#and like. I’ve heard myself sing unfortunately and I am in tune and stuff but

[whatacatch]

QUESTION for everyone who likes to sing… how can I get over my fear of being heard by literally anyone … like I’m talking family, friends, strangers, MYSELF… even as a child I had performance anxiety and I would refuse to do certain presentations at school which pissed off my teachers lol … but how can I get over this cause it’s so stupid like literally who cares … but me … EYE cares …

[edgythought]

Strangers in the Bar II

Part I  |  Part III

Alex Turner x OC (I guess??)

Description: Two lonely people observe each other in a bar. It leads to something nice. Word count: 2,982

Warning: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking.

A/N: Nobody wants the second part but I am posting it anyway. Maybe, you'll enjoy. If you do, let me know! 

The time flew by like a super-modern spaceship through the deep void of silent space and my stay in LA was coming to an end about just as fast. I still didn't know if I liked the city or not. It was totally different from what I'd seen before, but the aftertaste wasn't that pleasurable as I thought it would be.  Maybe I was a prisoner of my own superstitions and prejudices, but I will never know. Moreover, Californian weather is just not my cup of tea, I would prefer something a lot more northern than constant heat and melting asphalt. But I must admit the city has its own unique vibe you cannot casually pass by, it wipes you away with its simultaneous boldness and sneakiness. 

It was a challenge for me not to think about the dancing dude I met the first night. Let's be clear, I hadn't fallen in love, but there was definitely a spark between us, even if it was a result of drinking too much. Some nights I even wanted to google him, but my drunk ass never asked for his name. His face looked familiar, like I've seen him before, but I couldn't remember for shit when and where. So, I gave googling up and continued with doing my stuff, which was a lot more important than some random guy I popped into at some bar. I thought it was a drunk adventure and this gave some assurance it will not happen again and I can move on. But I'd be lying if I said what happened didn't bother me in a way I didn't want it to. 

I was always very sensitive to vibes and energy people are emitting. That feature brought a lot of pain, but also a lot of understanding, so I tried to develop it as much as I could. And what I saw and sensed that night made me think about it way too much. I saw a lonely person trying to enjoy a simple moment of happiness, but I also saw a sharp mind and a visible ache in his eyes. I totally understand it may sound like an absolute bullshit, but I got the impression we were vibing at the same frequency in some way and it would be stupid of me not to admit I would do it again without thinking. And this fact was bothering me a lot. It was something I couldn't accept, like, how can it possibly be real — to meet a guy and have such a connection with him without even speaking to one another? Bear with me, I told my friends a lot, while sharing this story with them. But could I bear with myself? The answer is not really.

My time in LA is coming to an end, I thought, it would be nice to say goodbye where I started. To finish the adventure properly and leave for good.

It wasn't much later when I saw some familiar spots I observed while smoking near the bar on my first day in LA. Those palm trees were actually fascinating in a pastel background of the twilight sky, warm and so close you may have had a chance to touch it. There was no clouds whatsoever, so I took a pic of tree silhouettes to remember this beautiful view when I'm back home. What if Los Angeles becomes my home? I thought to myself strolling down the road, searching for a sign indicating a spirit-scented place. Soon enough I saw it on the other side of the street and rushed there. It wasn't as crowded as I remember it to be, but I guess that's going to change in an hour or so. I came too early, but I desired to get wasted and nothing was standing in my way so I just followed the waitress into the bar and crawled on the stool with all the grace I managed to find in my body. The bartender asked me what I'd like to have and I ordered "Orgasm" without thinking. Dude tried to make a joke out of it but unfortunately I wasn't impressed since I heard it way too much throughout my whole cocktail-drinking life. It was only funny the first couple of times. Anyway, I came to drink and I got what I wanted in 4 minutes. I spent the time glaring around, but there was nothing unusual for my eye to catch, just a bar, millions of them around the world. The music was on point, though. I thought it was a jukebox, the one you pay to put a song on, but I was wrong. Turned out, it was one of the bartenders who was in charge of music for the night and they took turns to be a DJ. At least, that's what I heard from the bartender, when I made a remark on the music. I was quite impressed, since it's mostly jukeboxes I saw in this kind of places. I found it pretty authentic and also very encouraging for the personnel to try their chances with music. What is more LA than that? 

My cocktail was tasty enough for me to distract myself with it for a while. My head was almost empty and I felt I achieved what I was striving for, so I needed to think what to do next. I was alone and a little bored. Maybe I can try to talk to someone? Just for the sake of having a conversation… - I thought - People are probably thinking I am a weirdo, I came alone and I drink alone. Well, this is who I am now and bitches shall accept that. Anyway, the drink was so delicious I finished it without realizing it. I ordered another one and decided it would be nice to smoke. 

When I got out I saw the last couple of minutes of the hot Californian twilight and was left to enjoy the early night. Cicadas were singing their oddly rhythmic song and I was inhaling smoke like it was my last cigarette on earth. It was nice to feel the relaxation spread from my chest to my hands and then knees. It felt nice having nothing to worry about for a night  and just do whatever your heart tells you to, even if it's totally stupid. The smoke twirled in the air above my head in irregular spirals. I watched it slowly dissolve in thick warm air, traffic noise making the whole experience a little bit ambient. I took out another cigarette and lit it from the previous one, as I had lost my lighter a few days ago and hadn't bought another one yet. I know, I know. My mind was in a weird state, I felt very calm and very nervous at the same time and I couldn't say what exactly caused it. I should probably stop drinking and smoking so much. But not today. 

My cigarette was quickly coming to an end as I watched people gathering near the bar entrance for a small chat or a smoke. I went back inside to continue my contemplation with a cocktail in my hand, but I was also determined to get to know someone. Maybe, that cute bartender who served the "dancing juice" will be back? I could talk to him, at least I did last time and it wouldn't be that awkward. But I haven't seen him today yet and I wasn't sure I will, therefore I decided to concentrate on people, cruising back and forth between table area and the bar itself. Everyone seemed very comfortable and friendly, but not a one familiar face in the whole room. Suddenly, I heard a phrase that made me jump on my stool and rush to the dance floor, occupied by two young men in weird shorts. 

Get on your dancing shoes!

I cannot explain why the indie tunes from 2000s made me so eager to dance, but they did and I was fine with it. I wiggled my ass to the beat, shook my head and pretended to sing the song to the boys in weird shorts. They somehow agreed to take part in my performance and the three of us had a very nice time dancing and jumping around for the next couple of songs. Soon I was very hot and went back to my place at the bar to take a sip of my drink and order a refill and some water. I went to the bathroom right after I saw the bartender nod at me, letting me know he heard what I told him, as the music was getting louder.

I was surprised to see there was no queue to the bathroom, so I used my chance not to hurry and take my time to fix my makeup and hair. I was even more surprised to see the bar crowded when I finished and I was absolutely flabbergasted to find my place at the bar occupied by some dick! Can you tell I went from 0 to 100 in a couple of seconds? My mood wasn't so great before but now it was pretty much spoiled. I saw the guy talk to the bartender and put my drink aside and my ass went off. Somehow in such situations I have a resting bitch face, which may serve an impression of me being unbothered, but it's not exactly how I felt then. I was furious because there was no other place to sit at the bar and it was just rude of the guy to sit on my stool, cause there was my drink, signifying it was occupied.

I came up to the dude and touched his shoulder to catch his attention. He turned around with half a smirk quickly changing into a look of surprise. I could feel my eyes grow in size when I saw who it was. "Is it fucking real?" - I asked myself, trying to be less shook. What an amazing coincidence, my stool at the bar was occupied by the dancing dude! - Who would have thought, am I right? — he said, fully turning to face me. — Not me, for sure. Get off my stool. — I shoo'd him from the stool but he didn't move a muscle. — Nope. You weren't sitting here when I came in, so it's mine now. — I raised my eyebrow in disbelief. — Don't be a little dick, you've seen my glass standing right here.  — I will buy you another one if you get off my dick. And once we are talking about that…. — he chuckled a bit. — You can sit in my lap if you fancy. My eyes widened, I was astonished by his bold move. — Are you flirting with me? — Who knows. So, mardy bum? Are you climbing in my lap or …? — he asked, looking attentively at my face with a wide smirk, pleased with himself. 

I threw my hands in the air silently and turned my back on him. I didn't fancy sitting in a random dude's lap, even if the dude was kinda hot and not actually random. Oh God, FUCK! He looked a bit different this time; his beard was trimmed and his hair was gelled back, black shirt and pants so tight I could probably see the outline of his underwear if he wore any. What a dweeb. I guess I'd recognized him instantly if I saw those pants. 

Why is this so embarrassing? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted to sass this bitch out, but I couldn't come up with anything merely appropriate for the situation, so I decided to ignore his questions and turned to take my glass. At this exact moment a very familiar and a really slow song came on.

I somehow lost my breath and fell into a spiral of memories I had associated with the song playing for a second. I was watching people dividing into pairs on the dance floor and it broke my heart a little. I remembered my ex-sweetheart holding me tight to him while this exact song played quietly in our apartment, right after the final fight we had. I remembered the emptiness I felt then and my eyes became too watery. I am not going to cry at the bar today, I told myself. No one was going to ask me to dance today anyway, I thought, and it stroke me pretty hard. I turned to go out of the bar to have a cigarette when the dancing dude touched my hand. I looked at him, struck by the sensation. He was offering his hand to me.

"Shall we dance a little?" 

I had no time to think properly and the whole situation felt a bit like deja vu. He was waiting for me to take his hand, eyes on me, wandering from hair to eyes, to boobs and back. I accepted his almost silent invitation and followed him to the middle of the dance floor.

When I'm around slow dancing in the dark Don't follow me, you'll end up in my arms

We were surrounded by different couples and that's one of the reasons I loved LA. It was just beautiful to see people simply dancing together. No one really cared what people might have thought of them, this is how it should be. He held my hands in his and as we're almost the same height I almost touched his long nose with mine. We remained silent while we were swirling in a very little space we had among all the people. His palms were soft and warm and I enjoyed his touch, even though I didn't want to admit it. 

Soon enough we got even closer and danced way slower. My lips were almost on his jaw as we were almost hugging each other to a sad song. Him being so close yet so far made me puzzled in some way. I didn't want this to happen and yet here I am, staring at dude's earlobes and gelled strands of wavy hair on the neck. Pretty view, should I say. He smelled exactly the same as I remembered and I found the smell heavenly complex. This sparked an idea to spend as much time in his arms as possible, but I shooed the thought away. It would be inappropriate.

I turned my head a bit to see his face clearly. His eyes were closed, but I could sense something going on in his head. He moved easily and graciously, even with me by his side and I was pleasantly surprised to realize he led me all the time we were dancing. I smiled a little to myself. It felt good to be in his arms and I decided it won't hurt to put my head on his shoulder, so I did. I took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne and smiled again. He tilted his head a bit, so it would touch mine. I thought about how we looked like on the dance floor seen by others. We probably look like two sad people dancing to a slow song, I sassed myself and shook my head a bit. Dude asked me if I was okay and I responded "sure". That was it, the whole conversation during the dance.

Can't you see? I don't wanna slow dance  In the dark

As the song was reaching its climax, we almost stopped moving at all. My hand that was placed on his shoulder slid down to his waist. He did the same with his hand, still holding mine. I liked him not pushing anything on me and appreciated the effort to be nice. It felt right to be this close to him somehow. I saw him lip-synching a little to the song and felt his warm breath on my cheek. I kept smiling as I watched his private performance. With the final phrase we stopped completely and just stood in each other's embrace for a couple of seconds longer than necessary. I didn't want to let him go. He seemed to feel the same. I blushed a bit, because it was getting awkward. Eventually, we split and I followed him to the bar.

He sat on a stool next to mine which appeared to be empty and gestured a bartender to come over. I sipped my cocktail, which I completely forgot about, to be honest. I was watching the dance floor and the dude turned to me and asked "Whatcha gonna drink, mardy bum?"

I did not expected that and took some time to proceed with the question. I looked at him, confused. "Nothing for now. Excuse me" i said and rushed to the bathroom. I didn't want to use it, however, I felt an urgent need to get away from his deep dark eyes inspecting my face. I turned on cold water and splashed some on my neck and chest to calm myself down. I guess I shouldn't have left like this, I thought, maybe I need to go back and try to have a normal conversation? I wanted to talk to someone less than half an hour ago. Oh no, there would be no conversation, darling, you will just stare at his face for an uncomfortably long time until he finds you creepy and leaves, I told myself. Well, this sucks but I have to go back anyway. I'd fancy a smoke, after all it was an experience and I definitely needed some nicotine in my system. I went out of the bathroom to finish my cocktail at the bar and found the dude's stool empty. It made me a bit sad, but I didn't say goodbye either, so it's only fair. I knocked my drink down and headed to the exit.

[the-gedonelune-times]

Time Will Tell

This is one of those fics where I had an idea, sat down and just wrote out an entire fic. This one is about Lily and how her life in Gedonelune will be going for a little while. I really enjoyed writing this and hope you all enjoy it as well! 💙

After the previous events that took place in the Northern forest, Liz ended up encountering Lily again and this time, she was leading her back to the village. After talking it over with Willem, they had made arrangements for Lily to stay with him for a while for fear of her being noticed by the Ministry.

“Lily, this is Willem, you’ll be staying with him for a little while.”

“Hello, Willem, it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Lily smiled, giving a tiny bow before glancing at Liz. “May I ask why I’ll be staying here? The winged rabbit must be so lonely, I’m worried.”

“Well, there’s a lot we don’t know about you and we need to make sure the Ministry doesn’t find you. As for the Winged Rabbit, don’t worry, the Northern Forest is filled with them, I can assure you he won’t be lonely.”

Lily nodded happily. “That’s good to hear. I have one more question if that’s alright?”

“Of course.”

“What is the Ministry? What is it that they do?”

“To put it simply, the Ministry pretty much helps keep Gedonelune running in a sense. They deal with political matters and help try to keep the peace between the other kingdoms.”

“I see, then why do you wish not to let me be found?”

“Given some recent circumstances, I think it would be best for you to keep a low profile for a little bit.”

“In other words, your Ministry will think I am...suspicious?”

“Yes and unfortunately you’ve already been drawing a bit of attention, even if it wasn’t intentional.”

“I see..” Lily looked down apologetically. “My apologies for any issues I may have caused.”

“You have no reason to be apologizing, Lily. Things like this happen sometimes, this is one of those times nor was it your doing.”

“Ah, alright!” Lily beamed. “Oh, Liz, will you not be staying with us?”

“I’m afraid not. I still have my duties as prefect, so I won’t be around for most of the day, but I’ll try to be back to check up on you. I hope the two of you can get along with each other.”

Lily flashed a happy smile at Willem. “Yes, me too! He hasn’t said a word this whole time, but I can tell he has a very kind heart; warm like the sun.”

“I’m flattered by such kind words.” Willem responded warmly.

“I’ll leave you two to it then. Take care!” 

Lily and Willem both waved Liz off as she took her leave before they headed inside of Willem’s home. Almost immediately, Lily’s wings began flapping, allowing her to float around and take a good look at the home. Every little thing amazed her and she couldn’t stop pointing and smiling at every little object. Her favorite being a music box that she found on the mantle of the fireplace. Willem explained to her that it was a gift from the humans, many centuries ago, he said it belonged to a good friend of his.

“So, this person named Felix carried it with him all the time?”

“Yes, sometimes when he felt restless, he would play this music box and fall asleep.”

“That’s so cute.” Lily squeaked as she held the small box in her hands. “May I?”

“By all means, go right ahead. It’s been so long since I’ve heard the box play.”

“Does it not work right?”

“No, nothing like that. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to open the box.”

Lily’s fingers gently brushed on the top of the box before undoing the magnetic lock on the front, revealing a beautiful flower made out of crystal. There was a silver wind-up key on the back of the box which she was instructed twist. 

It was slow, but a beautiful sound began to play as the box whirred to life; the crystal flower slowly spinning with the music. Completely mesmerized by the sight of it, her eyes never left the flower’s movements, and ever so softly, she began to hum along with the tune, as if she had heard the song a hundred times.

Willem watched Lily with interest and slight sadness. The look in her eyes reminded him of the same soft look that Felix had all those years ago when he too, would listen to that music box. He dared not say anything and instead, he quietly left the living room and went to the kitchen, allowing Lily some time to herself. 

It didn’t last long though, a couple of minutes later while he was preparing food to take over to Hugo, he heard his name being called. Sitting on the sofa was Lily, who was now teary-eyed as she held the music box in her hands.

“I-I didn’t mean to…” Lily sniffled as her hands began to shake

“Lily, what happened?”

“I don’t know, the music slowed down and...and the pretty flower stopped moving, did I break it? I-I didn’t mean hic to.”

“Dry your tears, you didn’t break it.” Willem gave a warm smile as he walked over to her, kneeling down and taking the box from her shaky hands. “You have to continue winding up the box if you want to hear the music.” Willem explained while he began to twist the wind-up key; the box whirring to life as it began to play the music again.

“S-so I didn’t break it?” Lily asked while wiping her eyes, trying to dry up what remaining tears stained her face.

“No, see, it’s perfectly fine now.”

Lily looked down at the music box and smiled happily as she sniffled a few final times. This time, when the music ended, Lily gently closed the box and placed it right where she had originally found it. She soon became more intrigued with the sounds going on in the kitchen where Willem had went back to, finishing up his cooking, glancing over at Lily who looked at everything with interest. The oven was especially interesting to her when she found a switch, which she found out lit the inside up, after clicking it.

“Incredible!” Lily exclaimed happily as she flipped the light switch on and then off a couple of more times, drawing a chuckle from Willem.

“You’ve never seen anything like this before, have you?”

“Nope. What’s it for?”

