yagi Toshinori, or as you know him better, All Might, he’s Looper number 22.”

That’s all it took for Midoriya to launch himself out of his chair and leaping across the room into his mentor’s arms, who caught him on instinct as he looked like he was about to start crying again. Aizawa had done his best to help Izuku through the strain of being so close yet so far from his mentor as he went through the motions of getting to know him over and over again even though he already knew the stories of One for All and All for One down to the finest detail and knew Yagi enough that he had called him dad in almost every timeline they had been in so far. From the tight hold Yagi had on his successor, and the gentle way he cupped the back of his head, it was clear the strain had been mutual.

The others stood back, eyes wide as they kept looking back between the hugging pair and Aizawa.

He merely sighed lightly shoving Yagi’s shoulder, “Get in the room idiots, unless you want to explain why you’re hugging a student you should not know in any fashion.”

“Easy,” Todoroki offered, “Just claim you’re his secret love child.”

Midoriya groaned, pulling his face from his mentor’s neck, “I told you for the last time, Shoto. I’m not biologically related to All Might!”

Yagi just laughed, withheld tears causing his voice to be raspier then anything, “Well…”

Aizawa smirked, “Oh? Do tell Toshi.”

The man moved Izuku to one hip rubbing the back of his neck with his open hand, “Two loops… or maybe three loops ago, Young Midoriya was my biological son, though Inko made me promise to not tell him until he turned 18, even after finding out I was training him to be my protege. I decided it didn't change the bond we were forming so why did it matter?”

“Oh my god,” Deku whispered, “I can’t believe your conspiracy theories came true.”

“I’m not really surprised by anything anymore when it comes to these damn loops,” Shinsou sighed getting a groan of approval from around the room.

“Enough talking,” Aizawa snapped, “Y’all know the drill by now.”

Yagi raised an amused brow, “Y'all? It looks like I’ve rubbed off on you a bit my friend,”

“Shut your star-spangled mouth, I want to get this over with as soon as possible so I don’t have Midnight and Mic pounding down my door to ask why I’m going so easy on the class.”

Mina snorted, “Like they didn't think you tried to adopt us all by the second month in the original timeline.”

“Detention for slander, Ashino,” He called as he walked to the front of the room, cuffing her lightly on the back of the head as he passed.

He forcibly had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he sees the whole class grinning up at him as he leaned on his podium. All Might having sat on his desk with Midoriya still fused to his side.

“Okay since Katsuki and Denki are leading this thing this time you get to explain to All Might what’s we do every time we start a loop.”

The kids launch into a quick explanation as Katsuki rewrote all the rules again and copied down the major changes they had noted already.

Midoriya’s new quirk, Astral Weaving, was in the number one spot, but under it was also a few changes about families and old classes. Most interesting was how Shoto was still in contact with Toya but was pretty sure based on his looping memories that his brother was still Dabi.

“I got nothing to add,” Aizawa hummed turning to his coworker, “Yagi?”

The man just smiled before smoke began rising from his form, causing Deku to blink as his seat only shrunk slightly.

“Holy Fuck!” Sero cried, causing the entire room to be up in arms, awe, and happiness rushing through them to see their teacher was okay for the first time since they meet him.

Aizawa didn’t even try to lessen the smile on his face as he saw the first real All Might patented grin, not just a facade, not just the fake plastered on one that never seemed to reach his eyes that he had gotten so used to seeing since the beginning of the loops.

Surrounded by his friend and their kids, Aizawa could finally see the silver lining again. ___________________________________________

Taglist: @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @plaguedoctorsnake (I’m so sorry for forgetting to tag yall in pt 2)

#bnha #boku no hero academia #aizawa shoto #yagi toshinori #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shōto #mina ashido #all of class 1-a #execpt for the grape #angst #time loop #time travel #Yagi isn't hurt #Midoriya has a quirk #dadmight

26 notes · View notes

himeryuukinka · 6 years

Text

[ LFRP ] Ane - ( Balmung, Crystal DC )

❝ there is a muchness about you. I wonder... what I must do to have such muchness in myself..? ❞

🔓-- A lock icon denotes the presence of an additional something significant to be discovered only via roleplay. The more locks there are, the harder it will be to learn! Build a relationship with her to discover these secrets she keeps to herself.

This LFRP post is specifically for her geomancer verse. Check over here for access to the LFRP post for her canon verse. I can play both/either on Balmung/Crystal as necessary!

❀ General Information ––– -

Name: “Ane.” 🔓 🔓 🔓 Epithet: Of the Weeping Waters. Gender: Cisgender female. Age: 28. Race: Au Ra (Raen.) Birthplace: Yama, Othard. 🔓 Current Residence: The Itomori Shrine, Doma. Relationship Status: Single. Sexual Orientation: Demisexual. Occupation: Yaman geomancer.

❀ Physical Appearance ––– -

Hair: Incredibly long. Straightened with a hot metal comb. Typically worn loose with some hair elegantly looped and bound just above her shoulders, framing her face. Seldom changes style. Looks to be all warm black. 🔓🔓 Eyes: Warm grey. Clouded by cataracts. Somber. Height: 4 fm 8 im. Distinguishing Marks: Rounded, soft scales reminiscent of a koi’s. Geomantic circles tattoo’d on her palms, the bottoms of her feet, and upper back. 🔓 🔓 🔓 Common Accessories: Ornately patterned silver bands in the front two strands of her hair. Brass bangles around her wrists and ankles decorated with suzu bells that remain curiously silent even when shaken. 🔓

❀ Personality & Tidbits ––– -

A solemn young geomancer hailing from the seaside village of Yama. Her sad and serious air lend her presence a degree of mystery, and her lifelong practice of tempering her emotions makes it harder still to know how she actually feels. Having dedicated all her years to her people’s form of geomancy, Ane thinks herself ill-suited for anything else, and so her entire sense of identity has become tangled up in the magicks that she wields. She believes that she exists for the sole purpose of using geomancy to help the people around her, leading the young woman to quickly throw herself headlong into danger without a moment’s hesitation so long as it is for the sake of someone else.

Talents: Yaman geomancy. Weaknesses: Physical/close quarters combat. Unable to use offensive magicks entirely. Kindness directed at her. Virtues: Dutiful. Genuine. Tender-hearted. Gentle. Curious. Thoughtful. Meticulous. Flaws: Naive. Perfectionist. Reckless. Overextending. Emotionally clumsy. Silently self-destructive. Has difficulty detecting sarcasm and understanding certain idioms and forms of humor. Spiritual Views: Reverence for the Dawn Father. Respect and recognition for the kami. Hobbies: Cooking, though really only skilled in Far Eastern cuisines. Ikebana. Tending to the shrine’s grounds. Fears: Isolation. Being forgotten. Dying before she can train new geomancers. Temperament: Melancholic. Alignment: Neutral Good.

❀ Yaman Geomancy ––– - 🔓/🔓🔓

I thought this topic could use its own brief section as her clan’s form of geomancy is not the same as the geomancy seen widespread in the Far East, as well as having some very specific elements tailored to her personal use of it. Those characters who are well-learned geomancers have the potential to recognize her as specifically from Yama so long as we discuss it ahead of time, and those who are familiar with geomancy or nature-based magicks may be able to reason out what she uses but not where she is from -- or why her geomancy differs from the more common forms. As with everything, I am happy and willing to discuss IC arcane knowledge, but do please run it by me ahead of time. Her clan was very secretive concerning its branch of geomancy, and while not at all closed to visits from the outside world, this art is absolutely not common knowledge! Please take this information as OOC reference for how this magic works rather than IC knowledge! Thank you!

Magic Family: Geomancy. Tools: Sacred paper talismans. Arcane ink carried in blessed brass pots. Brushes. A single heavy, enchanted bell inspired by bianzhong. Rounded stones of various sizes and weights. Strengths: Magic cancelling through elemental balancing. Barriers. Weaknesses: No way to counter physical weapons or unarmed physical strikes. Lengthy barrier preparation. Entirely a supportive and defensive art. General Overview: An ancient branch of geomancy thought dead by many. Rather than drawing only from the elements of wind, water, and earth, Yaman geomancy draws also from fire. It has never been intended as an offensive art and cannot be conjured as a weapon in battle. Instead, it revolves entirely around elemental balancing -- aether of one element is met with an equal force and amount of its opposing element, effectively cancelling out harmful magicks entirely. A delicate art with a lot of room for error, it requires years upon years of practice to master as it requires a great deal of concentration; those sensitive to aether may display a natural gift for it, as they can more easily sense how much oomph to give a particular counterspell. Failing to meet an elemental force with a sufficient counterforce can result in the spell connecting without real issue (too little) or wounding the geomancer in the process with an unstable aetheric burst (too much.) Though, like its Doman and Hingan counterparts, Yaman geomancy still relies heavily on comparable channeling methods -- that is, the combined use of an enchanted bell and glyphs to summon a specific element or combination of elements. It is more reliant on physical totems, though, and so Yaman geomancers would carry paper talismans upon which to write what they required in combat. Ane’s Geomancy: Where hers differs is how she channels it, but I prefer to keep the specific details for roleplay discovery! 🔓🔓

❀ Traits ––– -

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious / Spirited

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

❀ Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Never. Drugs: No. Alcohol: Very rarely. Surprisingly good at holding her liquor.

❀ Hooks ––– -

Region-specific connections. Asterisks (*) for options open only through discussion with me beforehand.

❀ The Village of Yama* - The once-proud seat to an ancient form of geomancy now all but lost to the world in the wake of its destruction at the hands of the Empire. Villagers who Ane may have known prior to the deaths of most everyone on the Shore of the Blue Lily are a welcome connection. There is potential for other survivors apart from Ane and the small group of children she managed to save, though know that all other geomancers perished in the attack, whether by their own lack of experience or their remaining behind to cover the retreat of those who tried to escape, and so any Yaman geomancer characters would be strictly past connections only. 🔓 ❀ Doma, a Wartorn Nation - Doma is the nation that most often saw secret services rendered by Yama’s geomancers, and Ane continues to honor that as the village’s sole arcane successor. She spent much of her formative years traveling the length and breadth of Yanxia to better understand its people and their plight with the Empire, and so there is plenty of opportunity for Doman characters to either recognize her personally (had they met while they were both younger) or to have a suspicion about her duty as a geomancer. Doman characters have lots of avenues open to them, considering she has lived among them since the ruination of Yama! ❀ The Island Nation of Hingashi - Similar to Doma, Ane sometimes travels to Kugane when necessary. While not a place she frequents, the potential is there -- but do not be surprised if she initially regards Hingan geomancers with distance and dislike. She does not take kindly to charlatans using her beloved art to take advantage of the desperate, and there’s no shortage of such people in the port city to fuel her suspicions.

General roleplay connections. Asterisks (*) for options open only through discussion with me beforehand.

❀ A Hidden World of Geomancy* - Other geomancers, particularly those native to the continent of Othard, would likely have intimate knowledge of Yama and its people, and Ane would be more likely to trust them implicitly with certain facts than with those outside this arcane circle. I like to think of geomancy as having something like a support and information network unique to its practitioners; geomancer connections have the potential to know things about Ane that others would not! 🔓 ❀ Those looking for stationary arcane wards. - Not too unlike the magicks employed by the scholars of Nym, Yaman geomancy involves the enchantment and careful placement of keystones around a structure or area to shield it from attack or approach. If your character is in need of long-term wards for their home or business, Ane will oblige. ❀ Those seeking someone to accompany them with mobile wards. - Far trickier and taxing to employ than stationary wards but certainly not impossible. Ane wishes to help as many people as possible, and so if you’ve a character looking for some extra protection on an adventure or dangerous foray into the unknown, she’s not one to turn down a request for aid. ❀ Those in need of elemental protection. - Perhaps Ane’s greatest skill. She’s more than willing to help keep people safe by way of her clan’s geomancy; those venturing forth into an intensely aspected dungeon or region could certainly benefit from her magicks! ❀ Generally, those looking to fight for those too weak or beaten down to fight for themselves. - Often branded as a goody-goody by her guardian, Ane is quick to help those in need -- and often without a thought for the effect it could have on her. She will mesh easily with characters of similar values and morality and struggle with those who do not. But that being said... ❀ Enemies and rivals who might challenge her beliefs or give her trouble are absolutely welcome. - Conflict has excellent potential to build characterization, and I am all about that! So if you play a more evil or chaotic-aligned character, please don’t be be afraid to come push her buttons. ❀ And of course, friendships. - I’m always down for great platonic relationships, especially those that grow into familial affection. ❀ Thought of something not listed here? - Drop me a line so we can talk about it! While typically centered in the Far East, I already know of ways and reasons she would be in Eorzea -- so if your character does not frequent any of the places she spends most of her time, we can easily fix that!

❀ OOC Information ––– -

Genres: I am not particularly genre picky; I gravitate most towards those scenarios that may result in interesting, long-term character development -- and hopefully for both/all parties! I am a sucker for angst with purpose, though I do also love fluff and slice of life scenarios. So long as the scene doesn’t run out of steam or feel strained/stressed, I am a happy bean. Playstyle: I am... not very skilled when it comes to in-game roleplay. I prefer to connect one on one or in very small groups (no more than five people) so I can put my all into making certain my replies are timely, tidy, and... well, good. I prefer to write on something like tumblr or Discord, but I can do my best to make in-game work! Length: I’m someone who leans most towards a paragraph at the absolute minimum, but I can produce pages if we’re roleplaying on tumblr or Discord. Server: Balmung for roleplay/visiting with in-game friends, though my PvE main is over on Ultros. Both characters are available under the name Ane Borel. Timezone: CST. Availability: In-game: most of the time, so long as you give me a ping and ask if I can hop on! Discord: Much of the same! Please do be aware, though, that this is subject to change as I’m interviewing for some jobs and my schedule won’t be so free in the future. I’ll update this post when necessary. Contact Information: Obviously you can contact me here! This is a sideblog to my main over at @sunlitpeony, where you can also message me, and then I can give my Discord out upon request/interest.

{ banner art by: the-xaotician }

#ffxiv #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv lfrp #;; ooc #;; I tweaked it just a touch to add in a little more relevant information #;; geomancer Ane is quite a different lizard compared to her canon counterpart!#;; under a cut because it got really long... sob #;; if you made it to the end you should get a medal tbh

31 notes · View notes

roro-the-aggro · 6 years

Text

Family, Love, and Beginnings

Merry Christmas, @moonlight91! It is I, your Santa. I had so much fun writing this prompt. There were alot of firsts for me, which I love. I hope you enjoy your present.

Prompt: bottle, green, crown, candle & kisses

Rating: E

A03

“You’re late” Belle exclaimed, dramatically.

“Apologies, milady. Weaver decided that our lunch date was better delayed with mountains of tedious paperwork. That, and the wind is really picking up out there,” the detective sighed, joining her at the booth. “Honestly, Belle, he’s barely tolerable as a partner. How do you find him tolerable as a husband?”

Belle rolled her eyes, before narrowing them at him.

