#and when they cam to the surface and saw all of that stuff -in person- as well as how well/poorly one parent was doing over another | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hatboyproject · 4 years ago

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This is very long, but it might be of interest to someone, somewhere. I was asked recently about the direction I'm taking this romance in and whether or not I'll be addressing certain disability specific subjects within it. The answer, of course, is yes - I have always planned to do this in one form or another. Whilst no single piece of media can address everything I'd like to say on the subject, and I am working within the bounds of a larger story with its own pacing and focus to consider, there's still room to touch on some of these things.

I'm aware that my interpretations won't always be the same as others'. They are my interpretations, coloured by my experiences and feelings, and ultimately, this is my mod - I'm writing it for everybody who 'wears the ballcap,' so to speak! But, it's my interpretation of this character that I'm trying to share with everyone. Different people "took the helm" (laugh, I'm hilarious!) on writing Jeff across the trilogy, and as time has gone on I've been trying to convince myself that it's okay to have my turn at doing that, too - albeit in a non-professional capacity. So... Let's get into my interpretation of Jeff, where his stuff comes from on my view, and how things went to get him to where we are at the beginning of ME3, where the romance can occur.

A lot of how I interpret him comes from experiences in my own life with my own issues, and with those of my loved ones, some of whom are physically disabled in similar (but not identical) ways to Jeff. Some of this carries an element of catharsis for me.

Mechanically and narratively speaking, what draws me to writing this romance is the contrast between how these two characters are strong. It's this core idea that strength doesn't have only one manifestation in a person. That loving somebody doesn't have to be done only one way, that it can be beautiful and passionate and fulfilling - even if, when it gets physical, the headboard can't exactly be made to shatter with the force of it all. For me, it's also an exercise in insecurity and dealing with feelings of frustrated inadequacy - something that has plagued me my whole life.

Yes, yes, he's fictional - but the only way for me to really get into a character is to think about them as if they're a real being. When I look at Jeff as a person, I see many things... Some very positive, some pretty negative... I try to see him as a complete person with strengths and flaws.

On the surface he is often defensive, dismissive, sarcastic, and emotionally avoidant. But why is that? He is highly skilled, dedicated and capable, and knows it, but at the same time is a person who is constantly overlooked, underestimated, and asked to work thrice as hard to get the same considerations. Even then, his validity is questioned often by almost everyone around him. Over time, combined with the realities of living with his physical condition, this has given him some deep-seated insecurities. He feels the need to brag about his skills because they are, ultimately, the one thing about himself that he is absolutely certain has real worth. He overcompensates for this by abusing rules and technicalities wherever he can, because I think he knows that if he played life by the rules, he'd never have gotten anywhere. It's a stacked deck, so why not hide some aces up his sleeve? When you don't fit in the box provided, you question the value of every box you see.

When a person lives with this long enough, it can get hard to swim against the tide of society's expectations and still remain chipper about it, let alone not internalise some of it. It can cause a person to create a shell constructed out of distrust and untruth.

Living with a disability can really suck sometimes, and the suck is compounded when having to deal with your own frustrations plus those of others. In my personal experience, that happens a lot.

There is a certain sense of alienation that it can create, and it can become a kind of Sword of Damocles. It can be easier to anticipate rejection and others' assumptions, inabilities to understand or relate than to keep reaching out, only to have the same tired conversations about being different. I see a lot of this in him. I understand the chip he has on his shoulder.

I also see an extremely sensitive, empathetic, devoted and boundlessly loving person under all that. In fact, it's because of these things that I think he actively tries to distance himself. At the core of his being, I see Jeff as somebody who loves quickly and completely. I think he sees that as a vulnerability, incompatible with what he's learned he has to do to survive... and also with the machismo thing that comes with being a pilot. I think on some level he's terrified of that about himself, but he also can't help it. Jeff is ride or die. So, he tells himself he doesn't care and never lets anyone in. Any time anyone showed interest, he'd shut them down, alienate them, distance himself, and get in the seat of something that flies.

I think up until now, (ME3) he's seen intimacy both as a thing he longs for, but is also afraid of because of his fundamental knowledge that he is different. He thinks he can't "measure up" to what he sees all around him. He sees romance as something that will lead to his inevitable rejection and being crushed, emotionally - and if he's not careful, physically, too. I think he's embarrassed about that as well. He's very interested where it comes to all that, but the things he likes to watch, he knows he can't do like that. His only experience is second-hand as a voyeur, so some of his perceptions about that are unhealthy for him. I think any kind of attempt by the medical professionals in his life to broach the topic and offer support on, he's angrily changed the subject, or stopped listening to, because of the entire mess above. I think Jeff is kind of a lonely person, and some of it is self-imposed, though the reasons for him thinking it's the right thing to do aren't all within his control.

All this is difficult for him to reconcile with, because he has been desperately in love with his commanding officer since almost the moment s/he met him, but entirely unprepared to face it.

I think at first it was easy for him to dismiss it as a stupid crush. Everyone gets them when cramped up in close quarters in stressful situations and the Commander's magnetism was hard to ignore. But then it became clear that Shepard really hadn't read his file and really hadn't made any assumptions at all about him. S/he just wanted to know him, and as time progressed and that actually bore out, it got hard not to really feel something powerful, even though s/he was the Commander and it wasn't strictly appropriate to think that way. But, then there was that thing about not fitting in the box provided...

I think he agonised over coming to Shepard with it, but ultimately decided it would be selfish with everything they were going through. I think there was a part of him that decided s/he'd never be interested anyway, not when there were other, healthier people to choose from... People who didn't have these hangups or need special accommodations made for them. I think he decided to keep it to himself, for what he felt was both their sakes.

If/When the Commander quietly hooked up with someone else, I think he had a lot of feelings all at once. On the one hand, the person he cared for most was finding some peace in all the craziness. On the other, he wished that particular brand of peace was shared with him. Most of the time there were more important things to worry about, but during downtime, I think it was on his mind a lot.