“It’s used to cook food.” Willem explained.

“Cook food? Oh! You mean the stuff humans have to eat, right?”

“That is correct” Willem smiled.

“Wait, why are you making human food?”

“I make it for the other humans who come visit and reside here. It’s also a nice treat for when I want to indulge a little bit.”

“There are other humans in this village other than Liz?”

“Yes, there’s actually one living right next door to me who you’ll be able to meet very shortly. They should be here soon for dinner.”

Lily’s wings began to flap excitedly. “Oh! I can’t wait to meet another human!”

“You really like humans, don’t you Lily?”

“Yes, I think…” Lily hummed. “I think I had human friends once. They taught me how to dance and sing songs they knew. Humans are fragile, they get hurt easily but they live life despite so many struggled. I admire and love them for being so strong.” Lilly smiled. “I want to show all humans the same love they gave to me once.”

“I think that’s a wonderful thing.”

“Willem, you’re cooking for humans and living among them, does that mean you love humans as well?”

“Yes, though it took a while for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m afraid that story will have to wait another day. Would you mind helping me set the table?”

“I would love too.” 

Lily listened intently as Willem explained where everything was and where they had to go. Within mere minutes, the table was set and ready for serving dinner, which Willem had just now taken out of the oven. Around that time, there was a rasp on the door.

“Come in!” Willem called out as the door began to quietly open, revealing a small white cat and a man with silver hair clad in a somewhat casual style outfit. The two of them got a few steps into the house when they suddenly froze, both of them directing their attention to Lily who wore a big smile on her face as she looked them both up and down.

“Willem, you didn’t tell us you already had company.” Mischa purred before nimbly hopping on top of the table.

“If we’re interrupting something, we can go.” Hugo muttered.

“No, both of you must be hungry, so please, sit down and I’ll explain what’s going on.”

Hugo and Mischa exchanged looks and Hugo sighed, giving up as he slid a chair out, taking a seat. Willem began serving them both plates and even got a small helping of the food on a plate for himself and took a seat.

“I believe I owe you both an explanation.”

“Yes, it would be nice.” 

“This is Lily and she’s going to be staying with me for a little while.” Willem explained.

“Is she…” Hugo looked at her and then at Willem.

“Yes, she’s not human. She’s a species of dragon that has long been extinct.”

“I see. Is she trying to...you know?”

“No.” Willem answered firmly. 

“Well, at the very least, that offers some relief.”

“So, Lily, what brings you to Gedonelune?” Mischa asked curiously.

“I’m not sure. I kind of woke up here one day.”

“Woke up?”

Lily nodded. “Yes, I don’t remember much of anything either.”

“How odd. Willem?” Mischa directed her attention to the one beside her. “Do you mind if we have a little chat?”

“I suppose we can, Lily, do you mind waiting for us in the living room?”

“Of course!” Lily’s tail happily swished behind her as she left the table, leaving the other three to talk among themselves.

“Willem, are you sure she’s not-”

“I’m positive. She’s shown no signs of hostility, she can’t even remember the war.”

“War? So she was alive back then?”

“Yes but…”

“But?” Hugo spoke up.

“Well, Liz and I came to the conclusion that Lily actually died during the war. There have been no records of any Zirnitra being alive. As far as records go, the last of their kind died out around the time the war ended.”

“But that leaves the question of how she’s alive and here in Gedonelune.”

“Well, I was thinking about that as well.”

“And?”

“A flower represents death for my kind and other dragon species. When we die, we turn to flowers, but maybe it’s possible that the opposite can happen.”

“Which means that Lily was reborn from a flower?”

“Quite possibly. Although, I don’t have enough evidence to be sure of it. What I am sure of, however, is that Lily poses no threat or harm to anyone. She’s just lost and wants nothing bad to happen to the human race.”

“Yes, well, wasn’t that brought up once about another certain Dragonkin?”

“Yes...but his hatred was caused because he knew what the humans had done.”

“Do you think the same could happen to Lily if she fully regains her memory one day?” Mischa asked.

“I don’t know, Mischa. I sincerely don’t know. I would like to hope that those memories would not change her pure heart.”

“But you never know.” 

“Yes, that is..correct. Which is why I’m taking full responsibility for whatever may happen.”

“Willem?”

“Sorry. I know this a lot to ask, but I have a favor.”

“Oh?”

“I know it shouldn’t happen, but I need to make sure the Ministry doesn’t find out about her.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Hugo and I don’t talk to any Ministry member. Well, except for when that Klaus fellow is ever in town. Our lips will be sealed, Willem, you have our word.”

“Thank you.”

Dinner went on smoothly and finished with Willem making a plate for Hugo to take home for later. After waving them off and cleaning everything up, he went to go check up on Lily, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, Her wings wrapped around her like a blanket and in her hands, clutched to her heart was the music box. Willem smiled as he grabbed a nearby plush throw blanket, which he used to cover her up.

“Sweet dreams, Lily.” 

Lily, though not awake, stirred softly and smiled as she nestled deeper into the blanket. With that, Willem left to his own room, calling it a night as he shut off the lights, except for a dim-lit floor lamp in the corner of the room. 

Though they didn’t know it, things were going to get quite crazy in Gedonelune, and Lily was soon going to find herself right smack in the midst of it all. What sort of crazy adventures will she find herself in? Only time will tell.

[novemberseas-novemberskies]

Week 2: Character Challenge 4

              The day after the Parade I am tired deep in my bones, and I know that training is not in the cards today. I stay in bed far longer than I’ve allowed myself in days, luxuriating in the ability to drift in and out of sleep. Finally, when I feel that I’ve sufficiently indulged myself, I rise. My skinned and bruised knees are stiff, and my lips are dry and cracked. Stretching, I feel my joints creak, and for the first time in all my seventeen years, I know what it might feel like to age. I may not be riding today, but I still have duties to attend to, stiffness or no. Because, after my brash and, upon reflection, stupid decision to spend all my remaining money on purchasing my water horse, I’ve had to find a way to sustain this mad venture. Mother’s meager earnings from doing the washing and mending for families about town is only enough to sustain the four of us, and certainly not enough to feed a ravenous capall uisce. So I hike up my skirts (metaphorically), and get to work.

                Unfortunately but certainly not surprisingly, there is little need on Thisby for the skills one learns at Saint Marciana’s School for Young Ladies. When I first set out to fund my race, it took me a few days wandering the island between training sessions to find something suitable. Gratton’s offered me a position behind the counter, and it would’ve been a good fit with their proposal to pay me in half-decent cuts of meat, but I couldn’t stomach the sight nor smell of the massive sides of raw beef and pork that hung like grotesque ornaments in the back of the shop. Palsson’s had no need for a new shop girl, and I had no talent for baking. Shop after shop I entered and left without success. Parched and tired, I made my way to the Black Eyed Girl, an inn popular with local and tourists alike. It was sitting there at the bar with a glass of hot cider that the barmaid had sympathetically tipped a bit of whiskey into and listening to an old radio warbling out tunes from the mainland that I got my idea. The barmaid was more than pleased to have another young woman to share the male-dominated space with, and the owner was more than pleased to have another young woman to keep drawing them in.

                As I enter and unwind my scarf, Bridget is already pouring my cider. We exchange a friendly grin and Bridget claps me on the shoulder in admiration, having already heard tell of my escapades from the night before, and I take my place at the piano. A sip of whiskey-laced cider and a deep breath, and I start to play. Conversations quiet, and heads turn to where I sit as my fingers dance across the keys, muscle memory making the task as easy as breathing. Though I’d prefer to play through some complex Chopin or a gentle Brahms, traditional songs from the Mainland hold much broader appeal and are significantly easier to sing along to. So, each day I play through my repertoire, one built through nights stealing out to pubs near school with my friends and allowing the field hands to buy us gin and call us pretty. I play to my audience, rousing quiet groups of work-tired fishermen to their feet with a bright and lively round of “Spanish Lady”, and coaxing crowds of rowdy drunks to tears with a sweetly voiced rendition of “Oh Danny Boy”, accompanied only by the beating of my own heart. I’m allowed to keep whatever coin makes its way into the jar atop the piano, and I pull in a good bit, more than usual as I’m able to devote the whole day to it. Drunk mainlanders are loose with their purse strings, and I feel only a tinge of guilt to be taking their money. But I’ve lived in their world, and they scarcely miss the fiver they clumsily stuff into my jar.

                At the end of the night, Bridget and I share another drink and a Sunday roast, the second part of my payment for providing the entertainment for the night. In these moments, perched on a barstool in the empty inn, talking and laughing far later into the night than I really should, that I feel most content. Because here, I am not part of a fallen family. I am not the talk of the island. I am not even a rider. I am simply Lettie, the girl with the pretty voice, the piano player, Bridget’s friend. Perhaps more money could be made elsewhere, and if things turn out poorly in the Races I’ll surely have to go searching for something more lucrative. But for now, thoughts of the future are far and away. I am relaxed and happy and warm, my secondhand pocketbook is full, and there’s a slight buzz in my blood from the alcohol. And I can believe, if only momentarily, that everything will be all right.

[moonblooch]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning : No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series)

Characters: Fjord (Critical Role), Jester Lavorre, Caleb Widogast, Nott (Critical Role), Mollymauk Tealeaf, Yasha (Critical Role), Beauregard (Critical Role)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, based loosely around the time of the sequel trilogy, dubious usage of star wars canon slang, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Language: English

Fjord, Jester and Beau crash land on the planet of Trostenwald and get a whole crew for the price of one mechanic. 

“So Fjord, what exactly are we looking for?” Jester asked.

They were stood in the doorway of a small cantina on Trostenwald, surveying the scattered patrons. The place was fairly empty, though the breakfast rush would likely end that soon; if they could get in and out before that happened.

“Well Jester, I was thinking we need someone to repair our ship.”

She nodded, eyes cast down. “I’m really, really sorry about the ship Fjord.”             

The image of the ground rushing up to meet them flashed through Fjord’s mind.

“It’s fine Jess, I’ve seen worse landings than that. Besides, I’m sure Beau’ll have everything upright by the time we’re back.”

They walked to the counter, where a harried looking human was wiping down every surface with all of the enthusiasm of someone about to finish her shift. She paused, looking up as they approached.

“How can I help you dears? What can I get you?”

“Just some rations for now I’m afraid.” Fjord replied, swinging himself onto a stool. “And some information about the area if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course, I’ll sort your food first; you look like you’ve had a hell of a jump to get here.”

Once more Fjord recalled his scream as they shot through the atmosphere.

“You could certainly say that. Speaking of,” he leaded forward, “you wouldn’t happen to know any decent mechanics would you?”

“Rough landing huh? We get plenty of those round here.” She said sliding a ration cube to each of them. “That’ll be five credits love.”

Fjord handed held out a credit chip and she scanned it with a handheld which was probably older than she was.

“As for your mechanic, well, you didn’t hear it from me,” she whispered, leaning in, “but that man in the corner might be your best shot. He’s an offworlder, not guild affiliated or anything; that’s why I’m not telling you this, but I’ve heard that he’s good and doesn’t ask questions. People have been singing his praises since he got here.”

Fjord followed her minute gesture to the corner-booth, where a scruffy looking man was hunched over a mug of caf. He had a lolth-cat sat on the bench next to him which seemed to be doing its best to stick its head into his mug, but had yet so succeed. He appeared to be conversing with someone, out of view from their angle.

“Are you sure?” Jester asked, a little louder than would have been ideal. “He looks like a slythmonger or something.”

“Sure as those tails on your head miss; he fixed the caf-dispenser just this morning. It used to make this awful screeching noise. I don’t know what you’ve got that needs fixing but I’m pretty sure I heard him talking to an Azumel about an old Hunter last night and he seemed to know his stuff.”

Fjord found himself nodding.

“Do you know what his rate is?”

She gave a light shrug.

“He just asked for two decent breakfasts when he fixed the caf machine for me, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“Maybe we could take some food, you know, to get him to talk to us?” Jester suggested. Turning back to the human she asked, “Hey, do you have any feen?”

“I’m afraid not miss, but I’ve got a sack of mallow powder out back that I’ve been trying to shift for ages if you’re after something sweet. It’s yours for ten credits.”

“Done!” Jester replied, brandishing her credit chip. Her freshly forged credit chip, if Fjord recognised it. He held his breath as the scanner ran over it, but seemed to detect nothing amiss.

“Alright then miss, I’ll just go get that for you. If anyone comes in could you let them know I won’t be long?”

At Jester’s nod she slipped through a door behind the bar. Fjord placed a light hand on Jester’s shoulder.

“I’m going to go talk to this guy, alright? Come over when you’ve got the mallow powder.”

Jester nodded again, sending him off with a wave. As Fjord approached, the man at the table seemed to tense up, curling in on himself with each step that Fjord took towards him.

“Excuse me,” Fjord began when he finally drew level with the booth, “d’you mind if I join you for a bit?”

“There are other tables.” Came a voice from the hunched figure sitting across from the man and his lolth-cat. They were small, smaller than most children even, although their voice fairly clearly demonstrated that this was not the case, and had a hood pulled over their face.

“Einfach da, Nott.” The man said, before turning to Fjord. “What is it you were wanting to talk about?”

“Ah, I apologise if I’m interrupting anything. I’m looking for a mechanic and I heard you might be able to help with that.”

“Maybe so, what is it that you need fixing?”

“Well, uh, my crew and I just landed and on our way back to realspace we encountered a few technical issues. I was hoping you’d maybe be able to take a look at them.”

“I would certainly be able to look at it, aber I imagine you would want for me to fix it if there is something wrong.” The man stroked his chin. “I would not be unwilling to do this, but you will understand if I am widerwillig to do this for a person who has not yet introduced themselves.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Fjord held a hand out, “my name’s –”

“Fjord!” Jester called, staggering over to the booth almost entirely hidden behind the colossal sack of mallow powder she was holding. “Look at how much I got us! Do you think we can fit this in the kitchen?”

She set the sack down on the table with an audible thump.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, peering around the sack, “I really like your cat! Can I pet him? What’s he called? Oh, and what’s your name?”

A smile settled across the man’s features.

“You shouldn’t have asked him that.” The hunched figure on the other side of the table groused. “He barely talks about anything except that cat as it is.”

“Hush, you.” The man replied, scratching the lolth-cat behind its ears and turning to face Jester. “His name is Frumpkin, and you can pet him as long as he allows it. My name is Caleb Widogast.”

He offered a hand to Jester, and that was when Fjord noticed that his arms were wrapped almost entirely in medical tape. A few of the pieces were trailing, having come unstuck, and it seemed to be stained in several places, though it was impossible to tell if these were from injuries or the sort of fluids which occurred in machinery.

“I’m Jester.” Jester replied, taking his hand with both of hers. “This is Fjord. Can you please help us with our ship?”

He seemed to consider for a moment.

“I will ansehen it but if you would like for me to fix it then I shall need something in return.”

“What was that word?” Jester asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard it before, ans-han?”

“Oh.”

Caleb reached into one of the many pockets on his jacket, this one close to the lapel, and pulled out a tiny four-sided pyramid. Each side sported several flickering lights, and a seam along one edge was cracked open just widely enough to reveal the circuits inside. Caleb blew into this, then examined it for a moment. Seeming satisfied he returned it to its correct pocket.

“Malfunctioning translator, sorry.” He said, attention once more on Jester. “It is an old one,  I had to do a lot of the fine-tuning myself, so it can sort of, er, glitch I think is the best word, if I speak too fast or put stress on a word. I do speak Basic, but the dialect I learned to speak is unfortunately rather specific, a translator saves a lot of explaining you know?”

“Oh, I understand.” Jester replied, tapping her headband. “The translator in here makes my voice a little strange too sometimes. And there are some words it just doesn’t get, you know?”

“Absolutely, idioms are a gottsverdamnt nightmare with this thing. As is cursing. What I was trying to say was that I would take a look at your ship and that we could take it from there, yes?”

“Well sure.” Fjord replied. “What’s your price?”

“That would depend on what needs fixing, but my friend and I,” Caleb gestured between himself and Nott, “need safe transport off this planet. It must be discreet. Can you provide that?”

“We can certainly try, where are you reckoning on going?”

“Anywhere in the outer rim.” Nott answered. “Further out than here at least, if not all the way out.”

“We can talk about the specifics when we are in a more private setting.” Caleb added. “But first, I would like to see this ship of yours.”

He drained the last of his caf and stood, still remarkably hunched over (though this was presumably not helped by the fact that the lolth-cat draped itself across his shoulders). Nott scrambled her way onto the table in order to help him strap some sort of pack to his back, allowing Fjord to get a closer look at her.

As widely travelled as he liked to assume that he was, Fjord had to admit that he had never seen anyone who looked quite like she did. Her hooded robe seemed to be covering her almost entirely, but what slivers of skin were visible were green (lighter than his own, but still very much green). Each hand appeared to have four fingers, unless she was wearing unusual gloves, and the lower half of her face was covered by a mask. If Fjord was pushed to guess, he would have said that it was a breath mask, but it was not visibly attached to any kind of tank. Over the top of this mask peered two amber eyes, constantly darting about the room as if she was expecting something to jump out at any second.

Once Nott had secured the final clasp, Caleb gathered up a second bag and slid out of the booth, offering Nott a hand to guide her down from the table.

“Well,” he said, looking to Fjord, “lead on.”

Jester kept up a constant stream of chatter on their way back to the ship, holding the sack of mallow powder in one arm and excitedly gesturing with the other. She stopped when Nott held up a hand.

“We’re being followed.” She hissed, turning slowly to face the direction they had just come from. Fjord followed her gaze, seeing two figures behind them and moving closer with purpose. He felt his hand twitch, almost involuntarily, but managed to keep it still. There was no need for that sort of scene yet.