“Killian, you’re his partner. He has certain expectations of you. Did you expect this job to be easy?” she questioned, sipping at her iced tea. “Besides, I’m his wife. Do you really expect him to treat the two of us equally?”

Killian shook his head. He knew when he was asked to be a detective, that it also meant stepping up his game. He had to put in more energy, hours, and perseverance than ever before.

“Right again, as always. Or your husband was intentionally sabotaging me in order to spend less time with you. That’s not entirely out of the realm of possibilities,” he laughed.

“My husband can be a jealous man, this is true. I’ve told him many times that you’re a good and honorable man. Have faith, Killian. Weaver didn’t ask you to be his partner just to keep an eye on you. He sees the good in you, just as I do,” Belle assured. “How’s Alice doing, by the way?”

Belle could see his face fall immediately, her smile now fading. She grabbed his hand and gave a soft squeeze.

“I’ll talk to her today.”

“Thank you, Belle. I’m running out of options. I can only do so much to keep her out of trouble.”

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

It didn’t take long for Belle to find Alice. There she sat, atop her favorite troll. It had always been her place of thoughts, especially when she was troubled. Belle had always been involved in the young girl’s life, from the very beginning. She cried with joy, the day Killian named her Alice’s godmother. It had been a blessing on her life, even through Alice’s bad days.

And here she was now, still young but nearly an adult, her face full of worry and confusion. The wind whipped her hair around her face wildly, but she was too deep in thought to care. Belle approached the statue slowly, leaning gently against the statue.

“What ails my beautiful girl today?”

Alice didn’t respond immediately. She turned her face towards Belle, tear stains evident on her face.

“I can’t talk in the open. Too many could hear me,” she answered quietly.

“That’s fair. How about you climb down and escort me home? I have orange marmalade with your name on it,” Belle said warmly, smiling widely. “Looks like a storm is brewing anyway. I can put the kettle on as well.”

Alice smiled faintly and nodded, hopping down off the statue. She kept her arms tightly wound around herself, her thoughts obviously worrying over something important. Belle looped an arm through one of Alice’s, holding her close as they walked.

Once inside the house, Belle hurried to the kitchen, waving Alice in.

“Go ahead and tuck in. I’ll get you a sandwich,” she said, retrieving the marmalade from the fridge. “So, tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart.”

Alice hesitantly sat at the table, her arms still crossed tightly. Her gaze was squarely fixed on the edge of the table. Even as Belle sat the plate in front of her, she still stared blankly. Belle pulled a chair beside her to sit, gently taking one of Alice’s hands in hers.

“Does this have anything to do with you becoming a big sister soon?”

In an instant, Alice was in her arms.

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

Weaver rushed through the door, the rain now coming down in droves. He first noticed to see Belle on the phone, a contented smile on her face. Her face brightened all the more when she saw him. He set the small paper bags in his arms on the table by the door.

“She’s on her way home now. She’s ready to talk about it. Just be gentle and understanding. I promise you it’s not as bad as you imagined it to be. Alright. Let me know how it goes tomorrow. Bye, Killian,” she ended, slipping her phone into her pocket.

Belle wrapped her arms around her husband, breathing in the scent of him. She sighed happily, as she felt his arms envelop her.

“Our girl alright?” he asked.

“She’ll be alright. She was under the impression that the new baby would somehow disconnect her from Killian. I don’t know if she realizes how much Emma loves her, even if she isn’t her birth mother. Being a stepmother can be a difficult role to fill, but I think this baby will be the key that brings them closer together as a family,” Belle explained, helping him out of his jacket.

“It seems he has more on his plate than I was aware of. I suppose you received quite a bit of lip from him today,” he smirked, hooking an arm around her.

“You really shouldn’t be so hard on him. He’s in a similar position we were once in. I’d have thought you might show him sympathy. You know Bae didn’t take to me immediately, especially so when we found out I was pregnant with Gideon,” she reminded, laying her head against him. “Get to know him. You won’t be disappointed.”

Weaver exhaled heavily, holding her close and gently kissing her head.

“I know, I know. I’ll attempt to speak with him at work next week. For now though, I may have picked up a few items for us this evening that I have a feeling you’ll approve of,” he replied, quirking a brow.

“Oh? Did you pick up some drinks? I imagine Roni was able to sneak you something discounted,” she giggled mischievously. “Let’s see what you have.”

Belle grabbed the papers bags off the table, hurrying into the kitchen. Weaver laughed, following close behind her. She reached into the first bag and pulled a green bottle from the bag.

“Ah, of course, your favorite. I’m surprised that Roni was generous enough to sneak you a bottle of Jäger. Must’ve owed you a favor, eh?” she snickered, handing him the bottle.

“She most certainly did. You’ll be pleased to know that she had no qualms about giving me the next bottle, especially when I mentioned that it was your favorite,” he mentioned, giving a wide smirk.

Belle excitedly pulled open the second bag, her eyes widening with glee. She ran a finger down the clear bottle of amber liquid, staring contentedly at the iconic red and gold crown on the front label.

“I’ll have to thank her, the time I stop by. I’m glad you got home when you did. It’s pouring out there. Although, that makes for perfect weather for drinks and a night in,” she said, moving towards the cabinets. “So, are we thinking shots or mixers?”

CRACK

A crash of lightning hit far too close, shaking the ground beneath them and removing any source of light in the house.

“Damn it,” Belle whispered under her breath, trying to steady herself.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked, rushing over to her.

“I dropped a glass on the counter. The lightning sort of spooked me.”

“It’s alright. We have plenty more,” he reassured her, reaching up towards the top of the fridge. “How about you take the flashlight, a couple of glasses, and the drinks upstairs? I’ll clean up the glass and meet you up there in just a moment.”

“Sounds good. Take your time. I’ll make sure everything is perfect,” she replied, quirking a brow at him.

Weaver narrowed his eyes at her, giving a sideways smirk. As soon as she rushed up the stairs, he carefully collected the broken glass and discarded it into the bin. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, using its light to guide him to the stairs. He could see a faint light coming from the top of the stairs and slowly moved upwards towards it. Once up the stairs, he entered the bedroom and instantly lost his breath.

Every available surface was covered with lit candles. There, on the bedside table, were the bottles and glasses. Of course, though, the most breathtaking view before him was Belle. She was laying on the bed, her body completely bare for him. Her long, brown curls cascaded over her body. It was like viewing a priceless work of art.

“You’re a tad overdressed for the occasion, Detective. How about you give me a show?” she said, her voice low and sultry.

Weaver wasn’t about to deny her. He couldn’t, not when she had prepared such a feast for the eyes. His belt went first, dropping unceremoniously to the floor. He untucked his denim button up, slowly undoing each button. He loved watching how his movements, however small, made her squirm. His shirt glided down his arms and onto the floor. He wasted no time throwing off his undershirt, his torso now on display for her. He chuckled quietly to himself, as he spied her biting that beautiful bottom lip.

“You are so beautiful,” she whispered, breathlessly.

Weaver rolled his eyes, knowing full well that it was she who was the beautiful one. He slowly undid his jeans, kicking off each leg rather recklessly. He hooked his thumbs under the elastic band of his boxers, pulling them down at a painstakingly slow pace.

Belle sucked in a noisy breath, as his cock was finally revealed to her. She slipped a hand between her thighs, more than pleased with the sight before her.

He was on the bed in an instant, pulling her back against his chest. His hand covered hers, moving both of their hands roughly against her core. He groaned against her neck, as she gasped loudly. He nearly lost control, when he felt her other hand wrap tightly around his cock.

“B-Belle… fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking against her.

“Such language, Detective. Do you always come undone so easily? However will you last the night at this rate?” she teased, knowing full well the repercussions of saying such things.

Weaver had her flipped onto her back faster than she could’ve anticipated, his wild eyes now glaring at her. Her breath hitched, as he held her wrists again the bed.

“Do you know what happens to girls who dare to tease me?” he growled low, jutting his cock against her thigh. “I fuck them so hard that they won’t be able to walk straight. Is that something you’re prepared for?”

“Please,” she almost cried, spreading her legs wide for him.

Weaver released her wrists, pulling one of her legs up roughly and hooking it over his shoulder. He turned her onto her side, her other leg resting between his own. He grabbed his cock, rubbing the head up and down her wet folds.

“Weaver, don’t tease me!” she gasped, wriggling against his grasp.

“This coming from the girl who was actively teasing not but a minute ago. That’s rich. You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Weaver, please. I need you inside me now. I need your cock. Please!” she begged.

His thrust in hard, fucking her as fast as his hips would allow. His arms hugged her thigh tightly, her screams only spurring him on more. They’d only barely begun, and he’d lost count of how many times Belle had screamed his name. She was continually becoming tighter around him, and was bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

Belle was in a fog of absolute ecstasy. She couldn’t even remember how many times he’d made her come. She was certain that his statement would ring true. She wouldn’t be able to walk straight after this.

“Weaver, please. C-come for me,” she gasped, her voice quivering. “Come inside me!”

And that was it. He was done for. He couldn’t deny her. His arms squeezed her thigh impossibly tight, as his release shook him to his very core. He couldn’t stop himself from gasping loudly, his body now trembling from waves of pleasure that his release brought him. As he slowly came down from the high, his grip on her softened. He fell back onto the bed, a gasping and panting mess.

Belle moved over to him quickly, wrapping her arms around him. He’d outdone himself tonight. She’d never seen him so exhausted before. She gently ran her hands through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“Sleep, my love. We’ll save the drinks for another rainy day,” she whispered.

#Rumbelle Secret Santa #rss #Rumbelle Secret Santa 2018 #moonlight91

5 notes · View notes

fangroyal · 6 years

Text

WIP Meme

Okay, so hear me out, but I’m gonna start by giving a big thank you to @doubleappled for this one. You said you were tagging anyone who hadn’t gotten around to doing this yet, and I happen to be one of those, so I took that message to heart. Haha! I’d secretly been wanting someone to tag me in this for awhile, but it hadn’t happened yet, and I finally decided fuck it, I’m just gonna do it myself. I’ve not written in months because of this weird illness I’ve been dealing with, and I’ve been wanting to go through my WIP to kind of...try to get myself back into it? So here goes.

The Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Now here’s another thing. I don’t have a single WIP folder. I have MANY, all split up into different categories. So I’m gonna list them as such.

Harry Potter

(Untitled Broship 01) and (02) - some dumb Draco & Pansy ideas I had like three years ago

(Untitled Krumwood) - What it says on the tin. I think I was gonna do this for some comment kink type fest awhile ago and just....never....did???

Pride - back when I used to be obsessed with Oliver/Draco. x’D I was planning on incorporating some Ginsy as well. Basically, I’d gotten super inspired by a picture similar to this one (can’t find the original now), and fell in love with idea of them hooking up at a wizarding pride parade, covered in rainbow paint/chalk/whatever.

Harry Potter > Requests

Jersey - So you all know, I name any request type WIP docs after the requester. Just a way to help me remember. Anyway, this is for my Draise fake dating fic The Wedding Date, which I’d originally started writing..........a year and a half ago..........for the amazing Jersey’s (aka @kevinsnowday) bday in 2017. I managed to post chapter one on her bday just fine, and then......never.....got around.....to the rest........Sorry, boo. ^^’ I really, really want to get back to this one eventually.

Harry Potter > Requests > Gay!Draco Challenge > Round 2

kreeblimsabs - Another really old one I want to get back to, my god.....I got this request a fucking year ago this very week, I think........This was from, as the folder names say, round two of my Gay!Draco Challenge. kreeblimsabs (who I’m not sure if they’re still on Tumblr, it won’t let me tag them for some reason) requested I write them a Dron drabble inspired by my favorite Disney song. Well, I’m gonna tell you all now...my favorite Disney song happens to be Hellfire from Hunchback of Notre Dame. So yeah. Haha! The ONLY reason I haven’t written this yet is because that’s such a dark and iconic song, that I wanted to do it when the mood really struck me, which unfortunately hasn’t happened yet. Hopefully someday!

Harry Potter > A Weasel and His Ferret (my Dron exclusive folder ‘cause I’m obsessed, get it? Haha! x’DDD)

(Unnamed Dron 01), (02), (03), and (04) - some random little snippets I always keep around, either to throw into another fic at some point, or to build up into their own

An Unconventional Marriage - GUYS, listen! LISTEN. I have been wanting to write this idea for YEEEAAARRRSSSS. YEARS I TELL YOU!! I think I was still in fucking college when I came up with this, and I’ve never been able to work it out. This is my idea for a Drastoria fake marriage type deal, where they’re the bestest of best friends who decide they’re gonna play the game both their families want by marrying each other, but they’re gonna stay just friends...while fucking whoever they hell they want on the down low. Obviously culminating in Dron on the Draco side of it. I want it. I need it. I CRAVE IT. I hope I actually do it someday.

Because Blaise Zabini Is An Asshole - inspired by this Tumblr post

Chocolate and Sass - A quick little oneshot idea of them meeting as little little kids, no prejudice between them, sharing a chocolate frog. Cut to them fucking, drunk on chocolate liquor as adults. Yeah. I know. But I thought it’d be fun.

I Want To Warm Her Heart - Inspired by one of my favorite White Stripes songs, I Want to be the Boy to Warm your Mother’s Heart, which has always made me think of Dron. Ron’s experiences with a very...icy (*cough*homophobic*cough*) Narcissa over the course of his relationship with Draco.

Like Fathers, Like Sons - A mid hook up Ron and Draco (post divorce, no infidelity here) walking in on a mid hook up Scorpius and Hugo.

Support - Oh my god, you guys, this one is annnnnciiiieeennnttt. I’m pretty sure I started writing it directly after my very first fic posted to AO3, like holy shit. The title is a redemption for me on a fic I wrote at 15 (which still exists on FFN, and also just so happened to be a Dron as well, but please don’t bother looking it up, haha). Lucius was assassinated in Azkaban post-war, and there’s a death threat out on Draco. Auror!Ron is assigned as his body guard during the weeks surrounding the investigation and his father’s funeral.

The Measure Of It All - a crack fic about Ron’s huge cock

TLC - Equally as ancient. Draco’s a masseuse. Ron goes to get a massage, surprised to discover who it’s with. Smut ensues. Enough said.

What Happens In Muggle London - sequel to my fic What Happens In The Forbidden Forest, in which eighth year sneaking out to go clubbing in - you guessed it - Muggle London fuckery ensues

A Match Made In Hogwarts - a multi chapter post-war matchmaker will-they-won’t-they

A Very Fine Line - the second thing I ever posted to AO3, and will probably never finish

Keeping The Faith - That time I really wanted to do a wizarding version of Jones Town.......Don’t look at me........

One Week - I remember nothing of this other than that they were going to be Auror partners, and it was going to be a challenge to myself to see how many cliches I could fit into one fic. Haha.

Switching Sides - What if Draco ended up defecting and becoming a part of the Camping Extravaganza of Deathly Hallows.........Yuuuuup.

Wishful Thinking - Can you believe I’d at one time planned on adding three more chapters to this fic? Yeah, me neither...