I think he feels very sheepish about it, but occasionally his jealousy got the better of him and he interrupted Shepard at moments that got too hard to watch on the security cams. He watched the cams around the ship lot, and listened in on all the others a fair bit. I think because he saw himself as being at a remove from most people in a lot of ways, it was easy to justify that to himself. I think he saw it kind of like listening to a podcast or a soap opera or... Nature documentary, almost, or something. He got to know all of them in this way... Parasocially at first, but gradually, socially too. He felt better about trying, because he had this secret edge. Not the greatest stuff he's ever done, but... Complete person. Strengths and flaws.

And then, the unthinkable happened. He couldn't accept that the ship was dying. He was sure he could save it... But when Shepard's hand touched his shoulder, when s/he'd come back for him, he knew it was over. And then, it really was over. Shepard paid the price for his arrogance. The person he wanted to protect the most spun off out into space. The communicator between his mask and that helmet was still in range for long enough that he could hear the choking. For a long time afterward, even hearing people cough made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

The Alliance grounded him. I don't think he even had the capacity to be mad about it. I think that was a hard time for Jeff. I think between being burdened with the knowledge of the Reapers, the loss of Shepard, and the weight of his guilt, he was pretty close to the very, very edge when Cerberus knocked on his door and made him a bunch of promises. Pretty sure those promises had nothing to do with leather seats and everything to do with Project Lazarus. I'm very sure that the promise of Shepard coming back is the reason he even let Cerberus pay for the surgeries he agreed to undergo, because I don't think he valued himself much at all at that point. I'm pretty sure it was being ready to help Shepard that he was thinking about when he was learning to walk on his painful legs without crutches for the very first time. When Cerberus offered him a big shiny reset button I think he took it without hesitation because there wasn't anything else to hope for. I think seeing Shepard in the docking bay galvanised him and without ever telling them so, he pledged his life to them even harder than before. I think he told himself that he would support Shepard in every way he could. He would go wherever, do whatever, and when dealing with him, try to give them what he knew they needed; a goddamn break.

So, fast forward again, and now we are here. With all of this in mind... Shepard might have had a dalliance with someone else, or might've been too damaged by their previous love interest on Horizon, or whatever. Either way, I think Jeff saw it as not his business to even dream about that. I think the guilt tore him up every time he looked at Shepard. I think he felt like on some level, he deserved the pain of unrequited feelings which only ever got more intense. If he didn't think himself worthy of it back then, doubly so now. I think during the six months of house arrest, he tried to visit, but the Alliance denied his every attempt. Then the attack on Earth happened.

And so now we have Jeff, who, just like other humans is confused and groping about for a sense of what's up and what's down. Fortunately for him, Shepard is part of that sense of stability. He's just better at hiding it, because avoiding it and telling himself to focus elsewhere is second nature to him by this point. But things are a little different, now. Shepard seems looking around for a connection too. Future days seem short in number and the rulebook less and less important by the minute. Denying it to himself becomes impossible, and even EDI prods him about it. Shepard won't stop being so goddamn nice to him and even responds with things that if he didn't know better, he could interpret as... But then all the old insecurities come rushing back and he's walking on his own damn eggshells again. Fuck it. It's time to admit it. To come clean. S/he has to know.

So he asks. And s/he accepts. He's equal parts thrilled, stunned and terrified. He's even on some level, suspicious. Is s/he setting him up for a fall? Are they angry about his responsibility? What do they want out of this, actually? He hasn't explained what it'd be like. That what they're doubtlessly expecting of him is unrealistic. That he's completely inexperienced. I think at this point, he's a bit pissed off with himself and feeling a lot of dread because he's pretty sure how this is going to go. He realises he's got so caught up in it that he's done things in the wrong order. Damage control. He has to talk with Shepard and explain what s/he should expect from him, because it will be different. Manage expectations because he's had to manage his own. He goes in steeled.

But s/he knows it will be different, it turns out. As ever, Shepard has made no assumptions whatsoever. S/he only wants to get to know him. Wants him for everything he is, and accepts what he is not. It was never an issue for them beyond understanding how to work with it, because he is worthy just as he is, and has worked hard enough. He has to teach them about his limitations, about underestimating and overestimating... But where there's a will, there's a way. Time for a few shared moments of peace before the end of days, and through all the craziness, something feels right at last. He feels safe enough to let Shepard in properly. Thus begins his reassessment of himself and reckoning with letting go of the insecurities he has that aren't actually his own, but come from outside.

Also he totally gets to sext the Commander now when s/he's on missions. Nice.

So. There's a lot more I could say and expound upon but it's been hours and I have stuff to do. That's my direction. It's not going to suit everyone, and I doubt I can get everything across... But I'll try. I'm just one person, with just one perspective, with just one version of this story. But I hope people like what I come up with surrounding this framework, because I have lived a lot of it myself. Just a few less Reapers in my version. Not everyone's experiences and responses will be the same.

#shoker #shoker mod #hatboyproject #jeff joker moreau #character study #my approach

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

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for the meet uglies, sternclay 60 sfw? OwO

Here you go!

60 Sterncly SFW. we’re both on a reality show (like the queer bachelor) where we’re told to be friends but the first time we met, you were incredibly rude and judgmental and I don’t know if I can do this for the damn cameras

“So, Barclay, now that we’re a few days in, what’s your impression of the other contestants?”

“They, uh, they all seem like great guys. We come from a lot of different backgrounds, so that’s kind of interesting to be around but, uh, I live in a place that’s like a big, chosen family, so being in a house with a bunch of types of personalities is kinda, uh, homey.”

“There’s no one you think you’ll struggle with?”

