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succubratty · 2 years

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Lili's Kinky Diary: Two smelly girls in a grindcore gig

Hello guys, gals, they, them, and others! 💖

It's been a while since I posted my stories with Emma.

If you haven't read it already, here, you can check the three-part story that started it all: How I knew my best friend had amazing farts: PART I | PART II | PART III and final

We are on summer vacation now, visiting my hometown; my real hometown is Santiago, Chile; but I moved to California when I was ten, to LA, to be more specific.

A sad short story we moved with my little sister because my mom died of cancer, and the only family I had was here in LA, which was my uncle and my grandmother; maybe someday I'll talk about more of that, but it won't be kinky, so next time possibly.

So let's start with the main story!

I was a very die-hard metalhead girl in high school, I was from gig to gig back in those days, and I met so many cute and stunning girls, punk, emo, gothic, skin girls, and of course, metalhead girls, too.

This was pre-transition; before coming out, I was just boy-modding everywhere; just imagine a tiny femboy metalhead, a mix between a twink and cub, a twub? I was trying to get my hair to grow longer and all; I was trying so hard to look more feminine.

I had just turned 19 and was in my last year of high school. Parenthesis: I had to repeat the fifth grade because that was the year I moved to the USA.

There was a big gig with local grindcore bands; I was really into crust punk, grindcore, power violence, and other sub-genres alike in those years.

I was going to go alone because my metalhead friends (all cis het males btw) were more into power metal and progressive metal stuff; they didn't like the noisiness of grindcore, don't get me wrong, I love progressive metal too, but I also love this messy shit.

It was the perfect scenario to try a metalhead girl outfit and be lowkey; I looked on Pinterest for what thing could suit me best; checked my savings from selling pirated DVDs.

With a lot of courage, I went to the downtown distro stores in my city that also have metalhead clothing, bought some metal girl apparel, and got a basic makeup kit.

I was so happy with my outfit; I wore a mini skirt with my bullet belt, a pair of purple striped pattern stockings, and my favorite military boots; my ass looked amazing on them!

A Napalm Death tanktop; I didn't have boobs, but my collarbones looked nice, I guess?; I bought some fabulous buckled arm warmers; I loved those things!

It was everything in black, of course.

I tried simple makeup because, to be honest, I didn't know what I was doing, some foundation, mascara for my lashes, and black lipstick; I tried to do eye shadow, but I looked like a raccoon, so I removed it.

I looked very tomboyish with my pixie haircut; for the first time in years, I was happy with my look, the best decision ever.

I had to be careful because it was a total secret from my family, I lived with my grandma and my little sister back then, and I was afraid they wouldn't understand.

So I left the house without getting seen and left a note in the fridge to let my grandma know where I was.

The venue was full of crusties and street punks mostly.

I don't want to feed a stereotype, but people in punk and metal communities always make fun of crusties because they're pretty smelly or have poor body hygiene. Especially cis male crusties; this is a dumb assumption because most of the crusties I've met are so tidy.

Anyway, so I was hanging out at this gig; not going to lie, I felt lonely, I didn't know anyone, and I was afraid someone could call me out and scream slurs at me and all kinds of similar fears.

So I just took a deep breath; I told myself that nothing wrong would happen; I reached for my backpack to light a cigarette; I used to smoke a lot in those days.

And then suddenly two beautiful crusty girls appeared next to me and started talking to me, they asked me for a lighter and started chatting with me, they offered me some beer, everything was so chill between all the screamings of the bands and the big moshpit in front of us.

I was fascinated by their styles and makeup; I just wanted to try their clothes.

One of them had purple lockhawks whose name was Chloe, and the other girl had a silver curly mane that was Dominique; they had been in an open relationship for almost two years, and both had lots of cool piercings and tattoos.

Chloe was tall, almost 170 CM (like 5' 7, I think); she was 22 and studying law. Dominique was a little bit tinier than me, maybe 155 CM tall? (like 5' 1), she was 24, and she had a workshop on her clothing designs; my little lesbian heart was melting; we talked a lot of stuff, the bands, the venue, about us, and we followed each other on Instagram too.

I told them that I was still in the closet and trying to figure things out with my gender identity but that I was pretty sure that I was a lesbian girl and that my gender expression was completely femme-oriented.

They were so lovely to me; Dominique was so enchanted; she would love to try some designs on me and told me I should visit her workshop. Chloe asked me if it was my first time doing my makeup; I said "yes" with an insecure expression on my face, —Well, I would love to teach you some stuff. You have such a pretty face— softly touching my chin.

I was with heart eyes looking at Chloe because girls taller than me get me so subby Idk why, so that's when I noticed her body odor, a very soft armpit smell mixed with her sweat. I'm trying hard to focus because I'm getting numbed by her scent (and also horny, not going to lie). 🥴

Suddenly Dominique said something like —uh Chloe? Can you come to the toilet with me? Gotta pee, and these beers are making me so gassy.— So we took a break while waiting for them outside the bathroom.

I took a deep breath because, gosh! They're so kind to me and also so hot.

Was I in love already?.

An open relationship? That was so new for me, they explained how it worked for them, and I think it was pretty cool, and then the last thing that Dominique said about getting gassy made me blush a lot.

After ten minutes, the girls came back laughing and talking about how dirty was the girl's toilet. While we returned to the stage, they gave me tons of yucky details:

Chloe said between laughs —Dominique had to squat and pee with her butt in the air avoiding a massive shit that the girl before us did; she warned us she was too drunk to aim.—

And Dominique grabbed my arm and said —The thing was all over the toilet bowl's edge, while Chloe was holding the bathroom stall door while I was making a huge effort not to fall and pee inside the toilet.

My mind was like:

"Google search: how to fake disgust, error 404 not found", so I laughed with them, hoping they didn't notice how aroused I was.

Then, out of nowhere, some guy from the moshpit got pushed so hard that she stumbled with Chloe and fell over me.

I got pushed against a wall; she put her hands over it to not crush me more, but my face got sunken inside all her cleavage, and my glasses were over my forehead.

The sweat smell from her boobs and her armpit smell was all around my nose; I almost died from an orgasm right there, It was just a matter of seconds, but it occurred in slow-motion for me.

She pushed the guy back, and Dominique told him to "fuck off." —I'm sorry, Lily! Did I squash you too hard? God! You have my boob sweat all over your face, I'm sorry, I'm smelly, I know, I'm trying a new deodorant, and the thing is failing me—

She said all these things with an embarrassed expression while cleaning my face with some tissues she had in her backpack.

I was with a dizzy face trying to put my glasses back —Yeah, sure, don't worry, it happens to all of us— Inside, I was screaming, "kiss me already f*ck!".

Then Dominique told me —You gotta smell her when she doesn't wear deodorant; she's like a bit of an onion.— She was giggling, and Chloe —You naughty bitch! Don't tell her that! Your farts don't smell exactly like roses.— with her red face.

—No, they don't smell like roses, but they don't smell like onions, that's for sure.— Making a big laugh.

It took me a lot of courage to do this; Still, I put myself on the tip of my toes to tell Chloe in her ear —I like the smell of your body now, probably I'm going to like it if you don't wear deodorant too.— She looked at me with big eyes and a red face, then gave me a cute smile.

She then approached Dominique and screamed —You little skank!— and spanked her big bubble butt; it sounded deafening, and she started kissing her; then she told her something that I couldn't hear.

And I'm there looking so blushed with a little smile. Both looked at me at the same time with a flirtatious smirk, then Dominique said —You know, we had a hunch with you, Lily; you looked so cute standing there looking at the bands and at the same time so lonely; you seemed in fear, and then we knew why.—

And Chloe added —You ended up being a cute, closeted, kind little trans girl who enjoys one of the most aggressive music styles in metal.— We laughed together, and my eyes started to shine a lot.

—And you're so hot too— She finished saying this lustily, leaning forward to me, kissing my lips! She did so slowly and well; it wasn't my first kiss, but it was my first in a long time. Suddenly she leaned toward me, looking into my eyes.

My heart was racing at a hundred rpm, but I had to stop her because I was getting a boner, and it was making me feel uncomfortable.

I told her with signs what was going on, and she was like, "oh!" she giggled —I'm sorry, maybe we could do it in a safer place?— Looking at Dominique, she looked so entertained as she approached significantly closer to us —I would love to take this cute girl to a safer place— While grabbing my tank top to give me a very ominous french kiss.

Oh my god! What was going on with these girls? What was going on with her tongue?. I thought they were so amazing, and I couldn't believe this was happening to me.

Then I started to feel a powerful smell like rotten eggs, but it had a distinctive scent. I know this smell very well; it was a beer fart smell!.

When she finished her great kiss, she immediately said to me —I'm sorry I fart a lot when I kiss, oopsies; I hope you don't mind.— Giving me such a confident but horny expression. —Baby, you reek; you will scare her with your farts!— Chloe said, faking pinching her nose and making a fake angry face.

I was speechless; I needed to say something, and I exclaimed —I like your farts; I don't mind getting farted on, I mean kissed on, yeah that." Then I realized what I had said and just put my hands over my mouth because my brain was not making coherent words.

My embarrassment was so huge that l was red from the shame. The girls gave me that flirtatious look again, Chloe made a big "aww" and said I was adorable, and Dominique was looking at her cellphone. —So two bands left; we wanted to see these guys.— Showing me the flyer from the venue.

I answered enthusiastically because I also wanted to see that band; they were the main event. —I just love them! Their lyrics are like a kick on your face, and the vocalist is nuts; his growls and screams are unique.—

Dominique looked at me with a squinting smile —Oh yeah? Do you want to meet them? It's my big brother's band; he's the singer. They are chilling there, waiting for their turn to play.— And she pointed to some chill bearded, long hair dudes with black shirts drinking beer in the corner while watching the current band play.

I seriously couldn't believe it. I was so excited; I'm such a fangirl; I said yes immediately.

I met with the band, and they were so cool about everything. We drank some beers, the girls were with me the whole time, we kissed several times, kisses of three are amazing! I never got misgendered; between the aggression, the growling screams, and the crazy moshpit, it felt lovely; really, I just had a great time.

The venue started to fill up because the main event was about to begin, and then we watched them play; the thing was crazy; we went stage diving, someone spilled a big bucket of beer, and I got beer all over my tits, I stanked of beer.

So the gig ended, and Dominique said to me —You coming with us? You need to shower, you smelly girl; you can wash your clothes too, and I'll call your grandma, so she doesn't get to worry if that is okay with you.—

I was so tired, but I got blushy anyway. I just answered —Yes, I'd love to— with a soft voice and nodded.

Her big brother drove us to Dominique's apartment; Chloe had her arm over my shoulder, and indeed, she smelled like an onion, but I was in heaven.

I just rested my face over her boobs and fell asleep.

So that's it, for now.

Chloe and Dominique were my first girlfriends; they are my family and helped me start my transition; they helped me figure out my kinks in general; their kinks and fetishes have much in common with mine, but they have their favorites besides eprocto.

They took care of me in a very delicate moment of my life, and they helped me to move to study in San Francisco, where I met Emma; I won't tell you which college is, but it is an art school. 🤭

I talk to them on facetime almost every weekend, and I usually spend my summer and winter vacations with them or my grandma and sister.

Fun fact: people often think Dominique is my mom or older sister because we look alike, especially when my face started changing because of hormones.

Both are Eager to know Emma, so I wrote this entire story because it is the story I told Emma while driving to LA.

I hope Emma can get along with them too. 🥰

___________________________________________

Finally, I could update this story.

I hope you enjoyed it.

With love.

SuccuBratty 💖

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melisa-may-taylor72 · 4 years

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QUEEN BEFORE QUEEN

THE 1960s RECORDINGS

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PART 4:

THE OPPOSITION

JOHN DEACON WAS THE QUIETEST MEMBER OF A MIDLAND-BASED FIVE-PIECE WHOSE GREATEST AMBITION WAS TO PLAY ANOTHER GIG.

Initial research John S. Stuart. Additional research and text: Andy Davis.

John Deacon was the fourth and final member to join Queen. He became part of that regal household 25 years ago this month, enrolling as the band’s permanent bassist in February 1971. His acceptance marked the culmination of a six-year ‘career’ in music, much of which he spent in an amateur, Leicestershire covers band called the Opposition.

From 1965 until 1969, Deacon and his schoolmates ploughed a humble, local furrow in and around their Midlands hometown, reflecting the decade’s mercurial moodswing with a series of names, images and styles of music. The most remarkable fact about the Opposition was just how unremarkable the group actually was.

Collectively, they were an unambitious crew: undertaking precisely no trips down to London to woo A&R men; winning only one notable support slot for the army of chart bands who visited Leicester in the ‘60s (opening for Reperata & the Delrons in Melton Mowbray in 1968); and managing even to miss out on the option of sending a demo tape to any of the nation’s record labels. The band’s saving grace is its solé recorded legacy: a three-track acetate — although even this was done for purely private consumption, and has rarely been aired outside the confines of their inner circle.

It is perhaps indicative of the Opposition’s modest outlook that their most promising bid for stardom, a beat contest, was called off before they had the chance to play in the finals. For John Deacon and friends, it seems, merely being in a band was reward enough.

Considering of all of this, it’s easy to imagine the response to the following story, related in the ‘60s to one of the Opposition’s guitarists, Ronald Chester:...[ ]

...[ ] “There was a teacher who worked at Beauchamp School, which John attended, who told fortunes. They went to see her one Saturday and were told, ‘John Deacon is going to be world famous and very, very rich. Of course, they all fell about laughing. She was determined that this was going to happen. But they all thought it was a joke."

What particularly amused Deacon’s colleagues was the unlikeliness of this scenario, given the plain facts of his demeanour. John was born in Leicester in 1951, the product of affluent, middle-class, middle England. As a youngster, he was known to his friends as ‘Deaks’ and grew up to be quiet and reserved, what Mark Hodkinson referred to in ‘Queen — ‘The Early Years’ as “a ghost of a boy".

“He is basically shy,” confirms Richard Young, the Opposition’s first guitarist/vocalist, and later keyboardist. “I suppose he was quieter than the rest of us — but he was fairly static with Queen if you look at him on stage.”

Ron Chester agrees: “John was quiet by nature. His sister, Julie, was the same. Once he got going, though, he wasn’t any different from anybody else. But on first approach, you really had to coax him out of his shell. We’d have to pick him up. He couldn’t walk down the road to meet us."

CONFIDENT

Despite any lack of personal dynamics, Deacon was a capable teenager: “He was very confident," recalls another of the band’s guitarists, David Williams. “But in a laidback sort of way. He didn’t have a problem with anything. ‘Yeah, I can do that’, he’d say. We used to call him ‘Easy Deacon’, not because of any sexual preferences, but because he’d say something was easy without it sounding big-headed. I remember saying to him once, I’m going to have to knock off the gigs a bit to revise for my ‘A’ levels. What about you?’ ‘No’, he said, ‘I don’t need to. I’ve never failed an exam yet, and I’ve never revised for one’. Ultimately, he was just confident, with a phenomenally logical mind. If he couldn’t remember something, he could work it out. And, of course, he got stunning results.”

John’s earliest interest was electronics, which he studied into adulthood. He also went fishing, trainspotting even, with his father. Then music took over. After dispensing with a ‘Tommy Steele’ toy guitar, John used the proceeds from his paper round to buy his first proper instrument, an acoustic, when he was about twelve. An early musical collaborator was a school mate called Roger Ogden, who like Roger Taylor down in Cornwall, was nicknamed ‘Splodge’. But his best friend was the Opposition’s future drummer, Nigel Bullen.

“I’d first got to know John at Langmore Junior School in Oadby, just outside Leicester, in either 1957 or 1958,’' recalls Nigel. “We were both the quiet ones. We started playing music together at Gartree High School, when we were about thirteen. We were inspired by the Beatles — they made everybody want to be in a group. John was originally going to be the band’s electrician, as he called it. He used to build his own radios, before we had any amps, and he fathomed a way of plugging his guitar into his reel-to-reel tape recorder. He was always the electrical boffin."

The prime mover in the formation of the group was another Oadby boy they met on nearby Uplands Park, Richard Young. “Richard was at boarding school," recalls Nigel Bullen. “He was always the kid with the expensive bike. He played guitar, and what’s more had a proper electric, with an amplifier. He instigated getting the band together. Initially, we rehearsed in my garage, and then anywhere we could. John played rhythm to begin with. He was a chord man, the John Lennon of the group, if you like."

SWITCH

Despite his later switch to the bass, Deacon’s technique on the guitar also developed, as Dave Williams reveals: “Later on, I remember he could play ‘Classical Gas’ on an acoustic, which was a finger-picking execise and no mean feat. It’s a bit like ‘McArthur Park’, a fantastic piece of music, and when I heard it, I thought, ‘Bloody hell. You dark horse!’ Because he never showed off."

The Opposition’s first bassist was another school friend of John’s called Clive Castledine. In fact, the group made its debut at a party at Castledine’s ouse on 25th September, 1965 (their first public performance took place the...[ ]

...[ ] following month at Gartree’s school hall). Clive looked good and appreciated the kudos of being in a group, but he wasn’t up to even the Opposition’s schoolboy standards. “I was the least proficient, to put it mildly,” he admitted to Mark Hodkinson.“His enthusiasm was 100%,” adds Richard Young, “but his actual playing ability was null, so we had a meeting and got rid of him.” Deacon took over, initially playing on his regular guitar, using the bottom strings. “John was good,” Young continues. “It was no problem for him to switch to bass. He hit the right notes at the beginning of the bar, and we were a better band for it. Whereas Clive made us sound woolly, as anyone who just plonked away on any old note would, John was solid.”

DIARY

Young turned out to be the Opposition’s archivist, keeping a diary of each gig played, the equipment used, and the amounts of money earned (as indeed did John Deacon). Richard’s diary documented the day Deacon — now, of course, bassist in one of the world’s most famous groups — first picked up his chosen instrument. “In an entry for 2nd April, 1966,” says Young, “it reads, ‘We threw Clive out on the Saturday afternoon. Had a practice in Deaks’ kitchen, and Deaks went on bass. Played much better.’ John didn’t have a bass, so we went down to Cox’s music shop in King Street in Leicester, and bought him an EKO bass for £60. I paid for it, but I think he paid me back eventually.”

“John’s bass style with the Opposition was the same as with Queen,” reckons Nigel Bullen. “He never used to play with a plectrum, which was unusual, but with his fingers, which meant that his right hand is drooped over the top of the guitar. Also, he plays in an upward fashion, which I’d never seen before, certainly when we were in Leicester. Over the years, I’ve watched many bass players adopt that style. I’d say he has been copied a lot. I’ve mentioned this to him, but he doesn’t agree.”

Clive Castledine wasn’t the last member of the band to be dismissed. “The vocal and lead guitar side of the Opposition was changing all the while,” recalls Nigel. “Myself, John, and Richard Young were always there — as were Dave Williams and Ron Chester later on — but we had a succession of other musicians who I can hardly remember now. There was a guy called Richard Frew in the very early days, and a young lad called Carl, but he didn’t fit in. After we began playing proper gigs, Richard decided he wasn’t happy with his singing and wanted to move onto keyboards, so we brought in Pete Bart (formerly with another local band, the Rapids Rave) as a guitarist and vocalist. He was good, but again, didn’t last long.”

“Bart was a bit of a rocker, while we were all mods,” remarks Dave Williams. “We were impressed by mod bands like the Small Faces and the original Who. Bart seemed to come from a different era altogether.”

“Deaks had the Parka with the fur collar,” remembers Ron Chester. “And short hair, a crew cut. Mirrors on his scooter.” Richard Young agrees: “John was more of a mod than us. But you couldn’t really pigeonhole the band, because our music went right across the board”.

”Buying Deacon his bass was no one-off, and Richard Young is remembered as the group’s benefactor. Being older than the others, he had a steady job working for his father’s electronics company in Leicester, which brought him a regular, and by all accounts, generous wage. He rarely thought twice before splashing out on equipment for the other members.

RECEIPTS

“Richard bought me a P.A.,” recalls David Williams. “But he didn’t ask, he used to think that the group needed it. He’d buy it and then say, ‘You owe me this’. My mum used to get really annoyed. She’d was at that going- through-my-pockets stage, probably looking for contraceptives. She once found a receipt from Moore and Stanworth’s, a local music shop. It was for a Beyer microphone, which cost about £30. I was still at school, getting pocket money, and my mum said, ‘What on earth is this?!’ Receipts on the Sunday dinner table, that sort of thing. It was good, though. The group needed it.”

“I was dead serious about the band,” claims Young, who switched to organ with the arrival of Williams in July 1966. “Perhaps more so than anybody else. I could see it going nowhere if money wasn’t pumped into it.”

“Dick Young was an accomplished organ player,” adds Dave, “and he improved the group quite a lot. He always had plenty of dosh, and a car. But he was totally mad, a crazy bloke. He’d come round with an organ one week, then next week, he’d have a better one. He ended up with a Farfisa, with one keyboard on it, then one with two keyboards — one above the other. Then he had a Hammond, an L 100. which was really heavy. Then he had a ‘B’ series one. The ‘L’ was top-of-the-range and he sawed it in half to make it easier to carry!”