Of the two figures approaching them, only one could have passed for human. Perhaps they were human, but something about their proportions, the slightly lumbering way that they were moving, suggested otherwise. The other was most likely chiss, though a lot closer to purple than average. They had been talking to their taller companion, but stopped abruptly when they noticed that Fjord was looking at them.

“Well hello there.” They called, slight accent betraying the use of a translator, as they strolled towards their group. “Not to be rude, but I believe that we overheard that you might be heading off planet soon. Got room for two more?”

Fjord fought the urge to close his hand again.

“We can pay.” The larger of the two said, not caring to elaborate.

“And we’re handy with most any weapon you can think up, if you need that sort of thing.” The chiss said, a smirk catching the corners of their mouth. “The name’s Mollymauk by the way, probably should have led with that. Mollymauk Tealeaf, Molly to my friends, and the delightful lady beside me is Yasha.”

Yasha gave them a nod.

“I’m Jester, this is Fjord,” Jester answered before Fjord had a chance to come up with a halfway decent alias, “and this is Caleb and Nott.”

“Why do you need off-world so badly?” Nott asked. “We can’t take someone who’s got troopers after them.”

“I think I’ll decide who I allow on my ship Nott.” Fjord interjected. “But is there anything we oughta know about before we consider your request?”

“We came here with the circus a few days ago, and we need off-world because one of the other performers seemed to think that the locals wouldn’t notice if he ate someone.” Yasha said, in a voice flatter than the statement truly deserved.

“You were travelling with cannibals?” Caleb asked, slowly starting to walk again. Fjord followed suit, noticing Jester and Nott do the same out of the corner of his eye.

Mollymauk shrugged as Yasha and they followed.

“A cannibal, and, in Kylre’s defence, I don’t think it technically counts as cannibalism. It’s not as if the victim was the same species.”

“If you guys were with the circus, does that mean you can do anything cool?” Jester asked, presumably not overly bothered by what was definitely cannibalism, species be doshed.

“Yasha can scream like a fleft-wauf, the resemblance is uncanny. You ever want to see an entire bar of people shit themselves in the space of three seconds? She’s the one for the job.”

Yasha rolled her eyes, which Fjord could now see were a peculiar shade of pink.

“He can tell fortunes.” She said. “I think that’s more impressive.”

“Ooh, how does that work?” Jester asked.

“I attune myself to the Force and reach into the future of the person I’m reading for.” Molly answered.

“That is not how the Force works.” Caleb muttered.

“Oh but it is.” Molly grinned, argument clearly already prepared. “I would know; my ancestors were a secret sect of the Jedi order, I’ve even got the sabres to prove it.”

He swept his coat back to reveal two cylindrical objects, which might have been lightsabres but which Fjord could not see well enough to tell before Nott shot forward to tug the coat closed again.

“Put those away! Are you trying to get us killed?” she hissed, looking about them frantically. “Honestly, you kids these days think just because that di’kut Vessar took out Darth Thordak with one of those things it’s like order sixty six never happened.”

“Folks, could we maybe talk about the particulars when we get back to the ship.” Fjord whispered. “Ain’t exactly a safe conversation topic when we’re out in the open like this; not on a planet this close to the Interior.”

Molly raised his hands in surrender.

“Of course, my apologies.”

They made their way back to the ship without much further trouble, and if Fjord was paying more attention to every Stormtrooper they passed then none of the others remarked on it. What they did remark on, once it came into view, was The Mistake.

The Mistake was a Far*Reach IV PQR, which had been modded to high hell at some point in its younger days. Maker only knew what half the mods had been for; it wasn’t as if any of them worked any more, and nor did most of the guns, hence the name.

“That’s your ship?” Mollymauk asked, eyebrows fast approaching his hairline. “I’ve never seen anything so obviously stolen in my life.”

“We didn’t steal it.” Jester protested.

“Then clearly whoever sold you that thing stole from you.” Caleb shot back. “That thing flies?”

Jester waggled her hand and made an “ehhh” noise.

“Like I said, we encountered a few, uh, technical difficulties on the way down.” Fjord said. “It certainly used to fly.”

“Sweet doshing Maker grant me strength.” Caleb muttered. “You are lucky that I am very familiar with the work of the Loronar Corporation, most mechanics would run screaming from that thing.”

“I still might.” Nott groused.

“I think that this is more of a job for Frumpkin mein freund.”

Before Fjord had had the chance to consider what engineering qualifications a lolth-cat might have, the closest door of The Mistake was flung open, revealing Beau and an alarmingly thick haze of smoke. Her usually black robe was soaked with a splatter of some kind of fluid which seemed to be slowly bleaching the fabric. Her face seemed to have been spared from it, although she did sport the indented outline of goggles around her eyes.

“Might want to leave that for a few ticks.” She called out to them between coughs. “I think something in the engine room just blew up.”

“Good thing we bought a mechanic back with us then.” Fjord replied, wrinkling his nose as the smoke reached them. At this, Beau appeared to notice the group amassed behind him.

“What, all four of them?”

“Just the one with the lolth-cat. One's a package deal with the mechanic and the others want a ride out of here and say that they’ll pay.”

Beau squinted at Caleb as she walked up to them, tilting her head slightly to the side. She leaned into his space, sniffing, even though Fjord knew that humans couldn’t actually use smell to determine anything (and even if they were able to she wouldn’t have been able to smell anything over the smell of the fuel on her clothes). Caleb shrank back, looking down at her with what might have been alarm.

“You sure?” she asked.

“The waitress at the cantina said that he fixed her caf machine.” Jester chirped. “Also she sold us this huge bag of mallow powder.”

“Caf machine is very different from an engine.” Beau’s eyes narrowed even further.

Frumpkin bristled and Caleb’s face suddenly arranged itself into something sterner and he leaned forward once more, inches away from Beau’s face.

“You are not wrong, but the fact that I am able to fix engines qualifies me to fix something much simpler. Whether or not I can fix your engine specifically is something that we will not know until I can look at it, but I would advise that if you want to smell of anything apart from tar-fuel for the rest of your life that you stop leering at me and let me get to work.”

Beau looked down at her clothes.

“Ah, dosh! Hey Jessie, did you see any sort of cleaning station around here?”

“I think there might have been some showers at the cantina, do you want me show you?” Jester replied, handing the mallow powder to Mollymauk, who staggered under the weight for a moment before passing the sack to Yasha.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Can someone bring me some spare clothes?”

“I’ll send one of the others along in a little while, you go get cleaned up.” Fjord assured her.

“Wizard, thanks.” Turning to Caleb she asked, “What was your name again?”

“Caleb. Caleb Widogast.”

“Right, Caleb-Caleb, good to know. You’re gonna need these.” She pulled her goggles off her head and handed them to him. “The light in the engine room has been busted almost as long as we’ve had the thing. Break them and I kill you.”

“Understood.” Caleb replied. “Have you not been able to replace the light? It is a simple fix.”

“Fjord is the only one tall enough, and he won’t go in the engine room because he thinks it’s haunted.” Jester answered him as they turned to leave.

Fjord could see the corners of Nott’s eyes crinkle in what was presumably mirth and did his best to quell the fear that was beginning to establish itself in the pit of his stomach.

“I’d have been less inclined to come to that conclusion if somebody hadn’t hidden in the dark and jumped out at me screaming, Beau.” He called after their retreating backs. Beau flipped him off over her shoulder and he couldn’t help sighing.

“Right, Yasha, Molly. You want to earn passage out of here? You can start by cleaning up the trail of fuel Beau will have left through the ship.” He turned to Caleb and Nott. “I’ll show you where the engine room is, and if you can fix whatever’s in there then you can take the engineer’s quarters for the time you’re with us. Might have to clear it out a bit but we’ll worry about that when we’ve fixed it.”

Caleb gestured to the ship with his spare hand.

“Lead the way.”

Notes: This was based very loosely on this post but veered wildly off in a different direction to the point where I wasn't sure that gifting it would make sense. But if either of the contributors to said post are reading this, please feel free to consider it as such.

I do not own any of the characters or concepts which appear within this fic, I'm sure that I don't need to tell any of you this but please support the actual properties that inspired it (Critical Role and Star Wars).The title is from Weird Al Yankovic's "The Saga Begins", which I also don't own, and I'm sure that you'll already be familiar with, but if not go check that out as well.

[lovetheangelshadow]

N'Pressions: Trolls-The Beat Goes on

It’s funny, sometimes I wonder if Dreamworks is trying to outdo Disney at their own game like they used to in their earlier years. If you’re a thirty something nerdy birdie like myself, you’ll most likely remember the number of shows based off their film franchises that Disney used to put out (Aladdin, Timon and Pumbaa, Buzz Lightyear and Star Command, Emperor’s New School, and Lilo and Stitch just to name a few). Trolls: the Beat Goes on is their latest tv series cash in show to appear on Netflix and Dreamworks TV taking place after the film.

I will be honest here, Trolls did not leave a good n’pression on me (ba bum tis). While not as painful to sit through like Bee movie was, it definitely wasn’t something I would go back to repeated viewings like Kung Fu Panda and How to Train your Dragon had for me. And it is something of a shame because there was quite a bit of good in its favor. I really liked the design of the Trolls (sure they were as marketable as all get but still a nice cute and simple design) and even as monstrous as the Bergens were they never hit that uncanny valley. Even the overall aesthetic of the felted backgrounds and scrapbook animations gave the film a unique appeal. Unfortunately it was dragged down by so much else. I mean, it wasn’t even that bad of a premise either. Bergens thought the only way to feel happiness was eating the super happy Trolls so the Trolls escaped but now some have been captured and Poppy has to save them before they get served up by the Bergens. Simple? Sure, but not everything has to be this uber complicated epic (looking at YOU, Frozen). But oh gods did the film keep spinning it’s wheels. You had so many covers shoved in and they really didn’t add much and they tended to focus on the wrong stuff. I get it, you have to show the romance between Bridget and Gristle to teach the moral; but yeesh was I bored. I get it though, it was pretty clear this was more for kids and not older audiences. Still have to give credit to Timblerlake. He really stepped up since his role in Shrek the Third. Must’ve had practice or something.

So why would I take a look at a show of a movie I didn’t care for? Eh, more of curiosity aaaaaaannnnd I needed something new to listen to while at work. So much like Dawn of the Croods and Home Adventures; Trolls was done in the 2-D style as opposed to keeping to the almost movie quality like Dragons and King Julien have. And I think it works to its advantage. The visuals of the film translate nicely into the 2-D environment and gives more room to work with the world that the Troll film has. On note of the animation itself, it definitely is a step up from Croods and Home. I would put it almost on level with the earlier Disney Afternoon shows which is pretty sparse this day and age. And no, I have nothing against Flash (though I am 90% sure this was Toonboom), but way too often have I seen it being used rather cheaply for broadcasted television. There are some exceptions, but not a lot.

So let’s move on to the storytelling. As stated before, the series takes place after the events of the movie. Trolls and Bergens are trying to get along though cultural ideologies often clash in those episodes. At the time of this review there are thirteen available episodes each split into two eleven minute stories; something that has become fairly common with comedic cartoons these days. And it actually works. The biggest issue I had with the film was that it had so much padding that kept halting the story to fulfill that necessary runtime. With a shorter window, the narrative can remain focused and mostly not waste our time. Poppy and Branch are a couple now and I appreciate how they decided to handle this. Branch is still a semi-paranoid surivialist Troll but he does continually make various efforts to being more open and friendly with the other Trolls. He doesn’t always succeed especially when he forces himself too far and it backfires big time in his face. At the same time he is still the sarcastic burner who will egg Poppy on occasion. Poppy is also more accepting of Branch’s soloist nature and while she will still nudge him forward, she most of the time recognizes when to pull back. Both of them will bring it up if the other goes too far. It’s a cute push and pull thing they’ve got going between them.

Most of the stories are slice of life episodes a lot of them revolve around Troll customs. Seriously, these guys give Ponyville a run for their money. Usually something goes awry usually by either Poppy, Branch, or one of the Snack Pack and it mostly fixed by the end of the episode. Funnily enough, Branch’s episodes usually has him trying to be helpful the Troll populace but pushes it too far that it has an opposite effect; whereas Poppy is trying to make everyone else happy to the point of her own unhappiness or her wellmeangingness is blinded by her optimism and she can’t see right away the consequences of her actions.  The others are more just troublemakers and highjacks ensue. Simple? Sure. But they are bolstered by some pretty clever writing at times and doesn’t feel too juvenile. Yes there are fart jokes and pooping cupcakes. You’re not going to get away from that. Thankfully, those kinds of jokes are tailored back for more witty dialogue and slapstick. Honestly the only episode so far that I didn’t care for was “Trolly Tales” and that was more because Poppy and Branch really felt flanderized and there wasn’t a satisfying payoff at the end.  

The rest of the crew get a little more fleshing out and are for the most part fine. The only character I still despise is Cloud Guy. That guy is a troll and not in the cute fun way either. I sweat he just lives to torment Branch. Anyway, save for I believe three actors (Cooper, Cloud Guy, and Creek) the original cast does not return for this series. I know some people weren’t too happy about that, but I’m not really all that bothered by it. The actors chosen do pretty fine for the most part and carry the songs.

Oh yes, there are musical numbers ladies and gents. Can’t have a series about singing Trolls without them can we? So how does the music hold up here? Honestly? Not bad. Excluding the title there are a total of eight original songs for the series. Personally my feelings on poppy opening tunes is mixed, but the opening theme “Hair in the Air” being a nice short bouncy tune that gets all relevant information across and fudge ruckets is it catchy. Most of the tunes are sung by Poppy or Branch or both. One of the most interesting one’s I’ve heard was the rap battle episode. But to make it more kid friendly they changed it from the traditional diss battle to a compliment battle. Yes, you heard it right. You have to outpraise your opponent. That cannot be an easy thing to do. And thank gods the songs don’t drag things down. I wonder if there is going to be an album of the songs…or do we have to wait years for it (eh MLP?)

So my overall opinion? It’s cute, it’s for kids, and it’s pretty harmless. A lot of the morals are pretty solid (forgiving, too much safety can be smothering, apologies are not excuses for bad behavior). Don’t expect some deep intricate plots here. It’s pretty clear that this is a cash in, but at least they are making the effort of having a good product for you to enjoy. So give it a try and see if it’s your cup of marshmallow. I’m Noctina Noir, and I’m one Nox of a Nobody.

[beautyisyours]

GNAWING AT THE BONES

After my breakup with Betty Boop, I was pretty down in the dumps for a while. I went on dates with a few girls, but nothing serious. That is, until the day of “The List.”

In case you didn’t already pick up on it, I’m a little OCD. So I really like lists. I list the times, places, and locations I need to be every single day. Before the show, I list segments that we are going to do in order of how good I think they will be. After the show, I change that list and list them in order of how well they went on air. I list my favorite soaps. I list my favorite teas. So of course I had a list of pretty girls I wanted to come on my radio show.

Rachel Reinert, one part of the three-member hit country band Gloriana, was definitely on The List. In fact, she might have been at the top of it. When we did a bit on air where we picked the ten most beautiful women in country (given the classy title “The Bones’ Babes”), I put Rachel at number one. (People magazine had just come out with their “Most Beautiful” issue and didn’t pick anyone from the country world, which I found annoying. But the real inspiration behind the segment was my newly single status. As I said on air, “I’m putting a bunch of girls who I would want to date on this list.”)

I didn’t think it would actually work, of course! But shockingly, it did, because the day after we aired this list, with Rachel on top, her people called up the show and asked if I wanted the singer-songwriter to come to the studio the following day. No way! I thought to myself. How embarrassing. But my rule is, the more embarrassing something is for me, the more the listeners will probably enjoy it. And of course I thought it would be funny to strike out on the air with a beautiful girl who I knew wouldn’t want to date me. So I agreed. I even made the whole experience even more embarrassing by writing

her a song, which I imaginatively called “Rachel,” that I played for her in the studio. It could have won the Grammy for Song of the Year. Here, let me show you:

Rachel, I think you are so pretty

When I see you, you make my heart all giddy. Rachel, I got you that trophy

Do you like guys like me that are dopey?

 She smiled and laughed uncomfortably as I performed the whole thing for her, as if I were a creepy stalker. As you can see, my song stylings have met with varying responses when it comes to the ladies. Luckily, the tunes I cowrite for my band the Raging Idiots get a better reception. But at the end of her visit I got her cell number. Well . . . I had a friend tweet her friend to get me her cell number. I’m a total ladies’ man, you know. Anyway, Rachel and I started seeing each other fairly soon after. That’s right! She agreed to go out with me. It was very casual at first, as she was on the road a lot and I woke up at 3 A.M. But it turned into a strong relationship.

Rachel was fun to be around. I was just coming off my four-year relationship with Betty, probably the best human I had ever met, and she was a tough act to follow. But going out with Rachel was not only different, but equally good. Betty, who worked in sales, helped me find balance. She was great at that work-life thing, with a successful career and a strong circle of friends and close family.

Rachel, who had signed her first publishing deal in her teens and moved to Nashville soon after, was a lot like me—i.e., a workaholic. You have to be if you want to make it in the music business. She was always on the road with Gloriana, which had toured with Taylor Swift and won the Academy of Country Music’s award for Top New Vocal Group and a Teen Choice award for Choice Country Group. I would have given her an award, too (oh wait, I did: the Bones’ Babes #1 Hottest Country Singer Award). She was one of the greatest singers I’ve ever heard face-to-face. I would just ask her to play stuff around the house so I could hear her sing. Unfortunately, she never asked me to just tell jokes.

Her talent as a performer was only one aspect of Rachel’s appeal. She was also very open-minded in a climate that, in my opinion, can be too judgmental.

