#and both old ds and the new one are split into sections of what they were like at different times

[onebizarrekai]

Hello! Are you still in the Undertale fandom? If so, are you still answering questions about your AU? It's been a long time since I've been here and I had some questions that I was too shy to ask myself 😅

I'm not really in the fandom anymore (of course, I will forever love undertale itself) and all my old aus are no longer in the works as branches of the fandom. a handful of them are like "I'll pick this up and fix it as something better when the time is right." if you ask questions about them in their current state, I dunno if I'll have much to say, if it hasn't already had something said about it a long time ago. the story ended up in this weird spot where I was making all these changes to make it more elaborate but never really finished doing that so I ended up with a whole lot of ideas and not much coherency.

I feel like I don't really want to put my foot in the door about ds too much as an au, like, most of the stuff I could say is like "well, yeah, if you found a post that said that, it's probably true, but it could be different when it's rewritten." it's ok if you ask stuff, but I'm not really working on it anymore and there are a lot of plot holes. I feel like a lot of the stuff I came up with at different times was really silly too, so it'll feel weird answering questions as fact about things that are technically true but not really things that feel legit. if I get to answer questions objectively and sort of tie them into the current state of the characters, or like, talk about their development, I don't mind if you ask things.

(maybe I'm being too hard on it. ds does a great job just simply existing and knowing it's ridiculous. the silly choices work if it's like this. the short comics I made in 2020-ish were great examples of what ds was fun to use for, ahaha)

[obey-r-us]

Devildom Shelter and Rehabilitation Center Ch. 1

WARNINGS: (GN Dom Reader known as Dr. MC with You and They pronouns), Xenobiology/philia, Game hunting/Poaching, Angst, Gore/Body Horror, Possessiveness, Medical, Sex Toys technically, Monsterfuckery, Whump, Polyamory, Mention of fighting rings/neglect/abuse, People being shitty, World building go brrr, Other tags to be added

Similar to Pet AU by @phantasmiafxndom and The SCP Fandom (both contain dark content beware!!)

You and your friend Solomon work together at Devildom, a shelter and rehabilitation center for all sorts of Demons ranging from Little Ds/Imps to your average Demons, but now you have 7 new patients. Avatar Class Demons. These more monstrous creatures haven’t been seen in so long, that taking care of them will be an absolute priority.

Today seemed like a normal day, you got up and went through your morning routine like clockwork. Solomon was always at work before you but the two of you liked to make it a game even if you always ‘lost’, but your coworker knew not to push you too far out of his respect for your dedication to helping the Demons that inhabit your shared workplace. An old castle used to be where the large spread of buildings sit, though some argued that letting the crumbling mass be torn down instead of being preserved for historical value plagued the area around your work space despite the more than prepared guards who were suited up to handle any type of attack. Human or Demon. 

Passing by the guards with quick greetings you entered into the lobby where the hall split into two directions, to the left for visitors and to the right for staff. You waved to the barely awake Amanda before scanning your keycard and ID and standing back as the heavy steel doors whirred to life and their inner mechanisms unlocked with heavy clunking sounds. Once the light turned on you pushed your way past the parting doors and didn’t flinch as they quickly slammed shut behind you, creating a puff of air against your back. You turned to the break room and saw Solomon already sipping a cup of coffee, pointing to another one on the counter next to him. 

“You didn’t let it cool down did you?” You ask, face scrunching up at the idea as you put your belongings on the table nearby and grabbed the cup. Good, it was still warm. 

“You know I would never do something that cruel to you, my star pupil.” He smiled over the rim of his cup while you sat down in one of the chairs tucked into the table.

“Yeah yeah you old fart~” You tease back, rolling your eyes in fake annoyance. It had been so long since you joined Devildom and was tucked under the Demonologist Solomon King’s wing, it’s hard to even remember what it was like back then when you didn’t know any better about the cute and creepy hidden behind those heavy doors. 

At first you found him arrogant and unnecessarily cryptic but over time you realized that wasn’t all who was, he deserved to be confident since he was one of if not the most knowledgeable Demonologist in the country, even back in Jerusalem he was renowned for his abilities so his reputation was nothing but pure gold to work with. At least now you could appreciate your mentor’s personality, though his ability to cook would have you rather eating the bricks your joint workspace was built with. You sipped your coffee and idly played on your phone until a timer went off to alert you that it was almost time to clock in and officially start the work day. 

You stood up and walked over to your locker and kneeled, quickly unlocked it via inputting your personal keycode. Solomon chugged the last of his coffee and offered you a hand to help you up, which you took with a silly expression as you tossed your now empty coffee cup into the trashcan by the door. The two of you walked together down the hall and turned into a section of rooms where the Little Ds were kept. You handed Solomon a clipboard and free pen before you pulled on some protective gloves and shoe covers as per policy when interacting with any class of Demon. The Imps kept in their little containment units weren’t a huge risk but it was better to be safe than sorry, since it was so early for the typically nocturnal creatures you were coming in to inspect them a bit before they needed to go to bed. Solomon read over the previous inspection papers from the earlier shift as you unlocked the first door into the Yellow Unit and stepped in only to be greeted by the loud chirps and growls of the bouncy demons at your feet. 

The round shadowy demons scattered around your boots, claws yanking at the protective sleeve despite not being able to tear the industrial material. You counted all the little heads and relayed to Solomon. 

“I count 21 Yellow Imps. Can you confirm?” You ask, eyes not leaving the crowd below as Solomon counted them in record time, nodding and writing down the number. 

“I confirm 21 Yellow Imps. Do you see Number 2?” He asked as you knelt down slowly into the swarm of small creatures, hands parting the crowd in order to find the one you needed.

Number 2 let out a cackling noise as he skittered up into your hands, mouth stretched into a huge grin. You nod, “I have found Number 2, do I proceed?” 

Solomon rereads the entry from the previous sheet of paper and gives you a thumbs up without looking up from the clipboard. So you let the demon crawl up your shoulder so you can hear him better as you inspect the rest of the Greed Imps, fingers pressing into their mostly solid bodies and watching how their ombre eyes move under your practiced gaze. Number 2 happily chattered away in your ear as he updated you on what happened during the night time shift. Of course you had to double check with Solomon to make sure everything on paper was accurate to the recordings of earlier. 

You noted out loud, “Number 16 and Number 9 apparently fought over a piece of food that ended in them clawing at each other so hard that the head covers that looked similar to comically small top hats that were knocked off which resulted in a small bout of confusion in figuring out which ‘hat’ belonged to who.” 

After you felt Number 21’s fangs to make sure that they were in safe condition you let them down and let the smaller demon float away back into a small separate group amongst the room of Imps. Number 2 gripped your ear but you cooed at him and ran the pad of your thumb over his horns. 

“I know, little guy but Dr. King and I have to go inspect the other Imps okay? We’ll see you again in the middle of our shifts for your afternoon vitals check and once more for your breakfast once it’s night time. I pinky promise~” You giggle as you feel your finger get hugged and rubbed against by a chubby cheek before Number 2 let you put him back down on the ground to rejoin the rest of his friends.