“Uh. Well. I, uh, I don’t like Joseph too much. He came in and he’s so, like, phony from all the years in the FBI. It’s like he’s trying to be polite and charming but really he thinks we’re all idiots for being here. Which, like, buddy, last I checked you signed up for this the same as the rest of us.”

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

“Joseph, any worries about the other contestants?”

“No. I mean, we’re competitors on a dating show, not enemies. I think we’re all trying to show Vincent the best versions of ourselves.”

“There’s no one you’ve had conflicts with?”

“........I, um, Barclay and I got into a small argument earlier about the house rules. But I’m sure if we both stick around long enough we’ll come to an understanding.”

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

“Gentlemen, this cannot continue.” Ned, the producer, sits on the couch across from them. Barclay glares at Joseph, but the other man keeps a cool demeanor. Great, he’s making Barclay look like the big, angry mountain even off camera.

“I thought reality shows needed conflict to thrive.” Joseph cocks an eyebrow.

“They do, but about big things, like love and rivalry. Not how to properly load a dishwasher.”

“I’m just trying to be efficient.”

“My way is perfectly fine.” Barclay snaps, “jesus, I worked in kitchens for years, I know how to get clean plates.”

“That doesn’t make it optimal.”

“Do you have to be right about everything?”

“Gentlemen, you recall we have a housekeeping staff, right?”

“It doesn’t matter” Barclay doesn’t take his eyes off Ned, “we’re supposed to all get along, not all try and prove we’re the smartest guy in the room.”

“See, this is your problem, you need everyone to like you, to see you like a big brother, but you’re missing the fact that at least three of them have decided your gentle giant persona is a threat and they’re trying to oust you.”

“It’s not a persona, it’s just how I am. We aren’t all government shams disguised as men.”

Joseph’s facade cracks for a moment, blue eyes trying to light Barclay on fire.

“Enough.” Ned shakes his head, “you may despise each other as much as you please behind the scenes. In front of the cameras, please try to act as if you’re not ten seconds away from coming to blows. Agreed?”

They trade a final, furious look.

“Agreed.”

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They’re a little over three weeks in; Vincent is still doing lots and lots of short, individual dates between the group outings, so the contestants have ample time to hang around the house and get on each others nerves.

Case in point: Joseph was right when he warned Barclay that others saw him as a threat. Chad, Alex, Nico, and Rich have all decided to go after him. Just this morning he’s been told he’s not man enough for Vincent (he shooed a wolf spider out of the kitchen with a broom instead of squishing it), too girly (he offered to make cupcakes if people wanted), and too big (who'd want to fuck a six foot tall puppy).

His mood is not helped by Joseph chatting away on the couch about his former job with the FBI. Barclay swears it’s all the asshole knows how to talk about. Maybe it’s time for Barclay to play a game of his own.

“Hey, Joseph.”

The other man turns, black hair perfectly slicked back like he thinks he’s some kind of movie star.

“I bet you ten bucks you can’t make it until eight tonight without talking about your job.”

The other contestants in the room snicker, several even giving Barclay a thumbs up.

Joseph adjusts his shirt sleeves, “You’re on.”

Ten hours later, Barclay is forced to get his wallet. The other man never mentioned the FBI once. In fact, he did Barclay an even bigger favor; he didn’t talk at all.

He finds the agent sitting on the back steps leading into the garden. Stays standing as he holds out the cash, “you win fair and square.”

Joseph looks at the money, then looks away, “I did it to show I could, not for the bet.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to go, uh, quite so hard on the silence thing.”

“I didn’t mean to. But, um, every time I was going to open my mouth, I realized it was somehow related to work. So I kept quiet.” He sighs, stretches out his legs. He’s in slacks, because of course he is, “I must have been so tedious to listen to, no wonder I was driving you up the wall.”

“Joseph-”

“I really am married to my career. I guess it’s not surprising my last chance for love is on a T.V show.”

“Hey, I get it.” Barclay sits down next to him, “when I was first working in commercial kitchens my hours were crazy; I barely saw my apartment, my friends, my boyfriend who pretty quickly became my ex. But it was what I needed to do to build the career I wanted for myself. To do what I loved.”

Only the crickets and the distant waves reply. Then, “You said you were a private chef now, right? Along with writing cookbooks?”

“Yeah. Kinda surprised you remembered.”

“Listening is a major skill in my profession. Besides, it’s polite to pay attention to what people tell you.”

“What’s your job now? You only ever talk about the FBI stuff?”

“Paranormal investigation. I never bring it up because people assume I’m out chasing Bigfoot with a shaky-cam or trying to communicate with haunted dolls.”

“So...what is it instead?”

“Helping people figure out they’re homes aren’t haunted or the monster on their property is just some owls. I like the challenge of solving the mystery, and I like helping people feel safe in they’re homes.”

Loud voices form inside; the caterers must have refilled the bar. He doesn’t really want to go in. It’s too nice out here.

“You wanna hear about the restaurant my coworkers swore was haunted?”

Joseph perks up, turning to face him, “Yes, please.”

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He’d been really looking forward to beach day. Six guys are already gone, and Vincent has taken his fleet of suitors to the sunny San Diego shores. Barclay is dismayed to find all but three of the other guys have waxed their chests. Joseph hasn’t, but his happy trail is nothing compared to fucking black forest on Barclays torso. Nico’s gotten half the guys to call Barclay “bigfoot.”It makes him feel like he’s back in high school P.E freshman year, and his body image is rapidly sliding into that of a shy fourteen year old.

“Barclay!” Joseph comes jogging out of the surf towards the towels they lay down side by side when they arrived, “you should come in, it’s really the perfect weather for swimming.” He drops onto his towel, black hair a bit mussed. The swim-shorts that he thought were blue with green spots turn out to have not dots, but tiny UFOs on them.

“I, uh, I’m good. I, uh, I burn easily and I don’t think anyone wants to rub sunscreen on my hairy back.”