Rachel was just cool, but there was never any kind of country music “power couple” thing between us. First of all, I don’t go to many industry events because I’m a freaky, antisocial dude who feels like everyone at those parties either wants to use me or doesn’t like me. (I know, fun.) I didn’t perceive myself as half of any “celebrity relationship,” as some gossip sites called us. I also never really thought of Rachel as famous. She was super talented and driven, and I was attracted to that. Yet I also saw the grind of her job from the inside: the long bus rides, the program directors you have to drive all over the country to talk to in order to get your song on the radio, the many, many struggles of being a recording artist.

Struggling, which we all do, whether you’re a truck driver or a country music star, is what brought a common humanity not just to Rachel but to all the good and talented folks I’ve met in Nashville. Recognizing that beneath the makeup, four-hundred-dollar distressed jeans, and perfect hair (or steamed baseball cap—seriously, I’ve seen some country music dudes get that done to their hats before they go onstage), we’re all just the same. Knowing this to be true is what’s helped me most with my on-air interviewing of celebrities.

Most people, even those in the media, get intimidated by famous folks. Often interviewers are so worried about making celebrities uncomfortable or unhappy in any way that they ask the same questions as every other journalist, which means the famous person gives the same answer over and over until it becomes muscle memory. I think having to say the same thing again and again is the most annoying thing ever for anyone, famous or anonymous. I’m not in the business of making musicians uncomfortable or annoyed (at least, I don’t think I am). So if I can break the verbal rut they’re in, there’s no telling where I can go. Awful or awesome, either way is great.

The way I do this is by humanizing people who don’t seem human to others because of their larger-than-life status. “What did you eat for breakfast?” “Did you have a dog, growing up?” “What kind of underwear do you wear?” I ask about simple stuff that celebrities don’t usually get asked.

I do interviews constantly, in a medium where the conventional wisdom is that they’re not good for ratings. But I’ve always felt that listeners tune out when they hear interviews because most people on the radio or television aren’t doing interesting interviews. We once were given research that compared The Bobby Bones Show to other morning national shows, and what they found was that while other hosts gushed over their guests just for

showing up, my interviews were more of a back-and-forth between peers.

I was happy the research bore out what I hope comes through on my show. Not only do I feel the peer-to-peer quality of my questions makes for more interesting radio, but I do believe it also puts the artist at ease. When Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert split up, I was the first one who got him to talk in any real way about his divorce, because I talked to him in, well, a real way. Instead of asking him a fawning nonquestion, like “It must be so hard for you,” or making an accusation, like “Was there someone else?” I went at the angle, “You’re famous, and she’s famous. And you guys kept it secret until it was finalized. Now, all personal things aside, how did you do that?” With that Blake was able to separate himself a bit, talk about the law, and then he kind of just went, “Our whole thing was, we are going to be cool about this. It is what it is . . . we’re buddies.” That might not seem like big news to you (and it wasn’t to me), but that interview was picked up by every media outlet from the Today show to CNN to the Christian Post.

Even celebrity listeners, like Tim McGraw, liked what we were doing on the show. Although now we’ve done a few specials together for TV and radio, the first time he was on our show was when he called in to our request line! The country superstar said he was just a fan of the show and that he listened every day as he drove his kids to school. It was so crazy that honestly we didn’t believe it was him, and so we asked him a lot of trivia questions to see if it was really him. (Obviously, he passed with flying colors.) When I moved to Nashville, I had been told, “Tim is really quiet and doesn’t warm up quickly to people.” But that’s not what I found at all. When he found out that I’d never owned or worn a cowboy hat, he gave me the black one he’d worn throughout his whole Las Vegas run. Tim even sent me a murse (man purse) that he had bought but was too embarrassed to wear.

[concertcollector-blog]

“Part Three” by Chase Atlantic (Review)

About a week ago, Chase Atlantic dropped what I’m assuming is the final component of their EP trilogy. Part Three was released with a total of 4 brand new tracks to give fans yet another little taste of what they’ve got planned for the future (at least, I hope they’ve got more planned for the future). While Part One was a total hit for me, Part Two was unfortunately more of a miss in my book. For that reason I was slightly nervous to hear what the band had in store for this EP. Would it wow me like the first installment of this series, or would it just barely meet my expectations like its companion?

Right of the bat I noticed that the band decided to change up the album artwork this time around. The spooky red background and x-ray filtered bodies of the band members sparked my curiosity almost immediately. I soon learned that the new color-scheme really fit the mood of the whole EP, which I do appreciate. The contents of the EP, however, gave me some mixed emotions once again. Let’s get into it, shall we?

Track 1: Drugs & Money

Not to be confused with “Drugs & Candy” by All Time Low, though it shouldn’t be hard to mix up ATL’s delicate ballad with this dangerous, cocky, and fun new track from Chase Atlantic.  

The song opens up the entire EP with creepy forest sounds and disoriented wind chimes, and then immediately fades into a slow, steady, and attention grabbing beat. I was satisfied for the first few moments, until I realized that already, this track sounded a lot some of the other songs Chase Atlantic have released recently. As the first minute of the song passed by, I was hoping the chorus would pick up.

Fortunately, with just a simple cock of a fake gun, “Drugs & Money” transcends into a chorus that is short, sweet, and catchy as hell. “Drugs and fucking money”; the repetitive use of this badass phrase is something that I was expecting from a band like Chase Atlantic. What I appreciate about it this explicit lyric is that this line works for them. They sing about these antics in such an effortless way that I hardly even think twice about the ridiculousness of them.

However, after the high I experienced throughout the chorus of “Drugs & Money”, I came back down to the somewhat disappointing reality that overall, the song wasn’t their most unique. It felt very similar to some of Chase Atlantic’s older songs like “Into It” and “Why Stop Now”. But after listening to this track a few more times, I’ve grown more fond if it and I can definitely see myself rocking out to it more in the future. 

Song rating: 7.5/10

Track 2: Keep It Up

The infamous Chase Atlantic saxophones open up the next song on the EP, “Keep It Up”. This track is definitely my favorite song from Part Three for a few reasons.

The first verse instantly put a smile of relief on my face. I knew at the 15-second mark that this song was going to have a completely different style than “Drugs & Money”, which, in my case, was a good thing. The beat of this song is light, airy, and sweet. From the quick lyrics to funky bass in the background, this song instantly made me want to get up and dance in the middle of my bedroom. 

Following another verse and chorus about being free and “riding the wave”, the track transcends into the bridge, a quieter melody of intimate lyrics, snapping fingers, and of course, the trumpets. I feel like no Chase Atlantic song can be complete without the saxophone, and they sound great no matter how the band uses them. 

The transition from the bridge to the last chorus is probably my favorite part of the entire song. As Mitchel Cave chants on for his love interest to “give it up”, the editing on his vocals and prominent drum beat in the background mesh together perfectly. It makes my body sway from side to side every single time I listen to it. 

But, what I appreciate the most about this song is the fact that it sounds like the Chase Atlantic I fell in love with last year. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for bands expanding their horizons, but I think Chase Atlantic make their best music when sticking to their alternative pop/rock roots. “Keep It Up” sounds like it belongs on one of the band’s older EPs, the EPs that initially caught my attention when I first gave the band a go. 

On top of being a naturally groovy and captivating song, “Keep It Up” is a relieving reminder that Chase Atlantic will probably never completely ditch their old sound.

Song rating: 8.5/10

Track 3: 23

Then, after “Keep It Up”, we are brought to my other favorite track on the EP, called “23″. 

Over the last few years, Chase Atlantic has created a handful of slow and intimate songs, including ”Gravity”, “Hold Your Breath” and “Roxanne”. But I have to say, after listening to “23″ a few more times after my initial first impression, I can safely say that it is the best ballad the band has released yet. 

The song opens up with a calm, almost lullaby-esque feeling accompanied by the sounds of a raging storm outside. A smooth transition introduces the first verse, where Cave‘s soft voice sings about mixed emotions, losing his mind, and a struggle to “straighten out”. The first verse definitely caught my attention the first time I listened, and I was eager to hear where this song would go. Needless to say, it only got better from there.

Overall, the more I listen to "23″, the more I seem to fall in love with it. On top of its simple and beautiful melodies, there’s an obvious storyline to this song that I dive deeper and deeper into with each listen. 

I pay very close attention to the words being said, and I truly feel for the girl this song was written about. I don’t know what exactly happened to her, but I also didn’t expect to. I’m sure the band’s intention when writing this song was to keep it up for interpretation, and they did a great job of doing that. 

One lyric that gets me every time is in the chorus: “Baby’s only twenty-three, dancing under lights since she was seventeen”. There is something about that line that is so beautifully said, yet so upsetting at the same time. It’s vague enough to keep her story a secret, but straight-forward enough to let the audience’s imaginations run wild. 

Thanks to the instrumentals, powerful lyrics, and overall vibe of the song, “23″ is the most visual and thought-provoking track on Part Three, and it’s definitely worth a listen. I really appreciate Chase Atlantic for including such a lovely song on this EP. 

Song rating: 8.5/10

Track 4: No Friends (feat. ILoveMakonnen & K Camp)

The final track on Part Three, titled “No Friends”, is probably my least favorite from this EP. What starts out as a song with great potential to be a banger, unfortunately plummets into another basic song that sounds like everything else on the charts right now. 

Let’s start with some pros. I love the introduction of the song. Right away we hear a very promising beat that’s both unique and a little menacing. As it builds up, an Siri-like voice steps in to remind us all that we are in fact listening to Chase Atlantic. It’s a small detail that makes me chuckle every time. 

The first verse of the song is pretty good, in my opinion. I could tell almost immediately that this song would be a lot like “Drugs & Money”, which was a little bit of a concern, considering I like their alt-pop stuff a lot more. But nonetheless, the first verse was not a disappointment. It was catchy and had a lot of potential to wow me.  

The chorus of “No Friends” is even better, and definitely my favorite part of the whole song. Cave’s voice gets very passionate as he sings about his lack of friends on the guest list, and I can totally hear the emotion and shade behind his words. 

The first time I listened to this song I was pretty satisfied. That is, until the song hit the 1:09 mark, and I immediately felt like I had heard this song a hundred times on the radio before. 

One thing I strongly dislike is auto-tuned rap music, but it has been very popular lately. Perhaps Chase Atlantic wanted to experiment with this trend by featuring K CAMP, but my first impression was not thrilled with his verse. After listening to the song multiple times, hoping I’d grow accustomed to it, I still feel disappointed every time the second verse rolls around. 

After another “lit” chorus, the 3rd verse is rapped by ILoveMakonnen, the other artist featured on this track. His part is better than K CAMP’s mostly because he actually has some emotion in his voice as he raps, but it still doesn’t wow me. In my opinion, this song would’ve been great if it was done strictly in the style of Chase Atlantic. 

But, overall, this song is catchy, well-produced, and caters to the side of their fanbase who digs the rap/R&B vibes. I appreciate the effort Chase Atlantic put into experimenting with new sounds, but I’m just not particularly fond of it. 

Song rating: 5.8/10

In conclusion, I still believe Part One is the best installment from Chase Atlantic’s 2017 trilogy, but there are a lot of reasons why Part Two and Part Three are great as well. Part Three, although probably my least favorite out of the series, still shows a lot of growth and passion from the band. 

Chase Atlantic definitely tried some new styles out this time around, and I can see why most fans really enjoy it. My own personal opinion feels otherwise, but nonetheless I will keep jamming out to this EP until they release something new. I am really hoping that a debut album is in the works, and I can’t wait to see what this band does next. 

[weareafuckingmess-blog]

Song of the Day - September 22, 2017

BTS - DNA

[M] It is finally here and first things first, Jungkook turning 20 seemed to hit him over night. Gone is our little maknae and hello adult Kookie!! V’s opening vocals on this track were absolutely amazing, and then that J-Hope build into Rap Monster on that first verse was amazing. It left me expecting so much from this song. The song is extremely catchy, dancey and upbeat but I don’t know if this is something I was expecting from BTS. I mean autotuning the great Jungkook’s vocals killed me, I don’t get what your doing BigHit. Jungkook does not need auto tune have you heard that man sing. Jin’s bridge part though was absolutely killer and I am glad that Big Hit is finally recognizing his vocal talents as well. I find over all Her as an album really showcases and highlights Jimin which is good because Jimin is extremely talented. V is the member who shines through the most in DNA to me. I am finding this song and most of the album seems to focus very much so on the vocal line which is fine because they are extremely talented but I found Suga, J-Hope and Rap Monster getting a little lost in the song which is sad since they are what BTS was formed around. Big Hit needs to find a balance between the two and as a die hard A.R.M.Y I have to say so far this is probably one of my least favourite BTS title tracks/ albums to date. However the album is good, like really good I just don’t find it BTS amazing because I know that they are extremely talented and expected great things from them.

[C] I’m kind of all over the place with my thoughts on this. First, the first time I listened to this I was disappointed I wanted more of a hit on the chorus and all the auto tune they did to Jungkook and Jimin I just, why? Bighit did everything right with V starting the song off though I died!  Second, Where the hell is this continuation of the trilogy?? What was all the fancy trailers for?? Bighit you can’t spend how long teasing it as the ending and then do absolutely nothing for the music video. I’m thinking there’s going to be something I just don’t know what. I spent the first time watching this staring at Jungkook though because puberty definitely got that boy in the blink of an eye I’m still in shock right now. I also was expecting a more hard hitting beat in the chorus. Half of my expectations were just me expecting too much I think.  I love that they have had so much success lately especially with winning the Billboard trust me when I say I was squealing whenever I seen them on TV. With this album they seem to have become very Americanized which doesn’t surprise me and I was silently hoping it wouldn’t happen. One of the things I love about Kpop is the fact that it’s different from American music because I can’t stand the majority of it. All of my let downs aside, DNA is still really catchy I had it stuck in my head while I was work today. Like M said, they’ve definitely focused a lot on the vocal line, I’m not complaining at all but Bighit you need a balance. This has grown on me since it was released and I’ve been listening to it quite a bit the other tracks on the album more so than the title I’m sure with more time I’ll love it all. P.S V is killing me with this era *-*

[S] what can I say about DNA? A lot of what I feel about this release has already been said by C and M. I find DNA go be a huge disappointment the teasers annoyed me because yet again bighit is continuing down the path of never ending the trilogy and have really just become one trick ponies when it comes to concepts. I hate that they use the teasers for all their come backs as 'links' to the trilogy and then come out with a music video that has nothing to do with anything. I want the trilogy to gave a conclusion the magic and drama of it has been ruined for me at this point and what was a beautiful heartbreaking story of youth and sadness that had me feeling confused and sad and was so artistically done has just been ruined and cheapened it lost its value to me. My view on the teasers and stuff aside this is probably the only bts album I do not like. When I heard the song I was disappointed when I heard M playing the entire album when I came home from work one day I decided I had no interest in it. each song sounded the same and who in their right mind autotunes jungkook?!!! It is unfortunate and I hate to say it but BTS had definitely lost their edge. what happened to songs like tomorrow and spine breaker... yes they were less refined but they were still BTS it is like bighit has taken away the very thing that made them BTS and I cannot say I am a fan of what direction bighit is pulling them in. I don't know what this means for me in the future as a BTS fan I just feel myself drifting farther and farther from their music with each release. hopefully Bighit doesn't end up ruining them.

[lukeysgirl]

Relentless | Calum Hood Series Pt.14

                                         Part F O U R T E E N

Request: Being the cousin of Ashton Irwin was exciting, especially when invited to their tour to hang out with his best friends. You found yourself becoming fond of Calum Hood, who finds you annoying from your constant appearance. But what would happen if you stopped giving him that attention?

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: this part is a lil spicy, so im sry if it kills ya heart ! but i swear itll get better, i promise it will ! im so happy you all enjoy it so much, it makes me smile so much! 100 notes please, loves xx

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. [DONE]  

                                                   I M A G I N E

Tokyo, 8:00 A.M. 

The boys remained silent once you asked about Nia. Michael became more pale than he already is as all the boys were quick to lose their appetites. That made your heart beat go faster. You couldn’t help but feel super nervous over their reactions. 

“W-well?” You asked desperately, looking over to your cousin in hopes that he’ll say something. But even Ashton couldn’t meet your eyes. “Guys, please don’t do this...” 

“Nia is part of the band also signed with Capitol,” Luke chimed. You looked over at the blonde boy, studying his indirect gaze at you as you listened attentively. 

“You mean from Hey Violet, right?” You furthered your interrogation. 

“Mhm,” Luke hummed with a nod. “She’s the drummer, but does vocals as well.” 

“But what’s her...” You began but trailed off, seeing Luke’s understanding of what you were asking. 

“She got close to him for the last year now,” Luke admitted. “She’s got this huge crush on Calum, but I think he found her annoying as well. But not because he likes her or anythin.’ Like actually annoying.” 

You giggled at this, but it still didn’t put you at ease. It was a little too much to be so overprotective when you just got with Calum, but you two have history. You and him have been in love with each other without the other knowing it. It felt like a challenge now knowing that you were to meet her soon. 

“Did he... did they ever... you know...” You broke your words, pure discomfort in allowing them to escape your lips. “Do anything?” 

Before Luke can continue, Michael patted his head gently. 

“Ask Calum yourself, okay?” Michael spoke to you softly. You look up at him, seeing the usually hyperactive spirit become so mature at serious times. It always amazed you how big he grew. “It would be more appropriate to hear it from him than anyone else about it.” 

“Okay then.” You still felt a little incomplete by everything. You didn’t want to feel so insecure as Calum was already yours and head over heels for you. Furthering that he didn’t even like Nia in return. But nonetheless, you can’t help but feel like something bad will happen once you get to America to meet the band. 

“...In other news, One OK Rock is coming with us to America!” Ashton pipes, changing the subject to something more exciting. You smiled at that, genuinely excited to get to know the band more. 