19 Days

(Untitled ChengYi) - Yeah, I don’t know either.

It’s Exactly What You Think - sequel to my fic It’s Not What You Think, in which I’d intended for some actual Tianshan to happen

Who I’ve Been Waiting For - I’m so out of the loop with writing for this fandom these days, I don’t fucking know...All I remember is this is supposed to be when they’re adults and Jian Yi returns. Zhengxi’s been hooking up with He Tian in the meantime. They were gonna turn into a poly thing at some point. I don’t fucking know, you guys.

Batman

(Untitled Jaydick) - What it says on the tin. Post Arkham Knight angst, reuniting, and smut.

JTHM (Johnny the Homicidal Maniac)

You Make Me Sick - Yooouuuuu guuuuyyyyysssssss!! You have no idea how badly I want to write thiiiiiisssssssss!!!! WHERE MY DISCIPLINE AT, LIKE GODDAMN. The title is a play on the Devi spin off comic, I Feel Sick. (I hope you JTHM fans out there got that, ‘cause I’m super proud of it, haha.) IF I EVER FUCKING WRITE IT, this is gonna be a Nny/Squee, but....not really. ;) Basically, the idea is that Squee kind of....discovered his sexuality? Because of Nny??? And grew into a very gay, very pain centric, confused young adult with a major crush on his old next door neighbor. Has had numerous torrid love affairs because of this that never ever ended well. It’ll start with him seeing Nny for the first time again in, like, twenty years and going into a spiral over it.

South Park

The Walking Conformists - GUUUYYYYSSSSS. Sorry to keep “guys”ing you, haha, but this. THIIIIISSSSSSSSSS. If i ever buckle down and WRITE THIS BITCH, I swear it’ll be my holy fucking grail. At least to me. CuRed. Goth kids. Road trips. Zombies. What more could you want?! I’m happy to discuss privately with any one of you who’s interested, because it’s way too much to put here, and this post is long enough as it is.

What We’ve Got - sequel to my fic What We Can’t Have

(Rockstar!Michael) - What it says on the tin. CuRed, obviously.

(Untitled Religious Boys) - Bradley/Gary Harrison. Sexual discovery. Yaaassss.

Everybody Knows - CuRed where everybody thinks they’re already dating, and of course I mean everybody knows they’re meant for each other but Michael and Pete ;)

Nobody Needs To Know - Another old as fuck WIP inspired by the SADDEST SONG IN THE WORLD from the musical The Last Five Years. If you know anything about that musical and this song, you can guess what this fic would be about. Michael cheating on Pete with Firkle. Adults all! No chan here, bitches, you know me, c’mon.

The First Step - CuRed. Holding hands on the school bus. Will be the purest thing I’ve ever written if I ever finish it. It’s a drabble, and I swear to you it’s, like, two paragraphs from being done, and I’ve just never gotten down to it.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, I have a lot of WIP...Don’t have anything in my Fests/Challenges folders at the moment, because it’s, uh, been awhile, heh heh.

I’m gonna tag my love, @violetbehaviour, because I think we’re the only two left who haven’t been tagged for this. xD But if any of you reading this are like me, and haven’t been tagged yet but really really want to be, please consider this me tagging you!

#wip meme #fangqueen speaks #fangqueen writes fanfiction

8 notes · View notes

danbevanwriting · 6 years

Text

The Ranking of Final Fantasy: Final Fantasy III

Final Fantasy III is the second game that the West didn't see an official localised version until many years later. Initially released a few years after Final Fantasy II in Japan, it was remade with a new localisation and 3D update 26 years later in 2006 on Nintendo DS. This game is important in the lineage of the series as it's the one that set the motifs of the series; Chocobos, Cid as a recurring character, Job specific actions, even some of the designs of iconic jobs that are still used today. But was the game worth the long wait for Western audiences?

The version of the game I played (and will continue to play from here on out) is the version available of Steam, which is itself a version of the mobile port. The only real differences between these versions and the DS remake is the User Interface, which I personally didn't kind too off putting despite looking a bit clunky. The content and graphics are otherwise the same as the DS version. Upfront I'll say that I like the style of the 3D remake. It retains the chibi-esque style for the characters that the series is known for during the NES/ SNES era. The world is colourful and benefits from the 3D modelling by giving the world more character through the use of added details to the floor tiles. The game was no slouch on the NES either though, it definitely improved graphics compared to previous games, with unique sprites for each job that the characters could take and battles looking more impressive than ever. It's honestly quite impressive what Square managed to do with the NES, even if there was a few assets clearly still being used from the original game (mostly world map town and castles looking very similar, and the warrior sprite being literally the same from Final Fantasy I).

Basic gameplay is untouched during the exploration of the world from previous games. You're still walking through dungeons picking up items, fighting random battles, talking to townsfolk to gather clues for how to advance forward. The wrinkle this game provided to the formula is that each character can change their 'job' whenever they want from a growing selection. This means that you're not stuck with the same class set up from the get-go like in the original game and characters more instantly specialise unlike in FF2. Bored of your current set up? Just change that White Mage to a Red Mage, or try an all offensive group of melee brawlers! In the remake the only downside to switching is that there's a 'cooling off' period after switching in which you have to fight a certain amount of battles with lowered stats before becoming normal. Stats don't carry over between jobs either, with the only permanent change being HP, which does lead to an issue where characters who didn't play much as melee characters can end the game with a disadvantageous amount of health (this is definitely something that happened to me). Overall though this is a rather fun system to experiment with, keeping me engaged throughout most of the game's playtime.

Situations that the game throws at you sometimes lead to influencing your party composition. This comes with some mixed results though. The more interesting of these is where you have to go through a dungeon while being mini, meaning that physical attacks are useless. This means that the best way through these dungeons is to bring a party of casters, which definitely mixes things up and is interesting to think and plan around. A situation which isn't as good however is during a part of the game where you're stranded in a town area and the only way to get out is to beat the boss of the area: Garuda. The problem with this part of the game is that if you don't take a party of Dragoons (which the game heavily implies you should do) then you are already dead. Only Dragoon gear is attainable and the boss' weakness is spears but this doesn't make this interesting as there's only one solution to the encounter. A similar issue occurs during a late game dungeon where the only way to get through without pulling your hair out is to bring a party of Dark Knights to stop all the normal enemies you encounter from duplicating themselves. The problem with this is that Dark Knights are basically worthless outside of this dungeon as they don't bring much of interest in terms of their abilities. The 'getting mini or turning to a toad to get in to the dungeon' gimmick also starts to wear thin by the end of the game, mostly because it wastes 2 charges of magic to get the party small or warty and then back again. It's nothing game breaking but it becomes a tired gimmick by the end of the game.

The dungeon design in general is much improved over the last game, however. Gone are the trap rooms that yielded nothing but crushed dreams and a thousand random battles. The dungeons now are a bit more linear with off shoots from the main path that more often than not have some goodies to pick up. None of them are overly complex to the point that you'd get lost and none of them ever really last too long either. Dungeons even have a bit of characteristics with them as they often have unique designs apart from a couple of the optional dungeons which are just generic cave dungeons. Otherwise they're fine, nothing to really complain about or overly praise either to be honest.

Final Fantasy III does not try to tell a story as ambitious as Final Fantasy II's, although it is still more fleshed out than the original game's. In the remake the developers tried to give each of the 4 heroes their own personality and backstory but it's rather thin and doesn't amount to much by the end. It's still more than the nothing you're given in the NES original (although your characters spoke between each other, there was never names attached to lines and they never really said anything profound). Characters in general are rather thin to be honest, there's no character dynamics I found to be memorable and even a lot of the major characters are more plot device than characters. Cid's got a wife in this one though, so that's... nice! What is interesting about the game is the world building that the game does. This isn't any more evident than when you realise that the world map you started on is only a tiny part and is actually just a small floating island in the corner of the map. You get out, and the world is covered in a thick fog that you need to disperse. It's interesting, and the build up to the Crystal Tower at the end is a fun experience as you uncover parts of the world and how the darkness has affected parts of it. The conclusion is rather limp though, with the guy you've been chasing throughout the game not actually being the last boss but actually being manipulated by an even greater threat known as the Cloud of Darkness! Gasp! This is another theme that ends up being carried forward in to the series too. Unfortunately, the Cloud of Darkness and the Crystal Tower, as cool as they are, is where I found issue with the game in general.

Up until the Crystal Tower, the game is not too hard (even with bosses in the remake attacking twice per turn) and seems overall to be well balanced. I beat most bosses on my first or second try and the fights seemed just hard enough that they were lengthy and fun. None of this is an issue until the very end of the game. You climb the Crystal Tower and nothing really poses too much of a threat: usually a good sign that you're in the right level curve to face what's coming. I reached the top, beat Xande rather easily and then Cloud of Darkness shows up and your group follows her to her realm: The World of Darkness. This is a point of no return by the way. Here, there are boss level enemies you fight in random encounters, have to fight 4 bosses with HP pools double that of Xande's, and then fight Cloud of Darkness who has 4 times his health. She has a group-wide attack originating from one of her tentacles that does massive magic damage as well as being able to attack twice herself. It's such a huge difficulty spike and it's completely unfair with it coming after a point of no return, meaning that if you fail you have to go through the whole of the Crystal Tower again, wasting a couple of hours' progress. This is such a sour note to end the game on after it being so enjoyable up until this final dungeon, it's such a shame that the game stumbles so hard on the final hurdle. It doesn't help that the way the story ends involves a contrived event that brings characters from the game with 'pure hearts of light' to help the heroes out of a jam, and for some reason, one of those characters is one of the old men who thought they were the warriors of light. A character that seemed to have been used as a joke in one of the towns. I audibly said to myself 'are you actually serious?' when it happened, it was such a bizarre plot point.

I don't wish to end this review on a sour note, however, as I can more than confidently say that the music in this game is incredible. After the disappointing showing from Final Fantasy II this is a breath of fresh air. The overworld theme has a light airy sound to it that evokes a quiet mystery, the battle themes are exciting and energetic, the boss theme is incredibly iconic. The only tracks that annoyed me were the 'liberated' theme which plays in certain towns and locations after a saving it from a major threat, and a couple of the town themes were pretty obnoxious to the point where I just wanted to get out of them as soon as I could. As it's a NES game the themes are pretty short loops, which does lessen the impact of the good songs and amplify the irritation of the lesser ones. Overall though, a big thumbs up in the music department!

To conclude then I enjoyed FF3 quite a lot overall, to the point where I stayed up late a lot to play it. I would say I enjoyed it more that the previous 2 games even though this game has flaws all of its own. The job system is great and fun but is ultimately a bit shallow, especially when comparing to games to follow (hint, hint). I would still say this is the best of the NES era games though due to it having ambition and mostly hitting the right notes, unlike Final Fantasy II. The series' biggest flaw at this point of it's life is that the plot and characters are still rather underdeveloped but they've given the games their own distinct style and gameplay that is well refined. The old games would probably be best kept to only being played by die-hard fans, even the remakes.

Current Rankings:

Final Fantasy III

Final Fantasy I

Final Fantasy II

#opinion #final fantasy #review #retro #ranking #nes #classic

12 notes · View notes

musicoccurred · 6 years

Text

Pearl Jam -The Home Shows

Who: Pearl Jam Where: The Home Shows, Seattle, WA. When: August 8, 10 2018

I've said this before and it remains true. A Pearl Jam concert is much more than just a show. It's a celebration. A celebration of music, of a long relationship and of course, life. Very few places do I feel absolutely at home but a Pearl Jam show is one of them. Certainly we're all different people but for 3 hours we're one. These Seattle shows reminded me of a pilgrimage, I'm sure there were lots of Seattle folks there but most of the people I chatted with were from other places. For me it was a bucket-list item, to see Pearl Jam in their home city, a city that gave us so much music and so many iconic bands.

These concerts, "The Home Shows," given that name because the tour takes place mainly in MLB stadiums, had a similar feel to PJ20 the 20th anniversary shows in Alpine Valley, Wisconsin in 2011. No, there weren't multiple bands on the bill, but there were multiple activities and certainly a festive vibe. The Seattle Museum of Pop Culture, aka MoPop, had an exhibit dedicated to Pearl Jam opening on the Saturday after the shows but 10c (Ten Club, Pearl Jam's fanclub) members could gain access on Thursday during the day off between shows. London Bridge Studios where Ten was recorded also had Pearl Jam specific tours and legendary concert photographer Danny Clinch had a pop up shop with photos available for autograph and purchase. Did I mention it all took place in Seattle? Not only a great city but a city full of Pearl Jam history, we're talking The Off Ramp, Moore Theater, Benaroya Hall, Showbox, Easy Street Records, the list goes on!

Wednesday, Night 1

It has become popular again for bands to have artists make posters for concerts, particularly individual posters for each show. Pearl Jam is one of the few that's always done this. It is an expensive habit and the posters are treated as currency among 10c members. For these shows there were 5 unique posters all by artists Pearl Jam has used extensively in the past. A point of contention here, at their larger shows, the band has started setting up tents to sell merch throughout the day and even on days before and after the shows. Because they are open to the public, it's safe to say there are people there buying and going straight to eBay. The lines took many hours to navigate, there has to be a better way. How about when a 10c member buys a ticket through the band's website we get a code unique to us that allows us to purchase merch online and have it shipped to our homes? Place whatever quantity limits you want, something needs to change. A highlight of waiting around in the sun all day, I met a cool young man that had traveled from Tokyo to attend his first Pearl Jam show. There were people coming to Seattle from all over the world, this guy was in for a night he won't soon forget.

Several years ago Pearl Jam shows began lasting +- 3 hours. They always played a lot of songs but when this happened they finally shed the opening act. No complaints here. At 8:30 straight up the band took the stage to a loop of "Aye Davanita" from Vitalogy and ease into "Long Road." Now PJ's MO is that they play a quiet track or two then something noisy. Not on this night, Eddie wanted it to be an intimate gathering so "Long Road" led to "Release" followed by "Low Light" and crowd favorite, the singalong "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town." Genius. How do you transition from slow and quiet into something noisy? "Corduroy" that's how. Even though it's a song that PJ play pretty much every show it remains a favorite for me. Its long intro whips the crowd into a frenzy that continued with "Go," "Do the Evolution" and the Ramones-esque "Mind Your Manners." Each setlist is crafted by Ed with input from the band to fit the venue, audience and history of the band/city. Probably the most notable moment of the show was when Eddie broke down the meaning of "Evenflow." "Evenflow" is a concert staple, performed pretty much every time they play. In the 90s it was the song people liked when they didn't like PJ. Fast drums and guitars, weird lyrics just a fun rock song. But on this night, after the band had worked hard with politicians and local businesses to raise money and awareness for Seattle's horrible homeless problems Ed opened up a bit. When the band had just formed they spent a lot of time in the Belltown/Pioneer Square areas of Seattle. They befriended another Eddie, this one a homeless African-American Vietnam Veteran with mental health problems. He was known for his wild hair and wearing a tarp like a poncho. When he was mentally present he would tell them about Vietnam and his struggles with returning to civilian life. Other times, he simply wasn't there mentally. His visits greatly affected the band and when they came back from a tour they couldn't find him. Searching all over Seattle they finally found him sleeping on concrete under a viaduct. Returning from a later tour they again couldn't find him and discovered he had passed away. Suddenly "Evenflow" makes perfect sense, Ed held on to that story for 28 years. Other highlights, Ed performed a solo rendition of Jack White's "We're Going to be Friends" in honor of teachers everywhere. During the performance, his daughters danced with their favorite teachers (clad in Mariners jerseys with Vedder on the back) behind him. During the encore Brandi Carlile joined the band for "Again Tonight" a song PJ had covered for a benefit album. I love when other musicians join Pearl Jam on stage and look out at the giant crowd with wide eyes, Brandi ever the badass, threw her head back and screamed into the Seattle sky. They closed the show with "Rockin' in the Free World" and my least favorite live song, "Yellow Ledbetter" the show clocked in at 33 songs over 3 hours.