Dave Williams helped to improve the group as well. “He was at school with us,” says Nigel Bullen, “but in another band, who we always looked up to.” That band was the Leeds-based Outer Limits (who went on to issue several singles — without Dave — in the late ‘60s). “I joined the Opposition after they asked me to watch them and tell them what I thought,” recounts Dave. “The Outer Limits were older lads, all mods, but I was after something a bit more easy going, and the Opposition were my own age. They were okay, but I first saw them at John’s house, when they were still practising in bedrooms, and they were absolutely awful. I said, ‘Have you thought of tuning up?’ They said they had. But it sounded like they were playing in different keys — totally horrendous. It was so funny. They were so conscientious, they’d all learned their bits, but hadn't tuned up to each other. That was my first tip.”

“Our first proper gig was supporting a local band, the Rapids Rave, at Enderby Coop Hall,” recalls Nigel Bullen. “They used to play at this village hall every week. and then we ended up doing it every week for quite some time.” Richard’s diary records the Opposition’s debut taking place on 4th December 1965, and that the band’s fee was £2. Thereafter, they began to offer their Services in the local ‘Oadby & Wigston Advertiser’, which led to bookings in youth clubs and village halls in local hot-spots like Kibworth, Houghton-on- the-Hill, Thurlaston and Great Glen.

SCHOOL WORK

By spring 1966, the Opposition were playing every weekend, school work permitting. The peaks and troughs of their career are illustrated by the following memorable gigs: one at St. George’s Ballroom, Hinckley, on 23rd June 1967, when just two people turned up and the band went home after a couple of numbers; and a September appearance in a series of shows at U.S. Airforce Bases in the Midlands, at which they were required to play for four-and-half hours with just two twenty-minute breaks. It was nothing if not diverse.

“It didn’t seem to matter what you played,” says Dave. “People would clap simply because you were making music. They never said, ‘Do you do Motown, or soul stuff?’ ” The band’s repertoire initially consisted of chart sounds and the poppier end of the R&B spectrum. “Although we were inspired by the Beatles, we never did any of their songs,” claims Nigel. “But we covered the Kinks, the Yardbirds, and things like Them’s ‘Gloria’, and the Zombies’ ‘She’s Not There’.

They also altered their name slightly to the New Opposition, which they unveiled at the Enderby Coop Hall. “The name-change was decided overnight, when John moved from rhythm to bass guitar,” recounts Richard, whose diary records the date of the transition as 29th April 1966. Interestingly, though, it makes no mention of another local group also called the Opposition, long thought to have been the reason for Deacon’s crew adopting the ‘New’. The change did act as an impetus for further development, however, instigated by Dave Williams, who soon took over as the group’s lead vocalist.

“When I joined they were doing all Beach Boys stuff,” he recalls, “and I think I may have brought in a little credibility. In the Outer Limits, I’d been playing John Mayall, the Yardbirds, that sort of thing, plus that group was into really good soul like the Impressions, and fantastic vocal bands from the States. So I had a broad musical knowledge by then, whereas the Opposition had been a bit poppy.” Appropriately, the words “Tamla” and “Soul” were now added to the Opposition’s ads and calling cards.

Towards the end of 1966, the New Opposition were enhanced further by the arrival of Ron Chester, who’d previously played with Dave Williams in the Outer Limits, as well as in an earlier band, the Deerstalkers. “Ron Chester was a bit eccentric,” claims Richard Young. “He never used to go anywhere without his deerstalker. He was a really good guitarist (“stunning”, adds Dave Williams). We were probably at our best when Ron was in the band.”

On 23rd October 1966, the New Opposition entered the local Midland Beat Contest. They won their heat, landing themselves a place in the semifinals on 29th January 1967. They won this, too, and steeled themselves for the finals, which were due to be held on 3rd March 1967, when they were to be pitched against...[ ]

...[ ] an act called Keny. The stars of the show would have been the nearest the Opposition came to having a rival: an outfit called Legay. (A year later, incidentally, this band issued a now collectable single, “No One” (Fontana TF 904,£80J.) Unfortunately, for all concerned, however, the contest never took place. “That was a fiasco,'' laughs Ron. “Somehow we won those heats, but in fact, I don’t remember seeing anybody else playing. I don’t know whether we won by default or not. After that, they pulled the plug on the competition — probably because they knew we’d be playing again!”.

CASINO

“The heats took place in a club in Leicester called the Casino, which was the place to play,” adds Nigel. “The guy who ran the competition was an agent for the club. His company was called Penguin (or P.S) Promotions and he walked like a penguin too, with his feet sticking out. The final was going to be held in the De Montford Hall, which is still the main venue in Leicester. We thought, ‘Crumbs, this is it, perhaps we might make the big time.’ But the guy did a runner with all the money — people had to pay to come to the heats. So the final was called off.”

David Williams wasn’t too fussed, as he scored another prize that night: “I remember taking a girl back to Dick’s car on the strength of us winning our heat. I said, ‘Can I borrow your keys, Dick? He said, ‘What for? You can’t drive!’ “

Were the New Opposition — or the Opposition, as they dropped the ‘New’ again in early 1967 — left in limbo by the cancellation of the Beat Contest? Having achieved the most public recognition of their talents so far, were they disappointed with the loss of the chance to prove themselves further?

“No. It was almost insignificant,” reckons Ron. “We didn’t really look upon it as a stairway to stardom.” And what would John Deacon have thought? “Nothing really,” suggests Chester. “ ‘It’s cancelled. What are we doing next, then?’ That would have been about the depth of it. We were a village band, all gathering at the church hall to try and improve our abilities. The financial aspect of it wasn’t in the forefront of our minds. We were more concerned with our music, and if we could get a booking doing it as well, to pay off some of the equipment, then that was a real bonus. Three bookings a week was enough for us while we were working or still at school.” Despite any dodgy dealings, history does have the Penguin promoter to thank for the only professionally-taken photograph of the Opposition. (“We didn’t go much on photos in the band,” remembers Dave Williams.) On Tuesday, 31st January 1967, two days after winning the semi-finals, the ‘Leicester Mercury’ dispatched a staff photographer over to Richard Young’s parents’ house in Oadby. Here, the group lined-up in the front room, looking more like refugees from 1964, rather than 1967. The only indications of the actual date are perhaps Ron Chester’s deerstalker hat and the ridiculous length of David Williams’ shirt collars — seven inches, no less, from neck to nipple.

“Dave was very extrovert,” recalls Nigel. “But we all had those silk shirts with the great long collars made by our mums and grandmas for our stage gear.” Dave admits: “Our clothes were all a bit mixed up. We had silk shirts with tweed jackets — which were fashionable for a while — and bell-bottoms. Musically, we were pretty good, better than...[ ]

...[ ] most of the local bands around that time, but we had this squeaky-clean, schoolboy image which let us down. I used to get frustrated when we were billed with other bands, and they’d all play with so many wrong chords but had a better image and still the punters applauded. Were they stupid? We were still at school — we didn’t leave until we were eighteen — and weren’t allowed to grow our hair long”.

“After the mod thing,” he continues, “long hair became really important. Bands were growing their hair right down their backs. I remember getting to one gig with John and Nigel a year or so later, and the other group were already on. And when they saw us they turned round and said, ‘Look! They’ve got no hair!’. We were quite upset about that”.

“We also went through the flower-power look,” Dave adds. “And then we got into those little jumpers without any sleeves that Paul McCartney used to wear, the ones so small that half your stomach showed. And then it was grandad shirts without the collars and flares.” Ron Chester: “The flowery shirts and flared trousers were everywhere. We looked like a right shower of poofters. But so did everybody else. You stood out if you didn’t wear them.”

1967 also heralded the arrival of an additional attraction to the Opposition’s stage show: two go-go dancers. At least, it did if the existing literature on the subject is to be believed. “I vaguely remember it,” admits Richard, “but speaking to Nig, neither of us can recal who those dancers were”.

Dave Williams throws some light on the subject: “They were the jet-set girls of the sixth form, they came from the big houses. They came to a couple of gigs and just started dancing. Somebody who booked us for the following week actually advertised us ‘with go-go girls’. But they were never really part of the show.”

ART

On 16th March, 1968 for a gig at Gartree School, the Opposition changed their name once again. “We called ourselves Art,” reveals Nigel, “because Dave was arty, that is, he was training as an artist. It was as simple as that.” Dave agrees: “It was my idea, because I’d been doing art at school.” Nigel Bullen was aware of another band using that name around the same time (the pre-Spooky Tooth outfit), but assuming them to be American, reckoned they’d be no confusion. As the Leicester-based Art never made it to London, there wasn’t.

Despite wording like “A time to touch and feel, to taste and experience, to hear and understand” appearing on the group’s tickets, Richard maintains that Art was “just the same band” as before. “Nothing changed."

“It was mutton dressed up as lamb, really,” admits Ron Chester. “We thought if we were called something different, people might come because they were curious. But it didn’t make a lot of difference. The audiences were captive at the places we played anyway. There was nowhere else to go on a Friday or Saturday night. Everyone used to roll up to see whoever was on, whether they’d heard of them or not.”

1968 was the year psychedelia caught up with many provincial British bands. The Art were no different, but their acknowledgement of what had been last year’s scene in London was via sight rather than sound. Their light shows seem to have been particularly memorable, as Dave Williams explains: “They were brilliant. We used the projectors from school, filled medicine bottles with water and oil, and projected through them to get this lovely golden, amber backdrop. As the image came out upside down, when we poured in some Fairy Liquid, it dropped straight through in a blob, but came out on the wall like a giant green mushroom cloud. It was amazing, and we had about four of them at the back, projecting over the band.”

John Deacon was party to another of Dave’s exploits. “One day,” recalls Williams, “John and I bought a 100-watt P.A. — which was pretty big for those days — and took it into the lecture theatre full of kids at Beauchamp School (which Deacon had attended since September 1966) for our version of Arthur Brown’s ‘Fire’. We cranked it up as loud as we could, put the light show on, and let off these smoke bombs, which were DDT pellets we’d got from the chemist. All the kids started choking, and then the headmaster walked in...[ ]

...[ ] with a load of governors. You could see the fury in his face. One of the governors asked what we were doing. ‘It’s a demonstration in sound and light, sir,’ I said. ‘We’re using these ink bottles turned upside down, but we’re a bit worried about these DDT pellets so we might knock the smoke on the head, but we’re still experimenting.’ And he fell for it!”.

INFLUENTIAL

Towards the end of 1968, a crop of new groups began to have a profound effect on the maturing schoolboys: Jethro Tull, the Nice, Taste, and in particular Deep Purple. Ron: “We used to buy Purple records and learn to play them. We’d seen John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and the Downliners’ Sect in Leicester, the Nice, King Crimson. These sort of groups. We learned a lot from just watching them. They were influential. There was always a big discussion in the band as to whether we should do a particular song. Once we’d decided that, there’d be another big discussion as to how we should do it. Everybody had their say.”

Hair, too, had finally began to grow: “John grew his quite long,” recalls Ron. “We all had longish hair, but not shoulder length. We couldn’t look too unkempt for the normal side of life, but we didn’t want to be too prissy for the other end of the spectrum. That was when we started playing universities, and we went a bit heavier. The audiences were far more serious minded about music and more enthusiastic. In some of the youth clubs we’d been playing, the audience would be moving around on roller skates, or peeling bananas all over the place, things like that”.

“We felt we were making an impression towards the last year or two of the band,” he continues. But it went no further: “We were at school, some of us had jobs, and there was an element of common sense overriding what we would have liked to have done. None of us wanted to chuck in our apprenticeships or courses. If we’d had a flair for writing our own material, we might have taken off. But we just played what was popular, nothing different from most other groups. That wasn’t a basis on which to launch ourselves. So it never happened."

“We didn’t think that far ahead,” admits Richard Young. “I just thought of playing and getting repeat bookings. John was probably the least ambitious of all of us, to be honest. I think he felt that there was no mileage in what we were doing, although it was good fun. I think he had the impression that this was a hobby, a phase he was going through.”

Sometime in the Sixties, possibly 1969, but maybe earlier, Art recorded an acetate. Whatever the date, the crucial point is that John Deacon was present at the session. “We weren't asked to do it,” recalls Nigel. “We just wanted to make a disc. I think it cost us about five shillings.”

The venue was Beck’s studio, thirty miles south east of Oadby in Wellingborough, Northamptonshire. “I’d never been in a studio before and it seemed awesome, really,” recalls Dave Williams. “It was a fairly decent-sized room for acoustics. It was all nicely low-lit, with lots of screens. The guy knew what he was doing.” Richard Young was less impressed, though: I’ve been in studios all my life,” he says. “That was just another session. Nothing about it stood out.”

The “guy” Dave remembered was engineer Derek Tomkins, who informed the group that they could record three tracks in the time allotted. “We’d only gone in there with two, ‘Sunny’ and ‘Vehicle’,” says Nigel, “and we didn’t want to waste the opportunity, so Richard knocked up a little instrumental called Transit 3’ — named after our new van, the third one — right there in the studio. Although we were purely a covers band, everybody had a bash at writing, but we never did anything of our own on stage. The exception was Transit 3’, which was incorporated into the set after this session.”

“ Transit 3’ was about about the only track we ever wrote," reckons Richard Young (“Heart Full Of Soul”, as reported in ‘As It Began’, is in fact a Graham Gouldman nurnber). “I initially had the idea, but I can’t really remember anything about it. It’s very basic. It wouldn’t take a great deal of effort to write something like that.” To the objective observer, “Transit 3”, taped in mono but well recorded, is a fairly uncomplicated, organ-led scale- hopper, reminiscent of Booker T & the MGs.

“Everybody was listening to ‘Green Onions’,” confirms Nigel, “so Booker T would have been an influence there.” But for all that, it’s well- played, with memorable lead and twangy, wah-wah guitar passages courtesy of Dave Williams. And, crucially, John Deacon’s thumping bass is plainly audible throughout. On this evidence, the Opposition were clearly a tight, confident outfit. “Transit 3” could have been incorporated into any swinging ‘60s film soundtrack, and no one would have jumped up shouting, “Amateurs”!.

UNFAMILIAR

The other two tracks, covers of Bobby Hebb’s ‘Sunny' and the more obscure, soul- tinged ‘Vehicle’ (later a hit for the Ides of March), featured a vocalist, but an unfamiliar one: another of the Opposition’s fleeting frontmen. “We had a singer for a while called Alan Brown,” recalls Nigel. “He came and went fairly quickly. He was good, really good. Too good for us, I think. That wasn’t him saying that. We just knew it.”

On both songs, Brown is in deep, soulful voice, sounding not unlike a cross between Tom Jones and the early Van Morrison — if such an amalgam can be imagined. The Art’s reading of “Vehicle” is edgy and robust, dominated by Richard Young’s distinctive keyboards and Nigel Bullen’s bustling drum work. Dave Williams is again in fine form, delivering more sparkling wah-wah guitar, while on the cassette copy taped from Nigel Bullen’s acetate, at least, John’s bass is very prominent, over-recorded in fact, booming in the mix.

“Sunny” goes one better, breaking into jazzy 3/4 time halfway through, before slotting back into the more traditional 4/4. It’s an imaginative arrangement, with alternate soloing from both Dave and Richard, while the whole track is underpinned by swirls of Hammond organ and John Deacon’s pounding bass.

“We did ‘Sunny’ as part of our stage set,” says Nigel, “but I don’t recall us ever going into the jazzy bit. That’s quite interesting. We might have talked about that before we went into the studio, but I think it was just for this session. Dave had two guitars, a six-string and a twelve-string, or it could even have been twin-necked. I still quite like the wah-wah he played on that track. By this time Richard would have been onto his second or third organ — he was heavily into Hammonds and Leslies."

Operating as they did in a fairly ambition- free zone, and having prepared the listener for a mundane set of recordings with their trademark laid-back approach, Art’s acetate comes as something of a revelation. Let any bunch of today’s schoolboys loose in a studio for an afternoon and defy them to come up with something half as good!

Just two copies of the Art disc are known to have survived. John Deacon’s mother is believed to own one and Nigel Bullen has the other. “I’d forgotten all about this record,” admits Nigel. “We know that one copy was converted to an ashtray!. We stubbed out cigarettes on Richards at rehearsal one night.” Although treated with anything but respect at the time, the importance of the disc is now apparent to Nigel Bullen: “This is probably John Deacon’s first recording, apart from tracks he did in his bedroom on his reel-to-...[ ]

...[ ] reel, which are probably long gone. Although, knowing John, they’re probably not!”

The beginning of the end for Art came in June 1969, when John Deacon left Beauchamp. With a college course lined up in London, his days with the band were obviously numbered. He played his final gig with the group on 29th August at a familiar venue, Great Glen Youth and Sports Centre Club. By October, he’d moved to London to study electronics at Chelsea College of Technology, part of the University of London.

Another blow was dealt in November, when the band's lynchpin, Richard Young, left to join popular local musician Steve Fearn in Fearn’s Brass Foundry.

“They were a Blood, Sweat and Tears-type of group,” recalls Richard, “and paid better money than I’d been used to. I was out five nights a week, on about £3 per night, against an average of about £10 between us.” The previous year, Richard had played session keyboards on the Foundry’s two Decca singles: “Don’t Change It” (F 12721, January 1968, £10) and “Now I Taste The Tears” (F 12835. September 1968, £8).

SAVAGE

Ron Chester departed shortly afterwards, and gave up music: “I left in the early 70s, after John Deacon moved to London. John was replaced by a bass player was called John Savage, who unsettled me. He had different tastes and drove us a bit hard. His approach was totally different from Deaks's, and he was much more interested in the financial side of things. We’d all been mates before, we didn't just knock about for the band. It just wasn’t the same.”

Nigel, Richard and Dave pushed on into 1970 with the new bassist, changing the band’s name again, this time to Silky Way. They returned to Beck’s studio to record a cover of Free’s “Loosen Up” with another vocalist, Bill Gardener, but that was the band’s last effort. Dave left after falling into Nigel’s drumkit, drunk on stage at a private party one Christmas. “I waited for them to pick me up the next day,” he recalls sheepishly, “but they never carne.”

Richard and Nigel moved into a dinner- dance type outfit called the Lady Jane Trio — “Corny, or what!”, laughs Bullen — but Nigel left music altogether soon afterwards to concentrate on his college work. Richard turned professional, moving into cabaret with the Steve Fearn-less Brass Foundry, before forming a trio called Rio, finding regular work on the holiday camp and overseas cruise circuit. In the late ‘70s, he joined a touring version of the Love Affair.

Down in London, John Deacon caught a glimpse of his future world-beating musical partners as early as October 1970, when he saw the newly-formed Queen perform at College of Estate Management in Kensington. “They were all dressed in black, and the lights were very dim too,” he told Jim Jenkins and Jacky Gunn in ‘As It Began’, “All I could really see were four shadowy figures. They didn’t make a lasting impression on me at the time.”

While renting rooms in Queensgate, John formed a loose R&B quartet with a flatmate, guitarist Peter Stoddart, one Don Cater on drums and another guitarist remembered only as Albert. The new band was hardlv a great leap forward from Art: they wrote no originals, and when asked to perform their only gig at Chelsea College on 21st November 1970, supporting Hardin & York and the Idle Race, they hastily billed themselves — in a rare fit of self-publicity for the quiet Oadby boy — as Deacon.

A few months later in early 1971, John was introduced to Brian May and Roger Taylor by a mutual friend, Christine Farnell, at a disco at Maria Assumpta Teacher Training College. They were looking for a bassist. John auditioned at Imperial College shortly afterwards. Roger Taylor recalled Queen’s initial reaction to Deacon in ‘As It Began’: “We thought he was great. We were so used to each other, and so over the top, we thought that because he was quiet he would fit in with us without too much upheaval. He was a great bass player, too — and the fact that he was a wizard with electronics was definitely a deciding factor!”

How did the members of the Art/Opposition back in Leicester, view John’s success with Queen? “It wasn’t sudden”, says Ron Chester. “First we heard he’d got into another group. We couldn’t believe that — were they deaf? There were all these sort of jokes going along. Then we heard he’d got a recording contract and the next thing he had a record out. It was a gradual progression. No one dreamed he would end up the way he did.”

“I don’t think we expected success for any of us" admits Nigel Bullen. “Richard maybe. He was the first one to go professional. But when John left for London to go to college, he left all his kit here. I thought that was the end of it for him. He had absolutely no intention of continuing. His college course was No.1. It was only after he kept seeing adverts for bass players in the ‘Melody Maker’ that he became interested again.”

He also seemed to lose some of that ‘Easy Deacon’ touch which so impressed Dave Williams in the ‘60s. “He’d ring up these bands,” continues Nigel, “but when he found they were a name act, he bottle out. When he went to auditions for anonymous bands, where he would queue up with about thirty other bass players, he had a bit of confidence. He just wanted to play in a decent band. Once I heard what Queen had recorded at De Lane Lea, and John played me the demo of their first album, I thought they were well set.”