You looked around before standing up fully and stepping carefully to avoid squashing any shadow demons before Solomon followed suit, shutting the door behind him and locking it and checking off the status of the Yellow Unit. The rest of inspections went as smooth as possible for having to handle 126 other Imps, especially with the more volatile natures of Envy in the Orange Unit and Wrath in the Green Unit, who always fought for your attention and each other during this time of day. 

The Sloth Imps always gave you nerves at how limp they would look when laying on the ground as if dead and deflated but with enough practice you were able to tell that all of them were simply asleep or playing dead to avoid having to do much during your inspection. Sometimes their sleep schedules would mess with the typical nocturnal activities of demons but Sloth Imps simply operated a little differently than their 6 Alternates.

Right after locking the Sloth’s Purple Unit, Solomon’s radio came to life and a voice from another employee shouted out. “ALL S RANK STAFF MEMBERS TO LOADING DOCK. I REPEAT: ALL S RANK STAFF TO LOADING DOCK! WE HAVE A CODE A-R. CODE A-R. OVER AND OUT!” 

Solomon’s calm smile broke into a near manic grin as he slipped the clipboard into the bin by the Purple Unit’s door and grabbed you by the wrist. Your memory shook as you went through all the codes in your workbook and what A-R could mean while Solomon whipped through lower ranked staff members like a bat out of Hell (heh). 

I-S meant Imps, and if they were a single color class then the first letter of their color would be listed. I-S-Y, for Yellow. For example.

L-D meant Lower Demons. Your typical run of the mill average creature without any color class, though L-D-S and L-D-I was for Succubi and Incubi and needed more specific security features in order to make sure only specialized staff members would work with the charming demons. 

H-D was for the less common Higher Demon, which was honestly just there just in case Devildom actually did somehow get a stronger demon in their facility. 

CODE KING was the reddest of red flags. There was a King Demon a very, very, very long time ago but he eventually went to Sleep and his son took over along with a servant/guardian demon but those were practically mythical demons, similar to the rusty CODE G which was reserved for High Ranking Angels. But you didn’t work with Angels so you barely knew anything about what their codes would be. 

A-R… CODE A-R… 

“Oh shit-” You mumbled out loud as Solomon slapped his clearance pass against the key reader and brought you into the giant loading dock, which could be compared to a large warehouse in regards to size and space.

A-R meant Avatar Class Demons. Not quite as powerful as those that would warrant a Code King, but those that were so beyond the strength of Higher Demons that they had to get their own category. Avatars hadn’t been sighted since The Great Depression, where the country basically became an upper level of Hell until things got back to normal. Not that you would consider nowadays to be Heavenly but it was better than back then. 

Devildom’s personal militia came into the loading dock with seven large reinforced cubes, slight dents and scratches just barely showing under the dock’s bright lights. That was definitely a concern. Those cubes weren’t cheap because they were special made for the strongest demons you had on record. That is, ever since the last sighting of any of the seven Avatars. Wait- there were seven cubes. If you didn’t count that two were connected on their own separate bed that pulled the ungodly weight inside of course. 

You looked to Solomon and he looked back to you, the expression on his face was a mixture of sheer horror and absolutely nerding out. And the noises from inside some of the cubes didn’t help with your instinctive urge to hide away… But you didn’t get this job because you were a weak willed coward, you passed all the tests and waivers with flying colors, even able to resist the charm abilities of the Succubi/Incubi in containment and back at the testing range. 

You gripped Solomon’s hand for a brief moment before letting out a sigh and stepping forward to meet up with another S Rank Scientist who was also star struck at the trembling metallic cubes.

“Dr. Smith what do you know so far, we heard you over the radio.” Solomon spoke up as you looked over your shoulder to the cubes being carted away to a different part of the dock in order to figure out the rest of the processing order. 

“We got a call from a small group of hikers who noticed that a mansion nearby that was previously in pristine condition last week was now engulfed in flame, with giant holes and what looked like bite or claw marks in the wall and surrounding vehicles. Then of course the noises of people screaming and intense violence as one demon flew out of the flames to pluck a running man up and tossed him into the air like a toy before being let to crash into the ground. No casualties from the reporting group but they just narrowly were able to escape.” Smith sighed, her lip tightening as one cube bucked on its bed as whatever was inside was beginning to wake up from the countless shots of paralytics and tranquilizers, potentially sedatives if the previous ones weren’t enough.

“Looks like someone’s waking up, we need to get these demons under control so we can safely process them. Get Rogers and Ubah and the S-Medics and we’ll meet you at the lab okay?” You say before dragging Solomon with you to the lab with a group of armored guards around you. It was best that you go into the lab protected in case those cubes didn’t hold back the rowdy demon inside. Part of you couldn’t help but be impressed by the damage the metallic walls were handling before showing any signs of violence from the inhabitants. 

After a bit of anxious waiting the lab showed a green light above the doors and a loud buzzing sound was heard. Your team slowly entered the doorway as Smith jogged up to you. 

“It’s not as bad as we thought but it’s still pretty rough. One demon has had a pair of wings cut off, another is currently regrowing severed limbs while the one that woke up early is muzzled despite being able to spit acid, but the metal is still keeping the mouth mostly shut.” She said, leading you and Solomon to the slightly smaller part of the lab where the two of you gazed through secured glass to see the creatures being carefully processed by nurses operating machines and some guards near the enter and exit ways in each section of the processing tables.

Their forms were unlike you had ever seen before, much larger than even your biggest demons in the entirety of Devildom. Since the full reveal of the unconscious bodies wasn’t completely visible you had to guess the giant insectoid centaur with double the amount of nurses and guards working on it was just one example on how large and monstrous Avatars could get. 

Smith must’ve heard you thinking and commented, “The one with a separate team has a fast metabolism so they need to work twice as fast to avoid waking it up and potentially eating someone. It was found halfway through swallowing part of a pick up truck.”

Your stomach coiled at the idea of eating metal but you were human, gifted as all get out but that was still a big leap to try and take. You made sure to balance the clinical and compassion as you were walked away into another area where you were going to observe each individual demon with assistance as others like you did the same. 

It took quite a while but soon enough you watched as the demon you were assigned was deposited into a large transparent cell kept inside a larger cube made of layered metal like the cubes back in the loading dock. It laid there limply on the ground, slowly breathing in and out as the medication was still racing through the demon’s system. 

You look to your side at the table of supplies given to you and you pressed the button on your recording equipment to begin a live documentation, as customary.

“This is Dr. MC doing a first observation of one of the seven Avatars transported to Devildom Shelter and Rehabilitation Center as of 7:39 AM on May 8th 2022. Subject is currently unconscious from processing but vitals show no need for concern, administered medication has done its job and the demon should be waking up within the hour. While full visual of the creature’s body is impossible at the moment, what can be noted is that the full length from head to tail is approximately 2.3 meters. Height and weight to be added in later upon observation. It has gold and black feather that cover most of the body while some metallic scales appear underneath some, especially near the feet and underbelly that extends from the bottom jaw to the end of the tail.” 