“We’re gonna have the best fucking time, mate!” Michael continued. “I was hoping that we could surprise the fans a bit by playing Take What You Want at one of our concerts soon since they’re our opening act.” 

“I think that would make the fans go crazy,” you agreed with Michael’s idea wholeheartedly. While Michael was hype over your response, you watched as the suite door opened to allow a seemingly-distressed Calum back in. 

“The management wants us to do a pop-up show in Nagoya,” Calum informed the boys. “So we’re leaving right now to make it over to Century Hall in time for soundcheck and what not. We have to tweet about it.” 

“Okay.” The 3 boys filed out of the suite immediately, leaving you alone with Calum. You stood up, dusted your bottom off of potential dust, and began to clean up after the boys. Picking up the plates and cups, you begin to head to the kitchen until Calum halted you. 

“Let me help you.” You watch as Calum lifts the weight of the ceramic plates from your arms and places them in the sink. He runs the water over them to remove residue and shuts it off, grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands. You watch as he returned in front of you and opens his arms in front of you. “Can I have a hug?” 

“Oh-- of course!” You quickly replied, rushing into your boyfriends arms as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt warm, sinking into the kind embrace of your lovely boyfriend. You realize that acting so paranoid won’t help your relationship progress at all. So instead, you’ve just chosen to ignore it and bring it up if it ever is brought up. You want to enjoy the time you have with Calum before returning back to your studies. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, love?” Calum mumbles against the top of your head, giving you a gentle kiss on your delicate head. One of his hands began weaving into your soft locks, giving you such a euphoric feeling of his touch. “I’m annoyed that you’re acting in a mood.” 

“I told you this morning that I was tired, baby,” you said softly, the side of your face leaning against his chest cozily. You suddenly felt his heart beat go a bit rapid than before, having you wondering what had happened. 

“You know, Y/N,” Calum began as he spoke against your head. “That’s the first time you’ve ever used ‘baby’ to address me.” 

“Has it?” You asked, slightly shocked and embarrassed at this. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I have called you baby or babe before!” 

“Probably, but you don’t use it that often!” Calum exclaims, pulling you off a bit to laugh at you. You blushed, giggling a bit yourself as you attempted to cover your face. “Baby, you’re so beautiful, don’t cover it up from me.” 

“Nooo, I’m so embarrassed!” You squeal. “I’m still not used to dating you because it’s so weird and I never thought it would ever happen but it did so I’m still in a bit of shock and disbelief and I’m rambling now, aren’t I?” 

“I’m glad I still make you nervous,” Calum said fondly. “It means that even though you have me, you’re still scared to do something wrong. You’re even afraid to use ‘baby’ even though you have the complete right to.” 

“Shush already, bubba,” you groaned sheepishly, hugging yourself with your arms as Calum laughed at you again. But he quickly pulled you into a hug again and rested his chin on your head. You could feel and hear his heart slow down now, making you feel a bit more at ease. 

“I’m glad you’re not mad at me or anything, bug.” 

Nagoya, 11:58 P.M.

You and the 8 boys arrived at the stadium way before the concert even begins, allowing everybody to prepare at soundcheck. You all came by train, so it was an obvious that Calum had slept on you for the good 3 hours and you were wide awake to make sure he slept soundly without interruption. Now at the stadium, you watched from the front seats as One OK Rock prepared their instruments first. 

“Have you heard anything from us, Y/N?” Taka asked politely as he began walking towards the front of the stage. The sun ray licked Taka’s pink hair perfectly as he sat down with his legs hanging off the stage. “Other than the song we sang last night together.” 

“Unfortunately, no, I haven’t!” You said sheepishly. “I was gonna look up your stuff, but it seemed so embarrassing already because I’m now on tour with you guys as well!” 

“It’s okay!” Taka tried, his tone threateningly cute for your own good. “But now that we’re here at soundcheck, I would hope that you could lend an ear.” 

“I’ll lend both!” You quickly stabbed in the air. “Your vocals were amazing when you sang with the boys-- I’d love to hear you some more, Taka.” 

“Mm, I’ve been practicing this song for a bit now,” Taka began, giving you a hopeful smile. “It’s not mine, but I am fond of it. I’ve been covering it and I might just be singing it during our set. Wanna hear it?” 

Giving him a vigorous nod, he requests one of the workers to pass him an acoustic guitar. As he reaches up to grab it, you glance to your side to find Calum somewhat glare over. He was at the back of the stage, testing his bass on his own. But that didn’t keep him from paying attention to you. 

“Okay, here we go...” Taka said slowly, giving you another quick smile before looking down at the guitar chords. He gives the strings a light rub before beginning to strum. “Can you hear, my heart beat? Tired of feeling, never enough. I close my eyes and tell myself that my dreams will come true...” 

You couldn’t help but smile from how clean Taka’s voice was and his insane control over it. He played with passion, like the rest of the boys, with an amazing originality that seemed impossible to compare. 

“Don't stop us now, the moment of truth--” His voice became more aggressive and strong, with veins popping from his neck. You could tell he was simply committed to singing. “We were born to make history. We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around. Yes, we were born to make history!” 

“Yo!” 

Taka suddenly stopped his music for you and him to turn and look over at Calum. His face was it’s usual resting bitch face as he held his long-strapped bass on him. He looked annoyed, which is a regular with Calum. But more annoyed at Taka more than anything. 

“Stop impressing my girlfriend,” Calum mumbled. “It’s annoying and it’s pissing me off.” You always giggled at Calum’s bluntness. Although it was playful, considering Taka was a friend, Calum still couldn’t help his jealousy at all. 

“Calm down, Hood,” Taka chuckled as he began to stand up and rush over to the Maori boy. He took off the guitar from his body and placed it on the stage in the center. He rushed over and gave Calum a big hug. “I love you!” 

“I hate you,” Calum replied, having jokingly and half annoyed. 

The management had been working them for hours in soundcheck. They desired flawless perfection, forcing them to ensure that all the mics would be ready, all the instruments were tuned to perfect, and Calum still had his lucky pick. This was also payback for the boys being careless regarding their flight over to Japan. But as they did, Calum kept receiving back to back calls and had to keep hanging up to the point where he simply shut it off. 

“Y/N, baby, let me serenade you,” Calum began, shoving Taka off playfully as he grabbed the acoustic and walked down the stage. He sat down the way Taka did as he adjusted the guitar on his lap. 

“Serenade me, aye?” You teased. “You gonna play Grind On Me for me, Cally?” You watched as your boyfriend frowned from the pet name you used. 

“You are not using Cally as a cute pet name for me,” Calum growled. 

“Awh, but it suits you so well!”

“No it doesn’t!” As Calum exclaimed, his phone slipped out of his pocket and dropped on the stage. As Calum bickered with you about the pet name, you couldn’t help but stare at his phone. It was off, but a series of calls have been disrupting Calum’s life. You couldn’t help but ponder...

Who was calling him? 

6:35 P.M. 

You stayed back stage with the boys as One OK Rock was delivering their set. You ensured to keep a good ear on their performance while still speaking with your boys. It was obviously that Taka and his band were very talented. They play perfectly in sync with Taka’s vocals so flexible. You were all in all very impressed. 

“So I got the scab from the party last night...” The other 3 boys were discussing who knows what while Calum had snagged you aside to speak with you. The both of you were recapping the party and how Calum danced so sensually on you. 

“You were off it, Calum!” You exclaimed. “I don’t even know how you were even able to dance like that in your skinny jeans!” 

“Y/N, I wear them every day,” Calum chuckled as he watched another video of his grinding. “I’ve gotten used to them and just know how to be flexible in them.” 

“But that’s not how it works!” Laughter and smiles were exchanged. This feels nice, you thought. Just happy vibes with your boyfriend made you feel more at ease about everything. It put your curiosity about Nia in a more settled state, allowing you to actually have a good time with the boy you love. 

“Jesus, I really got deep in there, didn’t I--” Calum began as he pointed at his crotch grinding against yours. But the video was suddenly halted when a caller was coming in. You tilted your head a bit to see the caller ID. 

Your heart froze to see the contact name. 

“Who is Nia Lovelis?” You asked softly, studying Calum;s face as he looked down at his phone. He quickly ended the call and put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb.’ He reluctantly looked over at you and gave you a simple, stern expression. 

“Nobody,” Calum mutters quickly. 

“She’s obviously somebody if she has your number and calls you,” you say with an annoyed tone. “Has she... is she the one who has been calling you over and over?” 

“Doesn’t matter, it has nothing to do with you.” 

“Yes it does, actually!” 

“No it fucking doesn’t, Y/N!” Calum growled at you. “You have no reason to be jealous--” 

“Who said that I was jealous?” 

“Y/N, you’re retaliating over a girl calling me right now,” Calum said with an eye roll. “Of course you’re fucking jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous of a girl I haven’t even met,” you spat. “You’re the one dodging my questions-- why would I be jealous of someone who you claim is ‘nobody?’” 

“Because she’s another girl in my life, of course,” Calum said it with ‘isn’t it obvious?’ tone. “Everyone knows how girlfriends are about guys having friends who are girls.” 

“Holy shit, Calum, I just want to know who she is!” You exclaimed, desperate for answers. This has been killing you since the morning, wishing he would just answer your question so you can be relieved. “I don’t mind you having girls as friends, I just want to know who Nia is!” 

“But answer me first! Why the fuck do you care?” Calum yelled, having you taken aback by his strong tone. He raised his voice at you, having you fear that he was going to potentially hit you. You stayed quiet, looking at your boyfriend with horror in your eyes. 

“Y/N, just tell me why the hell do you care?” Calum asked, his voice much lower but still filled with anger. His hands gently grabbed your shoulders, having him force you to stare into his eyes. His touch sent chills down your spine, but not of anticipation. 

“Woah woah, calm yourself, Hood!” Ashton quickly came to your aid as he pulled you away from Calum. He stood in front of you, his hands shoving themselves in his pockets as he glanced back at you. “What’s going on?” 

“She’s askin’ about Nia,” Calum responded for you. “I don’t even know why-- how could she even have heard about her anyways?” Calum then slowly realized, widening his eyes before looking back at you. “Did you look through my fucking phone?” 

“Mate, you’re scarin’ her!” Michael quickly began, holding Calum’s shoulder. His chest was heaving quickly, but you weren’t noticing much. You kept your eyes on the floor, gazing distantly at it as Taka’s voice continued to ring through. 

“Though,” Luke piped in. “It would make sense if she did when she asked us earlier about Nia...” 

“Wait.” Calum looked like he wanted to explode. “Y/N asked about Nia? What the fuck-- what did you guys tell her?” Calum sounded like he was paranoid, almost pleadingly that the boys hadn’t uttered much to you. 

“Y/N, did you even look through his phone?” Ashton began quietly, glancing back at you to see you nod your head no. 

“I don’t even know the pass code...” you whispered truthfully, having Ashton turn back at the other boys. 

“Y/N isn’t lying, you know,” Michael said softly. “She’d never lie to us. And I’m pretty sure as cousins, Ashton would know if she would be lying.” Ashton confirmed this with a nod, feeling a bit of relief knowing how close he keeps his blood in his heart. 

“My cousin would never look through a phone that isn’t hers without consent...” Ashton murmurs. But you noticed how he tilted his head a bit, with his eyes a bit dim. “But how did you hear about Nia?” 

“She could’ve Googled ‘Calum girlfriend’ or something,” Luke suggested. You knew he didn’t mean to interrogate you, but he just wanted to put out potential options. 

“If she did that, she would’ve known about One OK Rock already,” Michael points out. And it’s true. You weren’t really stalkerish about the boy’s lives really. All you knew was that One Direction took them on their tour and they were finally signed to have their own tours. If you wanted to know any truth about rumors of the boys (if you cared enough), you would have asked your cousin himself. What would do you good to look into rumors about your childhood best friends? 

“And Hey Violet.” Ashton added. 

“Then, Y/N...” Calum began again, his voice a bit more calm and low than before. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, knowing that there were two flames in there ready to burst. “How do you know about Nia?” 

You felt nervous, feeling like you were a bad girlfriend for stirring drama in the band. But, you couldn’t help and feel insecure again. Whoever this girl was could be trying to take Calum from you and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it. You clenched your hands into fists, feeling your emotions build up and distribute themselves around your body. Tears flooded your eyes and streamed down your cheek very slowly. 

“Because,” you choked, the words burning to get out. With shaky vocals, you let out a breath before speaking. “Calum said her name when he was falling asleep last night.” 

yikes, im causing drama ! pls dont hate meee. let me know whatcha think right over here (please and thank you!) im so happy you guys love this series so much-- i hope it never ends! 

[pennylane85]

The Search for Everything Review

Apologize for not writing a review sooner, I was busy then some health stuff popped up and I stopped listening to “The Search for Everything” and replaced it with “Battle Studies.”  Sometimes you need to hear “War of My Life” over and over. Anyways, “The Search for Everything “is back in rotation. I have to say I like this album as a whole a lot better than the individual songs released as the waves. I think songs work better when listened as a set and not randomly selected. I feel like the album tells more of story when you listen to it from start to finish. I’ve noticed when I’m listening I’m not skipping tracks, I play the entire CD, which I don’t normally do. Even with “Born and Raised” I skip “Love Is a Verb.”  

I don’t relate to this CD as much as I do others b/c I don’t relate to the break-up segments. Sometimes I listen to these songs and I want to take Mayer by the collar and say “No woman is worth this, move on, you’re better off alone.” But I’m not a lovey-dovey person either.

Still Feel Like Your Man - Musically I like this song; I’m not into the lyrics though. I absolutely hate the shampoo lyric. I guess if I didn’t picture Katy the whole time I’d have a different reaction, but that’s all I see, so this is not a favorite.

Emoji of a Wave - I didn’t like this song in the waves, it has grown on me, but I have yet to hear it live. For me this is another “All I think about is Katy” song, so meh. I do like the Beach Boys harmonies and I like the music. I could do without the “Oh honey” parts. I guess fave lyrics are “I’ve been talking to myself, just to hear you, and you’re saying everything I wished you’d would, and it’s so good.”

Helpless - I love everything about this song, from the guitar solo to Tiffany’s background vocals. This is one of my favorite Mayer songs ever, musically. I’m so in love with this song. I just rock out to it. It gives me Rolling Stones vibes. “If I’m helpless, tell me now, tell me now and I’ll stop trying to figure it out.”

Love on the Weekend - The music has grown on me since the single was released last fall. I’ll be driving around be-bopping along and singing. I still don’t like the “I hate your guts” lyric. Fave lyrics are: “I can’t believe I get to see your face.” “You be the DJ, I’ll be the driver, you put your feet up in the getaway car, I’m flying fast like a wanted man, I want you baby like you can’t understand.”

In the Blood - It throws me every time. You’re driving around enjoying and be-bopping along to “Love on the Weekend” then *Bam* it’s like you get punched in the face as soon as “In the Blood” starts. It’s my fave song lyrically of his. It’s up there with “Born and Raised.” It’s so personal and I relate to it in every way.  I hate how it’s becoming a single with country radio b/c it’s so personal. It reminds me of what happened with “Daughters.” When I first heard that song I immediately thought “I’m that fucked up girl he’s singing about.” Then it became a single, won him another Grammy and became so commercialized that I can’t stand the song now.  I hope that doesn’t happen with “In the Blood” because it’s truly a treasure. Fave lyrics: “How much of my mother has my mother left in me, how much of my love will be insane to some degree, and what about this feeling that I’m never good enough, will it wash out in the water or is always in the blood.” “I can feel the love I want, I can feel the love I need, but it’s never gonna come the way I am, could I change it if I wanted?”

Changing - If that isn’t enough then next comes “Changing.” I really enjoy this tune, that electric guitar solo in the middle of the song. I haven’t heard this one live yet and I can’t wait! Fave lyrics: “I may be old and I may be young, but I am not done changing.” “Some of us stopped running, some of us went home, some of us don’t got one, so we’ll build one of our own.”  

Theme from The Search for Everything - I like it. I think it’s needed after listening to “In the Blood” and “Changing” back to back. It’s a nice little pallet cleanser. You can hit the reset button after this and move along w/the tune.

Moving on and Getting Over - I always forget this isn’t the beginning of the CD when this song comes on. I love it musically and lyrically. “For all my running, I can’t understand, I’m one text away from being back again.”

Never on the Day You Leave – For me this is another “Katy” song and I just can’t relate. Like I said, I haven’t really been in a relationship so the whole break-up doesn’t really hit home w/me.  

Rosie – I like this tune. I like the guitar tone. Fave lyrics: “Don’t leave me here, under the January rain.”

Roll It on Home - This kind of goes along with “On the Way Home” from “Paradise Valley,” musically. I dig it. I still have yet to hear this one live and “On the Way Home” so hopefully this summer they get played at the shows I’m at. Fave lyrics: “The one that you had eyes for had their eyes for your best friend. “ “You've been here so long tonight's already yesterday.”

You’re Gonna Live Forever in Me – I love this song. It has a very Randy Newman-esque “You’ve Got A Friend in Me” vibe that reminds me of the film, “Toy Story.” I want it to be played at my funeral. Fave lyrics are “It all ends unfortunately, but you’re gonna live forever in me.” “Parts of me were made by you.”

[reds-self-ships]

🔎 The Adventure of the Detection Club

Chapter 10: The Case of the Familiar Coroner

Table of Contents & Trigger Warnings

⚠ CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: Contains major spoilers for the ending of The Great Ace Attorney 2,—viewer discretion is severely advised unless you either know the ending or if you don't mind being spoiled. Warning for references to blood & gore made in passing.

“Er, Redford, are you coming?” asked Ryunosuke, standing outside the entrance to the coroner’s laboratory.