CABARET

By early 1973, Dave Williams had forsaken a career in animation to join Highly Likely, a cabaret outfit put together by Mike Hugg and producer Dave Hadfield on the back of their minor hit, “Whatever Happened To You (The Likely Lads Theme)”. While Dave was in the band, they recorded a follow-up single which wasn’t released, before evolving into a glam rock outfit, Razzle, which later become the Ritz, who issued a few singles. “During Queen’s early days, before they’d had any real success, John came to see us once,” recalls Dave, “and said, ‘I wish I was in a band like this which could actually play some gigs’.” Dave concludes: “I remember John coming round once around that time, saying I’ve got a demo’. ‘So have I!’, I said. So we put his on first, and the first track was ‘Keep Yourself Alive’. My mouth dropped wide open and I thought. ‘Bloody hell! What a great track’. I remember saying that the guitarist was as good as Ritchie Blackmore — who was still our hero then — and thinking ‘They’re serious about this. This is the real thing’.”

RECORD COLLECTOR Nº 198 FEBRUARY 1996

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#Queen Before Queen #Pre-Queen Series #John Deacon #The Opposition #🎤🎵🎸👑⭐

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

---------

3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out. “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream. Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #that’s the way #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x reader #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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dailyniallnews · 4 years

Text

Niall Horan: Live at The Royal Albert Hall

While some may argue that too few artists have done their bit to raise awareness for the people of the music industry who since March 2020 have been forced to stop practicing their profession, one artist who has stepped up to the plate is singer-songwriter and former One Direction star, Niall Horan. Joining forces with the crew-led organisation, We Need Crew, on 7 November 2020, the singer welcomed fans from around the globe to bear witness to a one-off performance from the eerily empty Royal Albert Hall, with all profits going to his touring family and technical entertainment charity, Backup.

In the lead up to the livestream, Horan could be found on almost every television network, promoting the show and explaining why the performance required the attention of all music lovers. In his own words: “I’m putting on this gig to raise awareness of the immense value they bring to an industry enjoyed by so many and do something to help them and their families. I ask all my fans to support them with me and buy a ticket if you can, and I encourage all artists to do the same.”

With several weeks passing since both artist and crew took over the RAH, TPi caught up with the crew behind the project and to get their thoughts on this very special event.

PRODUCTION ORIGINS…

“I remember it was a Monday morning when I got the call from Karen [Ringland] and Alice [Martin], who explained the concept of We Need Crew,” reminisced Ant Carr, Head of Production for Modest! Management. Both founders of We Need Crew explained to Carr that the goal of We Need Crew is, in association with #WeMakeEvents, to raise money for touring professionals who have fallen on hard times due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

“What really appealed about their organisation was that it was created by crew, for crew,” Carr said. “Around the same time, I was having conversations with Niall, who had already seen a few peers doing livestream performances, and we discussed the idea of performing in an iconic venue to raise awareness for the plight of the industry.”

With these two conversions in mind, Carr began to pull the pieces of would become Horan’s streamed performance together, as well as a big launch for the We Need Crew campaign. Carr and the rest of the Modest! team got to work reforming his touring family, whose album cycle had been stopped prematurely in March 2020.

“We were in LA when everything began shutting down,” stated Carr, who explained how he and the rest of the crew were in their last few weeks of promo before heading into rehearsals for Horan’s world tour. “We were finishing up a week on James Corden when the announcement came that the borders were due to be shut, so we all had to head back to the UK pretty quickly.”

After several months with no work, both Carr and the rest of the crew were all enthusiastic about getting back together to put on a very special performance. “In many ways, it was like we had never been away,” explained Production Manager, Andy Colby. “There was a part of me that thought it might have been a bit strange with it being so long since we worked together, but 30 minutes into the first rehearsal at SW19, it was like we had just got off the plane from LA.”

Colby was one of many familiar faces from Horan’s touring family who got the call to help with the livestream, alongside several technical suppliers including Wigwam and midnight:lights. KB Event provided a Megacube Artic for rehearsals in SW19 along with a Tech Kit for the show, oversaw by Lead Driver, Steve Crawley. Pulse Films and promoter, Driift were brought into the fold to make the event a reality.

In total, some 127,000 tickets for the performance were sold to 151 countries. “The response we had from fans was fantastic,” enthused Carr. “The funds raised are going to be able to help a good number of touring crew and their families and we kept this in the forefront of our mind in all aspects of the show.”

Carr was also quick to complement the attitude of the man in front of the camera. “Niall was very involved in every step of the process. He really gained a full grasp of the situation and during the promotion of the show, he really wanted to educate the public, and his fanbase, about what was going on in the sector.”

SETTING THE STAGE…

A few weeks from the broadcast date, a small group visited the Royal Albert Hall to make a start on planning how the show would come together. Lighting and Show Designer, Emma Bull and Director, Paul Dugdale led the creative vision. The livestream began with Horan performing a song on the piano on the venue’s stage, before walking down to the centre of the room to play the rest of the show in 360° in the centre of the hall. A top priority for the visual team was putting both Niall and the venue in the spotlight.

Bull elaborated: “Although several dance shows utilise the centre of the room, Paul’s Dugdale’s suggestion to do this for a music act felt fresh and was a strong starting point for the design,” she noted. “Having Niall and the band in the centre gave us a few options to really show off the building and take advantage of the fact the whole space was empty.”

One of her design ideas to make use of the space was to fill the empty boxes of the hall with lights. “It really ‘shined a light’ on the fact that there was nobody in the space,” she commented.

Aiding her in both the programming and running the show was Richard White of midnight:lights. “In total, we built 114 bespoke plinths for the audience boxes,” he stated. “On these sat a combination of Robe LED Beam 150s and Robe Spiiders.” The arrangement of these fixtures and boxes created a 360° backdrop of the central stage, with fixtures focussed into the room as well as back on themselves to flood the boxes.

The other key lighting elements included three Robe BMFL Robospots for keylight, which were placed in the venue’s gallery level. “We kept most of the control of these at the console with it being a 360° shoot,” stated White. “We were then able to shift the keylight/backlight across the fixtures as the camera tracked.” Around the central stage, the lighting team deployed SGM Q2s to provide some glowing footlights, along with Litepanel Gemini Softlights for Niall’s microphone position. “From the beginning, I knew I didn’t want there to be any rigging or trussing in the shot,” explained Bull. “We didn’t want anything to distract from the key elements of the shot – Niall and venue – to produce a clean look.” This is also why the visual department moved away from the idea of a backdrop and instead showed off the immensity of the famed venue.

Aiding both Bull and White in their endeavours was Lighting Programmer, Dan Young. In the lead up to the show, both Young and White spent several days in the previs suite at midnight:lights using Syncronorm Depence² to plan the show. “I have worked with both Dan and Richard several times and they have a great understanding of my aesthetic,” praised Bull. “I like things to be quite static in terms of colour palette with refined looks.” During the show, White oversaw the key lighting with Young programming all the moves. This gave Bull the freedom to act as a go-between between both the lighting and the stage to ensure the integrity of the design for the broadcast.

“The main challenge for this show was to provide consistent lighting over the different shooting styles,” mused White. “On one hand, we needed to have soft beauty lighting for close-up shots and steadycam work, but we also needed to make sure that the stage was physically as clear as possible for all the wide room shots and overhead wire-cam.” To add a level of accuracy, most of the live show was programmed to timecode because the visual team were situated outside of the room during the shoot.

LIGHTS, CAMERA, LIVESTREAM…

Jim Parsons was brought in by Pulse Films to assume the role of Producer. “By the time I got involved, the concept had already been fairly well developed by Emma Bull and Paul Dugdale,” Parsons began. “From my side, it was a case of getting all the video and visual elements and working out some of logistics of how we’d get the event to the finish line.”

Parsons has collaborated with Horan several times over the years. “The fact he came from the TV world means he has much more of a grasp than many of his peers of what goes into this style of performance and how to connect with fans through a camera,” he enthused.

Speaking a few weeks after the event took place, Parsons reflected on what he and the team achieved with the livestream. “We always knew we had an opportunity to do something different with this show,” he commented. “The end resulted was big and beautiful, but it was still ‘live’. It had the feel of a real show and didn’t come across prescriptive or dull.”

Parsons went on to describe the collaboration between himself and Driift, having worked together several times during 2020 on shows for Kylie Minogue and Sleaford Mods. “Ric Salmon and the rest of the Driift team are the kind of broadcasters I really like collaborating with in that they just let you get on with your work,” stated Parsons plainly. “They were obviously interested in the initial conversations and in the creative, but once it was all in place, they left us to it.”

Driift CEO, Ric Salmon offered his two cents on the project. “The fact that Niall ended up selling 127,000 tickets for the event is such a huge achievement, made all the better as it was all for such an amazing cause,” he stated. Unsurprisingly, 2020 was a busy year for Driift as the company offered livestreaming solutions for several artists. “There are almost too many benefits with this format of show,” stated Salmons while discussing the progression of livestreaming solutions that have only expanded in the past few years. “As we move forward, I think you’ll find more people opting for this style of event over, say, music videos,”

Parsons described what it was like working in the RAH. “It’s a beautiful venue, but we have all seen it thousands of times and there’s no denying that making it look different is quite a challenge. So, hats have to go off to the visual team for making this livestream look so unique.”

A Luna Remote System Junior 5 Telescopic remote compact dolly on a circular track along with a Dactylcam Pro point-to-point wire camera system captured the magic of the livestream. The spanned the periphery of central stage to present virtual audiences with a 360° view.

Camera Supervisor and joint Owner of Luna Remote Systems, Dean Clish discussed what it meant to be involved in such a prestigious show. “It was an honour to be involved in Niall’s show,” he commented. “It was for such a great cause and it’s always good to be in the Royal Albert Hall – you can’t go wrong with such a beautiful location.”

He continued to discuss why the camera selection was ideal for this type of performance. “The Junior 5 and the Dactylcam Pro are perfect for this kind of shoot because of the need to socially distance and, of course, with this sort of intimate production, they are both really unobtrusive and discreet systems,” he explained. “We’ve rigged the Dactylcam in the Royal Albert Hall before. It’s a brilliant system to use in there as you can really capture the essence of the hall from a height, in flight, in a way that you can’t with static systems.”

SOUNDING OUT…

The production brought back the audio double act of FOH Engineer, Matthew Kettle and Monitor Engineer, Joe Campbell to oversee the mix for the livestream and the band on stage. Having started working with Horan on his first solo album cycle, Kettle gave an overview of his time with the artist. “I didn’t really know what to expect before I’d heard the debut record and, as I was more known for working with rock music, I wasn’t sure I’d be the right fit,” he commented. However, with Horan’s solo music citing influences including Fleetwood Mac and Bruce Springsteen, the Engineer explained how it had been a fruitful partnership over the past three years. “Niall is really quite involved with the audio production and often during rehearsals will listen to the mixes to get a feel of what is being produced.”

Having been put on a hiatus since the tour’s cancellation in March, Kettle described what it was like to pull the pieces back together for the tour. “It’s really quite a different process producing a mix for a livestream compared to a live show,” he mused. “I have always had massive respect for broadcast engineers as it is such a different craft. When you’re mixing live in a venue, if anything goes wrong, you can fix it for the next performance. However, with a broadcast, everything is under much more of a microscope and under a great deal of scrutiny. Not only that, but you only have one shot at a show.”

Kettle explained that once he and the team entered rehearsals, they soon found their rhythm. “The approach to mixing was not too dissimilar to what we had already been working on for the tour. Just like the visual department, we didn’t want the production to be too flashy, aiming to simply reflect the intimacy of the performance without too much embellishment,” he commented.

For this reason, both Kettle and Campbell virtually replicated their audio setups they had planned to use for the world tour, featuring two DiGiCo SD5 consoles for monitors and FOH, along with Shure Axient Handhelds with Sennheiser 2000 Series IEMs, d&b audiotechnik wedges and a V-Series for side fills.

The console setup was not significantly different from the touring configuration, with multiple inputs from various SD-Racks in different parts of the stage and performance areas going to the broadcast SD5, all connected by an Opticore loop and shared with Campbell’s SD5 in monitor world. “The SD5 is my favourite console in the world,” said Campbell. “I love it and, because DiGiCo products are well proven and rock solid reliable, we rarely have to include them directly in what we do.” Cambpell was initially concerned in the lead up to the show, having not touched a desk since March. “Thankfully, Wigwam had kept the desks in pristine condition – so much so that our show files were even still loaded on the desk from the tour. This saved a great deal of time in rehearsals and certainly made it easier to get back into the saddle.”

Campbell was keen to replicate the same stage setup for Niall and the band. “During the tour, although he uses IEMs, I still have a wedge and side fills just in case he wants to take out his ears to hear the crowd,” he explained. “Even though it was a livestream with no audience, I wanted the show to feel as familiar as possible for him and the band.”

Despite a relatively “meat and potatoes” band setup, Campbell had just under 100 inputs on his desk – the result of several reverb returns and an elaborate talkback system. “Each one of the band members have a talkback mic so throughout the performance they can talk to one another and me,” he noted.

Meanwhile, Kettle’s ‘FOH’ position was slightly further away, setting up in a corridor off from the main hall. “Wigwam prepared an acoustic treatment kit so I sat at the desk with several studio monitors to mix the show and then sent my audio feed to the Pulse team,” stated Kettle. “Before going into the RAH, I was concerned with how the room would react with no audience in there to dampen the sound, but from the first sound check it sounded fantastic.”

Discussing Wigwam’s involvement with the project, Tom Bush commented: “We were all extremely proud to be supplying Niall’s livestream, especially as it was addressing the We Need Crew and #WeMakeEvents funds and highlighting what goes into putting on a production with the unseen and behind-the-scenes rolls.”

Bush went on to explain the approach to this type of performance: “A slightly different thought process can be needed – the standard positions for mixing, for example. The package wasn’t too dissimilar to the one we had ready for the world tour, so we had a good starting point. A few additions and tweaks were needed to adhere to the show setup, but Matt and Joe’s attention to detail made sure the process was smooth. The need for trucks full of PA hasn’t been required yet, but soon hopefully. We currently have a few livestreams pencilled in that we’re all looking forward to.”

#WENEEDCREW…

Looking back at the slew of 2020 livestreamed performances, Niall Horan stands out among the crowd, not only for its aesthetic, but because of everything it represented – not to mention the sizeable pot of funds it raised for the live events industry.

As we enter a new year with the live events sector entrenched in the clutches of the COVID-19 pandemic, the hope is that more musicians will follow in Horan’s footsteps to shine the spotlight on hardworking crew members that are so often out of sight and mind to the average live music lover. In the meantime, more information regarding the We Need Crew initiative can be found on www.weneedcrew.co.uk

#niall horan #article #rah live stream promo #13jan21

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fleckcmscott · 3 years

Text

Stepping Stones - Chapter 2

Chapter links: 1

Summary: Y/N and Arthur share a delightful life, one that isn’t perfect but wholly theirs. When his struggles take a serious turn, she's surprised by the toll it exacts. Though the steps they'll have to take aren't easy, walking them together makes all the difference.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Struggles with mental illness

Words: 3,739

A/N: Once again, a heartfelt thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for offering to beta-read this story and her encouragement. Her contributions have been invaluable! Also, thank you guys for your support! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. And don’t worry: there may be angst - but there’s love, too.

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! I’m still working on requests and Way Back Home!

Y/N wasn't used to being searched. It'd last happened at the District Courthouse when she'd gotten in the wrong line and nearly wound up in the jury room for a murder trial. At least the stout woman in Arkham's visitor entrance lobby was more pleasant than the bailiffs.

Unassuming in a white polo shirt and black pants, her nametag introduced her as Gladys, and the split "I Can Help!" sticker along the top cemented her as a fixture. She was friendly for a Gothamite, commenting on the sunny weather while unceremoniously dumping the contents of Y/N's handbag onto a plastic table pad. Asking about the ride over as she politely ignored tampons and confiscated a nail file. She spelled Y/N's name back to her before jotting it on the sign-in sheet and offered a genuine smile. "You have a nice time with your husband, dear. Just check out with me before you leave."

Visitor's badge pinned above her left breast, Y/N adjusted the collar of her red silk blouse, ensured the heart pendent around her neck was centered, and pushed through the door marked "Visitation."

Her kitten heels click-clacked across the checkerboard linoleum floor. The cafeteria was large, like an elementary school gymnasium without the scoreboards. Lack of funding had turned the once pristine walls to the off-white of a bathtub that had seen too few scrubbings. Large windows dotted them in sets of two, each covered with grate from the inside. Metal fans were riveted to their frames, a poor attempt to compensate for the lack of fresh air. To her left, six rows of steel tables stretched halfway across the room, about a third full of staff and patients, family members and friends. A metal buffet stood to her right, along with a sign stating a menu of beef cutlets and gravy would be served at 5:30 PM. A pony wall separated a family area on the far end. She spotted a patient with his wife and daughter watching cartoons together, ones that were old enough for Y/N to have grown up on.

It struck her how average the place felt, similar to the hospital back home she'd spent far too many hours in. It made sense: the people here were patients like any other, even if they were under lock and key. When she headed to the aluminum coffee urn on a rickety steel cart, there was a woman, around thirty, making conversation with a new wave chick, holding a ragged teddy bear and pulling her hair. Their eyes met and Y/N attempted a friendly smile. Once she'd purchased two cups, she sat by a window and crossed her legs, foot swinging back and forth as she sipped the stale liquid.

She tried to quell her nervous anticipation. Due to his time of admittance, Arthur's forty-eight-hour observation period had stretched late into Thursday night, well after visiting hours. Tasks big and small had punctuated the wait. One of Arthur's clients called to confirm a birthday party, and Y/N, hazy from lack of sleep, explained there'd been a family emergency.

Then it dawned on her that she'd have to find Arthur's gig list, which meant rummaging through his desk, a private space she'd respected since presenting him with it for their anniversary. Thank god he no longer locked the drawers, because she had no idea where he kept the key. (There were only so many hiding places in their three-room apartment, but she had no desire to search every nook and cranny.) The yellow legal pad resided in the top left drawer, under a prop catalog and kraft paper notebook. After ringing Gary and asking him to fill in ("I'm not sure I can do all these, but I can mention them at HaHa's." "That'd be great but don't get yourself in trouble. And, please, leave out Randall."), she telephoned eight households and three businesses with his contact information and apologies.

She worked extra hours in the evening to make up for the time she'd inevitably take off when Arthur was home, an arrangement that wasn't strictly legal, but she didn't see the harm in. Her colleagues graciously ignored the number of personal calls she made, to ask how Arthur was doing and learn about policies. While he wasn't yet rational, staff said, he was cooperative. Well, mostly cooperative. He'd eaten breakfast and referred to everyone as sir or ma'am, but he'd also caused a ruckus when he'd come to and found his wedding ring missing. They'd made an exception to the no jewelry rule and given it back. Personal clothing wasn't permitted, either, besides underwear, and toiletries were out of the question. It irked her - he deserved the dignity of his own hairbrush - but she didn't want to single him out by arguing for further favors. So she shuttled over a week's worth of briefs on her lunch break, chest tight as she gave it to the man with headphones at reception.

Despite the setting, despite the weight of not knowing what mood he'd be in, a thrill bubbled through her veins. Whenever a silhouette appeared behind the glue chip glass of the patient entrance, her pulse skipped. Y/N knew it was silly to expect a lot this first visit but she couldn't help it. She missed him. She missed him. Like it had been thirty days instead of three.

It took about six minutes for the door to crack an inch, and a full ten seconds for it to open completely. An orderly propped his weight against it, pointing in her general direction with his head. She stood and smoothed her palm down her A-line skirt, ensured the hem was at her knee. Maybe it was selfish, perhaps even foolish, but she hoped the surprise would be a highlight of Arthur's day, make him feel better, and she hoped seeing him would be one of hers. He was still her partner, after all. Still her Arthur. That would never change.

Clad in white scrubs and white shoes and about twenty feet away, Arthur stepped over the threshold and scanned the room. She gave him a modest wave when she caught his eye. His approach was more tentative than she would have liked, his steps shorter than usual, fists balled at his sides. As he drew closer, she noted the oiliness of his hair, the two-day black and grey stubble on his chin. His crow's feet had grown deeper, his eyelids slightly purple. Exhaustion dripped from every pore. The cut on his forehead had scabbed over into a thin line, quite modest considering its origin and how much he'd bled.

But he was as beautiful to her as always. The hint of a smile tipped her mouth. "Hi, Arthur."

"Hi," he said lowly. A reservation she barely recognized clouded his light green irises.

Part of her began to suspect popping in like this had been a mistake. Giving up wasn't in her nature, however, especially when it came to the love of her life. She forged ahead, closing the gap between them. Dr. Kellerman had advised her to let Arthur set the pace of their visits, to offer support while respecting his boundaries. Yet, touching him had become as vital to her as breathing, and it didn't occur to her to ask for permission before she reached to cup his face.

His skin felt papery under her fingertips, and red, flakey spots of dermatitis bloomed next to his nose and below his eye. He smelled of cheap bar soap and detergent, though whiffs of his woodsy masculine scent lurked underneath. But his clothes were clean and fit him well, better than half his own wardrobe. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, tracing his sharpened cheeks.

He nodded weakly, lips pursed into a grimace of disbelief. "Good."

"I got us some coffee. We can sit here or on one of the sofas."

"Here's fine."