The demon twitches slightly and you pause for a moment as it shifts slightly on the flat floor, a talon scratches into the stone ground. 

“7:46 AM, signs of waking up are already noticeable with sudden muscle movement. One primary talon appears to be up to 35 centimeters long… Two spiraling horns exit from the temples of the skull that end in a curved point with an estimated length of 59 centimeters. The right horn has a reforming sawline in it, but has been wrapped and braced to avoid any further damage.”

You take a sip of water and continue to watch as your assigned demon slowly begins to move, it’s wings flexing to reveal a fleshy underside that was previously covered by a  thick skin that peeked from some feathers near the first shoulder blade. You make sure to make note of the bronze colored claws at the ends of the black skinned wings as well as the strange white bones that you should be struggling to see through the dark skin but they appear to be highlighted in a luminous powder. Strange. 

Some time passes… This was always the tense part of processing new demons. The waiting… It was akin to climbing to the top of a rollercoaster but never quite reaching the top until your patient woke up with typically unhappy responses. It was a test of patience, that's for sure.

“8:14 AM, Avatar is unresponsive but does have occasional activity of the muscles and quicker breathing that lasts for fifteen seconds before calming down to a slow rhythm. The wings have attempted flapping but don’t do much before tiring out and folding back into the sides of the subject’s back, almost as if a type of camouflage as the dark skin blends in with the darker parts of the feathers coating its body. Will keep an eye on that aspect in further testing.”

A groan cuts through the air as your demon starts twitching again, the white feathers around its head puff up as the face scrunches up like someone was shining a bright light in the demon’s face. You looked up to the ceiling and personally didn’t find the lights that bright but if it was to be compared to the sun just barely being up outside the facility you would note how that might feel different for someone who was drugged out of their mind. 

“Mmmmnngff…” The demon slurs out with effort, visibly trying to shake itself awake from the heavy weight of the medication.

“8:26 AM, subject is now making noise and attempting to force the body to move…” You say quieter than before just in case the demon continues making any noise.

A few minutes of silence… You sigh under your breath and watch as it squirms weakly on the ground, the feathers at the end of the long tail fluttering slightly. You fidget in your seat, tilting your head slightly to see if there were any more of those white feathers surrounding the demon’s tanned humanoid face but only the front claws had some white on them, potentially white from the powder that made the bones of the wings’ underside stand out more against the skin. Your mind couldn’t help but think when those white feathers puffed up that your demon looked like a dandelion, which was very amusing despite how dangerous an Avatar Class Demon could get.

A few more slurred noises as the creature slowly tried shaking off the slumber, kicking out a hind leg and stretching it out so that the dark talons could fully flex. The tail flicked once more. Then the two wings fanned out at a marvelous length despite being shorter than a normal avian would need in order to carry their body length. Stunning. The gold of the feathers glimmered against the ceiling’s set of lights and you couldn’t help but stand up from your chair and walk a bit closer to the clear container. 

Suddenly two eyes popped open, a blur of blue and yellow almost made them look gray against the orange tinted sclera. The pupils widened upon seeing you on the other side of the glass before the demon bolted from you and puffed up, baring a set of large teeth that were oddly blunt versus the sets of canines that were a good 13 centimeters long each. It squawked at you and flapped the short wings, obviously showing off how big and dangerous this demon could be and you simply stood there and watched, putting a hand up to tell the guards by the door to stand down as you could hear the sound of their boots hitting the ground in order to protect you.

“Hello there,” You wave up at the demon who snarled at you and flared the few tail feathers up at you, which almost looked like a face if you looked at the arrangement at the right angle. “I’m Dr. MC and I’m not here to hurt you. You’re safe here. The rest of the demons you were found with are being taken care of too. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The demon clawed at the wall behind it and to the side before giving up and then trying to headbutt the glass separating you and it. You ask again, keeping your voice calm but firm.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

A pause before the demon made a strange noise akin to clearing its throat before the guttural noises peeled back into a voice you found oddly human. It wasn’t a nice voice but you don’t blame it for being scared.

“Why should I trust what you say, puny human?” The demon spat out at you, finally deflating a little while still holding eye contact. 

You give it a shrug, “You don’t have to, I just know that some poachers saw you and your group and decided to get it on your claws and such. The carnage was reported and we safely transported you here so no one else would get hurt, including the seven of you.”

It rolled it’s eyes at you before squinting, “They tried to saw off my horn! They got what they deserved.” The creature growled, reaching up as if to make sure the horn was still there, only to pause at the brace and bandages holding the nearly severed horn in the right position. 

You smiled as the dots finally started connecting in the demon’s mind. You? A human. Or well, a set of humans. Gathered his brothers together to get away from those disgusting hunters who treated them like garbage? Why would you do something like that?

“That’d be a shame, they’re very nice horns. I don’t think I’ve ever seen horns that spiral so many times.” You say, looking up at them nonchalantly. 

“Don’t try to butter me up! You have me in a cage! Why I oughta…” The feathers began to puff up again as the demon slammed a hand down.

The guards tried to move but you turned to them and shouted, “I TOLD YOU TO STAND DOWN.” 

The demon’s eyes widened slightly as the strange humans holding guns backed away from you and went back to the area by the door. Such a soft thing like you caring so much but still having so much authority in your voice… He hated to admit it but that was impressive to see. So he wouldn’t! 

You turn back to it, “I apologize. These types of containment areas are temporary, once you’re all cleared for rehabilitation we can get you set up in ones much more comfortable and personable if that’s to you liking. We’ve never had an Avatar here, much less seven all at once! It will take a while so sorry for the inconvenience and discomfort. Speaking of which, since we’re speaking now. Do you have a name that humans can utter in order to address you?”

He stepped back slightly, what kind of trick was this? Some good cop bad cop schtick? This Avatar of Sin knew much better! Well, usually… It had been so long to have a human stay cautious but still so kind despite how easy it would be to reenact what happened back at that horrible mansion in the forest…

“You may call me The Great Mammon. And ‘m guessin you want to know my sin too? Well, it’s Greed so my new nest better be full of only the best things.” He smirked, puffing out his scaly chest so you could see how broad it was. 

“Of course Mammon, Avatar of Greed. We’ll see what we can do.” You turn to the recording equipment and speak more clearly, “8:38 AM, subject self identified as The Great Mammon, the Avatar of Greed. It has passed the observational period and soon it will be-” “It? Do I look like a lamp to ya human?! You can use He for me or nothin at all.” He huffed. Why were facing away from him now? He surely hadn’t bored you already.

You bowed in apology, “Correction: Mammon uses He/Him pronouns. Not Negotiable. He will soon enter the interview period where we can piece together the story on how Mammon and other six Avatars got into Devildom’s care. End of recording.” You press a finger down on the button to stop recording and then reach for your water, taking a few swigs before turning to speak to Mammon again.