Thursday, Day Off

I snoozed on the London Bridge Studios tickets so that was out. I was looking forward to roaming around the city and attending the Pearl Jam exhibit at MoPop. Situated near the Space Needle and the Experience Music Project, MoPop is covered in tourists. Lucky for us this was a 10c event only. Jeff Ament is the de facto historian of the band keeping massive amounts of memorabilia in a warehouse. This band kept everything. I mean EVERYTHING. They have the cassettes that Stone/Jeff and Ed mailed back and forth to begin their relationship. Seeing these in person was powerful. Pearl Jam have provided the soundtrack to my life and quite literally if those tapes didn't exist I wouldn't have been standing there all those years later. Favorite moments: seeing the typed and written lyrics and loads of Ed's notebooks, the incredible statue of Andy Wood that Jeff commissioned (more on that here) as well as posters from every show. If you're in Seattle I highly recommend seeing this exhibit.

Friday, Night 2

Again starting at 8:30 PJ opens with three slow burners, "Oceans," "Footsteps" and "Nothingman" before blasting off with "Why Go" and "Brain of J." This was going to be awesome. I love the 2nd PJ shows, all of my needs are met by the first night. Nervousness is gone, just relax and enjoy the show. This show really focused on older material, only two tracks were post 2000. The band were much looser as was the crowd. The singalongs were louder and sharper, I refrained, choosing instead to just absorb the love and energy flying around the stadium. During "I Won't Back Down," a solo tribute to the great Tom Petty, Eddie asked the crowd to turn on their cell phone flashlights so Tom could see. The result was mesmerizing. The band also honored Chris Cornell by performing "Missing," a very rare deep cut. Speaking of Cornell, Kim Thayil joined the band for "Kick Out the Jams" and later joined Steve Turner and Mark Arm of Mudhoney (and Green River!) for "Search and Destroy" and "Sonic Reducer." Favorite moments: the aforementioned songs plus Ed hosing up the intro to "Rearviewmirror" to the point the band had to stop. Ed broke into "Fernando" by Abba saying that's what he was hearing. What can I say, the guy is hilarious. Other notable moments, Mike's solo on "Evenflow" was one of the best I can remember. What a beautiful night. 36 amazing songs over 3.5 hours in the glorious Seattle night.

Setlist Night 1:

Long Road Release Low Light Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town Corduroy Go Do the Evolution Mind Your Manners Throw Your Hatred Down (Neil Young cover) Lightning Bolt Given to Fly All Those Yesterdays Even Flow Help! (The Beatles cover) (snippet) Help Help Black Setting Forth Play Video I Am a Patriot (Little Steven cover) Porch Encore: We're Going to Be Friends (The White Stripes cover) (live debut by PJ) Nothing as It Seems Let Me Sleep Breath Again Today (with Brandi Carlile) State of Love and Trust Rearviewmirror Encore 2: Wasted Reprise Better Man (with “Save It for Later” tag) Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd cover) Alive I've Got a Feeling (The Beatles cover) Rockin' in the Free World (Neil Young cover) Yellow Ledbetter

Setlist Night 2:

Oceans Footsteps Nothingman Why Go Brain of J. Interstellar Overdrive (Pink Floyd cover) Corduroy Rats In Hiding Whipping Even Flow Missing (Chris Cornell cover) (live debut by PJ) Daughter (with "W.M.A" and "It's Ok" tags) Immortality I'm Open Unthought Known Can't Deny Me Do the Evolution Lukin Porch Encore: I Won't Back Down (Tom Petty cover) (EV solo) Thin Air Better Man (with "Save It for Later" by English Beat tag) All or None Crown of Thorns (Mother Love Bone cover) Kick Out the Jams (MC5 cover) (with Kim Thayil) Spin the Black Circle Play Video Rearviewmirror (with "Fernando" (ABBA)… more ) Crazy Mary (Victoria Williams cover) Jeremy Leash Search and Destroy (Iggy and The Stooges cover) (With Kim Thayil, Steve Turner, and Mark Arm) Sonic Reducer (Dead Boys cover) (With Kim Thayil, Steve Turner, and Mark Arm) Alive Baba O'Riley (The Who cover) Yellow Ledbetter

-JS

#concert #Pearl Jam #musicoccurred

1 note · View note

clickbliss · 5 years

Text

The Caligula Effect Overdose Review

by Amr (@siegarettes)

The Caligula Effect Overdose

Developer: FURYU Corporation

Publisher: NIS America

PS4, PC, Switch

When I originally reviewed The Caligula Effect for the Vita I found it to be a dire RPG, with a half-baked story and combat that was held back by its abysmal technical performance. I questioned the merit of returning to it for a PS4 remake. Still, I was curious if any of the original game could be salvaged. So once again I found myself, like the game’s protagonists, stuck in an endless loop of high school life.

A quick refresher for those who (justifiably) skipped the original release of Caligula: during a speech welcoming the incoming class, you begin to hallucinate, seeing distortions in the world around you, and in the faces of your classmates. You’ve “graduated” and become aware of the true nature of the world, specifically, that it’s a simulation named Moebius, whose residents live an endless loop of high school life, finishing school only to return to their first year again.

Moebius is the creation of Mu, a virtual idol who seeks to bring comfort to fans of hers who’ve experienced trauma, and provide them with a world free of pain. Your attempts to escape Moebius bring you into conflict with Digiheads, people corrupted by their strong desire to escape their lives, and the Ostinato Musicians, students who compose music for Mu and seek to increase her influence. Basically, you gotta fight Vocaloid stans and artists who refuse to stop posting and log off.

To stop them each of the members of the Going-Home Club have to awaken to their inner desires, channeling their strong impulses through the Catharsis Effect, which allows them to fight back against Moebius. Basically their arms turn into guns and stuff.

It’s a loaded premise, full of interesting directions to pursue. Questions about the nature of fandom, virtual personhood, the value of pushing back against a restrictive society and particularly the endless adolescence, are all potent for thematic conflicts. The endless high school life and stunted growth that comes with escapism could easily form a strong meta-commentary, taking aim at the culture and fans of anime and games that constantly returns to high school life and sometimes feels incapable of moving on. Or it could provide commentary on a homogeneous society with little tolerance for aberrations.

Don’t worry, they don’t do anything meaningful with any of these themes. Instead characters get their catharsis by talking at length about how much they hate fat people and other inane garbage, while the main plot relitigates the value of escapism in a format that’s been done better by other games and half the isekai genre.

Overdose is largely the same story, aside from allowing you to play as a female protagonist, introducing a few characters (one of which is even more unlikable than the original cast), and adding scenarios that allow you to take sides with the Ostinato Musicians. It definitely bulks up the story, but it’s hard to argue that it meaningfully alters it. The script does get small improvements, and in one case it helps make a character read more like their awakening come as a result of strong determination, rather than having a tantrum.

Most of the meaningful revisions come as a result to changes to the UI and battle system. Functionally, it’s mostly the same, but a visual overhaul and technical changes turn make the game a lot more readable. The UI moves the grungy, noisy art direction to a more fitting pop aesthetic, with the textured black elements becoming lighter, pastel colors with slight transparencies. Battle icons also take up a lot less screen estate, letting the visuals breathe and allowing the hectic and often crowded battles more room before they turn unreadable.

Best of all, the instant battle transitions now bloom into lovely pastel arenas, with digitized effects dancing around the borders, creating a window into the setting around you. The improved presentation works strongly in Caligula’s favor, since the battle system carried me through most of my time with it. Essentially, you’re using a series of predictions to carry out a chain of up to three actions per character, attempting to inflict status effects to interrupt enemy attacks and put them into a vulnerable state.

Characters move according to turn order, but their actions occur in real time once executed, and can be fine tuned to better interact with other characters’ moves. For example, you might set one character up to they counter two enemies’ melee attacks and send them airborne, have other characters juggle them with ranged attacks, then have another follow up when the enemy is downed to finish them off. It turns battles into interesting tactical problems, which when dealt with well become spectacles of stylish combos and super moves that lend a flair that calls to mind character action games. With good decision making even bosses can be interrupted and run over with the same momentum, providing a satisfying reward for playing well.

Of course, that’s only when everything plays out the way you want. Caligula throws a wrinkle into its battle system--the predictions of the enemy moves aren’t always accurate. The stronger the enemy the more likely they’ll be able to outwit you, and having backup plans to ensure your combos go off properly is key. Characters also need time to recharge their skill points after a few turns, which requires some long term planning to make sure you aren’t standing around out of energy while the enemy runs you over. These considerations keep battles from being predictable, but also makes an already finicky system more touchy. So while higher level enemies still prove engaging, later battles, with tons of fodder enemies and a larger squad of teammates, turns into a cacophony of abilities and explosions that are honestly better left to the auto-battle option.

At its most messy, these battles still provide the main impetus to keep playing, and Overdose’s welcome makeover helped it get closer to its ambition. It’s the one part of the game I can say I found all around enjoyable. The same can’t be said for its ambitious social system, which incorporates and massive web of characters to talk to, both in person and over the game’s version of the LINE messaging app. There are literally hundreds of these NPCs, each which you can have a quick chat with to raise your affinity with, rewarding you with bonuses and unlocking other, more reserved characters in the massive relationship chart.

While I appreciate the sheer amount of effort it takes just to name these characters none of them have a unique appearance or dialogue, mostly spouting stock lines that barely make any sense. Worse, your chats with them over messenger amount to you sending them a series of random questions with no connecting throughline. I don’t know about you, but if someone kept asking if I liked strawberries or oranges then jumped to something like what my greatest fear was the next sentence I’d think they were a bot trying to get my passwords, not a relatable human being. You party doesn’t fare much better, since not even they get real conversations.

It’s even harder to escape comparisons to other high school life RPGs now, then it was at the time of its original release. Even if I’m not a fan of it, Persona 5’s shadow looms large over Caligula, since it explores similar themes and shares a history. Closer to Caligula’s scale, and maybe more relevant, Blue Reflection--Gust’s magical girl RPG--also released since then, which incorporates several similar ideas, but executes them more successfully. It’s hard not to look at the unique social media interactions and personal problems Blue Reflection gives to your schoolmates and see a better implementation of the generic, stock dialogue Caligula assigns to its high schoolers. It puts into perspective how thoughtless Caligula feels on that front.

I’m glad to see more games explore the space around modern day settings, and I’m all for more fake LINE interfaces where I can chat with friends. At the same time I can’t help but see that as a primary mode where The Caligula Effect Overdose falters. It can’t get by on the sheer novelty of the setting anymore, not with so many other notable players, and the story it tells nowhere near matches the ambition elsewhere.

Worse, it’s genuinely ugly and cruel in places where it doesn’t feel justified, and which it never earns the right to be. Every social aspect of the game is riddled with narrative shortcuts, hoping to blast through the story fast enough and overwhelm you with a massive quantity so that you don’t notice that it’s not telling a story with any substance. Overdose makes it more tolerable, and highlights the more enjoyable aspects of the combat and artwork, but in doing so ends up bringing further into focus the other places Caligula is lacking.

#caligula effect #caligula effect overdose #review #ps4 #switch #nintendo switch #rpg

1 note · View note

insideabunker · 7 years

Text

The Curve: May

May

Lexa hadn't slept that first night in Clarke's apartment. She'd stared into the quiet darkness, the only noise the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Clarke was the daughter of Jacob "Wild Man," Wechadtowski. The thought became an infinite loop, as Lexa stared at the sleeping girl curled up against her chest.

Long into the night, Lexa had wracked her brain for a way to broach the subject when morning came, bringing with it the incontrovertible realization that Clarke's secret was out. "But why on earth was it a secret?" Lexa wondered. A second date being what it was, keeping one's personal information precious was understandable. On the other hand, choosing not to mention that one's father was a famous sports icons seemed a somewhat deliberate subject to avoid. What was more, despite several opportunities she'd had to bring it up, Clarke had chosen to withhold; going so far as to play coy with Lexa.

In the wee hours of the morning, it had finally dawned on Lexa that Clarke's omission was nothing if not purposeful. Thus far, everything she'd learned about the girl had proven her to be an intensely guarded person. The reporter had apparently gone to some lengths to conceal her father's identity, and bearing that in mind, Lexa decided to put aside her many questions. She would allow Clarke to bring the subject up organically, whenever she was ready.

To that end, Lexa had remained silent about what she'd seen. When Clarke finally woke up, the pitcher pretended she'd been fast asleep all night, avoiding any glances toward the bedside table. Luckily, even with the truth lingering like an itch, there had been plenty of other things to distract her that morning.

Much to Lexa's relief, Clarke had risen sans hangover, pleased to find the pitcher's arms were still wrapped protectively around her. The blonde had been all sleepy smiles and roaming hands. It was one of the best wake-ups Lexa had had in a while, and with Clarke's fingers ghosting over Lexa's shoulder bicep, the moment had felt almost perfect for a first kiss. The brunette had leaned forward, determined not to waste her opportunity.

That was until Lexa's phone had exploded to life unapologetically, interrupting their almost moment with it's demanding alarm. A second later, Lexa had flown out of bed frantically, realizing that she was in danger of missing a meeting with her field manager. She'd hurriedly made her excuses, giving Clarke a sincerely apologetic look as she'd raced to gather her belongings.

"I had a good time last night."

"Me too."

"I'm so sorry about rushing out like this. I swear this is not representative of my normal post-sleepover behavior."

Clarke had laughed, taking the situation in stride. "And here I was beginning to think you were the cut and run type."

"No. I save that for the fifth date."

Lexa lingered in the bedroom doorway, overcome with the impulse to ask Clarke to attend the day's game. As soon as she'd issued the invitation, the mood shifted. Clarke had become distracted, excusing herself due to a weekend full of catching up on work. They attempted to rain check, discussed schedules and time off with little success. Clarke worked days, and Lexa had night games all week, followed by eight days on the road.

Clarke had stretched out in bed suggestively, adding an extra element of difficulty to Lexa's attempts at making a hasty exit. "What about the week you get back? We could do first Friday fireworks on the river."

"Sounds perfect. Text me!"