She took his hand and led him to their table, itching for him to entwine their fingers, lamenting a little when he didn't. While he followed closely, his posture radiated tension like an oven radiated heat. Rather than the gait they'd adopted over the years, he moved as if he was afraid to touch her, as if he feared she'd disappear. Or reject him. Once he was situated and stirring sugar into his cup, she sat beside him and bumped their legs, refusing to let his fears go unchallenged. "How's your room?"

"It's okay. Just me. I'm not there much." He blew lightly on his steaming brew. "I haven't seen this part of the hospital before."

Y/N arched her brow. "No?"

"Penny had trouble getting over here to visit. When I had episodes."

Flabbergasted, a huff of disapproval escaped her. Arthur had been in out Arkham six or seven times, and Penny hadn't made it over once? According to Arthur, she'd been sick for a while, but what about twenty years ago? Even later, they hadn't had any money, which meant she would've had to care for herself while he was away. If she had had the wherewithal to go through the process of committing her son, couldn't she have at least called a cab? Y/N pushed her ire aside, not wanting it to affect Arthur. "Did you see your therapist today?"

"Mhm."

"Is he good? Does he listen to you?"

"He's fine."

She took a long drink. "Did you get the underwear I brought over?"

"Yeah." he sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "They wrote my name on the waistband."

"I'll get new ones," she said, tapping her chin in contemplation, opting for a little cheer. "Donahue's has a racy number from Mad Mod. How'd you feel about zig-zag bikinis in maroon?" Instead of the laugh she'd craved, the incredulous smirk he saved for ridiculous suggestions, his knees quaked, bouncing and bouncing, freshly wound springs in bleached cotton.

None of this was going as she'd pictured.

Self-consciousness was atypical for her, a personality trait she'd shed in her late twenties after a failed marriage and the beginning of her parents' declines. Being with Arthur felt secure, open, even during his worst days. When he'd discovered his mother's Arkham file, learned the details of his abuse. Or the weeks after she'd passed and any chance of finding out more about himself, the truth about his father and chance to get a crumb of paternal affection, had died along with her.

Gathered at this table with her husband and bad coffee, old insecurities returned with the force of a subway careening at full speed. She sought to encourage him but didn't want to dismiss his feelings, harken back when he'd been burdened with "Happy." Her questions were obviously getting on his nerves - she was at a loss as to how he'd react to more of them. Their banter had vanished. The clues she had to follow were based on an old map, comprised of well-worn paths to joy she could walk with her eyes closed. Now those paths were overgrown with weeds.

But she wouldn't stop trying to trim them. Some shears were in reach: a woman's magazine lay abandoned on a nearby table, famous for its relationship quizzes and bedroom advice. She snagged it, scooted her chair closer to Arthur, and flipped through the glossy pages until the headline "Are You Meant To Be?" screamed in bright pink font. She cleared her throat and read aloud. "'You and your husband are shipwrecked on a desert island. You can take any household item with you. What item would you bring?'" She paused, then went with what first came to mind. "Toothbrush. I can't expect you to kiss me when I-"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Her gaze locked on him. "Like what?"

"Like I haven't fucked everything up."

Automatically, she reached for his thigh, not heeding the angry twitch of his jaw. "You haven-"

He batted her arm away, inadvertently knocking the magazine to the floor. "Don't lie to me," he rasped. "I don't like you seeing me like this. I don't want you to have to come visit and pretend." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, an anger she recognized as shame dripping from every word. "Can you please just go?"

Pain lanced through her, pain she hadn't felt since her father, deep in the throes of dementia, had accused her of stealing from him. Her lashes lowered to hide her hurt. Arthur acting like this was proof of how out of sorts he was, how much he was struggling with his illnesses. But it didn't make his behavior any easier to take, even if she firmly believed it should. She had to try to accept him as he was in the moment. To forgive him and herself for pressing him too far, too quickly. To listen to his request for time, the way he'd listened to hers after the Murray show, giving her the gift of patience and understanding. A gift he also deserved.

Pushing herself to stand, she glanced at the orderly and lay a gentle palm on Arthur's back. To her relief, he didn't retreat. "I'm here if you need me," she said softly. "If you feel up to it, give me a ring. We could both use a joke or two." Fingertips caressed his distended shoulder, and she pecked the crown of his head, breathed in the oily musk of his scalp. Not entirely pleasant but him all the same. "We'll see each other soon. Get some rest and remember I love you."

~~~~~

"This woman wandered in off the street the other day. Pointy-toed shoes, fur coat, pillbox hat like she thinks she's Jackie Kennedy..." Perched on Y/N's side of the bed, Patricia dunked her orange pekoe teabag, gave it a good squeeze, laid it on her saucer. "She wanted to sue the Wayne Estate for damages to her Bentley, because Thomas Wayne had broken a legally binding oral agreement - she must have read a legal thriller and gotten haughty - to fix the potholes in Old Gotham when he was mayor. I told her to complain to Public Works, but she decided to camp out at your old desk to clip her nails. Finally, Matt had enough and offered her a phone call to Gotham PD or ten bucks for her trouble." She shook her head with a chuckle. "What a jackass. Retirement can't come soon enough."

"Don't wish your life away," Y/N retorted, inadvertently quoting a pamphlet she'd gotten from the Arkham gift shop, "Care for the Caregiver." The title had made her balk: Arthur bathed himself, fed himself, knew who she was. But it had been a straw to hold onto, albeit feebly. She retrieved a curved, wooden hanger from the closet and stuck one end in the arm of her freshly ironed blouse. "Besides, you've been working since you were sixteen, right? I give it a year before you'd go stir-crazy."

"Actually, I've been thinking about taking a class or two at the learning center," said Patricia.

"Oh, really? What kind? Pottery, advanced baking, conversational Spanish?"

"How to find nicer friends."

Hand on her hip, Y/N smirked over her shoulder to find Patricia's teacup raised for a toast. "Let me know what you learn," Y/N said, hoisting the laundry basket onto the bed. "I could use a few pointers." She batted the older woman with a dress sock, then fished for its companion. She shook them out. Aligned the cuffs and toes, smoothed the nylon with the side of her hand, folded the fabric into thirds. The top drawer's left ball-bearing slide stuck when she tried to pull it open, and she made a mental note to ask Arthur to take a look at it.

Without warning, a profound sense of loss swept over her, flushing her cheeks, her forehead. He'd been gone almost a week, the longest they'd been apart aside from conferences and training. Her days had been blessedly busy but dragged on nonetheless, slow as the secondhand on her watch when the battery had to be replaced.

Arthur had gotten in the habit of leaving a note whenever he had an early gig or errand to run, just a few words stating where he was, that he'd be home later, that he loved her. Though she knew he was in Arkham, she couldn't stop her heart from expecting one when she made morning coffee. She ached to pull him inside before he lit a second cigarette, and for his teasing kisses when he'd resist. The way he brushed his teeth from side-to-side, eschewing her method of small circles and daily flossing. Last night, a hot flash had kept her awake, and she'd longed for the feel of his strong, slender hands rubbing refrigerated lotion into her calves, a trick he'd learned to quiet his mother when she'd gone through what he politely referred to as The Change.

Y/N had never wanted to love someone so much she needed them, but Arthur had made it safe. And now here she was, anguishing over a stubborn piece of furniture. She gave the knob another good, hard heave until it popped off into her palm. With a groan, she slapped it on the top of the dresser, between his wallet and her jewelry box.

A gentle hold on her elbow halted her. "The clothes'll keep," Patricia said.

The compassion in her voice, subtle chords that would sound like judgement to others, loosened Y/N's stance. Granted permission for her to take a break from coping and give into grief. Slinking down onto the mattress, she picked up Arthur's blue house pants from the mound of panties and trousers and hugged them to her breast.

"Your anniversary is coming up," Patricia continued. "Will Arthur be home for it?"

"Yes. Three weeks is all the insurance will pay for, and Dr. Kellerman said we were lucky to get that." Most patients were discharged after two, even if they had nowhere else to go.

"How is he? Do you think he'll be ready then?"

"I'm not sure. He barely comes to the phone." She'd tried letters, too. Written on her office letterhead, declarations of her support and affection that were as stilted as the motions she regularly drafted. Something for him to read when they couldn't speak, when they couldn't touch. But he hadn't responded.

Although Y/N was the sole person he'd added to his list of allowed visitors, he hadn't signed the release. Sure, she'd learn the details of his care if a court remanded him, but she wasn't about to have him declared legally incompetent, not unless everything went to shit. But she had deduced his schedule by calling and asking if he could come to the phone. He's in group, Mrs. Fleck, the charge nurse had let slip. Or, You can try in an hour. He should be out of one-on-one by then.

Therapy three times a day. Safety and daily living skills. Goal setting before bed. No wonder he hadn't had the energy to say good night.

"I know what you're going through," Patricia said. She stretched to put her empty teacup on the nightstand. "When Robert got back from Korea, he kept his distance. Buried himself in starting his business, was gone most nights on extra late repair jobs, worked, worked, worked. It was nearly a year before he really came home. But he made it and Arthur will, too."

The intimacy behind the disclosure was a welcome invitation, a hook that tugged at Y/N's core and confirmed honesty would be all right. She drew a shaky breath, fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of Arthur's pajamas. "I thought I'd seen everything. Losing my mother, going out of my mind with my father. Those were finalities I couldn't prevent." Rapid blinking fought the wetness of her eyes. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand. "If you had seen him, Patricia... I just hope Arthur understands. I don't want him to think I wanted him to leave."

"Listen to me." Patricia adopted her mentor tone and hugged her tight around the middle. "There's no way he'd believe that. Remember when we doubled at Kao Wah? When we were in the restroom, and he ordered your favorite dish without having to ask what it was? He adores you." She swept her hand through the air as if she could sweep away Y/N's woes. "You promised to take care of him through everything. You did what you had to to keep him safe. You couldn't have done anything else, Y/N. Don't doubt yourself."

After some moments Y/N nodded. "You know, my parents had a swimming hole on our property. When I was young, I used to skip stones across it and make wishes. For my doll's arm to mend, for my parents to say safe, for my sister's surgeries to go well." She chuckled and dabbed at her cheeks with Arthur's house pants. "I guess it was like praying, which I never had use for." The slightest smile edging her lips, she turned to Patricia. "Let's go to Gotham Park and throw some rocks."

~~~~~

The next morning, eleven percent of her worries cast away by a currently sore right arm, Y/N walked past Sherwood Florist, a closet of a shop around the corner from her office. Storefront freshly washed, robust floral arrangements on display in large, spotless windows, and an owner in horn-rimmed glasses checking the temperature of the nearest cooler, she decided to stop in. Yes, the florist told her, an expression of dubious curiosity on his face. They delivered to Arkham. Just include the patient's full name and ward in the address, and it'd be sent this afternoon.

She chose a squat, plastic vase filled with daisies and a yellow enclosure card with a bumblebee in the lower left corner. A bit cutsie for her taste, but it was the only neutral choice among birthdays and congratulations. She pondered what to write, pushing back the urge to ask him to reach out. A minute later, she put her pen to the cardstock. "I miss you like thread misses a needle. (Good thing you're the comedian - that was terrible.) You're not alone in this. You have my whole heart. - Y/N."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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beg2differbuilds · 4 years

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simblr asks - answers

Originally from @an0nymousghost

1. how big is your mods folder? I’m not on my gaming computer at the moment but last I remember it was over 21 gigs...or was that 24...

2. how would you describe your style? I’m kind of all over the place but I definitely tend to design lots with modern design, warehouse/factory/industrial, abandoned, Asian-inspired, Southwest or Mexican-style, or just whatever I happen to be in the mood for. And most of the time I build cluttery lots but occasionally I will try to be minimalist.

3. what is your favorite challenge? I haven’t really done any TS4 challenges but I did a few legacies in TS2. I don’t actually play much in TS4 besides building and designing lots.

4. do you make cc? if so, what kind? I haven’t learned to make anything in TS4 yet but in TS2 (and TS1!!) I mostly did clothing and skin recolors as well as floors and wallpapers.

5. what type of cc do you hoard? From my favorite CC creators mostly! The second I see they have new goodies up I have to grab them immediately.

6. what default eyes and skin do you use? TBH I don’t use any or have any CAS CC in TS4. I had a TON in TS2 but I find all that takes up too much space and again I never really actually play the game.

7. how many urls have you had, and what are the meanings behind them? I haven’t had my own website in ages and it was not Sims-related but art-related. I’ve definitely used many usernames in the Sims community though including darkambiance, sushiphobia (whyyy did I make that one, I actually looove sushi), beg2differ (of course!), and maybe a few others.

8. who is your favorite gameplay blog? Hmm, I don’t really follow too many gameplay blogs. I’m mainly here on tumblr to find more CC.

9. who is your favorite storytelling blog? Same as previous.

10. who is your favorite cc creator? I’d definitely consider @novvvas as one of my many faves!

11. how do you edit your photos? I use ReShade (don’t ask me which one, I don’t remember!) and super old-school Adobe Photoshop CS3.

12. what is the last screenshot you took? Of a warehouse-style lot I’m building.

13. what do you do when you are unmotivated? To build? I just live my life. I work not-quite 50 hours a week so if I’m not building it’s because I’m either working nights or recovering from working nights.

14. who is your current favorite sim? I don’t really have one.

15. who is your current favorite sim that is not by you? See previous.

16. recreate someone else’s sim in your style. Don’t really play the game for that.

17. do you talk about sims with people in real life? Tbh if I’m good friends with someone I do talk about it and some of my friends IRL play as well.

18. how many of the packs do you own? All except Star Wars, Paranormal, Snowy Escape, and Spooky Stuff.

19. how many posts do you have on your blog currently? 14 if I”m counting correctly.

20. how many drafts do you have on your blog currently? None. If I want to post something I do. If I don’t, I don’t start to write one.

21. how many posts are in your queue currently? None. I don’t know how to use that feature yet.

22. have you ever moved blogs? Outside of the Sims world, yup. I do still have a Sims-related Livejournal but I haven’t updated it in years.

23. are you in any sims related discord servers? TBH I’m a bit older than most of you all so I haven’t even been on Discord.

24. what are your thoughts on the most recent pack? (paranormal). Eh. I’m not into paranormal stuff so I doubt I’d ever be buying that.

25. how many hours have you played sims? More than I care to think about considering I’ve been a Simmer since TS1 came out.

26. if you play gameplay, do you play with mods? I do have a couple mods installed but I don’t remember which ones because I’m on my work computer.

27. what’s the farthest you’ve gotten in a challenge? In a TS2 legacy I believe I got to about 4 generations before I got bored with it. All I know is you were supposed to make a completely normal human Sim and a horrifically ugly alien Sim and see how many generations it took before you had a beautiful sim again. Or something like that. I had some that looked okay but they all had some weird characteristics or they looked normal but had like blue skin or something.

#nonbuildrelated #ts4 #sims 4 simblr #sims 4 #textonly #asks

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tiesandtea · 4 years

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THE LONDON SUEDE - interview with Simon Gilbert (1997)

Interview Featuring Drummer Simon Gilbert, Who Is Actually a Nice Guy Unspoiled by Success

By Daiv Whaley, MOO Mag. Archived here.

One of MOO's many mottos: "When you can't interview the main member of the band, grab the drummer. He's always starved for attention." Daiv Whaley talks with The London Suede’s beatmaster Simon Gilbert.

MOO: Alright, so Suede has returned to the airwaves after a two-year absence with Coming Up. What's different about this one? Simon: Well, it's a lot more direct and easier to listen to than, certainly, Dog Man Star; a lot more rhythm-based ... MOO: Which is great for a drummer! Simon: Oh yeah, it's great for me -- we spent about six weeks just doing the drum tracks; we took a lot more time than we normally do. Plus, it's got a lot of keyboards on it cuz we've got a new keyboard player, Neil, who's my cousin. MOO: Um ... was that a riddle? Or an interview question? I don't know who your cousin is -- I'm supposed to be asking the questions! Simon: No, Neil is my cousin.

Hugely entertaining, 20/10. Full interview under the cut.

When British upstarts-with-attitude Suede first burst onto the fertile London music scene in the early 90s, they were note only performing and recording a statement against the tranced and lethargic shoegazer scene (remember My Bloody Valentine, all you mod listeners?), but also fueling frontman Brett Anderson's love-affair with all things glam-rockish; i.e. Bowie, T-Rex, leather posturings, androgyny, ass-shaking audience flirtation, and potent pop rock. Melody Maker, the "Big Ben" of English music culture, even named them "best new band" of 1992. Then, they changed their name to the London Suede due to technicalities, got all arty on Dog Man Star, and performed a submarine dive from public view as Oasis and Brit-pop rose to the surface of the toilet ... er ... the pond of the microcosm which is the British rock scene, though several critics credit Suede as being the forerunners of Brit-pop, anyway. Now it's 1997, and the London Suede have risen again to deliver their third full release, Coming Up. Whether the "coming up" refers to Suede's bank account figures or a vomitous reaction from their fans at their new sound is a subject MOO's Daiv Whaley tries to discover, oh-so-politely, as he chats with drummer Simon Gilbert, all the way from the gray shores of England.

MOO: Alright, so Suede has returned to the airwaves after a two-year absence with Coming Up. What's different about this one?

Simon: Well, it's a lot more direct and easier to listen to than, certainly, Dog Man Star; a lot more rhythm-based ...

MOO: Which is great for a drummer!

Simon: Oh yeah, it's great for me -- we spent about six weeks just doing the drum tracks; we took a lot more time than we normally do. Plus, it's got a lot of keyboards on it cuz we've got a new keyboard player, Neil, who's my cousin.

MOO: Um ... was that a riddle? Or an interview question? I don't know who your cousin is -- I'm supposed to be asking the questions!

Simon: No, Neil is my cousin.

MOO: Oh, sorry.

Simon: So, we have some very good pop songs on it -- there's going to be five singles, and we could have done seven or eight, to be honest. It's just a much more accessible album, and it's opening people's ears who haven't been listening to Suede before, particularly in Europe and Britain. We're selling a lot more records than we ever have before.

MOO: That's riffing.

Simon: Yes, it is riffing.

MOO: So then, is Suede a pop band or a rock band?

Simon: We're a prock band!

MOO: My fave songs on your discs are always the audio-experimenia ones, like "Dandy's Speeding," "Introducing the Band" or "Moving" ...

Simon: That's one of the first tunes we ever recorded! We don't play it live anymore -- the drum bit's too fast for me nowadays.

MOO: Well, those types of songs really seem to distance you from the more plebeian, predictable, 90s-modrock types of bands. Are those kinds of songs written with that type of production in mind?

Simon: Well, "Introducing the Band" certainly was -- it was one of the last tracks we recorded for Dog Man Star, and after we heard it, we just thought, "What was that?" But it was intentional to make it a bit weird.

MOO: Did Brian Eno approach the band about doing an incredibly long version of the tune ...

Simon: That incredibly long, incredibly boring version? No, we approached him for some bizarre reason, I don't know why. I'm not criticizing the bloke -- he does amazing work, but at the end of the day, all we were left with was the reverb; he took everything else out but the echo ... I was expecting a little bit more of the original version -- I bet there's not one person in the fucking country who's played the whole thing all the way through. I know I haven't!

MOO: Yuk yuk. Your former guitarist and co-songwriter Bernard Butler ...

Simon: Bernard Buttocks!

MOO: ... exited Suede after recording Dog Man Star and has been replaced by the very young Richard Oakes. What, is he 19 now?

Simon: No, he's actually 20 now and getting up in the double digits!

MOO: This is the first disc he's done with Suede. Was he up to the task?

Simon: More so than we'd ever expected, to be honest. We did a few demos before the album and after three or four, it was just no problem with him at all. Easy peasey! For someone so young and so inexperienced, I don't know how he did it, but he did.

MOO: Did you just say "easy peasey"? Never mind, what about this new keyboardist? Some cynics say that when a guitar band takes on a keyboardist, the band's death knell has begun, and now your own cousin, Neil Codling, is an official Suedester. "Codling," what a great last name.

Simon: Yeah, Codling, like in "molly codling." Have you heard that expression?

MOO: Yes, I studied English literature, with a minor in advanced cybernetic design.

Simon: Hmmnn. But about those cynics, they're wrong, at least in Suede's case -- Neil has done nothing but improve upon what we can do and the limits we can reach on our albums. Also, live, our sound is so much fuller. And we can still fuckin' rock out as well. Now, if we got a brass section, that might kill a band.

MOO: I've heard that Bowie is a fan? Has the band had any dealings with him as of yet?

Simon: Yes, he is. Um, we played with him last summer, in Spain, in the Pyrenees Mountains. He requested we play and we opened for him and he watched the whole gig from the sidestage, which was a bit nerve-racking. But yes, he's a big fan and he's fifty years old now.

MOO: Rockstar, painter, actor and Suede fan ... What more can you ask?

Simon: Not very much!

MOO: Speaking of playing live, you guys toured America for Dog Man Star -- how would you say a US audience compares to a British crowd?

Simon: Well, it really depends. I couldn't really generalize that much, because in L.A. or someplace like San Francisco, they're probably wilder than a British audience, but then you look at some place in Texas ... they sort of spit on us, they don't really like us there. It's a bit different in America, but there are some parts of it where it feels like you could be in London.

MOO: So, I take it while you're almost worshipped in Britain, America really hasn't caught on yet?