“Hey, Bigfoot, what’s wrong? Scared of what’ll happen if the cameras get a load of your gut?”

Barclay growls, stares at his toes. Joseph tracks Nico as he finishes jogging by. Then he calmly picks up a frisbee, aims a throw, and knocks his snapback off his head. He’s sitting down before the other man can work out who threw it. Barclay chuckles, but doesn’t get up.

“Bigfoot’s my favorite cryptid.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“And who gives a shit if you have a stomach.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re cut.”

Joseph grabs his sunglasses, “because I like that for my body. I happen to like yours just as much. Um I, I mean, it seems like Vincent likes it.” He tips his head towards the Bachelor, who gives them both a long once-over.

“...Will you do my back?”

“Of course, big guy.” The nickname sounds so right on his tongue it makes Barclay want to set his head in his lap and ask him to pet it.

It’s late afternoon when Ned herds them all onto a boat which promptly steers towards some cliffs. Joseph stays close to Barclay, pleasant expression noticeably tightening the closer they get to the rocks.

“I’ve been dreading this. Cliff diving is not something I’d pick to do on my own.”

“Heights?”

He shakes his head, “Deep water. I know it’s not rational, and I even checked to be sure there hadn’t been large shark sightings in the area, but I can never shake the feeling there’s something waiting just out of sight, ready to surge up and eat me.”

They all climb up together, Vincent staying on the boat to watch them jump (this is technically a friendly competition to show off how brave they are). As they’re turns get closer, Barclay sees Joseph doing deep breathing exercises.

They hit the edge. The agent freezes.

“Shit. I don’t think I can do this.”

“C’mon, where’s my daring special agent?”

Joseph still doesn’t move.

“You, uh, you wanna jump together? Maybe the megaladon or whatever will eat me instead.”

“Megalodons are extinct; we’d know if they weren’t, same as we know Whale Sharks aren’t.”

“They you are.” Barclay murmurs, smiling.

Joseph manages a smile back, “On three?”

“Yep. One, two” he grabs Joseph’s hand “three”

The water rises to swallow them with terrifying speed, but nothing is waiting for them except one very startled fish. They surface together, Joseph laughing triumphantly, hair plaster to his head and sun shining in his ocean eyes.

If Vincent doesn’t pick him, he’s out of his mind.

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“Ohmylord, we have to play this.” Joseph cannot believe his luck; he figured the barcade group date would mean a lot of solo time, but here’s his favorite game in the whole wide world.

“Monster Hunt?” Barclay laughs as he lets himself be lovingly shoved down into the seat of a cut-out Jeep, “very on brand.”

“They had this at the bowling alley near my house. I’d play when my parents had league night but couldn't get a sitter. I never could beat the Mothman level without a player two.”

He doesn’t have that problem tonight, even with Barclay distractingly delighted and handsome in the seat beside him. After that, they make it their mission to find every two-player game in the thrum of flashing colors and tinny music. He finds they both like the Bowser Bourbon Smash, and somewhere around their fourth, heated game of air hockey they each polish of one too many of them to stay upright without the support of a game, a helpful show staff member, or each other.

When they get back to the house (their fellow contestants all in a similar state to themselves) they manage to make it to Joseph’s room before collapsing into a giggling heap on the bed.

“That, hic, that was fun. Games are, hic, fun.” Barclay blinks at him, “what’re you laughing, hic, at.”

“You, you got the hiccups. S’funny because you’re so big, like, like watching a, a pitbull with a, um, a” he makes a squeezing motion that his sober self would recognize as “squeaky toy.”

“M’not big” Barclay pouts, “I, hic, maybe everyone else is, hic, just small. Ever think of th--hic--at.”

“S’not a bad thing.” Joseph shifts so they’re facing each other, “like how big you are. Makes you sexy.”

Barclay blushes, “you’re, hic, one to, to talk. You’re hot, so, hic, so fucking out. Got, got those eyes. That, hic, that face” He touches Joseph’s cheek, “love your face.”

“Love yours too.” Joseph says, stroking his beard. Then they’re moving in inelegant tandem, grabbing at each others shoulders and faces as their mouths find each other. Barclay is so warm, whimpering when Joseph rolls him on top, nipping his lips and pawing at him like a puppy hoping for a treat. Joseph is going to hold him close and let him have it.

A clatter from below, one of the other men knocking something over in the kitchen, breaks the spell.

“Wait, wait” Joseph reluctantly slides his hands of Barclays ass, “we, drunk, we’re drunk, too drunk.”

Barclay blinks down at him, pouting a little even as he groans “fuck, you’re, you’re right. Wanna, gotta remember this. Don’t wanna” he yawns, “regret it.” The instant he flops onto his back Joseph climbs into his arms and falls asleep to the slow rhythm of his breathing.

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

After that night, they agree to be more careful; they’re here for Vincent, to see if one of them is his true love. That’s what the contract they signed says.

“More careful” turns out to mean watching their alcohol intake around each other and only touching platonically (including falling asleep on the couch together. They wake up to cameras recording their nap. Barclay isn’t sure what Joseph threatens Ned with, but the footage never sees the light of day).

But unless they’re on a solo date with Vincent, they’re by each others side. Barclay teaches Joseph dominoes and how to make biscuits. Joseph introduces him to terrible old horror movies that they watch on his laptop and compliments his cooking every chance he gets.

They must be doing something right, because they move to the next round week after week, Vincent clearly enamored with both of them. Barclay certainly understands the feeling. Just not for the person who he’s supposed to.

“Joseph? If, uh, if neither of us win, what are you gonna do after this.”

“Go back to work. Maybe pitch my book about U.S cryptids.” Joseph’s smile goes shy for a moment before recovering, “but I wouldn’t worry, big guy; I think you’re the front runner for sure.”