Leaning over to hug Clarke goodbye, Lexa had been rewarded instead with a sweet, soft kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"What was that for?"

"For being such gentleman last night… Gentlewoman, I mean."

"No thanks necessary," and with that and a wink, Lexa had been out the door.

By the beginning of May, the weather had finally started to turn, bringing with it the first sweltering days of the year. They passed slowly, heralding the scorching summer that was just around the corner.

More than two weeks had passed since she'd last seen Clarke, and the more Lexa thought about it, the less she knew what to make of the photograph on Clarke's nightstand. Part of her was sure that the reporter had meant for her to see it, though, on the other hand, she rationalized that Clarke had been half asleep, mostly drunk, and had probably forgotten it was there.

Even so, Clarke must have realized by now, and surely she'd be wondering if Lexa had, indeed, noticed it. And, if that was the case, why had she not mentioned it during any of their phone calls while Lexa was on the road? Was it a test? Was she waiting to make sure that Lexa was honest enough to come clean about what she'd seen? Then again, perhaps Clarke was too shy, or too private to broach the subject. The many possibilities made the pitcher's head spin.

To make matters worse, Lexa genuinely disliked withholding information, primarily when it was from someone who had just begun to trust her. It had kicked her supremely guilty conscience into overdrive, making her feel like an overinflated water balloon, fragile and ready to burst at the slightest provocation. By the first Friday of the month, she'd decided she could no longer keep the matter a secret, unwillingly. Lexa was determined to come clean to Clarke about what she knew; consequences be damned. But, before she had a chance, fate intervened on her behalf.

It began as a brief article in USA Today; a few short paragraphs tucked away in the middle of the sports section. The Mets had called up a pitcher from their farm system, a young Venezuelan with a dirty, breaking curveball that was purported to be nearly unhittable. He was handsome, talented and flashy, but what drew people's attention the most was his age. At 20, he was the youngest pitcher to start for the Mets since the Wild Man. People had been bound to liken the two to one another. It wasn't long before sports commentators were dissecting the men's similarities ad nauseum, reviving the long-dead ghost of Jacob Wechadtowski, pulling his specter from the grave, and plastering televisions and newspapers with his visage.

In the years since his strange and untimely death, Wechadtowski's name had faded from the spotlight. His the more infamous elements of his career, including his frequently raucous off-field antics, had been forgotten over time, leaving behind only the legend of his numerous records. In a week, however, all of that changed, and suddenly he was everywhere again, both a reminder of athletic greatness and a cautionary tale regarding wealth and fame achieved at a young age.

In the middle of the frenzy, a detail emerged that provided an additionally stark, almost eerie contrast between the two men. Bartolo Montillo, the Mets' new star pitcher, was revealed to have fathered a child during his time in the Mets' farm system. His progeny had been kept a secret, due in part to Montillo repeatedly failed to meet his mandated financial obligations.

The young player's defenders argued that, during his tenure in the minor leagues, Montillo had made barely enough to pay his club fees and feed himself, much less support a child. Supporters were quick to point out that, what little money he had saved had been sent to his mother and siblings in Venezuela.

Still, Montillo's detractors would have their say too, and they were quick to bring up the paramount responsibilities that were inherent to parenthood, willingly come by or not. These individuals frequently brought up the legality of Montillo's relationship with the child's mother, though he was, in fact, younger than her by her several months. Critics painted an especially hyperbolic picture of the poor example set by the pitcher, bemoaning how frequently professional athletes fathered illegitimate children who failed to support them.

And, of course, the story had immediately sparked comparisons to Wechadtowski, who had been hounded by rumors of lackluster fatherhood throughout his career. By that Friday, the media storm had culminated in a New York Times article regarding the similarities between the two men. Its characterization of the Wild Man was, to say the least, deeply unflattering.

"Wechadtowski's incredible talent, as well his colorful, on-field antics, made him a favorite among fans. In spite of his success, however, the Wild Man seemed unable to find balance or control. At his best, he was nearly untouchable, but at his worst he was confrontational and reckless, arguing with referees, and employing inside pitching to a degree that many considered negligent, even dangerous. Off the field, Wechadtowski was equally unpredictable, his hard-partying lifestyle frequently landing him in the tabloids and resulting in multiple game suspensions.

Towards the end of his career, the pitcher's behavior became even more erratic. Unprecedented winning streaks were punctuated by periods of remarkable inconsistency, during which Wechadtowski would throw wild balls, start on-field fights, and insult officials. He also fell into legal trouble, incurring several disorderly conduct charges, and injuring his pitching arm in a drunken car wreck that would ultimately cut his playing days short.

What was perhaps most troubling, however, were the rumors that Wechadtowski was an absentee parent, maintaining little if any no contact with the child he fathered at eighteen. Wechadtowski barely mentioned the relationship during his career, the famously cagey pitcher remaining tight-lipped when it came to the subject, insisting that he preferred to keep family matters a private affair. The following is the only known photograph of Wechadtowski with his daughter, Clarke Griffin, raised in Atlanta, by her mother and grandparents.”

The picture that accompanied the article showed a young, burly Wechadtowski, on the field after a decisive win, his hand held high to the crowd, and a small blond toddler clutched in one of his arms. Lexa had seen the photograph before, in the glossy pages of Mets: The Complete Photographic History. The book that had graced her family's coffee table growing up, Its pages worn and fingerprinted from countless rereading and referencing, as though it were a family Bible. Lexa had always liked the picture, imagining the little girl lucky to have such a famous, talented father. But with her childhood hero's dirty laundry airing for all the world to see, Lexa now saw the picture in a new light. The sweaty young man in the photograph looked overwhelmed, anxious even. He clutched the little girl in his arm awkwardly, as though he might break her, as though it was the first time he'd held her at all. The tiny blonde child had her face turned away, frightened by the crowd, terrified by the strange man holding her.

Lexa sat on a bench along the riverway, staring at the photograph and she balanced the newspaper on her legs. When she'd seen the New York Times article that morning, she'd been sure that she'd be receiving a call from Clarke canceling their plans. After all, what girl would want to go out after having the ghost of her absentee father dragged through the mud all week. When Clarke had texted, around noon, Lexa had been sure the message would be a polite request to raincheck. She was shocked when, instead, it had turned out to be a note confirming their plans for the evening.

Clarke snatched the remote off the counter, thrusting her hand aggressively toward the television, where impassioned sports personalities were hotly debating what was quickly becoming the bane of her day. One especially red-faced man gesticulated wildly at another, practically yelling his comments across the semi-circular desk they sat behind.

"The man was a legend, pure and simple! How he behaved in his personal life, and what kind of parent he was is beside the point."

Clarke groaned, pointing the remote at the screen and hammering the off button as hard as she could. She pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. For the most part, she'd been able to avoid the media storm the had rolled in over the past of the week. Sports shows could be ignored, as could the television news, and radio programs. It was a kind of storm she'd weathered before, and given the new city and her relative unimportance in it, she'd managed to remain comfortably anonymous, for once. That was until the morning's Times' article had mentioned her by name.

Growing up with a father whose face was frequently fixed to front pages, Clarke was indeed no stranger to public scrutiny. The unwanted attention had been her constant companion during childhood, acting as a proxy in Jacob's absence. In the years since his death, and with her decision to attend college in California, Clarke had finally begun to enjoy a degree of anonymity. It was something she'd longed for in her more formidable years, and by the time she'd moved back to Georgia for work, she was able to blend in, flying blissfully under the radar. Jacob was gone, her name was her own, and the people she surrounded herself with didn't follow baseball. In Savanah, people barely even noticed her, and Clarke reveled in the feeling of being a "nobody," rather than someone famous's poorly kept secret.

But, when Clarke arrived at work that morning, the office had been buzzing with excited chatter and whispered conversations, all of which had stopped the moment she entered. The reporter was no stranger to the feeling of walking into a room, only to realize that everyone had just been talking about her, and it didn't take long to understand what all of the spare copies of The New York Times littering the office meant.

She'd spent her lunch break locked in a supply closet, pouring over the damning article, forcing back tears of indignation at the article's callous inclusion of her private information, which was more than enough to blow her cover. Clarke's inner sense of justice raged at the nerve of the Times reporter, though she knew well that it was within his legal right to write what he had. The remainder of her day had been a have of fielding questions from overzealous co-workers, and trying to ignore people's lingering, obtrusive looks.

Clarke shook her head, clearing her mind of the fog of the terrible day. She shifted uncomfortably, checking her reflection in the hallway mirror and eyeing her worn-out jeans and the soft, old raglan. Her appearance wasn't impressive, it wasn't sexy, but it was honest, and as much as the blonde pined for the mischievous smirks that her dresses elicited from Lexa, tonight seemed like the wrong time for that kind of effort. Clarke took a deep breath, hoping that the pitcher would enjoy her in faded cotton and flats as much as she did in sundresses and heels. A moment later she caught herself, wondering why she was worrying in the first place.

"Stop that," she scolded her reflection. "It isn't even a date," she thought. "Not really." Her conscience strained against the thought, knowing its relative falsehood, though it had become a mantra of late. She found herself repeated it over and over on her walk toward River Street. "Not a date." "Not a date."

Date or not, she had bigger things to worry about that evening. The week's media storm was sure to have caught Lexa's attention, and with a newspaper article exposing her name, Clarke was going to have to address the issue, whether or not the pitcher had put two and two together by now. Clarke thought back to the last time she'd seen Lexa, nervously wondering if she'd managed to notice the old photograph in the bedroom.

She turned the corner onto River Street, making her way through the crowd until she spotted an old bench with a single occupant. Lexa was leaning casually against the old wood of the backrest, cradling a newspaper in her lap. Clarke's heart sank as she realized what the pitcher was reading.

Clarke was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to run. Whether it was to the brunette's arms seeking comfort from the awful week, or away from the awkward conversation that was waiting for her, she wasn't sure. But in either case, her feet compelled her to move in one direction or the other, and fast. She had begun to favor the later, when Lexa finally looked up, folding the paper and setting it down with a shy smile. Clarke approached Lexa slowly, half looking at her, half glancing at the sidewalk. "Hey, you."

Lexa smiled the kind of smile that was all restraint and propriety, unsure of what the appropriate reaction was. She grabbed the paper and set it aside, patting the bench for Clarke to sit down.

"Hey."

"Welcome home." Clarke sat down, giving the brunette a quick but sincere hug. She tried not to notice the warmth that radiated off of Lexa's sun-kissed skin or the way the pad of the pitcher's thumb felt as it gently stroked her arm. Clarke pulled away, barely able to make eye contact with the tanned pitcher. The girl kicked the ground anxiously as she tried to remember the speech she had prepared. Suddenly her pulse was racing. She felt the way she had coming home with a C on her middle school report card, all shame and nerves, and poorly articulated excuses. Her words began to flee her as panic took hold.

"So…"

Lexa bounced a knee up and down anxiously, feeling as though she were seven years old again, waiting for to be punished for breaking a window or tipping over a vase by accident. The overinflated balloon that was her conscience had stretched to its limit, and Lexa finally burst, mumbling through a rushed apology before Clarke had a chance to speak.

"Clarke I know about your dad."

Clarke screwed her eyes shut, frustrated with her inability to confront the topic.

"I take it that means you read the article."

"No. I mean, yes, but I knew before. I saw the picture on your bedside table the night I stayed over. I'm sorry. I should have said something sooner."

Clarke nodded slowly. "Why didn't you?"

Far too flustered to articulate the hundreds of internal conversations she'd had regarding that very question, Lexa merely shrugged. "Because I wanted to see you again. You knew I was a fan of your father, and I was worried that if I admitted it, you'd think my wanting to spend time with you was some kink."

"Is it?"

"Of course not!"

Lexa leaned back again, staring out across the water before turning back to the reporter. "Clarke, why didn't you say anything?"

Clarke's brow knit, her forehead creasing as she picked the bridge of her nose. "It's hard to explain." She considered the brunette for a moment, looking down at her feet as she continued to kick loose pebbles around with a toe.

"Did I ever tell you that I had five different boys ask me to my high school prom?"

The pitcher cocked her head, taken aback by the seemingly tangential statement. "How is that…

"All within a day of each other, no less." Clarke continued, unswayed by Lexa's confusion. "I was surprised by it because honestly, I wasn't popular. I mean, I wasn't unpopular. I suppose I had popular friends, but for the most part, I wasn't that social. I was too busy studying, or participating in student government, or doing model U.N to notice anything else."

Clarke ran a hand through her hair, glancing over at Lexa with a melancholy smirk. "It's a little cliche, but I was pretty excited at the idea that five different people could have been harboring secret crushes on me."

"But they hadn't?"

Clarke shook her head. "The next day, my best friend Octavia found out from her boyfriend that those guys all had a bet going about who could get Wild Man Wechadtowski's daughter into bed. I suppose I should have known; they were all on the baseball team. Stupid me."

Lexa frowned. "Clarke, don't say that. What those guys did was awful."

Clarke sighed, "No, it was predictable. Lexa, stuff like that defined my whole childhood. Jacob Wechadtowski's shadow followed my mother and me around everywhere we went. If he had a big game, everyone at school would ask me for an autograph. If he got into trouble, reporters would come knocking on my mother's door for a comment. If he showed up to see me, there'd be a news van camped across the street the whole time."

Lexa recoiled at the thought of the many intrusions Clarke had suffered because of her famous father. It made her regret ever feeling jealous of the little girl in the glossy photo of the Mets' history book. She studied Clarke's face, wondering how much more there was to her story.

"All that horrible stuff about him being an absentee parent, was that true?"

"It's not wrong," Clarke admitted, "but there is a lot more to the story than that."

"Would you tell me?" Lexa looked at her hopefully, not wanting to press the issue if Clarke wasn't ready to open up.

Clarke looked around nervously, surveilling the people on the sidewalk. She didn't want to seem paranoid, but after the events of the week, the conversation wasn't one she felt comfortable having out in the open. "Look, I know we said we'd do the fireworks tonight, but if this is something you want to hear, I'd feel better telling it to you in private. Would you settle for beers at my place?"

The pitcher stood, smiling as she took Clarke's hand to help her off the bench. "I thought you'd never ask."

Lexa perched on a tall stool along the kitchen island, the rigid uprightness of her back betraying her nerves as she watched Clarke lean into the depths of the refrigerator and retrieve two beers. The blonde reached reflexively towards a wall mounted opener, popping the caps off with a practiced fluidity. She slid one of the long-necks across the granite countertop to her companion, before leaning against the other side of the island, pawing at the glass of her bottle.

"So," she paused, staring at her hands absentmindedly. "What do you want to know?"

Lexa rotated the bottle of beer, focusing on the sound the tiny glass ridges along its base made as they scraped the stone counter.

"Well, I gave you my origin story. I think it's only fair you share yours."

"It's long."

"I've got time."

"You might not like what you hear."

"Try me."

Clarke studied Lexa's face, analyzing it for any sign of insincerity. Her jaw clenched as she pulled in a slow breath, her mind made up.