“Yeah. Just a second,” said Redford, furiously scribbling into his notebook.

Ryunosuke was ready to admit that, perhaps taking a crime fiction author with a habit for scribbling down notes to Scotland Yard, the headquarters of London’s Metropolitan Police, might not have been the best idea he’d ever had.

After the red-headed writer had taken more than his fill of descriptions of working police officers and layout of their offices and certain procedures, he joined Ryunosuke and Susato in descending down the staircase towards the coroner’s lab.

Ryunosuke gagged. “What’s that…awful smell?”

Susato sniffed the air. “It smells like formaldehyde. If I recall correctly from one of my father’s medical textbooks, it’s often used to sterilize medical tools before an operation. And it can also be used to preserve the human body to make sure that the body doesn’t decompose before its time.”

“So could it be used to stop aging? So I could stay 23 forever?” asked Ryunosuke.

“Well if you wanted to die in order to stop yourself aging, then yes, I suppose you could.” replied Redford. “The stuff, besides smelling as though it’s going to burn the inner hairs of your nostrils off, also happens to be very poisonous. The smell of it’s fine though, as long as the place is kept well ventilated or in a small amount.”

“Fair enough,” said Ryunosuke nasally as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The three continued to descend down the stairs before pausing at the front door of Dr. Gulloyne’s office as they heard something.

“What’s that noise, Mr. Naruhodo?”

“It sounds like someone humming and mumbling to themselves, but it’s not a song I’d recognise.”

“It sounds familiar to me…” said Redford, picking up the tune himself. “It sounds like ‘Frère Jacques’.”

“Eh?”

“It’s a French song. It means ‘Brother John’ in English though.”

“Ah. That’s probably why I’ve never heard of it before. It was only last week that Kazuma and I learned what the label on a bottle of French sparkling water said.”

“Which was?”

“‘Sparkling Water – Product of France’ or as it said in French: ‘Eau pétillante - Produit de France’.”

“Your pronunciation is rather excellent, Ryunosuke.”

“Oh, er…th-thank you…Mr. Sholmes taught me the pronunciation…” Ryunosuke stuttered, his face turning so red that he was glad that there wasn’t much light down at this depth of the building.

“Wait a second! I think I know whose voice that is…” said Susato, hurriedly opening the door and entering the coroner’s office.

Redford and Ryunosuke followed quickly after as the voice continued singing quietly to themselves:

“Sonnez les matines Sonnez les matines Ding dang dong Ding dang…Oh! Hello Susato!”

Ryunosuke exclaimed: “P-Professor Mikotoba!”

Professor Yujin Mikotoba, dressed in his shirt sleeves and a clean white apron, stood over an examination table, wearing a pair of dark red rubber gloves that seemed to go all the way up towards his elbows.

“Oh hello…Mr. Naruhodo, wasn’t it? And I see you’ve brought a friend. Good afternoon, I am Dr. Yujin Mikotoba.” He bowed his head. “I would shake your hand but I’m currently scrubbed up at the moment.”

“Oh why thank you. My name’s Redford Ninate. I’m a writer, President of the Detection Club and, well, a murder suspect at the moment.”

“Ah, so you must be working Mr. Ninate’s case, Mr. Naruhodo?”

“That’s correct, Professor.”

“Well I happen to be working this case as well, but as the coroner, not the lawyer. Dr. Gulloyne is away at the moment and they managed to catch my boat before it left Calais for the Mediterranean to ask me to step in on her behalf.”

“Well Mr. Sholmes did say that the coroner working the case was one of the best in the world, father…” said Susato with a smile.

“Did he now? He always did try too hard to upsell me, especially in that matter involving ‘The Giant Rat of Sumatra’…”

“Sorry – ‘always did’?” asked Redford.

“Yes. I’m Sholmes’s old investigative partner. The real life ‘Dr. Wilson’ as it were, but that’s a far more complicated matter than I’d care to explain at present. Not for a while in the very least.”

Ryunosuke could tell from the way that Redford had his teeth gritted and the way that he had his fist wrapped around his pen that he was resisting the urge to ask a hundred thousand and one questions.

“You mentioned that you were the coroner working on this case, Father. But a police constable mentioned to Mr. Sholmes that the murder weapon was in your custody for the time being…?”

“Why yes, that’s right. That’s what I’m working on at the moment actually.”

Dr. Mikotoba stood to one side to show the yellowy-white skull sitting on his desk, a large dark red streak splattered across its surface from the unfortunate victim’s blood. Both Ryunosuke and Susato seemed rather taken-aback.

“So…this is…”

“Norman!” exclaimed Redford.

“Is that his name? To me, he looks more like a ‘Takumi’ more than a ‘Norman’.”

“Maybe that could be his full name. If or when I get out of this mess, I’ll need to propose that as a potential surname, doctor.”

“Well I’m glad to be of service in that regard,” said Professor Mikotoba with a smile. “As for a more professional opinion, I can confirm that this was used to inflict quite a few blows to the head of the victim. In fact I think in my entire time working as a trainee coroner-turned-amateur detective-turned-general practitioner-turned-biology professor-turned-professional coroner again that I’ve never seen a body quite…what's the English word for it again...?”

Professor Mikotoba tapped his feet in what appeared to be a small tap-dance routine before he flicked the top of his greying hair and pointed. “Mutilated! That’s the word. Mutilated. I’ve not seen a corpse as mutilated as this one before.”

“You’re telling me! When I saw a photograph that was taken of the crime scene, I truly thought I was going to die myself,” said Ryunosuke with a wince.

“I feel the same sometimes, but I find the smell of formaldehyde actually rather helps keep me focused. As does singing. I learned that song you heard me singing, ‘Frère Jacques’, from a French chap with a top hat, monocle and tuxedo on-board my boat last month. Horace Velmont, he said his name was. Rather annoyingly catchy, I must say…

“…By the way,” added the professor, “If you’re fighting for Mr. Ninate’s innocence in court tomorrow then I might have an ace for you to use up your sleeve. Well, two of them, actually.”

“Go on…” said Redford, notebook and pen already well-prepared in advance.

“The first is that the prosecution have requested my testimony tomorrow, in lieu of Detective Jones’s, you’ll be pleased to hear, seeing as I can tell already that you absolutely loath the man.”

“Wh-What?! How did you know that?” asked Ryunosuke.

“You mumbled ‘彼ではない…’ under your breath as soon as I mentioned his name. That means ‘Not him…’, by the way, Mr. Ninate. If you want I can write out the romaji form of it for you later on for your own records?”

“If you could, that would be appreciated, Dr. Mikotoba.”

“Happy to be of service. But yes, I’ll be testifying with regards to the autopsy report and the state that the victim’s body was found in. I unfortunately can’t say any more, because if the prosecutor found out I was talking to you like this alone he’d have me out of the country again before I could translate Mr. Ninate’s notes into Japanese and back again.”

“I see,” said Ryunosuke. “And what’s the second part?”

“The second is that I have a reason to believe that this skull, Takumi Norman-kun, it may not be the murder weapon that you or the police are looking for.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I’m not sure why I think that at the moment, so we’ll just call it a doctor’s intuition. But I am still yet to conduct the further tests required for me to be able to say that as a certainty. I’m sure I’ll have everything figured out in time for tomorrow morning though.”

“We’ll keep that in mind, Professor Mikotoba. But thank you very much for this information, I’m sure it’ll come in use at some point in court tomorrow.”

Professor Mikotoba bowed his head. “That is exactly what I’m here for, young Naruhodo. I’ll still be cheering you on though, don’t worry about that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must continue my work.”

“We’ll leave you to it then, father. But thank you very much for your assistance.”

“My pleasure, Susato. But just remember, it’s usually the most obvious facts that we end up missing at times. You should do well to remember that, the three of you.”

“Well Redford already has it written down, so I’m sure he can remember it for me if I forget it,” said Ryunosuke.

Professor Mikotoba smiled. “Alright, I shall see you in court tomorrow morning.”

——————————

As Susato had decided to stay behind for a moment, and Redford had decided to wander about asking more policemen more questions, Ryunosuke decided to wait for them in the lobby.

For a building such as Scotland Yard, it was a decidedly unimpressive lobby. A police constable on a high lectern-like desk continued to sift his way through paperwork. He was occasionally interrupted by police officers dragging in criminals to prepare them to be detained in a gaol cell or to meet with a prosecutor to discuss criminal charges.

Other than that, there were the occasional civilian visitors sitting in the lobby waiting their turn to make arrangements for bail or to visit those who had been remanded into police custody, or to provide evidence and statements to officers and detectives for all kinds of other cases.

As he read through the faded anti-crime slogans on the notice board, a young woman with short blonde hair walked in, wearing a long lilac-grey coloured dress and holding a thick leatherbound notebook underarm.

She approached the constable on the high lectern-desk and stood for a few moments, clearing her throat after the constable, too busy wondering whether it was an I or an E in the last part of “antidisestablishmentarianism,” failed to notice her.

“Oh, sorry miss. Er, can I take your name please for our visitor’s book?”

“Christina Agatha.”

“‘Christina Agatha’, lovely. Nice and easy enough one for me to spell.”

(It’s not my fault you can’t spell ‘Ryunosuke Naruhodo’ very well, constable—even though it’s spelt exactly as it sounds…Still…why does that name sound familiar to me…)

“Now then, Miss Agatha. How can I help you today?”

“I was wondering if it were possible to speak to Detective Athelney Jones about the Harris Thomas case?”

“I’d certainly say so—he shouldbe in his office at the moment, and his next meeting’s not for another while yet. Here, I’ll write you a visitor’s pass. Now where did I put that pen of mine…?”

After a minute or so, the constable had the lady’s pass written out and sent her on the way in the direction of the Criminal Investigations Department, Homicide Division. And after that, he didn’t really think much of the entire thing.

“Alright!” cried a Scottish voice. “Tha’s enough o’ that! Out with ye! Go on, git! Git!”

A particularly burly-looking Scottish detective practically threw Redford Ninate into the lobby. “But Detective Superintendent MacDonald—!”

“Ah dinnae care! Now git tha hell outta here befurr ah tayke ye intae custady!”

“Well next time I’m writing a police procedural, you certainly won’t get a good portrayal, you great big Scottish red-faced eegit.”

“Mr. Naruhodo, I think Redford has asked more than enough questions of the police for one day, don’t you agree?”

“Yes. I think now’d be a good time to get out—”

Before Ryunosuke could finish the rest of his sentence, D.S MacDonald threw Redford’s notebook in his face, as well as his pen, followed by a bottle of ink that he only just managed to catch, a wad of blank forms – much to the chagrin of the constable manning the desk – and a full mug of coffee that ended up decorating the wall beside the front door.

“Get out and stay out ya wee bawbag of a—!” roared MacDonald as Ryunosuke, Susato and Redford made their escape whilst the constable despaired over his misplaced paperwork.

[cuntbliss-blog]

Auckland City Limits 2018 review

I made a very last minute decision to buy a ticket for Auckland City Limits. I had enjoyed a windfall and felt a deep sense of FOMO. Within half an hour of gate’s opening, I purchased a ticket from the Ticketmaster Box Office in Aotea square.

Seeing new up and comer Jed Parsons who opened the festival was a real drawcard for me. Unfortunately public transport caused me to arrive a little late. But hearing the opening notes of his absolutely stellar ‘Get Lost’ seemed like a very good omen. I caught two more songs, and it appears as so this young lad is rapidly ascending to the mighty mantle of other local greats like Ruban Neilson. He has roots in the traditional formulas of rock and roll songwriting, mixed with funk and psychedelia but also inflects it with tasteful modern production. His recently formed band were solid, Parsons was a friendly, seemingly unpretentious and generous entertainer. I look forward to seeing more from him. 

I was astounded upon arrival and over the course of the festival as to what an ideal and world-class public venue Western Springs can be. Two main stages to the East at the entrance, a small Golden Dawn stage across the bridge alongside the lake and of course two ‘main stages’ inside the stadium/speedway itself. It meant that a punter never had to feel boxed in or claustrophobic and could still enjoy the music at a reasonable distance. Grass abounds, there are trees to find shade beneath, not to mention a natural body of water! It really is quite perfect and massively superior to Mt Smart Stadium. The food mostly came from very classy inner city eateries, but I had to save my money for beer, which given that it was 2.5% ABV I had to really throw them back. 

Second for me was Alien Weaponry. I see they’re gaining a lot of local attention and accolades and while I find the use of Te Reo lyrics in their music intriguing, I didn’t see the music itself as being much more than a fairly derivative mash-up of Thrash, commercial 90s metal and maybe the vaguest prog flourish. I also find overt political righteousness of any variety (no matter how well intended) in music to be irritating if not unnecessary. I understand they’re very young though, and it was difficult to fault their musical competency.

Next were Head Like a Hole a band who don’t exactly cater to my tastes but I’ve always had an unexpected fondness for. Rocking up on stage looking like a team of mechanics from Te Atatu (they could be for all I know, oops nah they’re Wellingtonians) frontman Booga Beazley is well versed in the theatrics of rock’n’roll buffoonery.  They have too much groove to be metal, but are a little too heavy to be lumped into the hard rock label of the early 70s. They really just carry themselves so well, seem so confident in what they do given how long they’ve been doing it. Their cover of ‘Immigrant Song’ was for me a highlight of the entire event. 

Next up I thought I’d check out the Golden Dawn stage across the bridge. Nicely secluded and shaded by trees, this relatively small stage still enjoyed good sound. So, thumbs up to the engineers involved. I saw Simon something or other. Restrained indie pop but very confidently delivered. Almost teetered on Slowdive-esque shoegaze at times, I thought. I wasn’t madly keen but it was resolutely competent.

By this stage I thought I’d consider giving Carseat Headrest another go. I can’t say I’ve been impressed by the recordings I’ve heard - I frankly can’t stand vocalists who mumble or murmur, unless they’re Kevin Shields. I find the overtly jammy song structures uninventive and a bit tedious, frankly. With the large band set up, two drummers, and aforementioned jamminess, they remind me superficially of Pavement. But Pavement they are not. Although the knotty segues in their songs can make it difficult to predict where a song begins and ends, the progressions tend to be formulaic, albeit drawn out, just with the unexpected, appended additions to structure. These songs generally erupted into ‘whoa whoa whoa whoa yeah, tonight we are young esque’ call and response sing alongs. I know the guy writes heaps of lyrics and I always respect that, but frankly I couldn’t really hear them. Yeah kinda fuck this band tbh.

Next, between two of my frequent panic attacks, over-exposure to the sun and the proper ABV beer I enjoyed at the Golden Dawn stage, I retired into the shadows of the hills, regrettably missing most of Thundercat’s I was assured (and I am sure) excellent set. 

Next up were the Libertines. Who were poised to be a highlight for me. I really enjoy their first album especially. There he was - Pete Doherty. Looking surprisingly healthy. Or maybe it was the make up from a distance. The only two people I bumped into and knew during the entire festival are about 21 and both wrote it off as ‘old guy stuff’ within a few songs. Yikes. I’m only about 5 years younger than them. They reminded me heavily of the Clash in terms of their sing shouty choruses, vague 1950s rockabilly/early rock’n’roll rhythmic undertow and general vocal style. The rhythm section might secretly be the best part of this band - the bassist showing effortless dexterity and the drummer incorporating vaguely Afro-beats at times. Something just wasn’t right. It didn’t help that Doherty’s guitar was out of tune for the first few songs, but something just felt off. Like it has just become a job for these guys. The Libertines are creative songwriters but their stage-show felt underwhelming for me, fostering cheesy showmanship that seemed to compensate for substance.

What happened next? Fuck. Not sure. Was pretty drunk and stoned at this point and freaking out again. I saw the D4. Whyyyyyyyyyy. Ok I’m being a total dick, the D4 play with impressive energy and proficiency but their songs just don’t do it for me. ‘Get up and get out and get loose?’ No thanks, I think I’ll just do the getting loose part then curl up like the neurotic sociopath I truly am. 

The Avalanches I was somewhat looking forward to. Because of that ‘Boy Needs Therapy’ song. Well. I genuinely didn’t realize they were a band. I thought they were electronic. Avalanches was very 50/50 for me personally. Whoever took charge of sound wasn’t doing a great job - too much bass, too little vocals. I didn’t really enjoy the bunch of really obvious songs they sampled into the music. At some point during the late 90s people discovered computers and DAWS and samples and decided that inserting great music into electronic tapestries was tantamount to genius. I’ve never quite understood this. Avalanches were still enjoyable, but I can’t say I loved it. 

Then I started freaking out again and walked back to the Golden Dawn area. The most violent, obnoxious, obstreperous bass I have ever fell victim to seemed to penetrate the entire complex. The trees were trembling, man. Must have been some hip hop guy. How can they even sing over that shit? What is it with you humans and excessive bass? I hate it. 

So then I got my shit together (popped some sedatives, had some more low alcohol beer) and prepared myself for Grace Jones. I’m not a Grace Jones fan in any huge way, but the second she graced (hah) the stage in an outrageous space-age costume replete with golden helmet and red laser beam eyes, her voice, her charisma, her band and her sheer sound production out shined everything which came before (and after). I was a bit far back cuz I’m a nervous freak but someone I know claimed she changed costume (11!) times. But I must not begin to let this sound like it was all about the stage show (which was dazzling, inventive and spectacular). Graces’ breed of mutant post-funk disco is at once entirely artificial and yet somehow primordial, spiritual even. Her voice is commanding, rich, full and doesn’t even have the vaguest shred of elderliness to my ears. ‘Do you feel the life’ Grace asked the audience ‘I love my life was her response.’ I’ll bet she does. What a fucking lady. Every younger band at that concert could take an encyclopaedia  of knowledge and wisdom from the glorious uniqueness and pure charisma that is Grace Jones.