Barclay knows for a fact that Joseph is a fan favorite and the suitor most people think will win. Which is why, when Vincent selects his final four, he’s not surprised Joseph gets the first rose. Then everyone but Barclay is holding one and Vincent is touching his shoulder.

“Barclay, please don’t take this as a sign I’m not deeply fond of you. This wasn’t an easy choice but I, well, I feel like your heart may not be in this anymore.”

He takes Vincent’s hand and squeezes it, “It’s okay. It was wonderful just to get to know you. All of you.” He looks at the final four, at Joseph’s calm, polite expression. He meets blue eyes as he says, “I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that he turns, all too aware of the cameras tracking his exit, his face, how he’ll have to do a final interview and not reveal that he’ll hate Vincent forever but not blame him in the slightest if he marries Joseph.

“Wait!”

Every eye, lensed or no, turns back to the gazebo. Joseph is at the edge of the steps, poised to run. When he sees Barclay stop, he turns to Vincent.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.” He hands the bachelor the rose, “I hope you understand.”

There’s no soundtrack on set, but strings swell in his ears all the same as Joseph descends the stairs and leaps into his arms, kissing him so hard he still has stars in his eyes when he opens them.

“It’s not a marriage proposal” Joseph whispers, kissing his cheek, “but I do have a question for you.” He pulls back, all cameras on them but his attention for Barclay alone, “would you like to be my boyfriend, big guy?”

Barclay rests their foreheads together, “Yeah, babe, I really, really would.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #bachelor au #taz amnesty

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norvicfiddler · 4 years ago

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Evil S2E1

Now I’ve seen it again, more reaction. Spoilers obviously. Overall really good season opener!

Leland

Yeeeess, this is the stuff. When I first saw Evil back in October, I referred to Leland as a little ball of Chaotic Evil fun, and apparently they’re dialling up the chaotic somewhat.

This episode was kind of a Michael Emerson tour de force wasn’t it? They gave him plenty of ground to cover, from ‘100% authentic Michael goofball’ to ‘what the actual fuck!’ swerving through comic, obsequious, deadpan deliverer of openly ludicrous ghost stories, at least 3 different flavours of manipulative. It was all tremendously fun (and creepy).

Leland himself seems to have everyone on strings at this point. Which is alarming.

Kristen

She’s not right, but I don’t think we know exactly what’s wrong. I guess we’re going to find out. While Leland is (on the surface) disruptively careering around, she seems to be mounted on gimbals. Like, she’s not phased. Certainly not by him, and I think she probably should be.

She was very confident in displaying what she thought of Leland’s silly story, but I can’t believe he intended to be believable (he’s not even consistent in the telling of it). He just needed them into his apartment. Maybe Janie’s ‘accident’ will get her to reconsider if she really has the upper hand over Jake right now. I’m worried for her!

The stuff with her daughter Lexis is increasingly disturbing too.

David

Didn’t make as big an impact for me as the others in this ep, but there’s only 46 mins and you can’t give everyone a big part every week. I did love his ‘We’ve met’. Genuine lol.

Ben

Oh dear. Ben the Magnificent (comic relief) has his own night-time visitor now. And Leland being super-fucking-creepy-omg at him via his highly unadvisedly installed web-cam hack. Seriously Ben, did you really think it would be that easy. I was waving my hands at the screen and shouting at him when he was doing that. A laptop from that particular person is hardly a benign treasure. FFS.

And oh yeah, sorry Ben, but I’m thinking you were meant to find the map. Ben’s like ‘nah, I wouldn’t have found it without the sound’. But why was he looking for a sound? Who made a big deal about it? And all the other sounds but that one were muted.

See also ‘crosses with ink bottles in don’t fall obligingly on your head by co-incidence, Kristen’. All on strings. Roll on episode 2!

#evil cbs #cbs evil #or i'm wrong #and leland's messing things up by accident #we'll see #i don't think so though #evilspoilers #evil spoilers

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stoopsbookstore · 5 years ago

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Camboy!San Kink Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

When that camera shuts off, he's out like a light, so he's not the best when it comes to aftercare. The most he does is wipe you down with a shirt and that's about it. Not even a wet shirt, just a shirt he picked up off the floor.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hands! He fucking loves showing off his hands to the audience, seeing all of the comments from the chat about how they wish it was their mouth or holes they were going in. Same goes for his occasional stream partner, Wooyoung, his hands are San's favorite part.

As for you, your ass. Simple and basic, but he loves molding and biting the flesh and teasing your puckered hole in front of the camera turns him so much.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

You best believe your chest is getting coated in cum at least twice during every stream. He loves seeing you on your back, hair all messed up, face with a fucked out expression, covered in his cum.

He also is a huge fan of watching cum leak out of any hole, so much so that when he's offline and needs to jack off, he'll watch some past streams where he came in every hole.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He cams, that would have to be his dirty secret. He's not ashamed, but how would someone say they show their dick off for a living to their strict parents who got emotional having the "talk" with him? His mom would be ashamed and his father would pretty much disown him, so he would just rather say he does some stuff online and listen to his dad bitch about "those damn influencers and their poopy tea."

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

San knows what he's doing, but he is a bit cocky with his experience. There's a reason why his solo streams are messier and less organized compared to streams with Wooyoung, even though the chat considers him to be a bottom, he's a power bottom, he like what he likes, or you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

According to BadGirlsBible, it's called the Sandwich Position.

It's basically missionary, San's on top, you're on bottom, he's spreading your legs open, but he'll have you hold the camera and give the audience a sort of P.O.V. shot, because let's be honest, who doesn't want to fuck San?

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Wooyoung dubbed him Silly San and the chat has not forgotten about it since.

San is goofy, camming can be tense sometimes, so he will sometimes pinch your butt, nip your ear, throw in a few puns here and there just to make you laugh. The chat is split fifty-fifty on it, some love it, some hate it, but as long as you're okay with it, he'll always add a little bit of humor into the streams.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Honestly, it depends on what the chat wants. If the chat wants him shaved, he'll shave. If the chat wants him hairy, he'll grow it out. He grows it out between streams and then will post a poll about an hour and a half before the stream starts for what the chat wants.