"Lexa, look… You have to understand that what we're talking about is privileged information shared by less than a handful of people. If I tell you this stuff, I have to know that you won't repeat it. Not to anyone. Not ever." Clarke stared hard at the pitcher, studying her face for signs understanding.

Lexa ran a hand through her hair, exhaling a breath that she felt as though she'd been holding forever. "Clarke, I don't know what happened between you and your father, but I do know what it's like to have things about you, about your life that you don't want people to know. No matter what you tell me, I won't repeat it. You have my word."

Clarke sighed, crossing her arms. "Alright, I trust you."

She took a long sip of her beer, hoping a little liquid courage would assuage her nerves. "The first thing you need to know is that my mother wasn't some random woman or a short-term girlfriend."

Clarke frowned, tapping the folded copy of the Times that was now laying on the counter between them.

"Articles like this one always seems to be insinuating that, but it's not the case at all."

"They were high school sweethearts who had known each other since they were children. Mom grew up in Madison Georgia, and my dad was from Rutledge, the next town over. That part of the story, at least, is sweet."

Lexa watched Clarke's face shifted, her mind lost in what she was saying.

"Jacob had a rough start in life. His father was in prison by the time he was born, and his mother died of cancer when he was young. His uncle Royal raised him, a guy who was a green beret in Vietnam, but never worked a steady job after that. Roy was a bit of a wild man. He hunted and fished, he drank steadily, the whole middle of the woods, bushmaster thing, and he raised Jacob the same way. He also wasn't much for rules and didn't care about school, so Jacob ended up skipping whenever he liked. Uncle Roy did teach Jacob how to play baseball and pitch, though."

Clarke smirked, thinking back to the single time she'd met her great-uncle, on a trip to Rutledge with Jacob. Royal had been heavily tattooed and had smelled of stale Marlboro Reds and cheap beer, but he'd made her laugh, and used slight of hand to pull candy bars from her ears, so she had liked him all the same.

"The older Jake got, the more out of control his behavior became."

Clarke paused, suddenly pensive. "My mother has always described him as emotionally labile. He'd be on top of the world one day and moody and irritable the next. He was in trouble a lot, mostly for drinking and causing trouble with his friend, but the police let most of it slide because he was a such a standout athlete. By the time he was a sophomore in high school talent scouts were showing up to his games."

Lexa rubbed the back of her neck, considering the characterization Clarke was providing, noting how the blonde always called her father by his first name.

"Did he treat your mother well?"

"Yes. My mom has always insisted that Jake was incredibly thoughtful, really sweet and gentle. In some ways, I think the relationship meant more to him than it did to her."

Clarke took another sip of her beer. "Which is not to say my mother didn't love him. She did a great deal. For Jake, though, my mom and baseball were his whole world. Unfortunately, my mom's father hated him, partly because he was a problem child from a troubled family, but mostly because he didn't trust Jake with his daughter."

Lexa bobbed her head, secretly thinking that Clarke's grandfather's concerns had been reasonable.

"My grandfather was a doctor, and he wanted my mom to follow in his footsteps. Just before my mother's senior year of high school, he was offered a job teaching at Emory's medical school. My mom was supposed to matriculate there in the fall, but by that time Jacob was being scouted by major league teams. My grandfather was afraid that if mom stayed with him, she'd end up dropping out of school, getting married young and ruining her life. Relocating the family to Atlanta mean putting fifty miles of distance between them, so he leaped at the opportunity."

"Since you're standing here, telling me this story, I take it the distance didn't stop your parents from seeing one another."

Clarke shook her head, smiling. "If anything it only encouraged them. Jake would drive up to see her whenever he got a chance, and my mother would sneak back to Rutledge on weekends. She'd pretend she was staying with friends when she was camped out at Uncle Roy's house with Jake."

"I'm assuming that's how you got here."

Clarke pressed her right index finger to her nose. "Correct. As soon as she told him that she was pregnant, Jacob went straight to my grandfather, and insisted that he wanted to marry my mom."

"Your grandfather must have been thrilled about that."

Clarke rolled her eyes, recounting the many times her mother had told her the story. "He was mortified. He threatened to disown my mom if she went through with it."

Clarke finished the last sip of her beer and tossed the bottle into a bin under the counter. She opened the fridge and grabbed two more, sliding one over to Lexa.

"Grandpa was old-fashioned, very prim and proper, relatively conservative. The idea of abortion was off the table, but he was convinced that he'd lose face with colleagues if people found out his unmarried, teenage daughter had gotten pregnant. When my parents graduated high school that May, he made her defer her admission to Emory, and sent her sent her to live with his sister, in Boston, for the rest of the pregnancy. That's where I was born, by the way."

She smirked. "Go, Sox."

Clarke winked at Lexa, eliciting a grimace from the native New Yorker.

"Ugh! And here I was starting to like you, Griffin."

Clarke stuck out her tongue playfully. She walked around the counter, taking a seat next to the brunette.

"Where was your father in all of this?"

"Stuck in Rutledge. As soon as he was declared eligible for the draft, he went to my grandfather to try and convince him of his good intentions."

Clark drummed her fingers on the granite counter, blowing out a steady breath. "My grandfather was an intelligent guy. He realized that if he refused to support my parents outright, it would only make them more determined to be together, so instead, he got in my father's head about his draft prospect. Grandpa pointed out that if Jake let the world know he had a baby on the way, it might sour scouts on him."

Lexa shrugged. "Why would that have mattered?"

"Maybe. My mother hadn't turned eighteen yet, and that brought legal issues into questions. My grandpa warned him that if major league scouts found out, the potential negative press could scare them away, and he might end up getting drafted low, or not at all. He also pointed out that teams were less likely to offer him a substantial bonus if they knew my father had gotten his girlfriend knocked up and was desperate for money. Anyway, what he said struck a nerve. The next time Jacob spoke to my mother, he told that they should wait until after he'd been signed to make any big decisions."

"What happened next?"

"In June, Jacob was drafted. The Mets selected him in the first round and sent him to Kingsport for Rookie ball. He played well, and halfway through the season, he got bumped up to short-season A ball, in Pittsfield Massachusetts."

"Did he get to see your mother?"

"Not exactly. Pittsfield is on the other side of the state, about two and a half hour away from Boston. Plus, you know how schedules are at that level. There are games every day and lots of traveling. He was only able to visit my mother a few times during the season, but he swore to her he'd be there when I was born."

"Was he?"

Clarke shook her head. "Their season was supposed to end in early late August, but because of weather, it ended up running long. Then his team made the playoffs. My mother was due at the end of September, so on the sly, Jake explained his situation to his field manager, who agreed to let him slip away when my mother went into labor. But, on the day that call came, he was pitching the final game of the league's championship series."

Lexa's eyes went wide as she blew out a breath, her cheeks puffing. "Wow."

"Wow, Indeed. My mother's aunt called during the seventh inning to let Jacob know what was happening, and he swore he would leave as soon as he could."

"But?" Lexa looked at Clarke incredulously.

"But, the game went extra innings, and there was a coach from the Florida State League there evaluating him. He ended up closing out the game with a win."

"And then he left?"

"Yes, but not before having a few celebratory beers in the locker room with his teammates."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Jake took the backroads to avoid getting caught, but somewhere around Belchertown he fell asleep at the wheel."

"Was he ok?"

Clarke shrugged. "He got lucky. It was late, and there wasn't anyone else out. His foot slipped off the pedal, and he rolled into a shallow ditch on the side of the road. A cop woke him up just before dawn, and he ended up getting to Boston a few hours after I was born."

"Your mother must have been furious."

"She was. It was the first time Jake been genuinely unreliable when it came to their relationship, and the fact that it had all been due to alcohol and the game wasn't irrelevant to her. Jake promised that he'd never do anything like it again, but I think the whole thing rattled my mom. After that, it was easier for my grandfather to get in her head about things. He encouraged her to think about what her future might look like if things didn't work out for Jake, and offered to let her move home. A month later we were back in Atlanta, living with my grandparents."

"Jake spent fall and winter for that year working construction back in Georgia. He was getting bumped up to Advanced-A the following season, and he wanted my mother and me to come with him. Initially, my mom agreed, but then my grandparents offered to support her and hire a nanny for me so she could honor her spot at Emory. Mom knew if she didn't go back to school she might never finish, so she decided to stay."

"How did Jake take that?"

"Not well, but he finally agreed that it was for the best, at least until his career prospects were more secure. The next season, Jake started to get some media attention. There was talk about him making the jump straight to the Majors, but he ended up getting into a fight during a game. The Mets front office decided that Jake needed more time to mature, so they sent him to the Double-A affiliate in Williamsport for their postseason, then to the Arizona Fall League. He was gone for the next eight months, and when he came back, I was walking and talking, and my mother was in school full time."

"That must have been a strange adjustment."

Clarke leaned over the counter, crossing her arms and closing one eye as she considered the statement. "I was too young to remember any of it, but I think it was for my parents. My mother said that when he came back from Arizona, Jake was different. He was moodier, easily irritated, a little possessive. He was frustrated that she was studying so much, and he'd get jealous when she spent time with friends from school. It didn't help that my grandfather made it impossible for Jake to see me when my mother wasn't around. Still, Jake was determined for us to be a family."

Clarke stopped abruptly, walking over to the stove as though she'd just remembered that a lit burner. Two canisters full of cooking utensils sat on the counter to the right, and these she pulled aside, fishing a small, frame out from between them. She resumed her seat next to Lexa, pushing it towards her.

Lexa accepted the offering with great care, handling it as though it were a rare collector's item. She peered down, examining the images inside thoughtfully. A figure lay motionless on a floral print couch, asleep with his mouth hanging wide open, He looked more boy than man, despite his strong arms and rough stubble. A tiny toddler was sprawled, belly down, across his chest, dead to the world as well. Clarke leaned over, peering down.

"When Jake got home from Arizona, I was teething and waking my mom up every few hours during the night. Jake was having trouble sleeping anyway, because of the time difference, so he volunteered to stay up with me when I was fussy."

Lexa studied the scene a moment longer. "So he was trying?"

Clarke ran a finger slowly over the glass of the frame. "He was." She turned the frame over, placing it face down on the counter.

"Jake was gone again in February. He'd been invited to the Mets spring training in Port St. Lucie, and it seemed likely that he'd be called up sooner rather than later. Still, with no guarantees that he'd be in one place for more than a few months, he and my mother started arguing about long-term plans. In the end, they agreed that she and I would stay in Atlanta until he was called up to the majors."

"That spring, Jake was added to the 40 man roster and sent to Norfolk, Virginia to play Triple A. He got the call in the middle of June, and a few weeks into July he was headed to New York City to make his Major League debut."

"Youngest Mets starting pitcher since Dwight Gooden."

"Ok, so you're a fan."

Lexa blushed, biting her lip. "Sorry."

Clarke rolled her eyes, poking Lexa in the ribs playfully to ease the awkward tension. "Anyway, I'll spare you the professional details since you already seem to know them. Jake did well, but he hated the city. He was a country boy, and New York was too big, too noisy, too full of people for him. He missed my mother and begged her to visit him. When the Mets made the postseason, she and I flew up to visit. That's when this photograph was taken."

Clarke unfolded the paper, pointing to the picture that was attached to the article. "Jake wanted to try and go public with details about my mom and me. He convinced her to let him carry me onto the field after a particularly big game. I hadn't been around Jake enough to get used to him, and by then he'd started growing that ridiculous mustache and those massive sideburns. I didn't recognize him at all, and when my mother handed me off, I got hysterical."

Clarke looked down at the newsprint. "There were a bunch of photos taken of us that day, but that was the only one where I didn't look like I was being kidnapped."

It was a funny joke, so Lexa laughed, but the sad reality of where Clarke's story riverway was becoming evident. The blonde folded the paper closed again and sighed.

"His plan backfired. We were barely a side note in articles, and seeing my picture in the newspaper made my mother nervous. It freaked her out even more that every time she and Jake were out together, photographers would follow them. She felt like they didn't have any privacy, and she was worried that he'd gotten too into partying and staying out all night. Even so, she agreed that if the Mets offered him a Major League contract at the end of the season, she and I would move up permanently to be with him."

"So why didn't you?"

"A week after we left Jake and some other players were photographed drunk at a strip club. She and Jake started fighting after that, but my mother was still planning to keep her word. When the postseason ended, the Mets signed my father to a new contract with a no-trade clause. Mother agreed to move up at the end of the school year, but a few months later the thing with the woman in New Jersey happened.

"What thing?"

"Some woman in Atlantic City claimed to be pregnant with Jacob's baby. Suddenly, that photograph," she tapped the paper again" was everywhere. People wanted to know who I was, and whether or not Jake was some lothario, leaving a slew of illegitimate children in his wake. It didn't help that reporters found out that my mother had been seventeen when Jake had gotten her pregnant. They had a field day with that one."

Unsure what to say, Lexa took a long swig of beer. She glanced at Clarke nervously, unwilling to ask the uncomfortable question that was lingering on the tip of her tongue.

Clarke seemed to realize what Lexa was thinking. "It turned out not to be true about the woman in Jersey, but the fact that it had happened convinced my mother that Jake had probably been unfaithful. He swore up and down that he hadn't slept with her, and that the whole thing was a publicity stunt, but it was too late. My mother's mind was already made up, she told Jake that it was over, and she was staying in Atlanta."

"And Jake?"

"He lost it a little bit. He accused my mother of letting my grandfather brainwash her. I think he felt like she had abandoned him. The fallout was a mess. Lawyers were hired, custody arrangements were argued over. In the end, they awarded my mother full custody of me, but Jake was allowed yearly visits. That's why he bought the apartment here. Savannah was close enough that he could see me without my mother having to put me on a plane, but far enough away that reporters wouldn't catch on to where she and I lived. Every winter break, my mother would drive me down, and I'd spend the holidays with Jacob.

"Your mom trusted him?"

"Not at first. When Mom was still in college, she would come down with me. I think she and Jacob were still on and off with each other then, but after she started medical school, she couldn't get the time off. She agreed to let me go on my own, provided I call every night and Jacob promised he wouldn't drink while I was there."

"And he kept his word?"

"He did actually. My father was different when he was around me."

A loud boom could be heard in the distance as the Friday fireworks began over the river. Clarke hunched over the counter, her elbows propping her up as she began playing with her thumbs. "He wasn't a perfect guy, but I do think he wanted to be a good father."

Lexa smiled, watching for a moment as fireworks broke in the distance. She stole a glance at the girl next to her, her blue eyes grown glassy, still preoccupied with her digits. Gently, the pitcher reached out and took one of Clarke's hands in her own, turning it over and tracing small circles into its palm before lacing their fingers together.

"What was he like, Clarke?"

Clarke sniffed, her voice cracking a little as answered the question. "Funny. He used to make me laugh so hard that I could barely breathe. He was always telling jokes or doing something silly. He was pretty patient too. I'd talk his ear off for hours, and he'd just sit there and listen, even though I think it was hard for him to hear about my life when he wasn't a part of it.

Lexa took Clarke's other hand, wrapping her long fingers around it. "What was your favorite thing about him?"