“My name isn’t human by the way. You can call me MC although you will hear me addressed as Dr. MC with They/Them pronouns.  I will have to do stuff like record official conversations and whatnot between us for the people in charge but during times like this we can be a little more casual, but remember you’re not in charge or in danger while here. We’ll need you to work with us so we can make sure you and your group recover safely before even thinking of releasing you back into the wild, okay? We can’t promise perfection, but we can try.” You smile at Mammon as he looks down at you at his default height on all fours at 1.7 meters tall, you estimate while standing on his hind legs he’d be around double or so that. 

You’ll make sure to make note of that later. 

“So Mammon, those medications must have you feeling pretty woozy. I’m guessing you’ll want some food and water that isn’t human flesh sometime soon?” You ask, knowing the guards never fully got used to how casual your tone got when not doing Big Doctor Stuff. 

He shrugged slightly, “I’m kinda thirsty but not so hungry. But Beelzebub will definitely be hungry if he isn’t already, I’d watch your arms around him. Those are like french fries to him.”

You blink at him, “Which one’s Beelzebub?”

Mammon raised a brow at you before remembering you didn’t know his name until he told you. “The big fly guy, ya know? Honeycomb eyes, buzzes loud and was covered in blood.” He waved a claw in a vague gesture like how his brother would fly around.

You nod, “Oh right! Big guy that Beelz… I’ll make sure to pass that along-”

He interrupted you, “And when you mentioned not promising perfection! Don’t say that to Lucifer, the big black feathered mostly bird guy with the long neck. He DEMANDS perfection, stubborn asshole…” 

You were happy to learn more of the names of the Avatars at Devildom. Apparently they were all brothers who were traveling to a bigger area to spread out and hunt in until those poachers got each of them in sets of snares, traps and blowgun-like tools to give them stuff to make them unable to move. 

Poor Lucifer (Pride) was fully conscious when having his lower set of wings torn off… Beelzebub (Gluttony) would be regenerating his sliced off arms and one leg back soon but it was still gruesome. Satan’s (Wrath) metal muzzle would have to be removed while he was still under or else his acid would make whoever was operating on him turn into swiss cheese. Thankfully Belphegor (Sloth) and Asmodeus (Lust) were mostly unharmed as the hooved demon was just choking out whatever he could reach with his tail while Asmodeus the drama queen now had cuts on his smooth skin and scratches on his glistening carapace. 

Solomon was assigned Asmodeus for observational period and it became very evident that Asmo ruled over Lust via his “demonstration” of trying to charm Solomon and then throwing a tantrum before “giving him a show” so that he could see how truly beautiful The Avatar of Lust was. Cleaning crew was going to have a field day in his containment cell. 

[dragonoracle]

Let’s talk about why my Mom did not bond with me and why my Maternal Grandma did.

I think the best thing to do is start at the beginning. I was born one month after my parents first child had died. This sister is my older sister but she was not really a part of our lives. (She will be called from now on DS = Dead Sister in this blog if she is ever brought up.) I think in our entire house there was only one picture of DS and maybe one at my paternal grandmother. I know my mother did have a baby book for DS but she kept it put away out of sight. So was the picture. The picture was shoved to the top of a book shelf in the living room. This death did make it hard if not impossible for my parents to bond with me. Well I should say for my Mom to bond with me. My Dad has made it clear several times that he ever wanted kids and only had me and my siblings because he liked having sex with my Mom. (The next post will go into my details on this point.) But my Mom never let that death go. And this death seemed to have warped my Mom’s mind where my early years are concerned. Whenever I have brought this up to her she always points out that she made me two baby books and will blame my MGM (Maternal Grandmother) for interfering with any bonding we could have done. I want to break down these two excuses one at a time as they both irritate me and upset me. The Baby Books my mother made for me are creepy to tell you all. Not in that way you get when seeing your baby pictures. They seem to document every day of my life until around the time I was two years old. My DS died when she was two years old. As if she was expecting me to die at the same age. My baby book even has a section of my umbilical cord in a little sealed baggy (yes it’s as gross as it sounds). Neither of my sisters’ or brother’s baby books have their cords in it. Also my sisters who are twins only have one shared book and my brother has half a book. It’s almost like once I didn’t die she stopped caring for me. She focused on my sisters and then my brother. She bonded with them but stayed distant with me. Her complaints that my MGM interfered with any bonding we could have had are all lies. My MGM had explained to me (when I was around 18 I think) that my Mom never bounded with me. She took care of me (feeding, changing, and bathing…etc). But once my needs where met that she would set me down or hand me off to another family member. My MGM stepped up and took a major interest in my life as a baby and that carried threw as a kind. She bonded with me and provided me the love and attention that all babies need to grow and thrive. My MGM loved my siblings but our bound was stronger than her bound with them. Partly due to them not needing a mother figure in their lives, partly due to the interference of my Mom, and partly due to how my MGM actually parented when we were in her care.

The distant and lack of bonding with me made my life and relationship with my siblings hard and very abusive. They would bully and beat me up a lot. They would steal my stuff and keep it for themselves. Give my bike to their friends to use so I could not fallow them. Take my diaries and share them with my Mom to get me in trouble for the feelings I had written there. They would break or destroy their stuff and then try and blame me for the breaking of the stuff. Or just try to break my stuff.  My parents did not care nor punish my siblings for doing these things. Or even punish me for defending myself or standing up for myself. Saying the line “You’re the oldest and as such need to set an example for them” or some variation of that. This worked to build their bond between my parents and my siblings.

My MGM on the other hand would punish my siblings for doing them same thin. This would also keep my siblings from wanting to from a relationship with our MGM (cause they where spoiled brats not wanting to get punished). One example of her standing up for me was when we were kids me and my two sisters had been given these lovely cloth merry go round horses. They were kept at my MG house as most of our toys where due to how bad and disgusting our living conditions (to be explained in a latter post.) They each had tails made of color yarn and ribbons. My siblings one day when we were dropped off at my MGM’s house to be watched went back to the room that my Sisters’ merry go round horses were stored. I had joined my MGM in watching TV as we liked to do. Then my siblings came running out and lied that I had cut off the tail of S1’s horse tail. My MGM called them out as she had been in that room and seen the Horse and its tail had been intact before we had arrived and as I had just sat down with my grandmother on my arrival and not moved since. My Mom always blamed my MGM for why I never bonded with my siblings. She also would say that my MG could only bond with the first born grandchildren of each of her children. She always explains it as because my MGM mother died shortly after I think my MGM’s sister was born. My MGM’s father remarried and her stepmother was kind and caring till her stepmother and her father had their own child. Then my MGM and he sister where pushed aside. I have always felt this was just bull shit and excuses. My Mom would take glee in always telling me that had DS lived my MGM would have focused and bonded with DS and I would not have been the favored child. This has gone on ever since my MGM died. My Mom would never have told me that while my MGM was alive cause she figured that I would tell my MGM about what she said. My Mom has since poisoned my siblings with these thoughts and they went with it. It’s made it hard to talk with my sisters about this as they always mimic my Mom’s words back to me.