San is a people pleaser, he tries his best to cater to the audience and if that means a lot of hair or none at all, he'll do it. But if he had to choose, he'd let it grow out and no, the curtains do not match the drapes.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

On the stream, he tries to make it intimate and romantic, but it often comes off as too try-hard, so he often just keeps it light-hearted instead of sensual.

When he's just with you, he is able to be romantic and it not come off as cringy or like he's forcing himself and no matter how many times you tell him to just be himself when it comes to sensuality, he is still stiff and awkward about it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

San uses a cockring just because he feels it produces more cum for the audience to lose their shit over. As mentioned before, he's a people-pleaser and he will make a show of masturbation if it means more tips and coins.

If jacking off in front of a camera can make him 300 dollars a day, fuck yeah, he'll do it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Honestly, it would be easier to list the few things he won't do, but his top kinks are

Toys

Odaxelagnia (Biting/Be bitten)

Mixophilia (Watching yourself having sex)

Roleplay

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His room at the cam clubhouse, Utopia. It has all of his toys, it has the most perfect bed, there's a bunch of surfaces, and he just likes the vibe the room gives off.

Also, if his parents saw him with you in his bed, they would freak the fuck out.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing all of the coins and tips on his profile. Sounds bad because "greed bad," but this is his job, he makes money from having sex with you or Wooyoung or fucking himself on camera.

Another thing is seeing you already undressed, ready for him to fuck you and for Wooyoung to have already start the stream and teasing himself for later.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) -Trigger Warning- Mentions of non-consensual sex

Someone once requested him to do a non-consensual scenario with you and it was an immediate shut-down of the livestream, the person was banned from his stream, he told everyone else in Utopia to ban the person and San refunded all of the tips he was given.

There's a line and this person crossed it. He'll do a robber/houseowner scenario, he'll do a demon/human scenario, helpless kinks are fine, but as soon as he saw a comment about not stopping, San said "fuck that shit, fuck your 1,000 coins and get off my stream."

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves giving and loves receiving. It's like Christmas all around! Give and take is his motto when it comes to oral.

That being said, he's very sloppy with oral, he's not bad at all, it's just very wet and spitty and slobbery. Which is fine if you're into that, but holy fuck, is it a pain to clean up.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

San is like a jackrabbit when he's on stream, his hips will pistol in and out of you or Wooyoung and he actually has a counter with how many orgasms per stream happens.

The record is 6, 4 from you and two from him.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It seems counterintuitive for him to love fucking you and Wooyoung fast and hard, bu not be able to stand quickies, they're just not his thing. He likes to be able to take his time getting you riled up and tease you and he can't do that in a 10 minute quickie.

Also, he cums a lot and that takes a while to clean up.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Experiment as long as he's inside the comfort of his second room, but he can't run the risk of his parents finding out, so anything he buys comes to Utopia from Amazon, Adam and Eve, Spencer's and if he needs to go out in public to buy supplies, he goes with Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Wooyoung, his facemask is spirit gummed to his face, his sunglasses are superglued to his ears and his hoodie is sewed to his scalp.

He wants to take risks, but he's still being held back by the thoughts of what his parents would think.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

As mentioned before, he is able to go for at least 2 hours, his longest stream was 4 hours, it was a lot of teasing, ruined orgasms and a ruined bedding set.

Seonghwa was not happy when he found out a 70 dollar bedding set was ruined with sweat, cum and squirt.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Cockring. That's his favorite toy and will always be his favorite toy.

For you, he has the nipple clamp that's attached to a choker with his username on it and it gets him so fucking hard when you wear it. When it's him and Wooyoung, it's a paddle that they had specially made, one side is a cushion while the other is just hard wood.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He could spend an entire stream just teasing you, it's his favorite thing to do. He loves watching you squirm when he has a vibrator near you or you're blindfolded and he's trailing a feather along your body.

Don't even try to tease him though, it will end horribly for you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Mingi has made jokes about not streaming at the same time with San because you will hear his groans and moans through the door. This fucker is loud.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He wants to do a three-way simultaneously stream with you and Wooyoung, but the schedules never work out. You either have class or your own stream, Wooyoung has his own stream or is planning for the next month.

Just let him fuck both of you on stream already, dammit!

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

5 and a half inches, nothing too big, nothing too small, just enough for the audience to flip their shit everytime he whips it out.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

This boy is so horny, there's a reason his streams are on the longer end, about 2 hours. He can cum at least 3 times in one stream, and to be honest, it's probably because he only fucks on stream days unless it's a special occasion like a birthday or your anniversary.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Almost instantly.

The second that "This Broadcast Has Ended" textbox comes up, he is out like a light for a good 2 or 3 hours. There was one time when he ended the stream while he was still inside of you from behind and you both just plopped, San on top of you, his chest attached to your back from the sweat and Seonghwa had to wake you two up after 30 or so minutes because San let the vibrator on and it fell to the floor.

Vibrator on wood is very annoying to Seonghwa, don't drop your vibrator on his clean floors.

#choi san #san #ateez #ateez au #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #camboy!ateez #full kink alphabet #my writings

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malumsmermaid · 5 years ago

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A/N: So, been watching a lot of Ghost Adventures, wanted to do something with ghost hunting, and uh, so this happened out of it. It’s in the same universe as Toxic Valentine because that world is already started so uh yeah. Anyway it’s a fun one and I have an idea I’m gonna explain more at the end.

Word Count: 5,336

Warnings: language? not really much else tbh

Description: Demon!Calum x Ghost Hunter

Calum settled into his large leather sofa with a sigh, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. He flipped on his tv, snapping his fingers, smiling as his now open beer landed on the coaster next to his foot as the refrigerator door slammed shut. He scrolled through the guide, settling on a rerun of Cutthroat Kitchen.