Simon: Hasn't caught on yet ... we're not saying we're giving up on it at all, but we're just playing it by ear. I believe that's the expression for it. We're gonna come over and do 10 dates and see how the album is received, but there's no real point in banging your head against a brick wall. If America on the whole doesn't get it, then fair enough, but I really hope they do, cuz it's a great album, a lot more America-friendly as well.

MOO: I've read Brett describe the band as being "political." I know Suede had been involved in the animal rights movement, and gay rights, and freedom issues. Do you find American music to be more or less politically-motivated on the whole than British stuff?

Simon: Well, I'd say that quote was probably taken out of context ... We're a political band in a human sense, not in a government politics kind of way. Yeah, we'll stand up in the House of Parliament and say, "This is wrong and blah blah blah," and we'll protest like that, but in the songs, there's no political manifesto of any kind -- it's purely human "politics" in our music. As for American bands, I really can't say ... I'm very stuck in the 60s and 70s in terms of music, and I don't really ask myself if this or that band is American or British, but rather, are they good or bad bands?

MOO: There's been a bit of a buzz in the US over the Brit-pop scene -- particularly Oasis and Blur. Where does Suede seem to fit into that whole genre, anyway?

Simon: Blur? They're shitty. Oasis is actually pretty good. Suede doesn't really fit into that scene at all; it was lucky we were away when it sort of kicked-off, and luckily we weren't lumped into that whole thing, cuz now the scene is dead, there's no such thing as Brit-pop anymore in England, and when a scene dies off, all the bands die off with it. So America, don't bother with it. It's really just the media sticking another tag on some scene -- it's useless crap, really.

MOO: Okay, how about the whole androgyny/bisexuality slant of a lot of Suede's songs -- if it's not just image-mongering to get attention ...

Simon: No, it's not.

MOO: So, why is Suede so revelatory about their sexual preferences?

Simon: Because the people we hang around with ... we hang around with each other, we're all friends, and the other people who come from lots of different areas of society, and at the end of the day everyone's aware of sexuality and the different types of sexuality, and consequently Brett writes about the people we hang around with and the way we live. It's just about being open and honest, really.

MOO: Right -- skinstorms together and all that.

Simon: Exactly; singing about things that other people don't sing about -- we don't sing about birds and flowers and the sky and things like that.

MOO: Speaking about singing -- there's lots of stories and rumors about your Brett Anderson. He seems like a real character.

Simon: All the stories are probably true!

MOO: Considering he'll probably never see this interview, what do you have to say about Mr. Anderson?

Simon: About Mr. Anderson? He's become one of my best friends; he's perceived as being aloof and stuff like that, but at the end of the day, he's one of the most genuine people I know. He's a lovely bloke, that's my honest opinion, and make sure he doesn't see that or I'll become really embarrassed.

MOO: Last question. Before '92, critics and clubs seemed to hate you. Then, you end up on the cover of Melody Maker, your disc goes to number one and beats out Depeche Mode, and you're big-time rock stars. What happened?

Simon: Well, that Melody Maker cover did help, let's be honest.

MOO: The power of the press!

Simon: Yeah. But even before that ... I don't know what happened. We played at this place called the Falcon in Camden, which is a famous sort of indie hangout. We played there one weekend to, like, eight people. Then the next weekend we played there again and the place was packed. All these stars came down there, people like Morrissey, and things just started to happen. I really don't know what happened -- I think people really got bored with the scene at the time, there was a lot of techno and shoegazey stuff going on and the indie scene was boring. We kind of laid that stuff to rest when we got going. There were people who I think were bored with not seeing real entertainers up on stage, and we were a band that was entertaining, which might have been why people didn't like us at the time -- they were so used to seeing the shoegazing stuff going on.

MOO: Yeah, let's look at our sneakers for an hour and play guitars!

Simon: Right, how entertaining is that? Might as well just sit at home and listen to their records.

MOO: And the rest is history, as they say.

Simon: Yeah, something like that.

#suede #simon gilbert #coming up #coming up month

19 notes · View notes

r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 4 years

Text

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 109 2Xs2) "Welcome To The Hotel Diablo"

@crystalbaby12 @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @5sosfam1dlover @rosefilledhearts-blog

El Diablo begins play as the lights go up. The masses lose their minds at the sight of the full stage. Luna's next to Colson with Casie. Pete, Ashleigh, Dom and Ashley are close by. Sam's near Baze as Dub, Noah, Mod, Caroline, Naomi, Trippie and Skies spread out around them.

Only Colson has a mic but you can barely hear him as everyone rapid fires the lyrics with him. Luna dances with Pete, Ashleigh and Casie while teasing Colson as he moves around his friends on stage. All of them loudly shouting how they KEEP THEIR CIRCLE TIGHT.

It's a fun and unique sight. Something that will never be recreated again. A true gift from Colson to his original fan base.

"THANK YOU!! WE FUCKING LOVE YOU FAM!! SEE YOU AT ESTFEST!!" Colson screams as the lights go down one final time.

Kissing Casie's cheek, he glances over at Ashleigh. Her nod tells him she's Got It. With that, he slings a squealing Luna over his shoulder and trots OffStage. He's got his own Backstage Ritual to attend to.

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"That was so fucking intense, Bunny!" Luna exclaims once Colson sets her down.

"I know." His mouth buzzes into her's as they strip off each other's clothes.

Colson lifts Luna up onto the small table against the wall. Having lit a joint as he carried her down the hall, she lifts it to his lips.

"I love you." He lightly chuckles as he exhales.

Guiding his thick cock into her warm pussy, Luna groans out in pleasure. Wrapping her legs around him to pull him in closer as he begins to thrust into her. Luna sucks on Colson's neck before lifting the joint to his lips. Grabbing her by the back of her neck, he kisses her hard. Exhaling his hit and filling her lungs.

The extra carbon dioxide makes Luna heady. She closes her eyes and runs her hands through Colson's hair. Enjoying his cock as he plays with her pierced nipples and nibbles on her ear. There's a sweet electricity to Colson and Luna's sex. It's passionate and rough but not aggressive.

Clenching herself around his dick, Luna lowly moans out Colson's name. Letting him wash over her as she gets them high. Colson grips her ass and lower back, making his way deeper into her. With her head back and neck exposed, Colson draws his tongue over her tattooed skin before opening wide and biting her JUST enough to make them both cum.

"Holy FUUUUUCK, Bunny!!" Luna cries out as her body shakes with his in pleasure.

"Can't say I don't know your spots." Colson sighs with a grin as he kisses her.

"I love you too." Floats from between Luna's lips in a content sigh as she closes her eyes and leans her forehead against his.

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Dressed in a pair of tight, black shorts, sheer tights, a printed black tank and knee high black boots, Luna's hair is still loose. Colson had tossed on a dark T and jeans while Luna had cut out their lines. Burning, kissing and snorting before making their way BackStage.

Everyone's in high spirits, celebrating the epic show and album's success. Casie reminds her dad of the necklaces and helps Colson pass off the coveted Double X chains to Naomi, Trippie, Ashleigh, Skies and Dub. They all go on to toast Colson, Hotel Diablo's release and each other while hugging and joking together.

It's not long before they have to head out to Velvet Dog for the release party. Casie gets huge GoodByes and Love before Bullet leads her and Ashleigh out to a private SUV. Her and Bullet will meet back up with them after dropping off Casie to Emma.

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The rest of them pile into multiple other SUVs. They're headed DownTown to a smaller, more intimate nightclub. Each of them chatting, drinking and getting stoned along the way in the five seperate vehicles.

Leaving Agora wasn't a problem. Pulling up to Velvet Dog, they can see it's gonna be much more of a hassle getting in there. Fans and The Paparazzi are surrounding it from all angles. The venue's own security is doing it's best at controlling the chaos. Benny's driving Colson, Luna, Rook, Baze and Sam.

"What do you wanna do, Kells?" Benny asks looking over his shoulder.

"Fuck it, make a path and let's get the fuck in there." He shrugs at Benny. Turning to Luna, he looks at her seriously. "Do NOT let go of my hand." He asserts before kissing her.

Luna nods a silent Yes as Benny taps on the window. Grabbing Luna's hand, he confirms everyone's ready before opening the door. Making Luna laugh when he shouts WE OUT.

Outside in the dark it's bright. It's loud. People are aggressive and Colson is on a mission. Clutching Luna's hand, he pulls her through the crowd behind Benny. Colson's super focused. Knowing how much she hates crowds, he's trying to successfully get them inside before anyone can stop them, seperate them or say anything to piss either of them off.

He does. Like a champion. Winning him a thousand happy kisses from a grateful Luna.

-----------------------------------------------

Inside is just as crazy. Record executives are there. Other artists from Interscope. More family and friends from Cleveland along with fellow supportive friends who flew in from LA and Philly.

Normally ones to seperate and work their own aspects of a room, Colson keeps Luna close to him tonight. She doesn't mind, happily staying by his side as he introduces her to those she doesn't know and they greet mutual acquaintances and friends they have together. Watching them in action, they truly are a Power Couple. Both of them smart, charming, gorgeous and engaging. Easily laughing and enjoying each other as they glide through to the nightclub celebrating Colson and The Boys.

They run into Johnny, Colson's partner in his 27 Club coffee venture. Unlike Dub, Johnny isn't leery of Luna. Colson listening with amusement as the two easily connect over music, the pain of starting up a business and his shocking love of her paintings.

"Yeah, I caught your exhibit back in '15.... Your shit is incredible. I wanted to buy a piece but none of it was for sale surprisingly..." Johnny trails off with furrowed eyebrows.

"That's myyy girl for ya." Colson laughs as he tosses his arm carefully around Luna's shoulders. "Dawg, she's a snob. She don't sell shit... if I didn't hear them myself, I wouldn't even believe she has seven fucking records!" He laughs looking down at Luna's rolling eyes as he kisses her forehead.

"Maaan..." Luna begins to whine with a smile.

"Why don't you sell your stuff?" Johnny asks.

"I hate you." Luna lightly chuckles as she nuzzles her head against Colson's chest before answering Johnny. "Most of my physical work is made for someone or something intentional. I'm not comfortable with someone else owning something that holds my intimacy with another." She tries to explain to his accepting nod.

"So then why release your music?" Colson challenges her.

"Because that's universal.... And it's MY guts I'm bearing not some..."

"You got like 20 mins, Kells." Ashleigh interupts them.

"Oh shit, alright. You coming with me, Kitten?" He asks looking down at her.

"Of course." She reassures with a smile. "We'll catch up later. It was a pleasure to meet you." Luna beams as she shakes Johnny's hand.

Before he can agree, she's gone. Hand in hand with Colson. Blonde hair trailing behind her like a memory.

------------------------------------------------

Their performances during the record release party were equally on point. Some more fun while others are more thought provoking and gut wrenching.

Catching certain faces before he had hit the stage, Colson decided to have Luna pop OnStage during Hollywood Whore. Cutting in only to recite the changed lyrics the way he wanted her to. As always, on and off stage, Luna was nothing short of a wreckage to be dealt with. Her powerful voice reaming out the room with Colson's truth as she moved her tiny, tattooed body seductively around her Lover before propping herself against his slender one.

🎶It's because of y'all//He couldn't understand//The worth of his career//'Cause of y'all//He hated himself//For so many years//'Cause of you//He never thought//That he could trust//But//You better watch your back//Cuz he's about to wife//ME up🎶

Her slip in had been flawless. Sending their friends into an uproar as Colson grabbed Luna's ass. Neither missing a beat while she trotted OffStage.

The rest of the gig went off without a hitch. Smoke and lights exploded around them constantly while Naomi and Phem's voices were on perfect pitch. Trippie and Lil Skies nailed their own features with Colson and Dom killing their performance of I Think I'm Okay.

With no encore planned, Luna and Colson went HARD on Bad Things. Both of their voices strong as The Boys roared behind them and they passionately played and pushed off each other. Their performance intense and extremely sexual as Luna ran the stage with her presence and Colson with his guitar. To this day, it's both of their favorite times OnStage.

------------------------------------------------

Trying to escape to his dressing room with a laughing Luna over his shoulder, Colson is stopped. By Diddy and Jimmy Iovine of all fucking people. Setting her down, the couple addresses the two men.

"Yo!! Be proud, Son. That shit was fire!!" Diddy proudly proclaims as he pulls Colson in for a full on hug.

Luna and Jimmy stand eyeballing each other. He doesn't know what to say to her and she's not fucking up Colson's Big Night.

"You too, Kid!" Sean says to Luna as he pulls her in for a hug once he's released Colson.

"That was an extraordinary show." Jimmy says, offering his hand to Colson.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. I leave everything I have OnStage every time I perform." Colson answers as he shakes his hand.

"It shows." Jimmy nods his head, never seeing Colson perform before he's beyond impressed by the underrated artist.

"He's going overseas..." Sean says to Luna as Jimmy and Colson interact.

"I know." Luna answers with a nod.

"With Hotel Diablo debuting so high, if the momentum keeps up I'm adding more US dates after." He says as he studies her reaction.

"Then you better get us a bigger bus... And. I don't want fucking Don." Luna eyes Diddy with a seriousness to her tone.

"What's your problem with him?" He asks with a laugh.

"He's a fucking douche who has no respect for Colson.... You know how I feel about that, Sean." Luna giving two answers that they both know.

"Alright, no Don." Diddy laughs at her.

"And a bigger bus?" Luna pushes.

"We'll see." Colson's boss laughs at his girlfriend. "Just don't mention any extra dates. I don't wanna hype him up til I'm sure..."

"So, bigger bus?" Luna smirks.

"Yeah. Bigger bus, you bitch." Diddy laughs as he pulls her in for a hug. "He's lucky to have you. You're one of the very FEW I give into." He continues to laugh as he kisses her cheek.

"I know." Luna grins at him. "And I love and appreciate you for it." She asserts before squeezing him again tightly and making him laugh even more.

"You better marry this bitch before she changes her mind!" Diddy continues laughing as Luna releases him from their hug.

"Psh... As quick as I can, Boss." Colson laughs as Luna tucks herself under his arm.

"YEEEOOOOOO!!!" Comes a loud voice above them.

"Looks like you got more shit to attend to. We'll catch up soon. Congratulations, Slick. I'm proud of you." Diddy says, dapping it out and hugging Colson once more before disappearing with Jimmy.

"I SAID YEEEOOOOOO!!" Tyree shouts as he bursts through the BackStage crowd.

"My mans!!" Colson hollers in delight as they embrace each other while Lamar and Luna happily greet each other in the meantime. "You made it!!" Colson says excitedly.

"Yeah... But without Ash we'd be dust in the wind, Homie." Ree replies with an annoyed look.

"My bad, Yo. But you're HERE!!" Colson shouts as he pulls Luna, Lamar and Tyree in for a group hug.

"Look at these motherfuckers." Dub comes up with a laugh.

Lamar and Tyree turn to greet their longtime friend. Dapping and laughing, the boys catch up while Luna stands awkwardly amongst them. Finding her exit clause, Dub calls her out.

"She don't like me." He teases her.

"Nah, Motherfucker. Don't put that shit on me.... You're the one who came up in here all Strong Man, Strong Man." Luna cocks her lip as she narrows her eyes.

Standing amidst Lamar and Tyree, Colson can't help but laugh at Dub from behind her. They may know... But he has no idea what he's in for.

"I don't know what your fucking problem with me is or where the fuck you get your Word from but until you climb on that bus or in a house with us... You better check your resources MOTHERFUCKER cuz you don't know shit. Bestfriends or not, we can buck. Right here. Right fucking now." Luna snarls with squared shoulders and a deadly look in her eyes.

"Ho!! Calm down, Shorty!!" Dub laughs, putting his hands up. "Don't shoot. I don't wanna fight, I was just pressen' you. You know. I gotta make sure you live up to that hype if you gonna lock my boy down!" Dub continues to laugh.

"What's goin' on over here?" Slim asks as he throws his arms around Luna and Dub.

"You, Bitch." Luna asserts as she ducks out from under his weight. "Don't think I don't fucking know." She spouts as her drunken eyes bounce between Slim and Dub. "It's alright though... He'll learn just like you did." She asserts as she snakes her head at both of them before dropping a middle finger, a kiss on Colson's long neck and turning to find someone more fun to hang out with.

"For real?" Colson asks both of them.

"Hey, I'm just goin' off what Slim said." Dub defends himself.

"Dawg, I AIN'T SPOKE TO YOU IN LIKE A WEEK!!" Slim uncharacteristically shouts, refusing to be thrown under the bus.

"Annnnnnnnd?" Dub cocks back.

"SHIT CHANGES!!" Slim continues to holler at his high school friend.

"Yo... Yo... Yo... Chill." Colson interupts them. "If anyone should be pissed it should be me, you back alley bitches. You got questions, words or problems with me and Luna, you come to ME. Don't be a couple of old lady pussies talking shit behind my fucking back."

"It wasn't shit, Kells." Slim starts to explain.

"It was enough for Dub-O to form a negative opinion about her before meeting her though, wasn't it.?" Colson shoots back as he tries to hold his anger.

Slim looks down sheepishly at Colson's words. He hadn't trusted Luna. At all, for a while. Even after she'd thrown down for his bestfriend multiple times. It wasn't until she stepped up when Bleta threatened Ashleigh and Benny and refused to lie to Colson, did Slim finally accept her. Dub doesn't know these things though because he wasn't on tour with them.

"Hey... Hey... Hey..." Dub comes jogging up behind Luna. "I'm sorry..." He says as he grabs onto her shoulder.

It's the wrong choice. The music and noise are too loud. The small BackStage area is filled with too many people. Not hearing Dub and only feeling his firm hand upon her, the New Yorker in Luna kicks in as she turns and lands a solid blow straight into his nose. Busting it wide open as he stumbles back off of his feet and onto the floor.

"WHAT THE FUUUUUCK!!" Dub shouts as he grasps his face.

"Don't ever fucking touch me." Luna replies emotionlessly before grabbing her leather and disappearing.

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"Hey.... You okay?" Colson asks after finding Luna alone on the steps out back of the nightclub.

"I don't know... I think I'm losing my shit..." Luna sighs as she passes the lit joint she has to Colson.

"Why?" He asks as he takes a hit.

"I don't know... I just laid out one of your bestfriends, was rude to a fan on the street and fought with my Mom-Mom all in the last 3 days ." Luna let's out with an annoyed sigh.

"Why'd you fight with Patti?" Colson asks.

"Fuck me and my big stupid mouth." Luna mentally curses herself.

"It's nothing." She tries to brush Colson off.

"No, it's not." Colson isn't having her bullshit, he knows Luna doesn't fight with her grandmother.

"I need a PreNump." She sighs with frustration.

"Okay?" Colson asks with confusion.

"What do you mean okay?" Luna's drunk and irrational.

"I mean okay. I'm not marrying you for your shit so.... OKAY. I'll sign whatever as long as I still get YOU. That's all I want, Baby." His voice breaks as he climbs on to the step behind her and wraps himself around a confused Luna. "You."

"You don't care what the PreNump includes?" She asks with a slight attitude.

"No. I don't give a fuck." Grabbing her chin, he pulls her eyes to him. "I'm marrying you, Luna. Not THAT Brooklyn Bitch. Not Patti Smith and Robert Maplethorpe's granddaughter. Not the coolest chick in The World. Just you. My own personal Addy." He grins as he begins to attack her with sweet, sloppy kisses.

"Ahhhh!!! Stop!" Luna giggles as she tries to wiggle out of Colson's grasp. It doesn't work. Submitting, she holds his face in her hands as she stares into his beautiful blue eyes. "Thank you." She says first as she gently kisses his lips. "And I'm sorry for hitting Dub."

"He shouldn't have fucked with you." Colson replies with a shrug and a smirk. "Back inside, please?" He asks as he stands and offers Luna his hand.

"Yeah." She agrees as she rises to kiss him.

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Back inside, the nightclub is going off. The DJ playing Hotel Diablo again in full as everyone dances and grooves. The words maybe alarmingly dark but the bop is on point.

"Yo. My bad." Dub immediately approaches Colson and Luna. "I was just trying to fuck wit you and clearly I shouldn't." He apologizes with a light laugh.

"No. I shouldn't have just swung, I'm sorry." Luna apologizes as she begins to rub her forehead.

"Nah, Ma, you good. I pushed to see how hard you'd rock... I didn't expect this shit but now I know!" Dub laughs at himself.

"I still feel like an Asshole." Luna admits.

"You good. I'd rather have Kells with a chick holding a solid right than some VSCO boujie bitch. We ride hard... And as much as it kills me to say it... I think you might ride harder!" Dub laughs again as Colson joins him.

"Enh... I got my name for a reason. Still, I'm really sorry about all that." Luna says as she gestures towards his nose.

"Stories, B. Stories." Dub winks at her with a smile as he opens his arms.

With that, Luna and Dub become friends. Her appreciating the lengths he will go to for Colson. Him respecting her fierce loyalty and the strong right fist she has for herself and her man.

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The album release party is still in full swing. Colson dips off as Luna grabs her and Dub drinks before she looks at his nose. Apologizing for the thousandth time to his laughter before they make their own way into the party.