Then I saw Beck. Fuckkkkkk. Beck was 50% of the reason I came to this fucking gig. Beck’s set was A) too quiet B) lacking energy, conviction, enthusiasm C) too top heavy with his more recent stuff which is frankly barely distinguishable top 40 tripe and D) well I’m a cunt. Anyhow. I’m being overly negative. Perhaps Grace simply set the bar too high and I was getting too sedated. There were some highlights. For some reason the Chimpmunk funk of ‘Mixed Bizness’ from Midnite Vultures turned out to be an unexpected highlight for me. We also got to hear Devil’s Haircut and Loser. Yeah they were good. But I dunno. Amidst the awkward attempt to get people to sing along to ‘Raspberry Beret’ and the massive screen projection of him, I sensed the vague whiff of scientology in all its epic soul destroying creepiness. I left early.

But I had fun. Seriously. Auckland City Limits is fucking awesome. Make sure you go next time.

[renaroo]

Twisted Legacy (13/25)

Disclaimer: Transformers and related properties belong to Hasbro Warnings: Canon-typical language and violence, Psychological torture and horror, Post-war politics, Canon divergence/Loose canon, Hospitalization and illness, Cultist indoctrination Rating: T Synopsis: [Canon Divergence from MTMTE and exRID #54] The legacy of the Primes has had a tainted past, one that weighs heavily on Optimus, his supporters, and those who seek the legacy for the future. But as they look forward for themselves and for Cybertron, a darkness looms that threatens to further corrupt the unsteady peace of their planet with its curious claim to be the Hand of Primus himself.

It’s up to Optimus, Windblade, Rodimus, and their teams to try and save all Cybertronians from this mysterious threat and, perhaps, change the future for the better if they can.

A/N: Annnnnnd time for stuff to hit the fan : ) ) ) )

Special thanks to Isame, @secretlystephaniebrown and squiggol for the feedback! I really appreciate it!

Part III: The Risk of Saving the Guilty Chapter 3.3: Speaking with Guilt

Windblade should have been relieved to have been ‘escorted’ by Starscream’s personal guard to his private chambers rather than the detention center. Should have been. But she was far from it. 

She did not exactly take kindly to being put in handcuffs while in public. 

“Stascream!” she spat out the moment she saw him over by the balcony. He didn’t even have the decency to be turned to face her. “What he Pit is the meaning of this? You had me arrested! And you did so while I was in public! I never took you for such transparent dictatorship.”

“You’ve never paid that much attention then,” Stascream said flatly, half turning toward her. With a nod, he sent the guards away. 

“You think this is all fun and games?” Windblade all but snarled, uselessly testing the restraints for what she already knew would happen. A slight shock tested her system and she flinched back despite herself.

“I do not,” Starscream said, fully tuning toward her and walking closer. “That is why, the moment Knock Out confirms that the stasis and medically induced coma are simply a ploy, I will have your partner in this conspiracy of betrayal arrested along with you.”

Positively confused, Windblade tilted her helm back. A slightly irrational fear took over her for all of her friends. “What are you talking about, Starscream?” she demanded. “Have you absolutely fried your circuits? What conspiracy? What betrayal?”

His optics narrowed to red, intimidating slits. “You can’t play dumb with me, Windblade. I know about the cult. I know about you and Rodimus working for Error.”

At that, Windblade had to actually cycle her optics. She had not been sure what Starscream had meant before, but she certainly had not expected the complete nonsense she got. 

“Excuse me... what?” she asked, baffled.

"You heard me, Windblade,” Starscream said the utmost seriousness. “I know that you are involved with the cult. I know that Rodimus is faking his injuries. And I know that all of this is somehow to undermine my rule of Cybertron. Entrapment perhaps? How clever. Unfortunately for you, I learned of your deceit and can act first.”

She stared at him, still processing all the accusations flung her way before she reached up and rubbed the side of her faceplate as best she could with the handcuffs. 

“I’m sorry, what?” she repeated. “Starscream, I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about? What evidence do you have of... any of this?”

“A live witness, despite your leader’s greatest efforts to keep him from being that way,” Starscream said smoothly. “I suppose your conscience got to you in the last minute. A pity. I genuinely was not onto either of you until you made that misstep of trusting Rattrap to keep your secret, Windblade. Maybe you thought you could earn his trust, get him on whatever twisted side Error has concocted to entice you into the cult.” He smirked at her knowingly. “I never had to concern myself with such things, neither trusting anyone else so much nor worrying about a conscience. Well... for the most part. Until recently.”

Windblade stared at him like he was mad -- and, perhaps, he was. 

“Starscream, I am not working with Error or the cult,” Windblade said firmly. “And if you believe I am on Rattrap’s word, then you are trusting someone and it is making you out to be the fool. I am sorry to tell you.”

“You think you’re so clever,” Starscream snapped. “The problem is, Cityspeaker, that the reason you have to be so nosy is because while you’re playing the game, you’ve never once managed to get out ahead.”

“I don’t think I’m clever,” Windblade admitted before motioning toward the hall door. “But I think it doesn’t take a clever person to know that there is no faking what Rodimus’ injuries or stasis are. And Rattrap’s going to have you look like an idiot in front of everyone in this building the moment Knock Out comes up here and tells you that himself.”

"Rattrap knows better than to speak falsely to me,” Starscream said without concern. 

“You two are certainly a pair,” Windblade grouched when the doors opened behind her and in came Knock Out and Rattrap themselves. 

“We should be getting a second opinion here! From someone who’s obviously not biased!” Rattrap was crying out hysterically.

Windblade could not help the smile that formed on her faceplate as she glanced toward Starscream and saw his own confidence melt from him. 

“Bias?” Knock Out scoffed. “I have no bias -- I could care less about the internal affairs of Cybertron. I owe nothing to these bots. That is why Lord Starscream asked for my opinion to begin with.”

Starscream leered at them. “What is going on here?” he demanded. 

“I’m afraid we’ve been duped, Chosen One,” Knock Out said wryly. “There is absolutely no doubt in my processor that the patient there is in stasis and, beyond that, with the extent of the injuries and the incapacity of his proto-healing, there is no way he has left that chamber in at least the last forty-eight hours.”

There was an immediate rage that radiated from Starscream. Windblade could not help the satisfaction she somewhat felt at it.

“Don’t believe a word of it, Lord Starscream!” Rattrap cried out. “I saw it with my own optics -- look at the singe on my armor!!! And everyone knows that Rodimus has that outlier ability -- with the flames? It’s the cult’s main way of attack.”

Her attention to detail not failing her, Windblade honed in on the information about Rodimus and looked at Rattrap with scrutiny. “Outlier ability--”

Without warning, the power to the restraints on Windblade were cut and she looked back to Starscream with surprise. 

“Delegates,” he said firmly, “I will have to ask you to leave my chambers. I need to deal with a personal matter with my good friend here.”

Windblade and Knock Out glanced toward each other before following suit, to the crying objections of Rattrap.

They had waited for Swerve to all but clear out the bar for them -- a favor in mutual understanding and debt to Skids. 

Their gathering was small, but most importantly it was away from prying optics and audials. 

“Okay, Brainstorm, spill what you know,” Nautica demanded, hands on her hips. “We’ve been placating your amnesiac answers since we got to Cybertron. We’re your Amicas. We deserve the truth. We deserve to be able to help you.”

Brainstorm had suspected it would come to this rather quickly. Still, he hadn’t expected it to quite be that quickly. He was cornered by Velocity and Nautica with no escape routes and not even a Swerve to pry.

Camiens didn’t know how to play fair.

“What makes you think I wasn’t telling you everything from the start?” Brainstorm asked, tilting his helm.

“Because you keep bringing up your stupid briefcase,” Velocity said, arms crossed.

“Because I know you,” Nautica argued even more directly. 

Not coming up with any proper responses to that, Brainstorm rubbed his servos together nervously. “Look, I really don’t remember much. And why I’ve got briefcases on the mind? It could mean literally anything -- I always have my greatest invention, and greatest failure and mistake -- on my processor. You don’t spend years constructing a perfect plan to save the mech you loved and every other bot ever taken from us as a species because of the War without having it take up a decent portion of your consciousness.”

“And that’s your big explanation?” Nautica asked critically. 

“No, I’m just saying that whatever happened on Eukaris, everyone else’s injuries were heavy, if they survived at all,” Brainstorm rubbed at the cables of his neck. “I’m kinda grateful to just be jumbled in my head.”

“More like suspiciously avoided,” Velocity argued. “Whoever attacked the others didn’t care to kill them or maim them. But for some reason you were spared. And that has to be for a reason.”

“But what reason?” Nautica asked, bringing a hand to her chin. 

“If I could propose something,” Nightbeat finally spoke up from his seat nearby, he had been pouring four energon cubes for them all and then brought them over. “We have to take into account that while a genius weapons inventor--”

Brainstorm puffed up at the compliment. “Why thank you--”

“Brainstorm’s been proven useless in combat. So there is always the possibility that he was seen as non-threatening to these attackers,” Nightbeat continued.

Affronted, Brainstorm crossed his arms. “Well, that’s not completely fair--”

Nightbeat then steepled his fingers before his face and turned to face all of them at once. “But it wouldn’t explain the prominence of your briefcase in your thoughts since the incident. That seems to indicate some sort of representative associative memory.”

Nautica tilted her helm. “Meaning?”

“Either the briefcase symbolizes something Brainstorm’s subconscious is trying to tell him, or it is exactly what it’s meant to be, and he’s got some sort of clue in there as to what really happened down on Eukaris,” Nightbeat surmised. 

“Those are two very different possibilities,” Velocity said calmly. “How are we supposed to figure out which one it is?” 

“Finding clues isn’t always so simple when you’re looking at the bigger picture,” Nightbeat shrugged. 

“So, what, you want me to get psychoanalysis?” Brainstorm asked. “No thanks. I find it to be a pseudoscience. Unless it’s Rung. I’ll talk to Rung.”

“We left Rung on Cybertron, remember?” Nautica sighed, crossing her arms. “I wish I could talk to him right now. He always knows the right thing to say, and is so kind and gentle. And always has energon sticks--”

“You realize he’s all of those things because he is a trained doctor, of course,” Nightbeat partially teased. “But you’re right. It is a shame we don’t have access to Rung at the moment. But... there are more simple ways. Maybe Chromedome--”

“Absolutely not,” Brainstorm snapped, surprising everyone. Taking a deep vent, Brainstorm pinched between his optics and shook his head. “Look, I worked at the Institute. I’ve been friends with Chromedome since before he was named Chromedome. He doesn’t perform mnemosurgery anymore, doesn’t even have his needles. And even if he did, it kills him bit by bit. I would never ask him to do that again. Especially not for me.” He then pointed to his helm. “Also, no one has permission to scramble this genius.”

"Sorry,” Nightbeat apologized almost immediately. “I was getting carried away. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Brainstorm agreed readily. 

“I don’t disagree with the idea of never volunteering mnemosurgery again under any circumstances,” Velocity spoke up, “but we really do need you to try to remember anything that could be helpful, Brainstorm. We’re wanting to help. Not just the others and the investigation, but you. It’s... not normal seeing you have such a lack of curiosity about something. Especially something that happened to you.”

Brainstorm couldn’t argue with that. 

But he also couldn’t explain why he feared trying to remember. 

Except...

He lowered his head and rubbed achingly at his helm. “I think the reason I was uninjured had to do with the briefcase. I don’t think it was an accident.”

“Yes!” Nightbeat called out excitedly, only to get shushed by the glares of the Camiens. 

“But I really can’t dig further than that,” Brainstorm explained. “The only thing that comes to mind is...”

“Is what, Brainstorm?” Nautica asked gently, gripping his shoulder. 

He looked up at them. 

“Burning,” he replied. “Burning alive. Screaming. That’s all there is other than.... briefcases.”

If Ratchet could have ever before been described as fighting mad, it wouldn’t hold a light to the rage surging through his cables after the nonsense double checking of Rodimus’ CR chamber. 

As if Rodimus’ spark hadn’t nearly gone out on them multiple times beforehand, as if Ratchet and every other scientist and doctor weren’t enough to determine whether or not a bot  on the brink of extinguishment was faking or not. 

Ratchet’s grip on the control panel to the CR chamber nearly dented the metal. “Unthinking, incapable Starscream cronies!” he hissed, not caring in the least that at least two guards were still standing by the doors. “Look at the mess of the systems they made! And Knock Out! I’ll have his license expunged, he’ll never work as a doctor on this planet so help me--”

“You shouldn’t have let them touch him!” Drift shouted at Ratchet angrily, hovering so close to Ratchet that the old doctor could practically feel him venting hot air. 

“How the frag was I supposed to stop them, Drift?” Ratchet demanded. “Pull out guns against them? Set up a coup?”

“I would have sliced down anyone who tried to get to either of you,” Drift responded coldly. “You held me back--”

“You’re full of scrap, now pipe up your vocalizer so I can restabilize Rodimus’ stasis before he fully comes out of it!” Ratchet bit back, watching the percentages of the various chemicals within the bath slowly recalibrate. “Come on, he’s been out of the cryogen too long!”

Drift somehow managed to hover even closer. “What can I do? Are there supplies you need from anywhere I can get?”

“You know what you can do? You can go sit your aft down and let me work!” Ratchet snapped just before Rodimus’ vitals began to start up at an alarming rate, the waves detected from his processor spiking. “Frag it! Rodimus, don’t do this yet--”

“What’s happening!?” Drift demanded. 

"He’s waking up!” Ratchet snapped back before looking, optics wide, toward the glass of the CR chamber. 

There was noticeable twitching as the cables along Rodimus’ protoform attempted to activate limbs and armor that wasn’t quite there yet. His forcefully peaceful face squinted together, nose curling before his jaw opened. 

His optics were still offline, but Rodimus was trying to speak. If him waking early from stasis wasn’t such a terrible thing in his current state, Ratchet could almost make a joke of it. 

The handprint that was burned across Rodimus’ faceplate and exposed the intricate metalwork and mesh beneath was disturbed by his immediate attempts to talk, and his jaw slackened and gave on that side that was still exposed. 

Choking on the cryogen and chemicals around him, Rodimus thrashed. His optics flashed on at once and he swung wildly against the various wires and restraints that had been placed there to keep him from a moment just like this. 

Drift finally left Ratchet’s backside to near the glass and hold up his hands in a soothing motion. “Rodimus, calm down! We’ll put you back in stasis, just cool it for a second. I know it hurts and it’s confusing--”

Ratchet assessed the spiking vitals and growled before submitting to the only thing to do, throwing the switch for the CR cahmber and beginning the drain of the liquids out of it, after they had spent all that time attempting to refill it. 

At first, Drift seemed shocked and confused as the liquid began to visibly drain from the chamber, then he turned and looked at Ratchet. “What are you doing!? You said he needs to go back in stasis--”

“It’s not going to work with him having a panic attack, we need to calm him down first before he gives himself a spark attack,” Ratchet answered, pressing the final termination sequence before rushing to Drift’s side and waiting for the door of the pod to open. 

The moment the glass was no longer restraining him, Rodimus let out a gulping vent and fell forward into Drift and Ratchet’s awaiting arms. He sputtered and coughed, straining to balance on his pedes beneath him but they were still underarmored and unblanced. He could barely find purchase against the slick floor of the laboratory. 

“I-I -- what!? Where!?” Rodimus cried out, spurring the guards to step closer from the door.

Ratchet freed one of his hands to hold up a finger and shake it at the guards. “You step one bit closer and I’m going to unleash Drift on you. You know. The one who’s been chomping at the bit for a fight for a week now?” he warned angrily. 

The guards looked at each other before stepping back into place. 

Relieved somewhat that it had worked, Ratchet vented then turned his attention back on Rodimus.

Drift was trying, with great difficulty, to soothe the captain. “Rodimus, you’re safe. We’re no longer on Eukaris -- Ratchet and I came back for your team. We got you. You’re still being patched up.”

“Me!?” Rodimus cried out. “Th-the crew!”

He took another step without realizing the pede no longer had a stabilizer beneath the wheel. It flung him back and while his left arm flailed against Drift to stop himself from completely falling into it, Ratchet took immediate notice how his right limb hung limply by his side. 

Biting back on his words, Ratchet tried not to alarm either Rodimus or Drift before he could get a full assessment of the limb. His processor immediately came up with a list of differentials for what could be causing the paralysis of the limb.

Maybe the others had been right, maybe Ratchet had been holding off on full surgical repair too long in hopes of the protoform reassembling what it could. 

Ratchet hoped not. It was hard to deny it now.

“Scrap,” he muttered under a vent. Drift was holding Rodimus up almost entirely on his own and looking to Ratchet worriedly. Ratchet snapped a finger toward the nearby slab. “Help get him to sit up on it if he can.”

"You don’t understand!” Rodimus cried out nonsensically as Drift managed with almost too much ease to lift him up and set him on the table. Rodimus struggled, but with little frame and only one arm cooperating, it didn’t get him much. “I’m dead! The crew--”

“You’re not dead, Rodimus, calm down,” Ratchet ordered, coming over to his side. “And... not all the away team with you died. We lost two, but the rest have been repaired, awakened, and Brainstorm’s even back on the Lost Light by now as we speak. Not that we’ve got many answers--”

Rodimus’ left hand reached up to his face, almost knowingly. “I’m supposed to be dead!” he said, tenderly touching the handprint melted into his faceplate on the right side. 

Ratchet stared at Rodimus, processing the information.

Drift, though, wasted no time on Rodimus’ seemingly random actions and inactions. He gripped onto Rodimus tighter, keeping him upright. “You’re not, Rodimus! By the Thirteen, you survived! Optimus Prime himself boosted your spark at least twice--”

That seemed to cause at least something to click with Rodimus and the mech steadied. His optics flickered up toward Ratchet and to him it seemed almost as if there was something haunting the captain’s blue lights. 