He had finished off this month’s list of people who owed debts to the king and other higher ranking demons, the final four all ending up at the same coffeeshop, sitting at the counter waiting for their coffee, each looking tired and hunted. When Calum got their attention, his brown eyes shifting to pure black, they all followed him quietly. When they appeared at the office, they each had their coffee order in hand, Calum figuring he’d give them a slight reward for not making him chase them down. Allowing them to at least have something to fiddle with while they had to stand in the check-in line.

He gave them a quick warning about what would happen if they chose to try and sneak out, thanked them for the long weekend he was about to begin, and then turned to walk to the elevators, his whole day now clear, so he had time to take the long ride back up to the surface, slipping his phone out of his pocket to make plans.

For tonight though, his only plans involved his couch and some tv. He was halfway through his beer and Simon was just about to announce who was not going to be in the final round when Ashton appeared on the couch next to him. Both demons sat quietly for a moment, Calum waiting until the show cut to break to ask, “We got a case?”

Neither demon were typically delivery boys, at least not anymore, but things were quiet at the moment and they hadn’t risen as far as they had in the past couple centuries by slacking off. Ashton shook his head in response, fingers running through his tousled red hair before he spoke. “I need you to cover for me. I’m supposed to check in on one of the portals tonight, but-“ He paused and Calum raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at the fidgeting demon next to him. “It’s just, it’s one year since Angel and I started officially seeing each other and I wanted to do something for them.”

Calum smiled, letting out a soft chuckle, joking, “Neither of you are human, time doesn’t really matter.” Ashton’s hazel eyes widened at his response, flicking upwards as if to remind him of why the anniversary was important, and Calum hummed. “Yeah, I get it, don’t worry, but you owe me two cases of beer, alright?”

“There’s a ghost hunting team there tonight.”

Calum laughed quietly, shaking his head, “Ok, one case of beer, just because I like to fuck with the ghost hunters. But you’re up to three if they bring a spirit box, those things are fucking annoying.”

Ashton grinned, clapping his friend on the shoulder in gratitude before turning into shadow, leaving Calum to his show.

*******

Rose smiled into Matt’s camera as they did a final check on their gear, making sure that, at least for the moment, the batteries were all charged up and everything was functioning. A few strange things had already happened while they were shooting their interviews and going over the history of the location, so she hoped that now, as the full moon was shining down in all her glory, the activity would be on the rise. She pocketed her ovilus as Violet walked up, holding the thermal cam and spirit box. Once Erin and Sid walked back into their command center and confirmed that everything was rolling and ready to go, they made plans, initially splitting up into three different areas of the building to do solo investigations while Erin and Sid watched the live feed of the X cams they’d already set up, to be where the other three couldn’t. They’d regroup at the command center and go over they’d experienced so far in three hours, then Matt, Vi, and Rose would all go into the room where the alleged portal was located.

The ghost hunters were so focused on checking everything that they didn’t notice the temperature sensor on the other side of the room go off as Calum appeared in their base camp, keeping himself invisible to the humans in the room for the moment. The demon rested his hand on the back of one of the office chairs in front of the monitors, scoping out which rooms they had cameras in. One corner of his mouth pulled up when he noticed that one of the stationary cameras was unsurprisingly pointed at the portal he was supposed to be checking on. He shook his head before looking up in surprise at the sound of a camera shutter. He looked towards the group, noticing that one of the women was holding a full spectrum camera and doing a few test snaps around the room. The camera went off again while Calum was frozen, this time pointed straight at him. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to be checking the photos in that moment, maybe not expecting anything to be in the control room with them, though Calum was aware of two weak spirits, cowering in the corner, trying to not be noticed by the demon in the room. He straightened his suit and gave a quick salute to the two ghosts and disappeared, having decided to go wait in one of the rooms for the team to get started.

He didn’t have to wait long, watching as Matt slowly made his way into the dark room, switching off his flashlight so that the night vision camera in his hand could actually do its job. Calum hummed, listening to Matt drone on about using his energy to appear and that he wasn’t there to hurt the spirits and whatever else he had to say to what he believed to be in the room with him. Calum rolled his eyes, lobbing a small stick towards the stationary cam in front of him, nodding at the ghosts whose forms were growing stronger as Matt spoke to the room, and disappeared, letting out a bored sigh into the digital recorder as he did so.

He appeared with the next person, trying to decide what he should do when the purple UV lights of the full spectrum and the static screech of the spirit box covered him. “Ok, guys, there’s a shadow in the room with me now, I’m seeing it on the full spectrum. I’m going to attempt communication with this entity. Hello, if you are the shadow in the room, can you tell me your name? Do you mean any of us harm?”

Calum’s hands went to shield his ears as he said, “ow, shit.” The words made their way out of the spirit box and he took the young woman’s freak out over his communication to vanish, this time just running out into the hallway to get away.

He decided to take a quick stop in on the portal to do his actual job before continuing to mess with the hunters. He refreshed the incantations that kept it under their control and fixed up a few other issues he noticed as he took in the portal, humming quietly as he did so.

Once he finished everything he needed with the portal he strolled over to where the team’s equipment reading this room was. He looked at the main camera, another full spectrum lighting the room purple. It made sense that there would be one of those in the most active room in the building. He turned his attention to the other piece of equipment, looking at the large screen. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he noticed that in addition to mapping the room, it was reading the atmospheric conditions. “Definitely set some of that stuff off.” he murmured, glancing at the temperature and humidity readings which were slowly moving back to where they had originally been now that he had finished his work on the portal.