Saddest part is that my MGM didn’t feel this way at all. She loved all her grandchildren. But did not agree with how my parents (latter just my Mom) where raising us(the continued abuse and bullying I was receiving from my siblings, the lack of punishment and stopping of the behaviors by my parents, and the allowing of my siblings to do dangerous and illegal activities). After my parents divorced and my Mom moved us to a new state my MGM would send $20 a week to be split between the four of us. Then as first my B and S1 started to smoke she had the money to be split between me and S2. Then when S2 started to smoke I was to get the whole amount of the $20. My Mom was upset and angered by this and often said that my siblings were upset by this (and maybe they where I have no idea) but my MGM had hoped and explained this to us and my mother that she would not pay for my siblings to smoke. This didn’t stop my mother from trying by “borrowing” the $20 from me to help with groceries till I found out that she was using the $20 to help pay for my siblings cigarettes  I stopped giving my Mom the $20’s and told her that I would tell my MGM what was she was doing. This stopped my Mom asking me for the $20’s. (Note my mother has never once paid me back for any money borrowed.)

My Mom was not above using the fact I was close to my MGM. She used me almost all the time to ask my MGM for money. Mainly because she felt and knew my MGM would be hard pressed to turn me down. It got so bad that when I would call my MGM I had to make it known to my MGM that no I was not calling for my Mom to ask for money.

She was deeply saddened by the distance that my siblings put between her and them. They stopped calling her on holidays and never wished her a happy birthday. As such she decided to stop sending them gifts. She would still send my siblings cards for holidays and for their birthdays. She just stopped giving them money. She did make it clear to them and my Mom that they just needed to reach out. But it was too late to repair much of the relationship. I do have some memories of my mother half halfheartedly bonding with me in my latter years that where clearly after thoughts and more meant to prove my growing feelings wrong. Or where just either forced on her to deal with my learning disability or cause it made her look bad. These bonding attempts where also always pushed aside quickly either to focus on my siblings or because I was not that receptive to them. These only hurt any relationship we could have had. Now I’m not saying if what my MGM did with her relationship with my siblings was right or wrong but I do understand why she did it. I’m not saying that she did everything right with our relationship. But I will say that without it my already very turmeric childhood would have been truly nightmarish. And I would not be the person I am today. For that I will always be grateful to my MGM and all she did for me. As for my Mom I don’t blame her for not boding with me. It’s impossible and would be monstrous of me to want that. After all her first child had died a month before her second was born. But what I do blame my Mom for is for lying about the fact that we did bond and trying to use the baby books she made for me as proof when they just more seem like they are epitaphs for me for when I was suppose to have died, blaming my MGM for us not bonding, for the issues between me and my sibling, and finally for the continued attacks on the one person who ever cared and stood up for me and protected me. Those are what I blame my mother for. Sorry for the rambling manner of this post. I think I’ve pretty much covered the bonding issue between me and my Mom I think this Friday I’ll post about my bonding issue and relationship with my Dad and his parents (how I did not bond with my PGM(Paternal Grandmother) and how I did bond with my PGF (Paternal Grandfather).

                                                                                                                TL;DR My Mom and I did not bond cause I was born a month after my DS died. And my Mom has two excused for the bonding issue that contradict each other of first we did bond using creepy baby books as proofs and second to blame my MGM for interfering with our bonding. My Mom rather than accept the truth tried to gaslight me. Tear apart my relationship with my now dead MGM and poisoning my siblings to any relationship they could have had and had with our MGM. My mother tried half hardheartedly to bond with me in my latter years but always made it very clear my sisters and brother where her preferred children. I don’t blame my Mom for not bonding with me but more for her lies and her trying to destroy the only happy safe place I ever had during my childhood.

Update I recently talked with my S2 about our childhood. She actually confirmed some of what I said here. My Mom had all through our childhood drilled into the heads of my Siblings head that’s my MG loved me more then them. She would make them jealous of me by telling them my MG would buy stuff for me not them. She also said that my Mom and Dad would all but encourage my parents to beat me up or take my stuff to avoid fights. Now I’m not so foolish to fully believe what she said in this call. But it was interesting to see she backed up my beliefs without me saying what those beliefs where.

[2lovesihaveofcomfortandfandoms]

Skinamalink: Chapter 7

Despite being in lockdown, it’s still taken me 4 days to post this somehow. Ah well. It’s up and I’ve also made some edits back the ways as well - nothing major just a bit of fixing the flow.

archiveofourown.org/works/20955815/chapters/55940269

Or here, if you fancy:

Chapter 7: Monster Back In Town

Vlad smiled wide – crooked teeth on show. Shark’s teeth – or a wolf’s. Either way, something carnivorous and hungry. But perhaps what was more terrifying was how genuine Vlad’s smiles were. Dark eyes brightened and laughter lines gathered around them.

           ‘Are you ever going to let me off the hook for that?’ Vlad chuckled.

‘No.’ Edward’s response was solid and definite, leaving little room for argument. Nevertheless, Vlad tried,

‘Be fair, Eddie – I was doing what was best for you.’

           ‘Debatable.’

‘Is it? What do you think Sikes would have done to you if he knew you were my son?’

Edward didn’t need to think – he knew. And it would probably have started with his kneecaps and a crowbar. But he wasn’t about to give Vlad the satisfaction, so Edward only shrugged in response.

           ‘Fine. Sulk if you want to. You’re avoiding the question. How do you feel now that Sikes is awake?’

Where to begin? He had taken to checking over his shoulder more often in the past week. And double-checking that the door was locked. Scrutinising the crowd in the café for familiar but unwelcome faces. But that was natural, wasn’t it? A man who wants to kill you comes back into the picture, you're bound to get a little paranoid. Edward knew the kind of man that Bill Sikes was and what he was capable of. He had witnessed it – even participated in some of it. And don’t all monsters fear the monster who made them? Not that Vlad would understand that – he was a monster all by himself.

           ‘Eddie?’

‘Look, I’m not doing great, but I’m handling it. Dorian’s the one we should be worried about.’

           ‘That’s really why you called me, isn’t it?’ Edward nodded. ‘You think he might start using again?’ Another nod. ‘He’s been clean five years.’

‘Sikes being in a coma helped with that. And honestly, I’d find it hard to blame him if he lapsed. Sometimes... sometimes it was the only thing that could get him through it at all.’

           ‘You didn’t need it.’

‘A lot of the others did. Sikes made your life his or he made it hell – sometimes both. A lot of us were too young to see and do the shit we did – so we found ways of coping.’ And then he said in a whisper, and mostly to himself, ‘We were just kids.’

           ‘I know.’

Vlad cast his mind back to the first time he’s seen Edward. Fifteen. Hair shaggy and black. Green eyes unmistakable, even with the bruising around one of them. The split lip. The slight limp. His face had been so thin and tired that he looked several years older than he was. Now, Vlad didn’t often get sentimental, but Edward had slowly teased it out. And the thought of anyone harming the boy... incited a vicious streak and violent thoughts that surprised even Vlad. And if Sikes did come for his son... well, this time Sikes wouldn’t even make it back to the hospital.