Sam and Baze are making out like teenagers in a corner. Luna finds Naomi, The Ash's and Dom as Floor 13 kicks in. Drinks in hand, they jive, jerk and rap along Colson and the unique beat. Colson's with Slim, Benny, Pete, Mar, Ree and Dub by the bar busting it up. Noah, Caroline, Mod and Phem find Luna, the Ash's and Dom, easily coaxing them to the dance floor as Roulette begins. Rook can be found macken' on girls with Trippie and Skies while Bullet watches all from his perch at the bar.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"What cha guys doin'..." Luna asks as she approaches The Boys at the bar.

Bad choice. Colson and Pete immediately pounce on her like the night at 30 Rock. Linking their arms together, they catch her again like they're playing London Bridge. Shaking her all about as they happily sing their made up song.

🎶We gotta Moon Pie. We'll never let her get by🎶

"Whhhyyyy????" Luna moans as they justle her back and forth.

🎶Even when she asks why. She's our drunken Moon Pie🎶

They continue to laugh as they toss her around. It takes strategic planning to get out of a mess like this, only a skilled mind could handle the pressure. Being a smart cookie, Luna turns and throws her arms around Colson's neck and pulls him in for a perfectly distracting kiss. With her fingers climbing up his neck into his hair and her tongue dancing in his mouth, Colson has no choice but to let go of Pete's hands as they begin to roam around Luna. Pressing his large palm in between her shoulder blades as he kisses her deeply.

"Man... Fuck you guys." Pete complains as he leaves them be.

"🎶And a Moon Pie got away🎶 Luna sings to herself as she enjoys Colson's mouth much more than his and Pete's stupid ass game.

"Mmmm... You may taste good but you're not slick." Colson smirks once their mouths seperate.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Luna replies with a devilish smile.

"Okay, Moon Pie." Colson laughs before kissing her again. "Grab a drink?" He asks as he gazes at her.

"Yeup." Luna smiles brightly at Colson, standing on her tippy toes to kiss him before they make their way to the bar.

"KELLS!!!" Naomi comes barreling up to Colson, grabbing him around the waist into a huge hug. "I haven't seen you but I met Luna!!" She exclaims. "I LOVE her. Where is she??" Naomi adamantly asks.

"Right here." Colson laughs, pointing behind him to Luna's back, she's facing the bar ordering them drinks.

"She is the best." Naomi drunkenly decides. "Do you know that she keeps dry shampoo in her bag and that she's got these weed candies that taste like yellow SweetTarts? She gave me two. One for now and one for later... Who does that, Bro? She's like a tiny, beautiful, little, tattooed drug pixie. I think you should marry her." Naomi declares.

"Good thing you chose first then, hunh?" Luna comments with a huge smile as she joins Colson and Naomi.

Holding her Old Fashioned, she passes Colson his Henny straight up. Always having a trick up her sleeve, Luna easily passes Naomi her seltzer and lime as a vodka and seltzer. She's too drunk to tell the difference and water is gooood.

"I love this SON OF A BITCH!!" Naomi shouts as she grabs ahold of Colson. "Will you take a quick picture of us?" She asks Luna, handing over her phone.

"Sure... Hold on... Ready?" Luna asks trying to set them up.

It's in the the dark. On a phone's camera. In a club. Looking at it, it is definitely NOT her best work.

"I can retake it." Luna offers.

"No!! I love it" Naomi gushes as she hugs Luna. "Catch you later?" She asks, pointing at Colson's confused nod. Two quick kisses to each of their cheeks and she's off with a "Cool... Love you guuuuyyyysssss!"

"She's fantastic." Luna states as she watches Naomi disappear.

"SHOTS!" Rook hollers as he makes his way towards Luna and Colson.

"So, I heard you hit Dub." Rook immediately states once they've downed the clear liquor.

"What the fuck... I'm never gonna live that down." Luna groans as she puts her head in her hands.

"Nope." Colson and Rook say in unison, their laughter makes Luna groan even more.

The release party keeps going. Top shelf liquor easily flowing. Everyone's having a blast. Dancing, drinking and joking as they enjoy each other's company. They keep the party rolling until they're kicked out around 430A.

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Almost EVERYBODY comes back to Colson's. That would be The Blonde Don himself, THAT Brooklyn Bitch, Rook, Ashley, Dom, Lamar, Tyree, Noah, Caroline, Phem, Mod, Trippie, Skies, Benny, Bullet and a gaggle of girls.

Ashleigh had decided to go home to her family instead. While Baze and Sam tried to catch some privacy at his spot and Naomi some sleep in her hotel. Slim deciding not to go home but to follow the party as it rages on.

Always having instruments on hand, they begin a jam session. Starting off with the original riffs from Hotel Diablo before twisting them into acoustic versions. Luna and Noah subbing in for Naomi when needed.

Alcohol and blunts roll through the room as they run through different songs, joke and laugh at each other. The party going well into the ACTUAL sunshining morning.

"Yo. That could work.... That acoustic jawn. It's something different and totally sick..." Slim tells Colson as he stops him and Luna on their way upstairs, knowing exactly the seed he's planting.

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"I'm so proud of you." Luna coos as she pulls off her shirt and bra.

"I'm proud of those titties!" A naked Colson laughs. "Now bring 'em hear!" He demands as he pulls Luna closer to him and buries his face in her plump breasts.

"Mmmm.... Show me more of what your proud of." Luna giggles.

"I'm proud of this nipple and this nipple." He says as he lightly nips at them. "I'm proud of this scorpion." He says as he traces it with his tongue. Pulling her shorts off, he kisses each thing. "I'm proud of this leg and this leg...." Colson looks up at her with a cocky grin, grabbing her ass cheeks he pulls her closer to his face. "I'm proud of this pussy." His deep voice says, his lips just barely touching her lips but his baritone easily vibrating her skin.

"Alright." Luna pants as she pulls his face up to hers. "You got me, now give it to me." She says after she kisses his soft lips.

"Get on the bed the way I like." Colson directs Luna.

On all fours she goes, ass in the air, perky and dying in anticipation. Colson gives her one HARD

❗SLAP❗

Making her squirm in delight before dragging her closer to him by her hips. Running his fingers along her lips he can feel her dripping for him. Reaching around, he sticks his finger in her mouth as he enters her. Luna's back arches as she sucks her juices off his finger. Both moaning in pleasure as Colson makes his way deep inside of her.

Releasing her mouth, Colson slaps her ass again. Making Luna buck against him. Slamming her ass into his hips as he fucks her from behind. Colson runs his hand up Luna's bare slender back to the base of her hair. Wrapping his fingers inside her long locks, he grips her hip tighter. Demanding her to cum.

Luna's already came twice before so a yank of the hair is just icing on the cake. Letting her body go, she shakes and quivers as she feels Colson's dick pulsate inside of her as he drops his load.

"Fuck, Luna." Escapes from his pants as he moves her hair to kiss her lower neck, making her purr.

They lay there quietly, Colson's still inside of Luna as he plays with her hair. Just as she's about to drift off, his voice brings her back to reality.

"You're still gonna go tomorrow?" Colson asks lowly as they lay together.

"I have to." She replies lightly as she tries to train her breath.

"You HAVE to take a shit. "You don't HAVE to see Jackson." Colson states as a matter of fact as he rolls out of her.

"But I do have to mindfully wipe my ass after I take a shit." Luna retorts irritated by his frustration.

"What does that even fucking mean?" Colson jerks his head to look at her.

"I don't know..." She giggles as she pulls his face close. "I don't wanna fight though... Can we just be? We never get to just be." Luna says as she drunkenly snuggles into Colson neck.

"You're coming home tomorrow?" He asks with a trembling assertiveness to his tone.

"Absolutely.... Now, can we just be Us?" She answers with a pout as she lifts her head to kiss his neck in reassurance before snuggling deeper into him.

"Yeah, we can just be Us." He sighs as he holds her naked body close to his and kisses her tossled hair.

"It better be just Us...." Colson's heart pounds. "I swear to God, I'll kill 'em both.... Fuck, she's gonna leave me like my mom... She can't... I'll will FUCK some MAJOR shit up... Calm down, Kells. You trust her.... Don't fuck this up by spinning out.... You're not Justin.... You've got her. She KNOWS that.... She loves you." Colson's mind is trying to battle all the underlying insecurities that are bubbling up.

"Bunny... You feel alright?" Luna sits up asking.

"Yeah... Why?" Colson lies.

"Because I can feel you not breathing and your heart pounding through your chest... So... What's up?" She asks as she begins to stroke his hair.

"Ahhhh... Nerves." He sighs, half lying now.

"About?" Luna pries as she continues to stroke his blonde hair.

"Fucking Jackson." He slightly admits as he reaches for a joint.

"And...." Luna continues to lead as he sparks it.

"And that you'll leave me like my mom did." He exhales a cloud of frustrated smoke.

Luna pulls Colson into her chest. Stroking his hair again, she's silent as they share the joint. It's not an awkward silence. It's the sad silence of two children who never had their mothers for different reasons.

Once the joints finished, neither need to speak. Colson reaching over to turn the side light off as Luna slides down comfortably into the bed. Resting his head on the pillow with her arm under his neck, they lay face to face in the dark. Colson pulls her closer by the small of her back as they tangle their legs inside each other. Luna let's out a shuddered breath of content as she falls into Colson's body and hold. Stroking his face, in the dark, there's no words. Just a heartfelt, lingering kiss and one thought that drifts between them both as they fall asleep.

"FUCK, I fucking love you."

----------------------------------------------

Word Limit 2 of 2

To be continued.....

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stepphase · 4 years

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Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay: 9 things to know before playing

Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay: Of course, it is a game that arrive after eight years of anticipation and hype. Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay have officially launch in Global. As well as, it is already a broken Steam records. In fact, its fans expect of a game from CD Projekt Red. Also, the studio of The GTA 6 and Assassin's Creed Valhalla is a massive game. With a gigantic open world that is explore in the Night City.

After all, i have spent 40 hours with this game. And i feel fraction of what Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay have to offer. As well as, i have notice few thing which is powering through Cyberpunk 2077 weekend.

Image: CD Projekt Red

1. Loot every single thing

After all, here is a way to make money is to sell armor. In fact, a lot of enemy will drop their armor or gun after get killed. Just pick every single thing and sell them. After all, Crafting is big element of the Cyberpunk 2077 gameplay. Also, you can craft armor, weapons and much more. As well as, you can use dismantle weapon to upgrade weapons.

2. What difference backstories make

After all, when you will start the game you will get 3 option with backstories for V: Nomad, Street Kid, Corpo.

In fact, there is 2 main impacts. The first effect the open hour of the game. As well as, if you will start in a Night City, different Characters, it is depend your choosing. Of course, the Corpo is in office building. And the Street Kid is in Sleazy bar. As well as, Nomad is in the Badlands desert outside of the Night City. After all, After gameplay of an hour you will come at the sam epath with fun for hire with your pal Jackie.

Af course, the second effect is with a different dialogue option that is base on the backstory that you choose. After all, when i went for Corpo, that give V ability to politic his own way to certain sticky situations. Also, your backstory won't make difference.

3. Don't just play the main quest

After all, i have spent 5 days around to get the Cuberpunk 2077 Gameplay review. Also, i force to ignore side quests and focus on the main storyline. Of course, Don't do this.

As well as, the Cyberpunk 2077 story is strengths and its relationship between V and Johnny Silverhand. As well as, the mercenary play by the Keanu Reeves with a characters called V. Of course, the Cyberpunk 2077 is explore a Night City. Also, Gameplay itself is encourages and prompting you regularly and take break with the main quest for other stuff.

In fact, its amazing to play Side Quests then the Main Quests. Also, from reining in seven AI-powered cabs is rogue to solve mystery of slain mayor. After all, it is my favorite that the rogue cabs have personalities often legitimately funny.

As well as, the more Side Quests will give you the access of the better endings. After all, i finish the game in 37:30:26 hours with less Side Questing. In fact, it is really clear that the ending i did in Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay and there is many possible ending. Also, i get the worst ending by the way.

Note: Do more Side Quests to get more resolute and satisfying ending for V.

4. Do gigs to get cash

As well as, in Side Quests, to help a character to complete overriding goal with "gigs". After all, their is a more mercantile: And a "fixer" will definitely ask you to go do a job for them. Just like an incapacitate enemy and sneak through hideout and place a tracker on vehicle. Or to take risk from one place to another place. After all, your'e a gun for hire.

In fact, this things is fun with challenging and it will take 15 or 20 minutes maximum. Of course, You will definitely need the money in Cyberpunk just to buy weapon, cars, and upgrades. Also, i find these gigs is the best way to make it.

5. Stack attributes

After all, you will get option at begin of the game is to distribute points for attributes: Body Reflex, Cool, Intelligence, and Technical Ability. As well as, you will have perks that you can unlock in attributes.

In fact, i spread the attribute points and perks senievenly. And i also have idea that skill trees in most AAA games. After all, i end up unlocking all perks eventually. In fact, you are better off choosing that how you wanna approach combat and tailor attributes point and perks.

Of course, there is a 2 ways to handle the combat: Stealth and Force but there is a subdivisions. Also, you can specialize in the meelee weapons, and fisticuffs or gunplay. Also, you can optimize sleuthing hacking abilities and stealth kill offense. After all, the cool attributes and the related perks will make enemies harder to detect you. As well as, you can hack tech to distract enemies. Also, throwing daggers.

In fact, you can adjust your style in game but do not do what i did. Just try to be balance.

Breathtaking Johnny Silverhand. Screenshot by CNET

6. Pump Body and Technical Ability to open doors

After all, there is a Body and Technical Ability to attributes both highly useful to navigate Night City. In fact, both is use to open lock doors. Also, have more benefits like getting higher Body points that will lets you hijack cars and open parked cars. In fact, there is a Technical Ability that will let you hack mainframes to get money and to crafting components.

Breathtaking Johnny Silverhand. Screenshot by CNET

7. No two playthroughs will be the same

After all, the choices is really matter in Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay. Also, it is a true in Main Storyline. As well as, do not go in game with impression that make small and cosmetic differences. How you complete missions and react it will have a drastic effect.

After all, I have a suggestion that open section in game and you are task with getting a piece of the military tech from the gang. As well as, there is a option to meet with operative from mega corporation that tech was stolen. In fact, when I demoed game in August i didn't bother meet the operative and a result to blast my way out of gangs hideout. After all, i play this time i meet operative and result her corp's forces to shootout with gang and leaving me scurry away easily.

8. Do not use fast travel everytime

As well as, this is a similar vein. Also there is a fast travel point to the city that you will be able to use it. After all, when objective is other side of Night City. In fact, you would not have the time to dally dilly but you will often be rewarded for travelling via motorbike and car.

Of course, there is a lot of things to do in Night City. As well as, you are bound to find something if you will travel manually. After all, you will definitely find multiple cool things as i find regular stops en route to next quest location after see it. And the icon beckoning me into the HUD map.

After all, the Night City Police Department will pay you if you break it up and apprehend the perps. As well as, the Fighting crime yield solid loot that you are left disappointed with payoff.

9. You can fail Side Quests

After all, you will definitely fail Side Quests and would not get chance to re-do them.

In fact, when the first time i experience i was midway through a Quest revolving a killer that is trying to seek forgiveness from the dude he killed. Also, at the end of the Quest, one of that dialogue option is "Alright, i've seen enough". As well as, it is reverse psychology trick that i choose. "OK, fine" and the Quest just ended.

After all, this is same for challenges. As well as, one "gig" taking part in shooting contest with rifle with the top prize. As well as, there is not a single option to redo it. I Just Lost it.

Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay

Cyberpunk 2077 gameplay: After all, Night City is like a deranged experiment in a social Darwinism. As well as, it is designed by a bored researcher who keeps one thumb permanently on the fast forward button.

In fact, that line is from William Gibson in 1984 novel Neuromancer. Of course, it help to define genre known as the Cyberpunk 2077 gameplay. As well as, the book conjures world to cutting edge trends are embarrassing cliches and desperate hustlers rise overnight and also fade without the trace.

After all, the Cyberpunk 2077 gameplay by the Witcher studio CD Projekt Red in Night City. As well as, the Cyberpunk 2077 gameplay was announced in 2012 and that is based on the tabletop series which was launched in 1988. Of course, it is a years of work that is report months of the brutal crunch time. In fact, CD Projekt Red have deliver on incredibly ambitious vision. As well as, it is a vast virtual city with complex narrative and also the roleplaying system.

As well as, it is dont by playing elements straight and safe. Of course, the Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay is frequently satifying and also a impressive game. Also despite setting in fast moving future that is never surprising.

Trailer

https://youtu.be/BO8lX3hDU30

After all, the Cyberpunk 2077 gameplay take the place in eponymous year 2077 which is at the Night City. As well as, it is a California Megalopolis where interlocking freeways thread between the skyscrapers and the street markets. In fact, you can imagine Los Angeles with the mile high holo billboards and the pedestrain friendly urban planning. As well as, there is a de facto breakip of the America.

Also, that is failed urban utopia has become an autonomous zone that is dominated by gangs and multinational corporations. After all, on every single street level, the surface has plastered with sexed-up ads and also nihilistic graffiti. As well as, it is an ultra-rich have retreated in cavernous hotels and apartments with gilded servant class. After all, the citizens disposable and the body is malleable, ripe for the dramatic cybernetic modding which is blends with chrome.

In fact, your protagonist is mercenary named V that is hail from three possible background. As well as, 2077's is small corporate overclass and the Night City teeming slums or the nomadic group at outside the city. As well as, V is a neon hair corporate taider for insance. Also, with a short origin story mission that is be drag in bloogy interdepartment conflict. Also, V is countless freelancer drifting at Night City demimonda. In fact, join heist arrange by flinty femme fatale and naturally its job falls..

Sexed-up Billboards, Nihilistic Graffiti, and Literally Gilded Service Class

After all, V is a witness cold-blooded into the crime of the Night City’s. As well as, in ensuing chaos and coverup. Also, its ends with a piece of dangerous experiment technology. Also, they resurrect the digital ghost of the Night City legend: In fact, the metal-armed punk rocker is the terrorist Johnny Silverhand and voice by the Keanu Reeves. As well as, Johnny’s suffering frustrated outbursts and cynical quips.

After all, they also figure out that who built tech and how to stop the deadly effects. As well as, appealing to the criminals and also corporate loyalists who will stab them in the back.

Of course, this is a threat in a narrative that is big by a standard to the open-world games. After all, i finish Cyberpunk 2077 gameplay in 37:30:26 hours. As well as, that covers major Side Missions and cruising around the Night City. Also, I left a few small tasks undone.

After all, Every single neighborhood is pack with jobs just to discover, random crime to stop, and conversation to overhear. After all, when you become the more powerful, crime bosses, and local fixers then start to ask out for help. As well as, they will try to sell you a secondhand car. Also, in the opening mission, you will definitely find major endgame story branches that is depend on your loyalties.

After all, the Cyberpunk 2077 map's overwhelming experience. With the waypoint icons, pack and selecting a given item requires zoom in. As well as, the game does a good job of spin extends side arcs from core missions. Also, it is a calamitous first act, that given multiple leads to the main goal.

As well as, they tracked down require the cutting deals with the characters and also contacting heists to other participants. After all, these partners will ask for help with their problems. it Also, continue subplot to the main story and open doors to fresh Night City subculture. In fact, you will find more gigs but the several option section that will feel like V and Johnny Saga.

Night City future are eternally relevant

After all, the Cyberpunk 2077 tropes have survive because of the ring true. As well as, Cyberpunk 2077 depics hyper-stratified societ. Which is rewards cruelty and exploits vulnerability, also commercializes everything. This game conventions help it avoid facile event references that is still feeling contemporary.

After all, Cyberpunk 2077 falls in irritating caricature. As well as, V and Jackie develop blend for streetwise cynicism and buried hopefulness. As well as, those dialogue is overladen with spanish aside. After all, this game is straightforwardly reproduces 1980s Cyberpunk's surface of level fascinating with China and Japan. in fact, it is arming japanese gangster with katanas. And building Japanese Characters around archetypes like a honor-bound samurai.

After all, the USSR hanging with them, and the Cyberpunk 2077's gender and race worldbuilding is feel like an alt-history relic. Also, it will let you customize V's voice and body shape.

After all, the tabletop series author Mike Pondsmith have stat that the rules of detail fictional society is political. As well as, the Cyberpunk import social conflict for a dramatic effect like an long subplot about the sex workers. In fact, its vulnerable class of the real people. Also, its trying to overthrow bosses.

In fact, these conflicts do not feel fail or successful social commentary. Also, its stock neo-noir conceits which happen just to involve oppression. Also, Cyberpunk 2077 is a brand of exploitation. After all, it is a piece of fiction that does not add stories and ideas it is borrowing.

After all, CD Projekt Red has created a sprawl populate a world. where meandering freeways also outlying deserts and the rows of factory-farm also greenhouses feel beautiful craft.

Cyberpunk 2077 Gameplay is a powerful machine with million slick toggles, but they feel disconnected

After all, the Cyberpunk 2077 areas have the shortcut doors to the high-tech or high-strength players can unlock. As well as, it is not clever puzzle-box design you had find in the Dishonored or Deus Ex. Also, you can choose to kill the enemies, a thread of the missions where you have to bring the targets in alive. After all, this option affect gameplay style or character interactions.