Clarke laughed. "His terrible narration. Jake was quite a slow reader, but even so, he insisted on reading me to sleep every night during my visits."

"That's pretty charming."

"That was Jake. Petty charming, but not very consistent."

"No?"

Clarke shook her head. "When we were together, he was present, focused, but when we were apart, his life always seemed to eclipse me. He'd say he was going to call after a game and then he'd fall asleep or forget. He'd promise to come to see me for school plays and soccer games, but then he'd cancel because of training or show up days late because he'd had to do an interview, or got into trouble."

Clarke wiped the beginnings of tears away from her eyes, refusing to let her emotions get the better of her. "That photograph in the bedroom, it wasn't even my birthday. Jacob missed the real party because he'd gotten arrested for being drunk in public. He showed up a week later and insisted we have another so he could celebrate with me."

Lexa felt heartbroken at the knowledge that Clarke had experienced so much disappointment so early in life. She thought of her childhood, guiltily remembering the many times she had imagined her father was something more than a town plumber, now profoundly thankful that he'd been so dependable and ordinary.

Clarke straightened up, pulling her hands from Lexa's. Her composure regained, she began clearing away the empty beer bottled on the counter. As she moved around the island, she continued to talk, her eyes never glancing up.

"When I was still little, I'd see him on the cover of tabloids and magazines, but I didn't understand any of it. Back then, he was my hero. He'd show up out of nowhere and take me out of school so we could spend the day going to the movies or getting ice cream. He'd send me gifts out of nowhere. But, the bigger his career became, the more often he got into trouble. As I started getting older, Jake's problems became more visible to me. For a while, I didn't believe any of it, but then he got his first DUI."

Lexa's brow knit, remembering her uncle and father discussing the debacle in their family's kitchen. "That was right after the world series, right?"

"Yep." the reporter continued to busy herself with straightening up the counter. "Suddenly kids at school were telling me what a jerk my father was. She paused, filling a glass with water. "It's the first time I remember being embarrassed about who my dad was."

Clarke sipped her water, tentatively looking at the woman across from her. "After the DUI, my mother insisted that a nanny had to supervise my visits to Savannah."

"He must have hated that."

"He did. He stopped coming."

Lexa's eyebrows shot up several inches. "He stopped coming all together?"

"When I was ten, he told my mother that he was going to start spending the offseason in New York. He offered to fly me up to see him, but my mom wouldn't let me go, and he didn't put up a fight about it. He still came home to see me once in a while, but his visits were getting less and less frequent. Right before my twelfth birthday, he got into that big car crash. I saw him about a month afterward. He came home for this important softball game I was playing in. Like an idiot, I got all excited, because for once he'd showed up when he'd promised to. Afterward, he took me out to dinner. I thought it was to celebrate, but instead, he ended up telling me that he thought it was best if we didn't see each other for a while."

Lexa had known the detail was coming. She remembered Clarke telling her that she hadn't had much of a relationship with her father towards the end, but somehow she'd imagined a less abrupt falling out.

"That's… That must have been so hard."

Clarke shrugged. "Actually, no. It helped. Granted, it hurt at the time, but I finally realized the kind of man Jacob was. That was the last time that I saw him before he died."

Something in Clarke's face shifted then, the lines becoming harder. Her shoulders tensed, and the muscles in her neck strained ever so slightly. "Lexa…"

Lexa held up her hands. "It's all right Clarke. We don't have to talk about the accident if you don't want to."

Clarke held in a breath. "There was no accident."

Lexa froze, suddenly understanding the oath of secrecy Clarke had asked from her. At that moment, there was nothing to be said, and so she sat, her stomach coiling as though she were watching a bomb fall from the sky.

"Lexa, my father shot himself."

Leave Comments

#clexa #clexa fanfic #clexa fic #clexa baseball au #clexaau #The 100 #the100 fanfiction #the 100 au #the 100 fanfic #clarke x lexa #clarke griffin #lexa woods

72 notes · View notes

jessicakmatt · 5 years

Text

Beat Making Tips: How to Make Beats in 7 Steps

Beat Making Tips: How to Make Beats in 7 Steps: via LANDR Blog

Everyone is making beats these days and it makes sense why.

You can be up and running in no time, all you have to do is download one of many beat making apps.

Smartphones and iPads are especially intuitive for beat making, they have that tactile element which especially lends itself to percussive creation.

But how to make beats that stand out from the crowd?

Randomly penciling something into a step sequencer isn’t likely to produce a good result.

It takes a little bit of knowledge and a lot of practice to make something that’s cool and authentic to your taste and aesthetic.

In this guide, we’ll dip into the knowledge side of beat making so you can get set up to efficiently put the time in to get better.

How to make beats in 7 steps:

Pick a DAW or groove box

Find your producer palette

Open up your DAW

Start your session

It’s tweaking time!

Make it dynamic

Throw in samples

Alright, ready to learn? Let’s go!

1. Pick a DAW or groove box

When you’re learning how to write a song the hardest thing is starting.

Learning how to make beats is a great way to get your creative juices flowing. And the more you do it the better you get at it.

The first step is to find a platform where you’ll produce your beat.

Chances are good that you’ll end up using a DAW or a groove box.

In this post, I am using Ableton Live to show you the basics of beat making, but any DAW can be used similarly to make beats.

2. Find your producer palette

Beat making is just like painting. Before you even touch the canvas you have to think about your colors.

Before opening your DAW, put together a collection of sounds. They’ll be the building blocks of your beat.

The sounds you choose will help to guide your process from the start.

There are many approaches to choosing your sounds. For this post, I’ll be focusing on two.

Sample packs

Sample packs are great if you’re wondering how to sample without getting sued.

For example, in this post we’re using samples from Beached, a sample pack available for download via LANDR Samples. Download it and you can follow along too!

Virtual instruments

The second approach is to use the instruments that come with your DAW.

For beat making specifically, you’ll use a drumrack.

Your drumrack contains all the percussive elements of your beat. You will spend time here finding the right snare, kick, high hats, claps, and more.

Virtual instruments contain high-quality samples from the best and most iconic music gear. You don’t need to save up 4000$ for a Roland TR-909.

You should always be adding to your collection by downloading free VSTs whenever you find them. Who knows when you’ll need that Frohmage.

3. Open up your DAW

Time to start building! Fire up your DAW and let’s go.

Wait up, there’s something you should know first! It will save you major headaches in the future.

Stay organized with your samples from the get-go.

If you’re using sample packs, put them all in the same folder. Name the folder something you’ll remember – like ‘SAMPLES [name of your project]’.

Once you create your Ableton session, save it right away. Put your sample folder in the Ableton project folder.

That way you’ll never run into the ‘oops your DAW can’t find your files’ problem (trust me it’s no fun).

When you decide to move the Ableton project folder all your samples will be where you need them.

Hot tip: I even have folders for my Ableton projects by month so I keep track of my progression. But that’s optional – just for the organization freaks out there (like me)!

Ok, now let’s roll!

The first thing to know is that there are two kinds of tracks in your DAW – ‘MIDI’ and ‘Audio’.

If you’re using samples drag them into an Audio track. Audio tracks are also for recording vocals or an external instrument.

Use MIDI when you’re creating beats using virtual instruments or VSTs in your DAW.

4. Start your Session

Let’s start making the beat.

Ableton has two views: Session view and Arrangement view.

Session view is the default when you open a session. The tracks are laid out vertically. Use it to drag in your samples and start playing with ideas.

Choose a drum kit from the sidebar and load it into your drumrack.

I’m going with the Kit-909 Classic. Drag it on a MIDI track. Click on the first clip slot of the track. Open up the MIDI Note Editor.Now let’s write the beat starting with the Kick Drum. I’m going for four-on-the-floor with an extra hit before the third beat.

Here’s what it sounds like:

http://blog.landr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Kick.wav

Add the Snare Drum. I’m putting it on the same beat as the Kick. It might sound weird for now but we’ll tweak the sounds in a moment.

Here’s what it sounds like with the snare:

http://blog.landr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Snare.wav

Now add another layer. I chose the Rim sound for some percussive variation.

But it can be anything you want, like a high-hat, a sample of your studio door locking, or anything else that fits.

Listen to how it sounds with the Rim:

http://blog.landr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Rim.wav

Time for some Toms. I dropped one in right after the second Kick.

Here’s the beat so far:

http://blog.landr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Tom.wav

5. It’s Tweaking Time!

Ok we’re getting somewhere! Let’s tweak some of the parameters to shape the sounds.

Click on the title bar of your drum track. Your drum device will appear at the bottom where your MIDI Editor was.

Play with the parameters of each sound in your drum kit. Experiment and find your signature style.

I’ve left the Kick as is.

For the Snare I cut a lot of the high frequencies using the High Cut knob. This makes the Snare less aggressive.

Then I lowered the ‘Snappy’ knob. I also tweaked the Tuning knob to get a frequency that fit the beat. Here are the new settings:

The volume of the Rim needed to be slightly lower so it’s not too in your face.

Always tweak until it sounds right. Most of the time the default settings won’t sound good until you switch them up.

The Tom needed to be pitched down. To pitch a sound up or down play with the Pitch knob until it fits.

I also lowered the Decay and changed the Tuning knob similar to what I did with the Kick.

Here’s how my beat sounds now:

http://blog.landr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/post-Tweak.wav

6. Make it dynamic

Making music on a grid can sound a bit robotic.

But there is a way to make your beat less rigid and more expressive in your DAW.

There is a way to make your beat less rigid and more expressive in your DAW.

In Ableton the MIDI Note Editor has a section at the bottom called MIDI Velocity Editor.

Play with the velocity to change how fast and with how much pressure a note or beat is played. This will make your beat more dynamic.

In my beat, I’ve brought down the velocity on my Tom and the third Kick. They’re more subtle because they come in slower and with a softer touch.

Listen for the subtle shifts in velocity:

http://blog.landr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/post-Velocity.wav

7. Throw in the samples

Now you’ve got a drum part going right? Great let’s keep going. Time to throw some samples in there!

Drag and drop your samples into an Audio track in Session view to listen to them.

There’s many ways to use samples in your beat.

A lot of producers will chop them up into bite-size hits and trigger them with a midi controller to find the best way to fit them into a track.

Each DAW has its own intuitive way of chopping up samples. In Ableton, you’ll use the time warp and quantize tools to sync the sample to your beat.

Alternatively, you might use the Arrangement view to place samples into your beat.

The arrangement view is a horizontal view made for composing and finishing your track. It’s great for easily dropping a sample directly into your track.

To add samples via the arrangement view select your beat from the Session view and copy it.

Switch to Arrangement view by selecting the icon with horizontal bars in the top right corner. Paste it in the Arrangement view in an Audio track.

This might be confusing but look at the walkthrough below to see how I did it.

Hot tip: select your drum clip and press Command + D (Mac) or Control + D (PC) to duplicate it quickly.

Go back to Session view and copy the sample you want to use. Paste it to the arrangement view in a new Audio Track.

Arrange your samples where they sound best. Make them shorter. Move them around. Duplicate them. Listen. Repeat. Try things out!

There’s a few common mistakes that happen during arranging so beware!Make variations of your drum loop. Go to a particular clip and remove or add some parts.

Make variations of your drum loop. Go to a particular clip and remove or add some parts.

For example: I decided to delete the Snare in the last 4 bars to create variation.

Hot tip: Grab the corner of a clip and drag it. It’ll duplicate the clip as one longer clip. This lets you easily remove a part without having to do it on each clip.

Here’s how:

Listen to your beat in a loop. Are you bobbing your head yet? Good.

Here’s the finished beat (I mastered it):

http://blog.landr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Final-Audio-v2-LANDR-Low.wav

Make a beat every day to keep your creativity flowing

Congratulations! Now you know how to make beats!

The advantage of a DAW is that you can try anything by copying, pasting, deleting and undoing (phew). Once you know the basics of beat making, make it a goal to make a beat every day.

A good beat is the foundation of any song. The genre and style are up to your imagination.

Start by finding interesting sounds to work with. Stay organized. Fire up your DAW and go!

If you need some inspiration from the pros, check out this video of Four Tet making a crazy beat in 10 minutes using Ableton.

You’re still reading this? You should be making a beat.

The post Beat Making Tips: How to Make Beats in 7 Steps appeared first on LANDR Blog.

from LANDR Blog https://blog.landr.com/how-to-build-a-beat-from-scratch/ via https://www.youtube.com/user/corporatethief/playlists from Steve Hart https://stevehartcom.tumblr.com/post/190364623099

0 notes

blkwidowsweb · 7 years

Text

Chicago Spotlight: Chicago Born with Ron Carroll

Ron Carroll is a Chicago DJ, Singer, Songwriter, Label Owner, remixer and producer who has played all around the world. He is House Music’s “Renaissance Man”. He’s worked with some of the industry’s best producers and Djs. Known for his signature singing style like a preacher earned him the nickname “Minister of Sound”. He has written and performed on some of the biggest hits in House Music and although his music is global, he never forgets his Chicago Roots. I recently had a chance to speak with Ron Carroll about his career, the state of the Chicago Music Scene and his most recent project, Chicago Born.

Black Widow: You’re a DJ, Singer/songwriter, and producer, how did all of that begin? What came first?

Ron Carroll: Within the house world, DJing came first but in my life, singing came first. You know growing up in church. I wasn’t into house music or disco at the time. I was into Rock and metal; AC/DC, Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath. Once my father, who was religious, found this out he banned it from the house. I remember going to a party at my school and there was a guy DJing. In my opinion, the DJ didn’t look so good. He wasn’t a handsome dude, he was kinda bummy but he was the DJ and I noticed people were hanging around him, kicking it with him. I was like, man….he’s not a dope looking dude but people want to be around him. I was an introverted and shy kid. Honestly, I started DJing for acceptance. Growing up I didn’t have many friends or anything like that. I started wanting to DJ to make friends and be liked. I studied that DJ all night and decided then that this was what I wanted to do. Once started learning it and doing it, my brother and I were DJing together. We had a little crew. I noticed people started being cool with me and we were doing parties at our school. From there I started to love it. Once I startedlooking and searching for music and educating myself on the craft, the love grew. From there I wanted to learn more so I started working at Trax Records, starting going to the studios at DJ international, I became obsessed with it. That’s how it all really started.

Black Widow: I’m fairly new to the songwriting genre. I’m used to writing poetry and there are differences between writing song lyrics and poems. As a singer/Songwriter, what is your favorite part of the songwriting process?

Ron Carroll: It’s all about the story. I look at poetry and songwriting in a similar light. I say that because poetry is a free-form and songwriting is a melody locked into a situation. As writers, we all rhyme and tell a story, but as songwriters, you create a melody and lock it into the groove. That’s what I do. I write the story out first. I don’t even listen to the track initially. I write it first then listen to the track. Then I attach the melody to it.

Black Widow: Do you find sometimes, the melody and the groove don’t mesh and you have to go back to the drawing board?