“Ratchet,” he all but gasped, “I n-need to talk to Optimus. I-I have to tell him!”

Composing himself, Ratchet held up his hands. “You’re in no condition for anything. We’re putting you back in stasis as soon as you get your bearings. I’ll knock you out myself if you don’t take a moment to vent.”

“You don’t understand!” Rodimus shouted, vocalizer cracking.

“Rodimus, calm down,” Drift tried more softly, but Rodimus didn’t even look his way. 

“I’ll send word to Optimus that as soon as he’s back on-world he needs to talk to you,” Ratchet tried to assure him. “Until then, we’re going to have a lot of procedures we have to do on you.”

At first it didn’t seem as though nay of Ratchet’s words were making an impact on Rodimus. He stared nearly through them, optics shifting without concentration for a moment before he jerked away from Drift’s hold to no avail again.

“Th-then lock me up! Get... I need to be stopped!” Rodimus near yelled, reaching with his left hand again to cradle his head. “I have to be put away! I’m dangerous, I can’t-- I can’t control--”

“Stop talking,” Ratchet ordered.

“You’re not making any sense, Rodimus -- you’re damaged, but Ratchet’s going to fix you,” Drift attempted to soothe.

“Don’t you get it!?” Rodimus cried out. “I don’t deserve fixing! I’m... I killed them! It was me!”

Ratchet bit back on his denta. “Rodimus, calm down, you’re talking nonsense--”

“That’s not how I hear it.”

Swearing with every foul word he could pull from his processor, Ratchet turned toward the door and saw not only Starscream, but at least four of the so-called delegates by him, including a very shocked looking Windblade who looked nearly ready to tip forward and pass out from the exclamation from Rodimus. 

Starscream continued walking forward. “You heard it yourself, Council of Worlds. And without any further objections, I want to place delegate Windblade under arrest once again along with Captain Rodimus of the Lost Light.”

To Ratchet’s horror, Rodimus almost seemed to ease up in relief. 

Drift was the opposite, stepping between the approaching guards and Rodimus with his swords drawn. “Not another step--”

“Drift!” Ratchet tried to snap. 

“Really now?” Starscream sighed before snapping his fingers. “Someone arrest anyone else who tries to resist as well. I won’t make any exceptions when it comes to protecting the safety of Cybertron and this coalition. These horrific crimes on Eukaris will be answered for.”

Windblade hardly resisted, still looking to be somewhat in shock as she was grabbed by the nearest guard. The other delegates looked simply mortified by everything that was going on but also seemed fairly determined to be on Starscream’s side in the matter.

Drift narrowed his optics and raised his sword as the soldiers neared, guns drawn, but Ratchet lunged at Drift and forcefully lowered his arms. 

“Are your wires crossed?” Ratchet demanded.

“Are yours?” Drift snapped in retaliation.

Lowering his voice, Ratchet lowered Drift’s swords further. “Frag it, Drift. Surrender willingly that way we can at least have you keep an eye on Rodimus in prison and make sure nothing shady happens there. I’ll work from up here to get myself and First Aid access so we can perform medical procedures -- Starscream can’t have a bot kept in inhumane conditions let alone put on trial--”

“There won’t be any trial!” Drift snapped.

“We can’t stop one until Prime’s here, now surrender!” Ratchet snapped. 

Angrily, Drift finally listened to logic and threw his swords to the ground, allowing the soldiers to swarm him. “You better be right, Ratchet.”

“I know,” Ratchet muttered, mostly to himself as he locked optics with Starscream. “I know.”

[tanmath3-blog]

Eric A. Shelman is amazing. Not only is he an amazing writer he can sing too. If you haven’t heard him sing check out his YouTube channel. You don’t want to miss it. He has a great sense of humor and an awesome personality. He loves his wife more than anything in the world. You should hear him talk about her it will make you smile. His writing will have you turning pages fast as you can and holding your breath. I highly recommend you reading his books you will love them. His characters are well-developed and the story line solid and flows well. If you haven’t met him you are missing out on a great man, writer and friend. Please welcome Eric A. Shelman to Roadie Notes…..

    1. How old were you when you first wrote your first story?

I had to be 18 or 19 – I had moved to Dana Point, California, into my first apartment on Silver Lantern street. I had a HUGE group of good partying friends, with it being 1978/79, and wrote a story that included all of them called “Joe Toast in Outer Space.”

Joe Toast was what I’d call myself (and my friends called themselves) when we got a little … let’s say, “blitzed.” Somebody’d come up to me at a party and say, “Hey, man, how you doin’?” and I’d say, “Man, I’m Joe Toast.” Meaning … I was “toasted.”

BUT that said, I also wrote poetry when I was a kid – even got a poem about a departing teacher, Mrs. Dunaway, in the newspaper. Some shit about the golden rule, etc. I later wrote a poem called “Bird Talk” that I thought was pretty good – a teacher asked me where I copied it from, not believing I wrote it. Man, that hit me hard. So, that’s about it. I wrote Bird Talk, probably when I was 8 or 9.

2. How many books have you written?

I’m at 18 right now, but am working on #19. 15-1/2 of those books were written since 2010. I had a 12-year gap in my writing, where I just gave it up completely. I blame a cruel, harsh critique group – but they weren’t really that. They helped me a LOT.

3. Anything you won’t write about?

I love horror, so I tend to go that route. I think of something that scares me, and try to approach it from a different direction. I don’t think I’d ever do romance – but I might try erotica under a pen name. I can get as sexy/raunchy/intimate as the next guy. Just never have. I have a lot of stories from my personal life that would make good drama, but not anything I think I’d want to share, and unfortunately, the people in my life would know the story – and they wouldn’t appreciate it.

4. Tell me about you. Age (if you don’t mind answering), married, kids, do you have another job etc…

I’m turning 57 this year, which is just freakin’ baffling to me. I mean, I remember being in my late teens and twenties, never EVER believing I’d live to see 30, much less 40 or 50+. That’s because I was a big partier back in the 70s. I partook in pretty much every recreational drug that didn’t require a needle (never, EVER would I jab a needle in my arm) and I’d wager a guess that when I was young, NONE of my friends would’ve ever predicted I’d become an author and tell stories of zombies, aliens and serial killers.

I’m married for 30 years to my wife, Linda, but we’ve been together since 1983. That’s 34 years together. We live in Cape Coral, Florida, and currently do not have any dogs – but we always have. Greyhounds, Whippets, Chihuahuas, Shelties, etc. We almost seem ready for a new rescue dog.

For my other job(s), I’m an audiobook narrator, and have done work for James Dean, Mike Evans, Thomas A. Watson, Comet Press, David A. Simpson, Dana E. Donovan, and others. I also narrate all of my own novels. I’m also an active real estate broker, and also work in Internet marketing/direct sales.

5. What’s your favorite book you have written?

It’s hard to say, but Shifting Fears is my favorite story. There are some cool intricacies I really like about the story, and those (few) who have read it also love it. Dead Hunger is what put me on the map, which ended at 9 books and a novella. My favorite couple would definitely be Flex and Gem of Dead Hunger.

I really like The Camera: Bloodthirst – it’s a funny/gory story, along the lines of “Reanimator.”

6. Who or what inspired you to write?

Well, despite the fact that I’ve been writing since I was just a young tike, my writing really ramped up when my late brother, Gary, came home sometime in the 1990s and shared a story he’d written. It was a fiction story called “The Gift,” and he was working on another about his life in Juvenile detention called “State Boy.” That inspired me to begin writing short stories. After pounding out 20 of them, I finally decided to write a book. In 1999, Out of the Darkness: The Story of Mary Ellen Wilson was released. That’s what gave me the permanent writing BUG.

7. What do you like to do for fun?

Well, you KNOW I love to sing, so I have over 400 videos on YouTube of me doing just that – yes, to Karaoke tracks. I don’t have a goddamned band, so what am I to do? Plus, Karaoke musicians don’t get drunk and mess up the tune while I’m singing. Sometimes I get drunk and mess it up, though. I also paint stuff occasionally, and I do sing part-time with a band named Shady Deal. Linda and I like to go camping, love to read and listen to tunes. I recommend some Friday or Saturday night, while you’re just mellowing out, to fire up Pandora and create a music station called Melody Gardot radio. You’ll DIG the vibes of that artist, as well as those similar to her. It’s a groooooooooveeeee.

8. Any traditions you do when you finish a book?

Not really – just fret about how to promote it so it doesn’t die on the vine, and begin thinking about my next book or my next audiobook narration.

9. Where do you write? Quiet or music?

Mostly quiet, in my office. I used to listen to rock guitar gods or classical music, but not so much anymore. Not sure why!?

10. Anything you would change about your writing?

If I had the time for the pause, I might seek out a large publisher – not an indy, because I don’t really feel in my bones that they can do as much for me as I would – I often check out their authors’ books to see how they’re selling, and normally, mine are better than theirs. I don’t need to trade this for worse – I’d like to really get with a house that could … you know, make me FAMOUS. (Because RICH usually goes with that.) And we’d all like to be rich, no matter what we say on Facebook.

11. What is your dream? Famous writer?

Hell yes. I’d love to be known as a writer whose stuff you’ll buy just because HE wrote it. And to be happy and healthy as I roll my way towards death.

12. Where do you live?

Paradise, baby. Paradise. Cape Coral, Florida. As I write this, it’s February 8, 2017, and 80 degrees with sun outside. That’s why we live here. We moved here from southern California in 2001. We were there over 30 years, but before that, I was born and raised in Texas.

13. Pets?

Not presently – we’re DOG people.

14. What’s your favorite thing about writing?

The entertainment factor – knowing that you wrote something that people can use to take them away from their daily grind. There is one woman – a fan of mine – whose daughter was killed. She was devastated, and started reading Dead Hunger. She has told me so many times how that book series allowed her to escape her pain while she read it. That is the best feeling. Just the best.

15. What is coming next for you?

Either The Camera II, or a new zombie series. I’ve got some ideas I’ve got to flesh out. I’ve had starts and stops on new zombie series ideas – and then I keep wondering if it’s almost spent! Looking at Tufo’s sales, I have to say it’s not, but then again – maybe that’s just for him! I’ll be working on something else within 30 days of completing Scabs III. I will probably release the entire Scabs Trilogy in ONE book, which will be close to 1000 pages.

  Anything else you would like me to include please feel free to tell me!

Methinks I hate Shakespeare, and I abhor the classics, like the very boring Moby Dick and others. I’m not into “literary” fiction, besides Watership Down, Flowers for Algernon, and some other greats. Give me a fantastic Dean Koontz or Stephen King book – or Ken Follett or Clive Cussler, for that matter. Then … I’m happy.

You can connect with Eric A. Shelman here:

Twitter: AuthorShelman Skype: Shelman9 Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/createyourfate Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/authorshelman Website: http://www.ericshelman.com My products site: http://the-twisted-products-of-author-eric-a-shelman.myshopify.com/ My books on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Eric-A-Shelman/e/B001K91I2Y/

  Some of Eric A. Shelman’s books: 

    Getting personal with Eric A. Shelman Eric A. Shelman is amazing. Not only is he an amazing writer he can sing too. If you haven't heard him sing check out his YouTube channel.

[concertcollector-blog]

“Part Two” by Chase Atlantic (Review)

With fans still recovering from “Part One”, Chase Atlantic fueled their ongoing fire with the release of “Part Two”, the second EP of what I’m assuming to be their take on an electrifying musical saga.

The EP was released on March 31st, 2017, and I was very eager to hear it. Although I myself am a relatively new fan of Chase Atlantic’s music, “Part One” completely blew me out of the water: compared to their older stuff, it was a major step forward in terms of their lyrics, musical production, and style. My only hope for "Part Two” was that it would be similar to its counterpart, if not better.

After finally sitting down and listening to the new EP, I had some mixed feelings about it. Although I was pleased regardless, because I like this band a lot, I’m not quite certain whether this one shook me as hard as “Part One” did.

Let’s break it down song by song, shall we?

Track 1 - Triggered. 

My very first impression of this song was a quick snort through the nose. Not going to lie, the title made me chuckle. I wasn’t sure if the band was genuinely pissed off about something, or they were just making fun of Twitter users’ lingo. Either way, I was interested to see where this opening track would lead to. 

Personally, I’m a sucker for dramatic album introductions. And this song had just the right amount of mystery, lust, and grunge to immediately draw me in. 

The song started out with a relatively chill introduction, but the first 10 seconds definitely built up. It was quiet at first, but as soon as I heard the car revving its engine in the background, I knew I was in for a bumpy ride.

Immediately after the car sounds, I was hit with lead singer Mitchel Cave’s distinctive voice and a brand new beat.

If I was to describe this song in one word, I would use the term badass (or is that two words?). There was something about the heavy bass, deep rhythm, and the slickness in Cave’s voice that immediately painted a dauntless picture in my mind. I imagined myself thrown into the middle of a high-speed police chase after my hot boyfriend and I just robbed a convenience store. He would be driving a black SUV with tinted windows, I would be perched up in the passenger seat, and Triggered would be our get away song.

Although the chorus could’ve been fuller in my opinion, the verses and the bridge of this song were what really brought it to life for me. Lyrics like “driving ‘till we killing love” and the repetitive use of the phrase “won’t slow down” strengthened my inner feelings of love and rebellion as I bopped my head to this song’s steady beat. 

The lyrics and overall theme of the song helped me realize that perhaps the meaning of “triggered” was not a reference to overused internet slang, but maybe it was referring to the shotgun my hot boyfriend was firing as we swerved on the 405, desperately trying to get away from the cops. Once again, the visuals that this song brought to life were killer (haha - see what I did there?).

In conclusion, the more I’ve listened to this song, the more I’ve come to really like it. From the lyrics, to the melodies, and to the delinquent realm it creates, Triggered is definitely my favorite tune on this EP. 

Overall rating: 9.4/10

Track 2 - Cassie.

This song, unfortunately, did not woo me as much as its preceding track. 

First off, what I appreciated about the song was how unique it was. In my opinion, this song was the complete opposite of Triggered, and very different from what I’ve been associating with Chase Atlantic’s more recent music. Coming right out of the sinister world of Triggered, Cassie was like a breath of fresh air and a field of blooming sunflowers right in front of me. 

The general vibe of this song was very easy to pick up on within the first lines of the first verse. The light and airy beat that continued throughout the entire song reminded me of a symphony imitating the gentle ticks of a clocktower. It made my heart, still calming down from Triggered, feel all warm and fuzzy again. 

Another thing I appreciated about this song was how the lyrics and the music contradicted one another. A bubbly melody is a rarity among Chase Atlantic’s newer releases, but somehow they managed to pair the uplifting beat with lyrics about drugged up veins and an impatient girl named Cassie in a way that actually worked quite well.  

However, the unique airiness of this song just didn’t seem to completely win me over, though I did appreciate it. The main reason why this song did not particularly knock my socks off is because throughout the whole first listen, I kept feeling as if something was missing. Especially in the chorus, I felt like there could’ve been something else - a tempo change, another instrumental element, faster lyrics - to make it more exciting. Although the song was cute and a little brighter than the other two tracks, it was kind of forgettable. 

Overall rating: 7.8/10

Track 3 - Why Stop Now.

This track has become known to me as the cool-down song, because I found it to be very chill and relaxed, but nonetheless a very interesting listen.

The introduction features a few intriguing elements that quickly brought me to the edge of my seat: more undistinguishable sound effects (were they popping pills?), the lazy strum of an electric guitar, and Cave’s muffled voice singing a few catchy lines, as if he was teasing me of what’s to come later on in this song. 

The introduction slowly built up, but then quickly flushed me into the first verse. The band was back at it again with the alternative hip-hop beats, this time singing (rapping?) about self-hatred and a desperate search for Mitchel’s cell phone. 

The transition into the chorus was rather quick, but nonetheless it still worked pretty well. By now I was able to conclude that this song would be slower than the other two, but I wasn’t complaining about it. 

The lyrics of this song once again displayed a level of contradiction to the other elements of the tune. Lines like “Life in the fast lane. You live then you die, babe ... so why stop now?” were somewhat depressing lyrics, yes, but the way Cave’s gentle and soothing tone of voice meshed together with them was quite menacing, sending shivers up my spine. If I’m thinking out loud here, he has a very sexy singing voice. Don’t @ me. 

In some ways this song almost felt half-assed, but thats what I kind of like about it. Although it is slower than the other 2 tracks, Why Stop Now has this kind of vibe to it that fuels my inner desires to just “not care”, which I assume is a common mood fellow Chase Atlantic fans feel while listening to their music. And that’s not a bad thing. Being a moody 18-year-old whose just trying to figure her shit out, I need music like this to listen to from time to time. Sometimes we all just need to “not care” and chill TF out.

The reason why I still wasn’t completely blown away by this song either was the same reason as Cassie. I felt like there was something missing from this track as well, though I still can’t put my finger on it. Either way, it’s still a good jam, and I can see this one becoming a lot of fans’ favorite. 

Overall rating: 7/10

Overall, the “Part Two” EP did not meet the high expectations “Part One” set for me, but that is quite all right. Triggered is a major gem of a song and I’m still going to be blasting this EP in my car for the next few weeks. Perhaps there will be a “Part Three” and maybe even a “Part Four” to help us further envision where Chase Atlantic are headed next. These EPs are obviously just a mere taste of what they’ve got in store; I feel a debut album coming soon, and I cannot wait to devour it. 

AN: This is the first music review I’ve literally ever done, so please go easy on me! Hopefully you enjoyed it - I tried to keep it as honest as possible, so I apologize if any of my opinions offend/upset you, but they are just my opinions. If you liked this, let me know! I’d love to do more reviews in the future.