           ‘I should go. I’ve got work to do.’

Vlad squeezed Edward’s shoulder,

‘Alright, Eddie. You know that if you need anything – anything – you come to me.’

           ‘Yeah.’ Edward reached for the car door.

‘Eddie... if things get worse with Dorian – you will let me know, won’t you?’

           ‘Course I will.’

Edward left the car without a backward glance. Vlad watched as he walked back inside the café, closing the door hard behind him. Vlad paused to adjust a cufflink and said with incredible nonchalance,

‘Renfield, I want another man put on the hospital.’

           ‘Yes, sir.’

‘And if I find that any of our dealers are distributing to Mr Gray, they will find themselves on the nasty end of a spike.’

           ‘Of course, sir.’

DS Newcomen was in a growling bastard of a mood. Once again, the news had been delivered that his application for the post of Detective Inspector had been denied. No, no – someone else was being transferred into the unit, they said. A more efficient use of resources, they said. A load of bollocks, Newcomen thought. He’d been a DI once, hadn’t he? He still would be if Sikes hadn’t gone and got his head bashed in a car crash. Eight years ago, he had been on the heels of something great – just a few steps away from getting Sikes behind bars for good. But no bad guy, no case. No case... ten years of his life up in smoke.

           But now... now he had a chance for redemption – a chance to finally make the case and get everything back. And it was getting snatched away again.

           When Newcomen heard that Sikes was awake, he damn near fell out of his seat. He’d rushed straight to the hospital and had stayed there for hours until the doctors had let him in the room. There had always been something about that car crash that didn’t feel right – something that didn’t quite fit – and he was going to get answers.

           Sikes had smiled at him when he stepped inside,

‘Well, well, Inspector... time wasn’t kind to you, was it?’

           ‘It’s Sergeant now. You cost me DI.’

‘Shame. Where’s my fruit?’

           ‘What?’

‘You visit someone in hospital, you’re supposed to bring ‘em fruit.’ Newcomen bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed down the urge to arrest.

           ‘I ain’t here for a visit. I have questions.’

‘I hope it ain’t on current events – I’m a bit spotty there.’

           ‘No. I wanna ask about the car crash.’

‘Car crash?’ Sikes shrugged his shoulders and grinned like a hyena – deliberately evasive. ‘What car crash?’

           ‘Yes. Car crash. That’s how you got here. You know that. Do you remember anything about it?’

‘Nah. Nothing.’

           ‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing. Dashboard must’ve hit the ol’ noggin too hard. Sorry.’ Again, Sikes smiled and shrugged – it wasn’t apologetic, it was smug. It said, you couldn’t touch me then and you can’t touch me now – if you think I’m going to answer your questions, you’re even stupider than I thought you were.

           ‘I’m done here, Sikes. But I’ll be back.’

‘Next time bring fruit. I like strawberries.’

Newcomen had left and had been in a bad mood ever since.

           He flipped through the meticulously arranged binder on his desk – one of three. All on the same subject – the life and crimes of William Sikes. Some might call it obsessive. It was obsessive. But when questioned, Newcomen would always say that to catch a criminal you need to be a little obsessed. A cup of bad coffee from the machine was placed on the desk in front of him.

           ‘Ugh, Skip, again with the binder?’

‘It’s called police work, constable.’

           ‘The new DI’ll be here any moment.’

‘Exactly. I’m gonna give ‘im this and tell ‘im we should take the case.’

           ‘What case, Skip?’

‘Sikes is awake. Which means, after all this time, he can be brought to justice.’

           ‘Skip, I don’t get it. There’s plenty bad guys out there – what is it about Sikes?’

‘How old were you eight years ago?’

           ‘Fourteen.’

‘You’d have been a good age for him.’

The constable shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Newcomen turned his attention back to the binder.

           ‘What... what exactly does that mean?’

‘Sikes liked drafting kids into his crew. He’d find kids in need. Give ‘em a place to stay. Get ‘em fed. Make ‘em feel safe. But now they owe him, so he asks ‘em to do a job – and they feel like they can’t say no. So, they do it. And now he’s got ‘em committing a crime, so he uses it to make ‘em do more. Before long, he’s groomed these kids into criminals and they’re a long way from who they used to be. So it’s not just that Sikes is a bad man who does bad things. He drags other people down with him.’

There was a pause, then the constable said softly,

‘How many kids?’

Newcomen flipped several sections of the binder and spun it around for the constable to see. The page bore a list of names. There were forty-three in total but to look at it, they seemed to go on and on. All forty-three were arranged neatly alphabetically with birthdates – and in the case of an unfortunate handful, death dates. The constable blinked, refusing the tears passage.

           ‘You understand me now?’ The constable nodded. ‘Then get back to work.’

The atmosphere in the café had not improved and everyone felt the tension. Lucy was staying quiet. Justine bore it, even though confusion poked and prodded her. Adam stayed in the kitchen away from it all.

           The winter sun had set two hours ago – still leaving them with another three to go. Lucy rapped her knuckles on the side of the kitchen window.

           ‘Adam?’

‘Yes, Luce?’

Adam ducked down so that his face was visible through the gap.

           ‘Close up the kitchen, love. I’m gonna shut us for the night.’

‘What about the boss?’

           ‘The boss’ll deal with it.’

Adam nodded and gave a small smile. It was one thing to be grateful for – Adam’s smile had never been affected by the scars across his face. It was a good smile – kind and genuine.

           ‘How are you doing with all this, love?’ Adam shrugged.

‘Not gonna lie, Luce, the thought of Sikes being awake... of him being out again... I don’t like it, Luce. Not at all. I mean, sure, the goons who did this,’ Adam gestured towards his face, ‘are long gone – but the man’s a monster... and he’s going to hurt people.’

Lucy reached out and gave Adam’s hand a squeeze. It too was patterned with raised scars.

           ‘It’s gonna be ok.’

Lucy left Justine to start cleaning. When she reached the door of Edward’s office, she knocked softly.

           ‘Ed?’

There was no response. Lucy pushed the door open. For a moment, Lucy thought that Edward must have left. He wasn’t at his desk and his jacket was gone from the back of his chair. A slight shuffling sound drew Lucy to the couch. The leather jacket was serving as a makeshift blanket and his shoes were kicked off so that he could curl his legs up.

           ‘Ed? Ed!’

Edward jolted awake – eyes bleary and hair tousled out of place.

           ‘Jesus, Luce – what the hell?’

‘You’re sleeping?’

           ‘I’m fucking tired. I was woken at five.’ Edward rubbed his eyes. ‘What d’you want?’

‘Wanna close the shop.’

           ‘Shit, is it ten already?’

‘Seven – but it’s quiet. And I don’t think anyone is feeling it tonight.’

Edward didn’t even have the resolve left to contradict her. He started to pull his boots back on.