After all, your background and stats in the Cyberpunk will produce extra dialogue choices. As well as, they rarely change how conversations unfolded. In fact, a lot of game is roleplaying choices are crude binaries or illusions. Also, the Cyberpunk 2077 is powerful machine with million slick toggles. But more of them will feel disconnected.

After all, its a silver lining for me just like a reviewer and granted because Cyberpunk 2077 pre-release for PC build was fully unpredictable bugs. As well as, its mercenery keeps reappear behind me when i knock him unconscious and also forcing me toshoot him. As well as, when i try to move their body some enemies clipped through floors and exploded.

I can destroy you just with my brain with a four different ways

After all, this game is open-ended roleplaying and few elements reminiscent of sims just like Deus Ex. As well as, purchase weapons and clothes are supplemented by the upgrade tree for games key stat. Also, dexterity, strength, and cool. After all, you can visit back to the alley technicians which is called ripper docs. As well as, they also install bionic weapons and swappable upgrades with perks.

As well as, Cyberpunk 2077 can approach a lot of areas by slip past enemies undetected. Also, you can shoot everyone. After all, there is a clever hacking minigame that provides blanket benefits and making enemies much more vulnerable or glitching out the security camera. After all, there are “quickhacks” for actions. As well as, in stealth, you can deactivating turrets or making vending machines chirp to distract the enemies. In combat, you can fry the enemy's brains by making implants malfunction.

After all, this system will help to carry the Cyberpunk's considerable length. Instead of the rewarding hyper-specialization and the game encourages versatility also mixing up firefights with the sneaky sections. As well as, Quickhacks add a touch of much-appreciated absurdity to the combat. In fact, it is satisfying to infiltrate a criminal hideout. Also, incapacitate cluster of the mooks by uploading some contagious poison brain virus. As well as, wait for their buddies to notice you, start a shootout with futuristic-looking “tech pistol”. Then knock the final gangster out with the mind powers.

Modern Cyberpunk 2077 is the broad vibe and a specific retro-future setting

After all, this saga is felt rote. In fact, it is Dungeons & Dragons codified that is Tolkienesque fantasy. As well as, Cyberpunk 2077 is distilled recognizable elements from influential fiction like Blade Runner and Neuromancer. After all, it is a loosely define cyberpunk genre that begins as a ground to space operas. Also, the post-apocalyptic is wastelands and heavily influenced by the hardboiled fiction.

As well as, it is permeated science fiction which has innovation cliches. Nowadays, “cyberpunk” has 2 contradictory meanings: tech-heavy futuristic media which is felt organically grown from the present-day to social conditions. Also, its specific set of the 1980s and 1990s influenced retro-future noir conventions.

After all, Cyberpunk 2077 sits in the timeline where the Soviet Union still exists. As well as, Japan is an economic and cultural superpower that is with chaotic warzones and big cities. In fact, this game set decades after when original tabletop release. And the CD Projekt Red tune down retro aesthetic enough just to avoid ostentatious anachronism.

Of course, there is a periodic flashback to an earlier era and also creating a strangely hilarious setup. Where 2077 is look sort of from this real-world in 2020. After all, fictional 2020 is actually a sci-fi 1980s right down to the vinyl record and the eye mount camcorders.

Bugs

After all, if the Cyberpunk is a game for the perfection than i consider it is a serious problem. As well as, i hope CD Projekt Red will definitely fix it. As well as, it is roll out one round of pre-release bug patches. Also, it is a huge sandbox with autosave system, which is not a deal-breakers.

Of course, the Cyberpunk is hype as triumph of the next-generation gaming. Also, it is sheer size which will take advantage of the modern computer and console specs. Of course, my PC is really powerful enough for games.

Cyberpunk 2077 is released on December 10th on PC, Google Stadia, PlayStation 4, PlayStation 5, Xbox One, Xbox Series S, and Xbox Series X, Fifa 21, Capsix Robotics, GTA 6 Project America, gta 6 release date/characters/map/news/rumors, cyberpunk 2077 release date, cyberpunk 2077 warn streamers to avoid dmca strikes,

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the-record-keepers · 4 years

Note

girl-in-the-tower: Hello!! I was wondering, could I possibly get my OCs judged by the keepers? Like I love how Alice and Duo interact and I'm kinda curious to see what they would think of Kore and Theo? If not, maybe Amy and Evelyn's impressions of these two?

Its nice to know that someone is interested with our side blog ^v^. Long answer incoming because @i-just-want-my-empanada-goddamit LIKES TO BE EXTRA. But I, too, am an extra bish -Mod Auniro

Ahahahaha omfg sorry for the long post, I wanted to have the three of them give their thoughts since this is the first ask that we recieved! Hopefully you don't mind a long read then ^v^ - Mod Em

@girl-in-the-tower

[Evelyn and Kore]

"Kore Hightower seems like someone I can be girl friends with! And even better, a fellow dorm mate and classmate! I'd like to be friends with her someday"

"Her eccentricness is weirded out by others? Nonsense! Being eccentric is fun! You can be unique and true to yourself... I mean- I'm such an all around geek that only Grim knows how much I geek out on about anything weird, I love reading cryptic and sci-fi stuff- ah! I spoke too much" *sweatdrops*

"Maybe she can help my doormatted habit and teach me how to stand up for myself, I'm pretty tired of being an errand girl for the Headmaster, him and his orders are a mess, he should solve those problems himself!" *huffs*

[Evelyn and Theo]

"Teacher Theo honestly looks intimidating but at the same time he reminds me of Miri's older brother, Xander. Nonetheless, I wouldn't like to disappoint him if I make a big mistake in his class" *sighs*

"I'll be very attentive in his class if he talks about magical objects! Makes me want to research about them and tinker with it hehe- oh goshdarnit Evelyn! Stop geeking out!"

"No matter how much I look at him, I'll only see Xander through him sometimes. He has the same vibe with him that if he talks to me, I might accidentally mistake him as Xander! I better be careful with that;;"

[Duo and Kore Hightower]

"Ah.. her mouth may run her into some sticky situations if she doesn't control it..."

"Hardworking? Maybe she can teach Alecks a little something about having a proper work schedule"

"She's a pretty rambunctious bunch now isn't she? well it seems like everyone from the Ramshakle dorm is..."

[Duo and Theo Yule]

"it seems like me and him can get along quite nicely, maybe even chat about different obscure topics... hmm maybe I should invite him to the library sometime..."

"ah... he has a snarky attitude and likes teasing people....he reminds me of certain someone a little too much" *cough* Oracle *cough*

"*sighs* I can relate to his overworking nature, sometimes work can just swallow you up and make you forget about everything else, thankfully he has Kore with him so I don't need to worry so much"

[Alice and Kore]

"she's an interesting case now isn't she? I have a feeling her and Evelyn might get along..."

"hm? oh she's surprisingly capable... I didn't expect that from such a sheltered child"

"her bright and social nature will definitely aid her in the future... but I wonder if there's different side of her below that cheery exterior, surely there must be, right? no one can be that cheery and optimistic without carrying a deep sadness within themselves..." *cough* omg alice stop being so nihilistic about others *cough*

[Alice and Theo Yule]

"ah I've seen his types before... I guess you could say we're the same too, oh if only I had a 'Kore' with me too... don't you ever tell this to Duo alright"

"he reminds me of Duo minus the snark, maybe Duo can learn a little something from him... maybe try to act a little colder towards Alecks too..."

"I can't help but see a little bit of myself inside in Theo... but I don't think I can ever warm up to anyone else maybe someday... but I don't think it's going to ever happen"

[Amy Abbot and Kore Hightower]

"she seems friendly, maybe she can befriend Alex even though she's her senior... I have low hopes on that but it's not bad to hope right?"

"Oh? she reads fashion magazines? I wonder if she's read my articles then... well it's not that I'm a fashion journalist or something I just had a side gig as one"

"it's good that she isn't naive, that's a great asset to have, there are wolves among this school that won't hesitate to take advantage of the kindness of others"

[Amy Abbot and Theo Yule]

" Sometimes I get nervous whenever I attend class, sir Theo sometimes gives me looks like he's seen me before... it makes me worried that he may actually remember me as his former student"

"He seems cold, we have a strictly student-professor relationship and that's just the way I want to keep it, I don't want my cover to be blown. I've worked my a** off to get into NRC and pass off as a students so no way in hell am I ever going to get busted this easily"

"A lot of students seem to struggle with his subject but I seem to be grazing by *chuckles* well maybe it's because I've experienced it before... *sighs* although he's the main reason why I have so many students to tutor..."

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #asks #evelyn ceridwen #evelyn #alice #duo #amy abbot #amy

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chaniters · 5 years

Text

And the winner is...

Next part of @kruk-art‘s Awan Cormac series.

Complex stories take a long time to plan!!!

Another hospital scene...

Spoilers ahead for Rebirth

Previous part is here: 8 https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/188183225024/blood-in-the-water

__________________________

Hospitals. Wards. Infirmaries.

You hate them all.

Too sterile. Too familiar.

Yet here you are, mind full of guilt, sitting by the bed, waiting for him to wake up. Your hand goes absently to the plate where the cookies are, fetching one two.

Idle time is another one of your pet peeves, and thus you brought something to work on. The decryption programs you brought on your phone are top-notch coming directly from the farm and should work on anything, but the Loan Shark’s data-rod on Elyise has proved impervious so far. Still, you’re not giving up and there are a few more tricks to try.

You’re almost sure it’s not an American encryption protocol, which only raises more questions as to the true extent of Hollow Ground’s connections. Whatever the case, they didn’t want this file to be seen which is all the more compelling reason to break in and see what’s inside.

You keep on trying though, each new variation of your protocols failing after a short while with a monotonous beep from the phone and the sound of crunchy chocolate cookies the only things letting you keep track of time.

At least that’s so until…

“Are you going to leave some for me, jerk?”

You put down your phone, looking at him. His eyes are open, and he looks pale. Pale, but awake.

The immediate wave of relief is so strong you feel you’re about to lose it. But you force yourself to keep it together.

“If you think you’re going to get one of MY cookies, you’re awfully mistaken. It’s going to be baby food from now on for you Marsha!”

“Baby food? Yuck. I’m out of here!” he says trying to move up before stopping with a pained expression. The movement makes his mods go off, sending a zap towards the machine he’s attached to, which turns off and then reboots

“Watch it sparkles! Those things take a lot to reconnect if you break them... “ you sigh while “You’re might be patched up but you’re still wounded. Better get used to it too, you’ve got some horizontal time ahead of you”

“Ugh. Ook… Maybe I’ll rest for a little bit after all” he relents.

“That’s how things are going to be from now on. You’re staying there as long as you have to ”

“Who made you boss again?”

“Your mom. Also, she promised more cookies if I stop you from doing anything stupid”

“So you sold me out for chocolate chips?”

“They’re really good,” you say taking another. “Really really good” you add with your mouth full.

You monster…” he says with the hint of a smile.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. So, how long have you been awake?”

“Not sure. Didn’t notice you were in the room at first.”

“Do you know where you are?” you ask “Or what day it is?”

He ponders hard for a few moments examining the surroundings before answering “... The HQ?”

“That’s right. We’re at the infirmary”

“How long I was out though.”

“I’d say about two days, give or take.

“That’s insane. Where are the others?”

“Asleep I guess? It’s 3:00 am”

“Whaa… what are you doing here so late then?” he says narrowing his gaze, making you feel a bit uncomfortable. “I thought you hated hospitals...”

“I do. But I’ve managed so far”

“Didn’t know you cared that much about me”. Bullseye, he got you there.

“Don’t flatter yourself” you grunt. “It’s bold of you to assume I’ve got a life outside the hero gig anyways,” you say deflecting. “And this isn’t really a big deal. I get free food. And this is just part of your base, not a real -real- hospital anyways... I mean I could do this for any wounded ally” you add averting your gaze. The snort tells you he didn’t buy into that.

It was a really bad lie, you’re usually better at this, of course, he knows you wouldn’t get into a hospital -even an infirmary- for just anyone. Well almost anyone, you know that now. Are you losing your touch? If you blush right now you’ll have to just kill yourself right here.

“Look, I’m taking turns with your mom, ok? That’s all! It’s really no big deal.” you sigh. “She left at midnight to get some sleep. She’ll be back in the morning.”

“So you met her? can’t believe I missed that! What did she even say?”

“Oh uh… Not much… really. She seemed to like me I think?” In fact, she said a lot to you. About how Ricardo keeps talking about you and how he’s lucky to have such a good friend that you’d offer to stay for so long… and a whole LOAD of other stuff about Ortega that you didn’t know. “How are you feeling?”

“My chest hurts like hell. But I’m good at keeping up appearances,” he says with another pained smile. His voice sounds tired. Damn him and his unreadable mind… you couldn’t tell it hurt like that.

“Let’s fix that,” you say as you raise from the seat and start fiddling and adjusting the drips attached to his arm.

“Hey hey hey… What are you doing?” he asks nervously as he watches.

“Increasing the painkiller dosage?” you explain matter-of-factly

“But shouldn’t my doctor do that?”

“Fuck him”

“That’s a bit harsh”

You turn to look at him “He took you off painkillers because your sponsors bribed him so they can get a full diagnostic of your mods by the morning. They seem to think the drugs would mess that test’s accuracy.”

“... that does sound like something they’d do, the jerks...” he sighs. “What did you do?”

“I dealt with it.”

“Dealt with it how?”

“I had him confess what he did, and then killed him”

He looks at you wide-eyed for a few seconds. Wow, he actually believes you could do that.

“Of course I didn’t kill him you asshole! That was a joke. He’ll come back eventually when it’s time to check up on you. I just gave him a time-out”

“Oooh… It’s just you don’t tell that many jokes. And you were pretty convincing for a moment there. Did I tell you that you look very serious most of the time?”

“Idiot” you groan sitting reassuming your adjustments as he watches, a bit more relaxed now. “By the way I know what I’m doing. I’ve got training as a nurse”

“Really? Maybe I should hire you to do this more regularly. Didn’t know you had medical training”

“That’s me. Big box of surprises. Sadly, you couldn’t afford me,” you say with a smirk. He just snorts, which makes him hurt again. He’s an Idiot and you should probably stop telling him jokes.

“Ok, doc… Can we move on to the part where you tell me how bad it is?” he says looking at his chest. “Or do we need the real doc for that?”

“Nah, I can do that… It’s really bad right now” you start “Nasty cuts. You went into intensive care, but you’re off now, your surgery was a complete success with no organ damage or permanent injuries. You still had blood transfusions twice from two of your cousins who were here when they brought you. You’re going to have some new interesting scars. Overall, the consensus is that you’re going to be wearing your Charge suit as soon as they can spit you out of here. Your sponsors have prepared some media things for you while you recover, so you don’t lose the limelight, so you can expect cameras up your nose when they realize you’re awake.”

“Well that’s just…” he starts before trailing off.

“Grotesque? Horrible?”

“Business as usual really…” he says taking in a deep breath.

“I’ll scare them off too if you want. Shouldn’t be hard.”

“How about I hire you to be my personal spook instead?”

“You don’t need to pay me for that,” you say as you finish adjusting the dosage “Also, you should be feeling better in a bit, and if you don’t we can go for a stronger dosage... Or I can even get the asshole to give you something stronger”

“Thanks, Awan”

“It ‘s ok,” you say taking your seat again.

His gaze runs around the empty room, the dark corridor outside, and the digital clock by the bed. 3:17 AM. It’s pretty obvious it’s only the two of you right now.

“Thanks for staying Awan. I know how much you hate hospitals”

“I do hate them a lot. But I told you it’s nothing”

“Not everyone would do this”

“I bet a lot of people would…”

“Nope. Only a really good friend would. “Would you be mad if I told you you’re my best friend ?”

“Wha…? Now you’re just being ridiculous…”

“Because you are my best friend. You know that right?”

“I...” you say averting your gaze. Fuck, you’re going to blush. You rub your face before looking back.

“Oh. Now you’re mad” he grins.

“You’re my best friend too, ok?… “ You’re staring right at him, the words somehow escaping your lips very quickly before you can take them back. Shitshitshitshit...Why does this keep happening around him?

He opens his mouth about to say something, before he simply closes it again, giving you a fond smirk before patting your hand next to the bed. He says nothing and neither do you.

It takes a while before he breaks the silence again.

“Is Elyise alright?” he asks suddenly worried.

“She’s fine.”

“I just had this feeling of… Did something happen to her?”

“I told you she’s fine. See for yourself” you say with a half-smile turning on the TV. “The news is still raging on about her”

Sure enough the news report show a picture of her at the large screen behind the reporter, with the headlines “Exclusive interview, Elyse” She’s giving an interview, photo flashes showering her as she answers questions about her relationship with Ortega -which she deflects with some mistery - and the mess that happened at the docks -which she also deflects-. You’ve got to discuss both of those with Ortega too.

Then a reporter asks her about the death of her mother… she breaks, starts tearing up… one of her PR guys says the interview is over and takes her away. The media is loving her, even if that breaks her apart.

“Don’t you love Los Diablos Quality TV?” you ask sarcastically.

“Ugh. That’s my life. I gave her a few hints but you can never be ready for questions like that.”

“What’s the deal between you two?” you ask curiously

“Ehrm… well, we talked a lot after that mess in Sunken Town… She was really sad and needed someone to dump it all on, and I kind of was there, so we started talking about losing parents… And her story was out of this world. We talked all night, and then I was going to go back home and she wanted me to stay and one thing led to another and…”

“Oh”

“It’s not like that! I mean… Ugh… Crap, I guess it is like that.?

“Sound like it is”

“But then our PR’s got involved and they loved it. They wanted to make a whole story arch about it, and I was going to say no, but she asked me to do it? I mean she said we should do it, you know, to get headlines”

“So there’s nothing serious going on?”

“Ehrm…” he seems a bit confused by the question. “I don’t know? No? Yes? Maybe?”

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s just me asking”

“Yeah, I know. Truth is, I’ve got no idea. Never met anyone who’s lost as much as her. The things she endured… And I’d like to help her but I’m not sure if she’s in the right place now. I guess we’ll have to see where it goes? You know how these things go with other heroes…”

You nod as if you knew what he was talking about, which you don’t.

“Now with thy dumpster fire love life out of the way… could you….”

“Could I what?”

“Remind me how did I fuck up so bad as to end up here?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Nope.”

“Not even…?”

“Not a clue pal. Nada.” Crap. “I guess it had to do with the docks mess that Elyise talked about?”

“It does. What’s the last thing you recall?” you ask

“I think we were at some sort of event, right?”

“... yeah, we were. Hauswald fundraiser for their new facility. Reaper hosted it...That’s when it all started going downhill. You seriously don’t remember a thing after that?”

“Hmm... I think some of it’s coming back… but it’s blurry... “ he goes silent.

“Alright, I’ll try to keep it short…”

“Why? You told me I’m not going anywhere”

“... you just... listen”

___________________________

Hauswald Foundation Charity fundraiser dinner.

Dodge to the left to avoid the punch… flip away from the kick…

One of them thinks he has the advantage and attempts to trip you, but you time your jump correctly, and he misses. THey’re all off balance… Now’s the time to take the offensive!

Leaping forward onto your three attackers, you grapple them all in your arms, lifting them as they scream in surprise before you slam them forward with all your strength.

Excellent, you tell yourself as the three kids fall off onto the bouncy castle, giggling as they try to stand up and jump. The other kids cheer at you. They really love your Sidestep persona. You’re tempted to jump in yourself, but you’ve been using the bouncy castle far too long and some of the parents are starting to give you side-eye. Stupid rules say the castle is just for kids… Oh well, better quit while you’re ahead.

“Good try, you almost got me there!” You say behind your mask. You didn’t know what to expect when Ricardo asked you to make an appearance with the Hauswald kids, but now all you want to do is keep playing with them. They had this playground built so the permanent residents could spend time with their kids until the new facilities are built. It doesn’t help that chronologically speaking, you’re probably not too far apart from their current age.

The thought makes you ponder on how would it have been to have a normal childhood like them and the whole experience suddenly becomes both sad and alien. You only wish you could have…-

“Wow. You’re amazing with kids! What other secrets do you have?�� Anathema says interrupting your thoughts.

“I’m a genetically modified monster created in a lab as a weapon designed to pass as a human and take over the world,” you say because the truth is often the better lie. You wave your arms in front of you, walking slowly to Annie, as a monster would.

“I knew it. You’re one of them eeeevil Snake-people!”

“Ha! We prefer the term Sneeple. We’re not anything like snakes!. We just happen to be poisonous” you grin under the mask.

“Sneeple” the children laugh pointing at you.

“Oh no! You’ve got me!” you cry out. “But I will not go down easily! Prepare to feel my poisonous bite Anathema!”

“I’ll defeat the Sneeple guys!” Anathema says doing a slow-motion mock-punch at you.

You fake a suitable slow-motion fall, and they all laugh it up.

“Good job,” Anathema says offering a hand

“Giving it a 101%” you chuckle as you take his hand and he lifts you up.

“You should have kids of your own one day man. You’d be great at it”

“Let’s go back into the ceremony,” you say quickly. “I think we made our appearance long enough already,” you’re ignoring his comment and hoping he won’t ever mention anything as scary and confusing as that ever again.