Ron Carroll: Of course, especially when you are working with people, everyone has their own ideas of what they want to be expressed or experienced. It’s not always a final thing. A lot of times, I’ve been sent back to the drawing board 10-12 times. I’ve just learned that it’s part of the industry…the business. It’s totally different if you are working alone. You can express yourself freely. You know…it’s my groove, my track, my song. You can do what you want.

Black Widow: Where you do get your inspiration?

Ron Carroll: I draw inspiration from real life. I can overhear a couple arguing about something and find the subject matter there. I can see something posted online and draw inspiration from that. A lot of it is personal too, things I’ve gone through and experienced.

Black Widow: I completely agree. I have found that when I’m dealing with writer's block, I tend to take a break and get out and “live” more, enjoy new experiences. It keeps me fresh creatively.

Ron Carroll: Of Course…absolutely. You have to take breaks and live to find that inspiration.

Black Widow: As a producer, with technology and all of the new advances, the music making process is different now. How has the music making process changed? Is it better or worse?

Ron Carroll: I’ll say this; the way music is made today creates sort of a laziness in creativity. The mind is not being worked or challenged. Nowadays, people just take loops and from the loops they take, they steal a keyboard line from another song….you know that’s why I respect the way Terry (Hunter) creates. You know he still wants to put in that work, in the bigger studio, adding horns, and different sounds. He still has that authentic way of creating…Same with Louie Vega. That’s why only certain people’s stuff stands out because they are really in the complete creative process.

Black Widow: Taking it to the next level with the instrumentation and utilizing these different sounds instead of relying solely on technology. It’s definitely an art form.

Ron Carroll: Absolutely!

Black Widow: As a DJ, how do you see the balance between giving the crowd what they want and introducing them to something new? Is it a challenge for you to break new music? Especially here in Chicago where we are all opinionated! (Laughter)

Ron Carroll: I learned a long time ago that people really feed off of energy. I’ve always been told I have to sell whatever I’m trying to sell. I HAVE TO SELL IT and when I look and listen to new music or new vibes, people may not dance initially because you know people like a good old familiar record or a sing-along. I get that, but if they are looking at me and I’m working it and I’m vibing off of it, regardless of the initial response, they may walk away and say, “you know there was a track he played around here, but I think I like it” and the next time they hear it they may rock with it. It’s like commercials. You see “drink Coca Cola, drink Coca Cola" every day, eventually someone is going to try Coca Cola and like it. That’s how I approach it. I think what’s killed a lot of new music from being introduced is the lack of “one regular Dj type parties. The scene here is different now. Now it’s a lot of guests DJs and 30-minute slots and such with multiple people and that’s not a lot of time to sell anything. Some of the creativity gets lost because of how the scene is today.

Black Widow: So you feel it doesn’t really allow a patron to go on a true musical journey with the DJ anymore?

Black Widow: Yeah. Think about it. You go to a club to hear “so and so DJ” because you love them and you have a ball but next week, you go to the same club and now it’s someone else and they aren’t doing the same thing. You were attracted to something and now that connection is cut off. You know you used to have those clubs like the powerhouse, music box and warehouse to get those intimate experiences with the DJs that were staples here. Then you also had those huge parties for the masses where you would have multiple DJs on the bill and you would get to hear everybody and those DJs meshed well together. For example, Mike Dunn and Tony T are examples of a true house party. Each week, people pack Reynolds to hear them play. The people who come to Reynolds know Mike and Tony and love what they are giving them so they come week after week, then that same crowd will roll to the north side when they are playing. Now the fan base doesn't mind going to check them out at different venues because they’ve set a tone and provided a weekly experience for the audience. Terry Hunter had the same thing with BANG.

Black Widow: Is that why you tend to play alone? I noticed your sets this week were pretty much just you. Is that how you prefer to play and why?

Ron Carroll: Yes and that’s what I tend to request. I feel like this, I want people to come and say, “Ron fucked up” or “Ron did his thing” and I loved it. I don’t want anyone else energy to throw mine off. I want to set the tone and if the tone is wack then it’s all on me. If I set a good tone, then it’s on me. It keeps me on my toes and makes me stay on top of my game. That’s just what I prefer and as a result, I don’t do a lot of parties.

Black Widow: Ok…so let’s talk about your latest project, Chicago Born. You have 8 completely refurbished tracks of some iconic house classics. Why did you name it Chicago Born and what made you want to take a look at these tracks again?

Ron Carroll: I believe there are younger generations and many others outside of Chicago who don’t understand the Chicago movement. They never experienced some of these songs like I did growing up. I wanted share that and introduce it to those who may not have had the same experience I did. Nowadays, things are mastered and programed better, so I took them and gave them a heavier sound that makes them current so you can play them alongside new tracks. We have various volumes coming out too. Volumes 1-10. We are just going to keep pushing them out and giving people that old vibe. It was all about recapturing my youth and sharing it with those who don’t know what that was about.

Black Widow: That leads to my next question. These songs came out when I was in grade school, so my memories are from grammar school parties and the radio primarily. What are some of your fondest memories from that time?

Ron Carroll: I loved that back then Chicago had its watermark on the world. We had our own style, sound and vision. The music felt like it was us…it was Chicago. Just like hip hop felt like New York in the beginning. Unfortunately over the years, we've allowed other cities to take credit and to a certain degree lost our identity. We started taking other cities vibes and sounds.

Black Widow: Do you think Chicago House Music has lost its signature sound?

Ron Carroll: I do. A lot of people don’t want to talk about the 90s but there was a huge gap with house music during that time because a lot of House DJ’s started playing Hip Hop. They stopped doing house and did R&B and hip hop so now the city became completely influenced by that sound which was coming out of other cities. The 90s was a crucial moment. If you notice when people talk about the older days of house, they always speak about the 80s and omit the 90s. Clubs shut down, the crowds switched…the 90s was a very critical moment. On the urban side, everyone wanted to be hip hop and we stopped creating the sounds that came from “our hoods”. While New York was doing hip hop and creating this sound that came from their hoods, we stopped doing that here. House Music was the music we made...from our experiences and from our hoods... That sound was completely us. We have to get back to that...OUR SOUND instead of the sounds from other cities to influence our music. That's how Chicago stayed innovative back then. We were the trendsetters, not the other way around.

Black Widow: In listening to Chicago Born, I have to say, War Beats is my favorite! That beat is bananas! Do you have a favorite track on the project?

Ron Carroll: Oh Thank you! Yeah War Beats, definitely and I also have to say Poindexters Groove and Born Acid.

Black Widow: This website is all about Chicago House Music and the Chicago House scene. How does being an artist from Chicago and having this rich history influence or impact you as an artist?

Ron Carroll: I love it. I take Chicago with me wherever I go. It’s a huge reason why I did Chicago Born and will continue the series with different volumes. The music and genre we created impacted the world.

Black Widow: Thank you so much Ron for taking some time to speak with me today. Continued success and blessings to you!

Ron Carroll: It was my pleasure. Thank you.

Check out my review of Ron Carroll at Club Experience Here!

Until next time,

See ya on a Dance Floor!

Black Widow

#Black Widows Web #Blkwidowsweb #Ron Carroll #Interview #Chicago House scene #Traxsource #Chicago DJs #Chicagohouse music #Chicago spotlight

0 notes

ds4design · 8 years

Text

The Best EDC Gear from SHOT Show 2017

submitted by Bernard Capulong

This past week, EDC brands you know and love came together to show off their latest and greatest gear at the industry's biggest annual trade show—SHOT Show 2017.

The show is massive, with literally tons of new products on display within the tactical, hunting, and outdoor industries.

We scoped out some of the biggest names in the EDC scene to check out what they're bringing to the table this year.

In this quick post-show recap, we're giving you a sneak peek at some of our favorite new knives, lights, and other EDC gear we saw that should definitely be on your radar.

SOG's Surprising (and Impressive) Foray Into Urban EDC

When you think of a SOG knife, you might picture something textbook tactical—blacked out, aggressive design language, maybe a tanto blade and serrations here and there. That's why a few of SOG's new offerings for this year came as a refreshing change of pace. The SOG Terminus still looks and feels like the SOG you've come to know, but it's actually a non-locking, two-hand open slipjoint knife that measures in under 3” in blade length. It gives EDCers in areas with more strict knife laws experience what SOG does best.

The new SOG Baton series of multi-tools, however, came as the biggest surprise. They've tapped IDEO (an iconic design firm behind the first Apple mouse, among many others) for design help on these. The Baton series essentially takes multi-tool implements and delivers them in an entirely new form factor that's more discreet and elegant than the butterfly design you've come to expect from a multi-tool. The smallest Q1 includes scissors and a pen, the Q2 combines a knife and flashlight, Q3 gives you pliers, and the largest Q4 packs in the most tools, including a magnetic leather carrying case with bit kit. When these come out later this year, I can see them finding their way into plenty of minimalist EDCers' pockets.

You can check out the rest of SOG's new lineup on their site.

Gerber Brings it Back Home with USA-Made Gear

This year, Gerber's committed to putting out higher quality gear with premium materials and USA made construction. We've seen glimpses of that in their recently released Center Drive multi-tool and US Assist blades, for example. One of the new USA-made knives that caught my eye was the Shark Belly. It's an ambidextrous lockback knife with a practical sheepsfoot blade. It gets its name from the “gills” on the handle. It's also surprisingly lightweight, and its wire clip rides super deep and inconspicuously.

Another new Gerber knife, the Pocket Square, was designed specifically for the urban EDCer looking for a more modern look. It sports a sub-3” blade, clean lines, large thumb lifts and a liner lock.

Lastly, fans of Gerber's tactical pen, the Impromptu, can look forward to a couple of new colorways: a gunmetal grey and a flat dark earth.

CRKT Drops Over 60 New Knives for This Year

CRKT's booth was just knives as far as the eye could see. They're really pushing their field strip technology from the Homefront to new applications with a tactical and an urban version of the knife. But out of all of the walls, I was drawn most to the new knives designed by Jesper Voxnaes. To put it lightly, he has a knack for elegantly simple, ergonomic, and utilitarian shapes in his designs. You can definitely see that in the new CRKT Pilar, a compact minimalist's folding knife.

Check out all the new knives over at CRKT's site here. If you're into flipper knives, don't miss the Voxnaes designed Vizzle and Liong Mah's Remedy.

Kershaw and Zero Tolerance Push the Envelope with Futuristic and Classic Designs Alike

You should be hyped for what's in store from Kershaw and Zero Tolerance. I know I am. That's because Kershaw is really explicitly leaning into the EDC concept, and it shows in their knives. The designs are all so different from each other but individually impressive, with many of them focused on portability or everyday utility. For example, the Reverb is Kershaw's take on an ultralight camping knife, complete with G10 and carbon fiber handles, as well as a built-in carabiner clip to attach to your keys, belt loop, or bag. The Jens Anso-designed Fraxion is a sleek flipper knife that I can see becoming popular. Another new knife, the Dividend, takes the best of both worlds from the well-received Link and the classic Leek.

In addition to their all-new designs, Kershaw is also taking excellent designs from the past and bringing them back with a vengeance. You might remember the iconic ZT0777 (and a few… “derivative” knives from other brands). The Kershaw Natrix brings the best of that award-winning design to a much more accessible price point as a production knife. Kershaw's 2017 lineup also includes a collaboration with Al Mar Knives, injecting Al Mar's classic ultralight knives with Kershaw's SpeedSafe assisted opening and flipper tech.

See the rest of the upcoming knives at Kershaw's website.

My favorite knife at the Kershaw/ZT booth had to be 0055. It's based on the GTC Airborne, a custom design by knifemaker Gus T. Cecchini known for his innovative and futuristic knives. It has so much going on, especially in its highly geometric titanium handles. But looks aside, it also features a spring loaded hidden flipper tab that makes for a uniquely awesome deployment.

Check out the rest of the ZT lineup, including some crazy collaborations and newly developed colored carbon fiber handles at the Zero Tolerance site.

More Gear to Look Forward to This Year

As a brand, Benchmade has always put out beautifully designed knives. This year, they've outdone themselves with the 781 Anthem. It's an integral knife, meaning it's machined from a single piece of solid titanium. You might've seen this on a handful of framelock knives, but the 781 is the first integral to sport Benchmade's AXIS lock.

After last year's Tread wearable and Signal outdoor tool, Leatherman's keeping things lighter and simpler with their new lineup. The Juice CS3 (shown above) and the KBx are basically pared down versions of the mid-size Juice and Skeletool series, fitting into just a single “handle.” The CS3 packs a can and bottle opener, large scissors, and corkscrew into its handle, while the KBx combines a simple locking blade with a bottle opener/pocket clip.

Victorinox Swiss Army seemed to take an “if it ain't broke, don't fix it” approach again, sticking to what they do best. They told me some of their new colorways coming out later this year, and I'm sure a lot of you will want 'em for your EDC. We're talking premium materials and neutral colors instead of the brighter shades that might not blend in with the rest of your carry. Their full-sized Swisstools got refreshed with a new and improved, all-black finish to them shown above.

It wasn't just all knives at SHOT Show. As far as lights go, most were tactical designs, but there were a few standouts from SureFire, Streamlight, and Olight that caught my eye.

SureFire continues to innovate with two-headed DBR Guardian, packed with their best technologies. One head throws light at a distance and can regulate regulate brightness at the same rate as your eyes can adjust to it using Intellibeam technology. The other head pumps out an even, floody beam for wide or up close work. You can access each head with their own respective push buttons, making operation even easier. It's like having several lights in one to handle any kind of lighting task.

Fans of Streamlight swear by a couple of their smaller lights: the Microstream and the Nano, both of which rank as two of the most popular and most carried lights on this site. The KeyMate USB marks another solid entry in their EDC-sized lineup. It's shaped like a key, but the entire key of the blade lights up. It's dual output with controls and battery indicators at the base of the key, complete with USB recharging capability and a carabiner clip for easy carrying.

Last but not least, 5.11 Tactical showed off a couple of solid new bags, as well as a few surprises. The COVRT Boxpack gets the black camo treatment in a more supple nylon makeup, but otherwise stays the same. They're also coming out with a new bag that's super low profile—especially compared to their classic RUSH series—called the Dart. See those rectangular imprints faintly peeking through its nearly blank pack exterior? That's MOLLE webbing all across the internal lining of the bag. So it boasts similar modularity to most tactical packs at the cost of slightly slower accessibility, but keeps a lower profile overall.

5.11 also teamed up with Griffin for a new set of phone cases and ultra rugged battery packs. But 5.11 was most excited to announce their new pants they've been developing for a decade, dubbed the Defender Flex jeans. I know pants aren't strictly the most relevant to EDC, but these are worth a mention—they're slim or straight leg jeans with built-in stretch for mobility, then just loaded with extra hidden pockets. For example, a longer coin pocket for a knife, and two hidden slit pockets along the back yoke for a large smartphone or even an AR mag.

Whew. Like I said before, the show was massive, so this recap doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of all the new gear coming out this year. As more of it becomes available, you'll be sure to see it here on Everyday Carry.

What new releases are you looking forward to most in 2017? Leave a comment and let me know.

1 note · View note