           ‘Alright. Let’s close it down. Where’s Dorian?’

‘Gone.’ Edward jolted upward.

           ‘What!?’

‘Ed, it’s alright. He left with Basil an hour ago.’ Edward grumbled and sank back down on the couch. ‘Ed, is Dorian using again?’

           ‘No. Maybe... I don’t know.’

Lucy settled herself beside Edward and put an arm around his shoulders. They stayed there for a long moment, silent, in the reassuring company of the other.

           ‘We’re all gonna be here. Whatever happens, Ed. We’ll stick by you.’

‘You shouldn’t.’ Edward shrugged Lucy’s arm away. ‘Sikes is gonna come for me – and when he does, no one can be anywhere near me.’

           ‘He might not, Ed.’

‘I put him in a coma, Luce,’ said Edward, hands running through his hair. ‘He’s coming for me.’

[itsworn]

Group 19: American Motors’ Secret—Maybe Too Secret—High Performance Parts Program

Stock is a word with many meanings in the automotive hobby. There are the stock restoration guys for whom if it was not installed at the factory before first coffee, it does not count. Then there are the dealer cars: Yenko, Baldwin Motion, Dana, Tasca Ford, Grand Spaulding Dodge, and Dick Harrell Racing, to name a few. These guys produced the cars that the factory could not, modifying cars at the dealer before they were sold new to the public. Then you have outfits like Shelby American that ran what were effectively extensions of the factory, producing street cars and racers for enthusiasts, with full factory support.

How did little American Motors fit in? Surprisingly, quite well. In 1966 it introduced a modern V-8, newly designed with a solid bottom end and heads that breathed well. Starting at 290 cubes, it did not take long to punch it out to 401. AMC had sporty body styles to put it in, with the Javelin, AMX, Rambler Rebel, and later on the Hornet and Gremlin. AMC even had a core group of performance-minded people in positions of influence at the head office.

What AMC did not have were the engineering and production resources to develop, manufacture, and stockpile multiple variations of its V-8. What that meant was that the engine that went into your rip-roarin’ AMX was identical to the engine that went into the Ambassador owned by the old couple down the block.

So what’s a small, struggling independent to do? Taking a page from what was happening elsewhere, it had the dealers provide the support. They found the aftermarket parts that suited their needs, either on the street or the track, and made them dealer-installed options. Nothing new really; dealers of all brands had been installing lights, mirrors, tissue dispensers, and so on since cars were new. Certainly by the 1960s dealer-installed performance packages were well established. What was different was the level of factory participation.

Supporting these operations was the Group 19 program. Named for the section in the AMC parts listings that included high performance, this was AMC’s extensive performance parts list with available dealer installation. It was in effect from 1966 to 1971, though parts may have been available for some time after that.

This was not a program at one dealership or even a particular dealer network. This was part of the regular product line, and it was available at any dealership across the country. Most of the items were listed in the AMA specs for the cars.

AMC also had dealers like Grant Rambler in Arizona that were similar in concept to Dick Harrell or Baldwin Motion, producing the likes of 401 Gremlins for the truly sporting Rambler driver. Various other dealers and dealer groups were doing things like the Rebel Raider, Von Piranha, and various SS/AMX and other racing efforts that were operating in zones across the country.

The Parts

What, exactly, could you have installed on your Rambler for that first cruise? Here are the commonly installed items for street enthusiasts.

Intake Manifold: Edelbrock provided the R4B dual-plane high-rise single-four-barrel manifold with an rpm range of 2,500 to 5,500. The bolt pattern was for a Holley or Carter carb, and it had a notch in the plenum divider to allow use of the Holley three-barrel. AMC sold and installed manifolds to match 1969 and earlier engines or 1970 and up versions.

Heat-Blocking Intake Gasket: A simple metal pan gasket that did not have the heat crossover passages punched out.

Carburetors: This information is subject to debate, as some documentation has been lost, but there were several known choices, all Holley. The parts book listed the R4B intake manifold as a set with the Holley 3916 950-cfm three-barrel carb. It had one large oval vacuum secondary with one accelerator pump. It worked, but was not an ideal street carb.

Several other Holleys were given AMC service part numbers and installed under the policy of local procurement. These were the 600-cfm 1850, 780-cfm 3310, or 850-cfm double-pumper 4781.

Camshaft: Crane supplied the camshaft kit AMC sold through its dealerships. The kit consisted of the camshaft, anti-pump-up lifters, valve springs and dampers, locks, retainers, keepers, hardened pushrods, and seals. The camshaft was typical of its day, with modest lift and lots of duration and overlap. Specs were given as 302 degrees duration and 0.477-inch lift with 98 degrees of overlap. This gives a low vacuum and choppy idle, with a soft bottom end. However, it had excellent scavenging in the midrange and upper rpms, and generally made good power.

Ignition: Mallory supplied a complete set to replace the stock ignition. This consisted of a Mallory YC type distributor (aka Rev-Pol), a Voltmaster II coil, a ballast resistor, and a toggle switch. The idea was that you could use the switch to cut out the additional ballast resistor and have high voltage going to a hot coil. If you used the “strip” position of the cutout switch too much, you burned out your points!

Headers: Another item that was under the policy of local procurement. Doug’s Headers, Belanger Headers, and Jardine Header Company were the suggested suppliers, though Doug’s Headers seem to be the most commonly used. The 1966-1969 factory manifolds were very restrictive. After that, split flow manifolds known as “free flows” were used and drastically reduced restriction, though better scavenging and therefore torque was still to be had with steel-tube headers.

Differential Gears: Kits for 3.73, 3.91, 4.10, 4.44, and 5.00 were available. Should cover just about any reasonable street use!

Torque Links: These traction and handling aids were standard equipment on the two-seat AMX, SC/Rambler, and V-8 Gremlins. However, that left a lot of V-8 Javelins and Ramblers with nothing to plant the rear axle. The torque links consisted of steel bars that went from the spring-mounting hardware to the frame of the car, helping to locate the differential under the car. If properly installed, they reduced both body sway and rear axle windup.

Road Wheels: These were 15×8 American Racing Torq-Thrust Ds, with customer choice for tires.

Spoilers: An adjustable rear wing was developed for the Trans-Am program and used by the Kaplan teams in 1968 and 1969. Also available was a fiberglass front spoiler.

In addition to the above, several items were clearly intended to support AMC’s racing aspirations. While they were theoretically available to anyone, it is highly doubtful that anyone ordered them or that most dealerships would have been willing and able to install them. These exotic items included a Detroit Locker, an Edelbrock STR-11 crossram intake manifold, a capacitor-discharge ignition system, heavy-duty competition rocker arms, forged-steel crankshaft and rods for 290/343 V-8, four-wheel disc brakes, and an 8 1/2-quart oil pan. Unless you were running a Trans-Am race team or similar, you were unlikely to see them, but they were interesting pieces nonetheless.