“Can’t wait for the big awards to be over?”

“That’s the plan, I’m not staying a second longer than I have to”

“Man you could really use some decent PR for a change, get some sort of message to your fans. There’s a magazine saying you’re secretly a Japanese ninja, coming out all the way from Kyoto in search of the murderer of your father. It’s nuts. You should get closer to the people and get a real story going...”

“Hell no, no one’s getting closer to me. Also, I happen to like that story. I think I’ll sprinkle some Japanese when I talk in public from now on...”

“Wait, you speak Japanese?!”

“Of course I do. Now If only I could find my father’s killer…”

“You asshole!” he snorts following you back inside.”

___________________________

“And without further ado, we move on to the event of the night,” Reaper says holding the mic with his good hand. He’s in a wheelchair, still with a cast arm, but the combination of an impossibly expensive Tuxedo being worn by a talking skeleton oddly makes him both look distinguished and larger than life. In an eldritch kind of way that is. His mind’s different, there’s a fire in it that you didn’t notice before. Fire. Like the Hospital burning. It’s not really very surprising that he’d get a whole new passion for rebuilding what he loves.

“We hand over the Hauswald awards to those who have contributed the most in our fight against the epidemic of death that threatens our great nation!” he announces. “The panel of judges has spoken,” he says motioning to a group of people sitting on a large table by the podium, famous all of them, reporters, politicians, artists, writers, and philosophers founding members of the Hauswald along with Reaper himself. While the founder is dead, Amanda Hauswald, his only daughter is right there too, a young blockbuster actress in her 20’s that’s set to play Elyise in her upcoming film. She rises from her chair, adjusting her gorgeous silver velvet gown and climbs to the stage, to pass several envelopes to Reaper.

Reaper thanks her, and prepares to announce the winners.

“Are you going to eat at all?” Ortega asks beside you, wearing his own white suit.

“The mask stays on”

“You could just lift up the lower part a bit” Anathema comments from the other side.

“The mask stays on” you repeat.

“But these are amazing!!” he says motioning to his plate

“That’s why I brought this,” you say tapping a large piece of Tupperware full of everything you could gather from the reception up to this point.

“You didn’t just bring that to…” Ortega looks at you appalled “You can’t… you can’t do that at events like this!”

“Just watch me,” you say defiantly. “The mask stays on, and I take my food-to-go” You’re sick of being starved every time you get dragged into something like this. The only compromise you made was letting Anathema add last-minute bowtie to your suit, which looks oddly fitting for the occasion.

“Unbelievable… fine... Just keep it out of sight, and if anyone asks, I don’t know you” Ortega says giving up.

“I still think someone leaked,” Steel tells Sentinel, from the other end of the table.”

“With half the police being corrupt, it’s not that hard for the Loan Shark to get leaks about us coming to arrest him anyways” Sentinel shoots back. “Or are you saying that one of us gave the raid away on purpose?”

Steel looks at you briefly, before answering.

“No, no I didn’t mean that… But perhaps if we kept the intel only to the inner team, we could avoid it all spreading and…”

“Let it go, it’s not against you” Annie whispers “He just angry and It could have been anyone. Like Sentinel said, half the police’s on Hollow Ground’s payroll.”

“I know… I just wish he’d trust me a bit at least” you whisper back. “I was the one who came with the ledgers in the first place”

“I’ll remind him”

“Don’t. Let it be, it’s ok” you say looking at the other tables. The raid to arrest Lewie was a bust, he had been tipped off and the office had been whipped clean. Not even a trace of the furniture and the walls had been repainted. And his safe was gone.

Your attention derails towards Elyise. She’s watching Reaper’s delivery from another table along with her own crew, investigators, photographers, and publicists. After the events with Mother, she’s become the main torchbearer to the Hauswald, possibly overshadowing Reaper himself, and the public relationship with Charge shun even more light over her rising star. Reaper’s provided her every resource, both in her hero duties and with an endless media bombardment that’s working to get her ahead in the hero-game fast. She doesn’t seem thrilled about her life being used and exposed this way, but you can’t really blame Reaper. She’s the perfect poster-child to lead the fight against the madness of loose hero-drugs trough the country, and he knows it.

Reaper goes to announce awards for artists, media representatives, film-makers, and others. Right after regular every-day hero award, he moves on to the main event of the night.

The hero awards.

The Hauswald offers one of the most coveted awards for those who care about that kind of thing. This is the main reason Ortega insisted you be here if the Rangers win, he wants you to share it with them if they win, and he somehow managed to verbally outmaneuver you into coming along. Truth is everyone expects Elyise to win this year, but Ortega’s still hoping for a new trophy.

The man must control some form of witchcraft to get you agreeing to come to something like this. Or perhaps you’re finding it harder and harder to look for excuses to keep your distance from him. The thought makes you shiver under your suit.

He takes pause as he reads the contents of the last envelope.

“Oh boy… Really?” he says, a boney hand rubbing his face. He looks back at the judges as if to double-check. They all nod at him, and he turns back to the audience. “ Well, this is going to be controversial. Alright, Light up the contenders!” he asks the organizers.

Ortega stands straight, as Steel frowns when the lights come upon your table. Something similar is happening to your left, where Captain Glory and the Phoenix Rangers are also getting ready in case they win. Elyise’s not on her table surprisingly. You can see her walking to the side, having what looks like a really nasty discussion over her phone. That’d odd…

One of her team took her chair, waiting to receive the Award for her if she happens to win.

It takes forever before Reaper finally speaks, probably trying to be theatrical.

“I am proud to announce the winner of this year’s award of the Hauswald, an individual who’s done more than anyone else to stop the scourge of power drugs. Someone who took it up to themselves to fight back against the endless spiral of death the corporations bring upon our beloved West Coast…”

You can see Ortega’s fists clenching as he looks completely tense. Captain Glory seems just as tense when Aurora takes his left hand, startling him before he smiles at her. They’re such a darn cute couple…

You end up staring at Ortega’s hand, so close to yours. You can’t stop thinking about how his suit fits him like a glove and how he looks so darn…

You force your gaze to look elsewhere as fast as you can.

Elyise’s standing by the sidelines, her phone discussion seems worsening and she looks really mad now. There are some stray thoughts coming from her. Someone wants her to do something… and she won’t have it. You can feel her anger. She feels... Threatened by something… ?

“Sadly, the winner couldn’t join us here for the event, but If they are listening, we hope this serves as the recognition they deserve, even if some of us don’t personally condone their methods of fighting the drug epidemic...” he goes on, prompting confusion through the room.

“... the winner goes by many names, but lately, media has settled on one, and it’s rather a grim one, but then again, I can’t seriously call anyone out on those grounds”

Laughs at the joke… and suspense.

“This hero has single-handedly stopped the largest rings of drug dealers throughout the city! Thanks to them, hero-drug deaths have gone to their lower point in a decade! The award goes to …

You can see Ortega biting his lip, and CAptain Glory inching at the tip of his seat.

“...Catastrofiend!”

There is a brief moment of silence amongst the crowd before everyone starts voicing their minds. Elyise looks at the stage confused, she’s clearly not been paying attention at all and trying to catch up.

“You can’t award a murderer!!!” someone cries out.

“Shut up, he cleaned up the corporation’s mess in less than a month!” someone counters. The voices start getting heated from there, with two defined sides forming very quickly around the new vigilante, booing and cheering going over one another.

Captain Glory and his team stand up at unison and start making for the door.

“We’re leaving too,” Ortega says standing up, as does Anathema realizing the party’s over.

___________________________________

Rangers HQ, infirmary, present time.

“WHAT?!” Ortega looks at you confused. “They gave the prize to that murderer?!”

“You know that’s the exact thing you said after we got through the door”

“Was Reaper out of his mind?”

“Ehh.. he was kind of all fired up, but out of his mind? No. Besides, he didn’t decide, the Hauswald board did. They’ regularly keep tabs on the price of the drugs, and when you crunch the numbers, there’s no question about it, the Catastrofiend killings have really put them on the run. They had graphs to prove it, not that anyone was hearing. Hero Drugs are almost impossible to buy in Los Diablos right now.

“But Catastrofiend’s… massacring people on the streets…!”

“Well, you know what they think of dealers at the Hauswald, especially after the old facility got burned down. They’re not even people to them anymore. And it’s been on the media since… a lot of people in the police force are speaking about how the Catastrofiend’s helping their job more than the rangers or anyone else in fact. Even the governor flirted with the idea of a pardon”

“That’s insane… What do they expect us to do? Start shooting dealers on the streets now? That award should’ve been Elyise’s”

“Rumor is that was the idea, but the board changed it without telling Reaper… They didn’t want to be seen as just pandering to whomever he chose. And perhaps they’re seeing Catastrofiend as the new Reaper”

“Yeah, back when he wasn’t suitable for kids.”

“Yeah,” you say leaning back on your chair.

He takes a few moments to digest it before speaking again.

“I guess there’s more to the story? Or did Captain Glory and I start a brawl at the exit and that got me decked here?”

“Oh no. Those… “ you say drawing a circle with your finger chest. “... those came later. We got a call right after the event.”

“What was it?”

“Anonymous caller reported there was a huge shootout ongoing at the docks. They gave enough details to match what we found on the Loan Shark’s ledgers.”

“They found him? That’s great, so he didn’t escape after all!” he says. “Wait… so the Loan Shark did this?” he asks looking at his chest again “Fucking Lewie...”

“Lewie didn’t do this.”

“What? Then who?”

“We weren’t the first to arrive...”

“They tipped him off again?”

“Catastrofiend was already there when we arrived,” you say grimacing.

He stays silent, your words sinking in slowly.

“Go on,” he says in the end.

________________________

My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #awan cormac #Chargestep #Fanfiction #Spoilers

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amillionsmiles · 6 years

Text

checking (you) out (Pidge/Lance)

Summary: Katie works the tech desk at the university library. Lance never remembers to wipe his memory card before returning the camera equipment, which is how she becomes intimately familiar with his life via, of all things, his vlogs. A/N: finally get to post this in full! Written for @plance-zine ; it was wonderful to be part of such a project, and shoutout to the mods for keeping everything running smoothly! :)

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.

People, Katie has decided, are predictable. Watch them for long enough, and their everyday motions start to read like clockwork. At 9 AM on Thursdays, she shows up for her shift behind the library’s tech desk. At 9:20, the girl with space buns and an artfully distressed jean jacket strides in, heading straight for one of the study pods. At 9:25, somebody blows through the doors in a last-minute effort to print materials for their 9:30 class. And at 10:50, ten minutes before Katie’s shift ends, Lance McClain shows up, laboring under the weight of a camera bag, backpack, and tripod.

Katie reaches for the scanner as Lance puffs his way toward her, depositing the tripod on the table with a heavy clunk. It takes him another minute to locate his student ID card: he checks the pocket of his cargo jacket first (not there—it never is) before wriggling his fingers into his jean pocket instead. When he hands the plastic over, it’s warm from being pressed against his thigh.

Katie spares it a passing glance as she pulls up the ‘Equipment Return’ form, filling in the requisite information.

“You’re good to go.” She gives him a thumbs-up, careful not to look him straight in the eye.

“Cool, thanks.” Flashing a bright grin, Lance backpedals toward the doors, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Once he’s disappeared completely from view, Katie unzips the camera bag. She flicks the dial to on and goes straight to display mode. Sure enough, the schmuck hasn’t bothered wiping the memory card.

Smirking, Katie kicks her feet up on the table and leans back in her chair.

Let the entertainment begin.

o.O.o

Lance McClain does not know her name, and Katie is completely content with this. She applied for her gig at the tech desk specifically because it required minimal human interaction. Nobody expects her to make conversation; they just want to check out equipment and leave. Occasionally she has to troubleshoot a printer jam or direct tourists to the bathrooms; most of the time, though, she just does her homework and gets paid.

Still, when someone visits at least twice a week, it’s hard not to notice. The first time Lance left recording footage behind on the camera had sparked her interest, and from there it wasn’t too hard to find his YouTube channel, Facebook, and LinkedIn. Which was how she knew that he was a second-year bio major with a side-job at the Starbucks in the Garrison, the student union, and in his free time he liked to record himself attempting to do stunts with his skateboard, if not narrating a funny story about his day or answering the call of things like the Cinnamon Challenge.

Katie and Keith had gotten halfway through that video before Keith closed her laptop.

“I can’t watch you do this to yourself,” Keith said, shaking his head. “Katie, you’re too good for him.”

“I’m hate-watching!” Katie justified, attempting to wrestle her Chromebook from Keith’s grip.

“You know way too much about him to just be ‘hate-watching,’” said Keith, making air quotes with his left hand. “You have his student ID number memorized.”

Katie glared. She regretted letting that piece of information slip. Memorizing Lance’s ID hadn’t even been intentional—it’d only happened because of how many times she’d typed his information into the system during checkout.

“You go to office hours just so you can breathe the same air as your TA for an extra 120 minutes,” she retorted. “You don’t get to lecture me on sad.”

Anyways. All of this is to say that despite what Keith thinks, she does not have a weird, borderline crush-fascination with Lance. And when she stumbles into Green Library’s 24-hr study room at 3 AM to work on a CS project, he’s the last person she’s expecting to see.

Lance is slouched in a swivel chair, earbuds plugged into the desktop in front of him. One dangles loosely around his neck, the other shoved in his ear. Upon hearing someone else enter, he lurches to attention. Katie pretends not to notice—she fully intends to sit on the other side of the room—but Lance doesn’t give her the chance.

“Hey! You’re tech-desk girl!”

It’s a dumb nickname. Definitely not something to get excited about, and Katie schools her features to reflect that. She’s above all… this. Unaffected. “I have a name.”

A quirk of the lips. Lance somehow manages to hook an ankle around the chair closest to him and spins it so the seat faces toward her, an offering. “Wanna tell it to me?”

It’s uncannily close to the Pick-up Line Challenge video he posted to his account a month ago. Katie tries not to think too hard about that.

“What’s in the thermos?” she asks instead, setting her backpack down and warily accepting the chair.

“Redbull and coffee.” Lance’s leg bounces under the table, fingers tapping a jittery rhythm on the keyboard. “Wanna try some?”

“No thanks. It sounds unholy.”

“Oh, it is. Definitely a personal low, but sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.” As he gulps his strange concoction, Lance’s face wrinkles, throat flexing as if he’s swallowed a frog. “God, this is like… sacrilege for me.” His voice lowers, confiding. “I’m a barista.”

“I know,” blurts Katie. Immediately after, she freezes, hoping that the comment will drop unnoticed.

No such luck. Lance raises an eyebrow, questioning. A strange light has entered his eyes; by admitting that she’s paid attention to him, Katie has suddenly become the sole focus of his attention.

How much to admit? Best to be blunt—rip it off like a bandaid. The best defense is offense, and all that.

“You never delete your videos off the camera before you return it,” she says.

Whatever explanation Lance had been anticipating, this one catches him off guard. His face contorts as he tries to process the information. “I—my videos?”

It’s almost too easy, slipping into the impersonation. “Hey guys, it’s ya boi Lance, and today I’ll be—”

“Okay, okay.” Lance waves his hands, cutting her off. “Please do not continue.”

“I thought you’d be flattered hearing your own lines back at you.”

“Not like that, it’s weird! You make me sound like a tool.” He sighs. “Well, now I’m disappointed.”

Katie frowns. “Why?”

“I don’t know! I thought it’d be cool if you knew stuff about me because I was like, your secret Starbucks crush or something.” At this, he shoots her a hopeful look.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“We sell other stuff. Also, you still haven’t told me your name.”

“It’s Katie,” she finally relents, breaking eye contact to pull her laptop out of her bag. When she looks over again, Lance is resting his chin on his hand, staring at her thoughtfully.

“What.”

“So does this mean you subscribe to my YouTube channel?”

“No.”

Lance pouts. “Why not?”

“I like the raw footage better. It’s funnier. Like the first take of the spicy noodle challenge, where you spewed milk out of your nose? Classic.” She cranes her neck to look over his shoulder. “What are you working on, anyways?”

“Nothing!” Lance pushes his body between her and the screen, the broad line of his back blocking her view.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing if you’re being like that.”

“Hey, haven’t you heard about this thing called privacy? 4th Amendment! Search and seizure! Gimme back the mou— ow!”

Years of wrestling with Matt has made Katie adept at underhanded maneuvers; with Lance still rubbing his side from where she pinched him, she takes control of the mouse and opens up the window he’d minimized earlier. Onscreen, several scenes are being recolored and spliced together; she recognizes the footage from earlier today.

“Do you always make your videos on the school computers?”

“I have my own laptop. It’s just shitty and will only run like, 2 programs at a time, and all that’s being directed towards a stats project right now.” Lance eyes her sideways. “Hey, what major are you? Or, wait—are you a freshman? Have you even declared yet—”

“I’m a sophomore. Computer science and math.”

“Ah, the double major.” Lance nods, then puffs out his chest. “Guess what I am.”

Common sense tells Katie that she should play dumb. Let him have the satisfaction of correcting her. But her overwhelming need to prove she knows things wins out.

“Pre-med bio.”

Lance blinks. “Wow, first guess.” His surprise turns sly. “You do have a crush on me.”

Katie rolls her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. All it takes is a quick LinkedIn search.”

“Yeah, but you only fully read through someone’s LinkedIn when you’re a) hiring or b) evaluating their bae potential. It’s okay—” he holds up a hand, cutting off her protest, “—I’m honored, truly.”

“You’re ridiculous.” This entire interaction has gone so far off the rails, she doesn’t know how to begin redirecting it. Lance, meanwhile, shifts focus easily, pulling a camera out of his backpack and popping the lens cap off with practiced ease. The next thing Katie knows, it’s pointed at her, Lance narrating: “You’ve heard of Sleepless in Seattle, but we’re here with Sleepless in the Study Room, guest-starring my new friend Katie!”

“What—who said we were friends?” says Katie, trying to duck out of the frame. Lance is an unerring videographer, though; he follows every motion. Backed into a corner, Katie swats at the lens before remembering that it’s from the tech desk and, therefore, her responsibility. She stays her hand.

“We’ve been talking for over half-an-hour,” Lance says, flashing his phone at her, where 3:30 AM makes itself known in thin white strokes. “I’d say that counts for something.”

His smile is bright and close. It’s probably the lack of sleep that’s making her loopy, but the feeling underneath her skin is not unlike a sugar rush.

“I guess,” she says.

o.O.o

She regrets everything the next morning. The minute she gets behind the tech desk, Katie thumps her head down and starts calculating. If she naps in ten minute increments, maybe she’ll recuperate some of her lost sleep and still manage to do her job.

The hours crawl by slowly. At 10:50, the characteristic whoosh of the automatic doors awakens her from her latest sleep cycle, and from somewhere above, an entirely too chipper voice says: “You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“This is your fault,” Katie groans, raising her chin to glower at Lance. “Because of you, I got distracted, and then I had to stay up even later to finish coding.”

“I know, I was there. You are a very aggressive programmer, by the way.”

“Just pass over your card so I can check this equipment back in,” she grumbles, wiggling her fingers in demand. Instead, though, Lance curls her fingers around a warm paper cup.

Katie stares at it blankly. “I told you I didn’t drink coffee.”

“It’s my special blend,” Lance insists. “You’ll like it, promise.”

“Yeah, well, it’s going to have to wait ten minutes,” sighs Katie, pushing it to the side and heaving the camera and tripod over the desk. “I’m not allowed to have drinks back here. On-duty policy.”

“Then I’ll keep it safe in the meantime,” says Lance, snatching it back. “I’ll just be over here.”

Katie watches him stake out a table. Blinks a few times, to confirm that he’s still there. This isn’t part of their usual routine. It feels strange but not entirely unwelcome.

When she flicks to the camera’s memory card, it’s clean. That’s weird, too—that they actually had a fully fledged conversation, and he took something she said to heart. In fact, the other night, she’s pretty sure she made him laugh. And there’d been a moment, where Lance had tipped his head back, eyes crinkling, and Katie had thought: shit, maybe Keith had been onto something after all.

When her shift ends, she heads over to the table that Lance has staked out. In characteristic Lance fashion, he’s already found a way to unfold himself over all the available space: backpack slung over the back of an empty chair, feet kicked up on the seat opposite him. Katie nudges them aside as she sits down, reaching over to grab her coffee, and Lance’s face brightens.

“By the way, your earbuds aren’t plugged in completely,” she says, sipping her drink. Lance, despite only knowing her from their interactions the night before, has somehow guessed at her sweet tooth, and the foamy latte goes down easily. “Nice music.”

Lance rips the buds from his ears, gaping down at his phone in horror. Onscreen, a disturbingly animated baby waves its arms, singing, Yes papa, as a banjo strums in the background. Katie marks that down as another piece of information on Lance: listens to educational children’s music in his free time.

“In my defense, it’s for a project.”

“Sure it is,” she says, slapping Lance’s hand away when he tries to grab the coffee back in retaliation, and it’s so natural to mess with him like this, to laugh and call him noodle arms and have everybody else glare at them for being disruptive.

I think it counts for something, Lance had said the other night.

Something, indeed.

#voltron #pidge #lance #plance #vld pidge #vld lance #otp: teenage dream meme team #my writing #fanfiction #ff: voltron

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