Road Tests

Anyone who was well connected with AMC’s performance program could have a rip-snorting engine. A 390 or 401 could easily put a car into the 13s with the right dealer add-ons. They did not have the displacement to reach the potential of an LS6 or Drag Pack SCJ, but rivalling an L78, 440 Magnum, or Boss 351 was quite possible. Putting the Group 19 parts onto a 290, 343, or 360 would give you a screamer of a small-block, very competitive with Trans-Am cars such as the Challenger T/A, Z/28, and Boss 302.

Several road tests were performed with cars equipped with Group 19 parts. Super Stock and Drag Illustrated did a back-to-back road test between a stock SC/Rambler and one that had the dealer-installed goodies. The stock car hustled down the 1,320 in a respectable 14.31 at 98.86 mph. SSDI then installed the cam kit, R4B, Holley 780, headers, slicks, and a recurved distributor. The result was 12.69 at 109.99. To further make their point, SSDI did a road test the next year with a 1970 Rebel Machine. They cc’d the heads, recurved the ignition, and added the cam kit, R4B, Holley 850 double-pumper, headers, 2 1/2-inch exhaust, Detroit locker, 3.91 gears, and slicks. The result was a 12.81 pass at 107.35 mph. In both cases, the quarter-mile improved by about 1.5 seconds and over 10 mph.

There were some downsides. AMC dropped the ball when it came to promoting the program. Some dealerships were all over the program, while others were still mired in the “Grandma’s Rambler” mentality. The warranty was void if anyone but the dealer installed the Group 19 parts. Other issues were that many of the sanctioning bodies did not allow the use of the parts in “stock” class competition, and the program was only in place for a short time. So between inconsistent promotion, brief availability, and practical issues around homologation and warranties, relatively few cars were equipped with Group 19 parts.

Historically, it is very difficult to find hard information on the Group 19 program. Most of the records were destroyed when Chrysler bought AMC in 1987, so we are dependent on what bits and pieces of info are in the hands of enthusiasts.

There you have it. AMC had a solid street performance program. Unfortunately, no one noticed!

Clearly meant for public consumption and intended as an à la carte performance wish list, this brochure was placed in the glovebox of 1970 AMC models. The part numbers all correspond to the Group 19 parts listing, leaving no doubt as to what you were receiving.

These are original N.O.S. Doug Thorley headers still in their factory satin-black spray paint. Quality was mediocre, but they worked!

This ratty box contains a nearly complete camshaft kit, including lifters, double springs, adjustable studs, hardened pushrods, and so on. This transformed your docile “Towing Package” 390 into a nasty-sounding, high-winding, street-racing mill.

  1970 Javelin SST

AMC did not build many serious performance machines. One of the fortunate survivors of the street wars is this 1970 Javelin SST. Early on it picked up many of the key Group 19 options. It is a factory 390 Go Package car, which gave it the 390 engine, handling package, dual exhaust, power disc brakes, and that cool ram air hood. Other factory add-ons were a four-speed transmission, a 140-mph/8,000-rpm tach, heavy duty cooling, and a limited-slip differential. It is a well-optioned performance machine that has been with me for 30 years.

The Group 19 items took it up another notch. It has the camshaft kit, R4B intake manifold, Holley 780 carb, Mallory ignition, Thorley headers, torque links, and 4.10 gears.

The engine is stock down to the OE cast pistons, with no porting, polishing, or port matching internally. It starts easily and settles fairly quickly into a high idle, although it’s a bit cold-blooded. It is generally a bit soft in the bottom end, feeling uncomfortable below about 2,000 rpm, surging and hesitating. At 2,500 rpm it gets comfortable, and above 3,500 it starts to pull! As a short-stroke engine it revs quickly, all the way over 6,000, though it makes best times with shifts in the 5,500 range. Traction is good for the day, though it will easily overwhelm its F70s at any speed up to about 50 mph. The low weight of the AMC V-8 makes it feel lighter on its feet than many muscle cars.

The Javelin is consistently a low-14/high-13-second car, with a best of 13.77 at 102.04. That’s with an amateur driver, stock tires, and no fiddling with tire pressure, timing, or belts. With slicks and some trackside tweaking, you could easily be knocking on the 12s.

While not quite a sleeper, this relatively unassuming Javelin can surprise the top dogs of the Big Three. It resides in the far north of Canada, where it sees road time in the summer and takes part in autocross and other club events.

The engine is largely original and has been assembled using almost entirely N.O.S. and good used parts, with some repros forced by the realities of a regularly driven vehicle. While not detailed for show, it is largely correct and represents what a Group 19–equipped engine likely looked like shortly after delivery.

The Javelin is equipped with the optional tach and speedo cluster and the very rare Rally Pack instruments. The real surprise is the small switch under the dash. That cuts out the extra ballast resistor and gives a hotter spark from the Mallory Rev-Pol dealer-installed ignition.

1969 AMC SC/Rambler

By Jim McKee Photos: Jim McKee and Scott Lachenauer

Jim McKee is a rarity in the car world and doubly so in the AMC niche. He is someone who was there and can tell how it really was back in the day. Even rarer, he is the original owner of a hot street machine and still owns it.

In the late 1960s, Jim was a typical hot rodding kid, trying to get the best wheels on a high schooler’s budget. He must have been better at it than most, as he talked his mother into a 1968 AMX because “Rambler made nice, reliable cars.” His follow-up act was to convince his mom that a SC/Rambler made a good practical alternative to his Austin-Healey for college in the fall.

Acquiring the SC was a saga in itself that took about three months. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because while he was waiting for delivery, he befriended the owner’s son at Nichols Brothers Rambler in St. Petersburg, Florida, who happened to work in the parts department. Having found a kindred soul in Jim, he would call him in every time there was a new part added to the Group 19 listing. Finally, Jim had acquired nearly all of the relevant Group 19 bits for his car before he even took delivery.

As a result of this unofficial inside track, Jim’s SC ended up very well equipped. An R4B intake, headers, camshaft kit, Holley 780-cfm carburetor, competition rocker arms, and the Mallory distributor and matching coil all found their way onto the B-scheme rocket. Jim wanted to have the car at its best when it made its street debut, so as soon as he got home, he pulled the engine and went to work.

The car performed so well that it made a name for itself and, in some cases, generated some disbelief. Like the guy in a 1966 GTO with a 421 SD Tri-power that just had to see what kind of Rambler could keep up with him. A look underhood revealed no magic, just a well-tuned AMC 390. Jim would avoid complicating things by explaining the dealer nature of the improvements and instead let people think this was factory.

The best dragstrip time Jim recalls from back in the day is 12.54 seconds at around 110-112 mph. That performance level keeps company with things like COPO Camaros, 428 SCJ Mustangs, and Six Packs, assuming all cars equipped with slicks.

Jim McKee’s concours-restored SC/Rambler wears the more understated B-scheme paint job, which nearly caused him to overlook it on the dealer lot the day he picked it up in Atlanta.

An absolutely flawless engine bay showcases the original speed parts still with the car after 49 years with one owner.

As clean as the top, this shows the headers and lack of heavy undercoating.

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