He knew things wouldn’t fully stabilize until he left the room, his thoughts going to the bright red haired woman he had yet to see. She had clearly been the leader of the investigation, which would make her the most fun for Calum to fuck with. His mind flicked back to a tale from a ghost at a hotel Calum had visited once, telling him how he had once thrown a large man with spiked black hair down the hall and sent him crying for the rest of his team, shaken up from their meeting.

He was about to go to the other room with a stationary cam that he hadn’t visited yet when he heard a woman from the doorway, speaking into her walkie talkie, “Yeah, I’m heading into the portal room to check out what you guys have been seeing, I’ll be in touch if anything gets crazy and I need backup.”

She panned the room with her infrared camera, calling out, “Hello? Is anyone in here? My friends are using this piece of equipment we set up earlier tonight and they saw the conditions in this room going crazy. Did you want our attention? Do you want me in here?”

“Not really,” Calum stated, not caring whether his voice was captured only on the audio for later or if the red haired woman he’d just been thinking about heard him herself. “Was just trying to do what my buddy sent me here to do.”

He paused, standing behind the two different cameras, listening to the silence that had taken over. Clearly she had yet to hear him. He glanced to his right at the screen and saw a little stick person appear, labeled “anomaly detected.” Shit. He’d possibly been seen doing his work as well. He glanced over his shoulder to see a new ghost, an old woman, smiling at him, as if she were enjoying the show that he was now involved in. He sighed, throwing his arm out away from his body, dispelling the spirit temporarily. He could hear voices coming over the radio the girl had on her hip, but she seemed to be paying more attention to the room itself than her friends’ updates on the stick figure.

“I have a device in my hand, it’s an Ovilus III. You can scroll through it to find the words you want to use to answer my questions, do you understand?”

Calum grinned, he much preferred this sort of device. He floated over, trying to keep from crunching the scattered bits of rock and broken glass that covered the floor by hovering above it. However, as he landed behind her he landed on a large piece of glass, making a loud crunch as it was caught between the bottoms of his Docs and the floor. He let out a breath, leaning over her to put his hand on the device.

“I’m feeling a heavy presence around me.” Rose said into her camera, turned toward her face as she skimmed the room.

Calum just smiled, finding two words he wanted to say.

“You’re cute,” the ovilus slowly spat out in its robotic voice.

She gasped, camera pointed at the display screen now, showing only the world ‘cute.’ She closed her eyes for a moment, licking her lips before asking, “Are you the presence I feel around me?”

“Yes,” both Calum and the ovilus said.

“Can you tell me what you are?”

“Don’t wanna scare you yet.” Calum smiled, smirk falling when the ovilus only managed ‘don’t…scare.’

“Is something scaring you, or do you not want to scare me?” Rose asked after a moment, trying to make sense of Calum’s message.”

‘Second.’ he willed the ovilus to respond, staring at the dark black line under the word. His focus on finding the right word seemed to have used a lot of power, if what he understood about the device was correct.

“Okay,” the ghost hunter said shakily, “I understand. Thank you.” An alarm went off and Rose glanced down at her watch. She chewed her lip before asking, “I have to go meet with the rest of my team now. We’re going to come right back into this room after we change batteries and talk for a little while. Can you stick around and talk to all of us when we come back?”

“Course doll.” Calum said, satisfied that the device actually caught both words this time and not just the affirmation or the term of endearment.

“Th-thank you,” she said and Calum pulled back off of her, allowing her to leave the room without running through him.

Calum hummed, watching her until she turned a corner. He smiled to himself, floating upwards and just resting on one of the rafters. He leaned his head back against the wooden beam. He knew he’d made a lot of noise tonight and perhaps should’ve waited a little longer to start his work, but he did halfway just want to go curl back up on his sofa with his hell hound, seeing what other torturous things Alton Brown could come up with for those who dared to brave his kitchen.

He considered for a moment summoning Duke here, but the dog was about as old as Calum was, which was pretty damn old for a hell hound. If Calum hadn’t taken Duke in he probably would’ve been dispelled as he started to slow down, not able to shadow travel as well anymore. Calum’s heart was still a little soft, so he’d allowed the dog to live out the rest of his days in comfort, disguised as a small fluffy dog so that his human neighbors wouldn’t freak out over the shadowy dog romping through his yard.

So he decided against summoning the dog here, even if he could technically carry Duke through the portal to go home, choosing to just let the dog sleep. It was the middle of the night anyway. He wondered if he’d rather they use the spirit box when they came back in. As much as it hurt his ears, at least he could completely communicate his thoughts to his company.

“How long are they going to sit around and talk about things?” he groaned, glancing to the open door.

He was a demon, he didn’t have to keep the promise he’d made to the girl, but then again, he felt compelled to keep his word. He decided instead to focus on the other presences in the room. Several were just impressions, stuck forever in a time loop, repeating a few moments in their life over and over until the end of time. The other three were intelligent, two of them drawn by the energy and power radiating from Calum. The third was the old woman, returned from wherever in the building Calum had sent her earlier. He hummed, eyebrows furrowing as he focused in on her.

He hopped down from his rafter, gracefully landing in front of her. “Pardon me ma’am, but there’s something familiar about you. Did you create the portal?”

The old woman nodded, shifting her silver braids over her shoulder. “Thank you for maintaining it. I prefer you to the others who have come in years past.”

Calum smiled at her, “You got lucky tonight. My friend was supposed to come tonight, but he got me to cover for him.”

She hummed, grasping Calum’s wrist. He jumped in shock, she was probably just as powerful, if not more powerful, in death as she was in life. Very few ghosts were able to touch him at all, and her grip was firm. Her eyes were closed and she nodded slowly, “I like him too. He’s nice to talk to. You both have potential to be good, to ascend from your current state.”

Calum laughed, “Luke and Michael say the same thing.” He smiled as he looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head as he went on, “Don’t think their boss would see things the same though.”

The woman shrugged again, “never know if you don’t try.”

He hummed, nodding quietly before continuing to talk with the old woman. Soon enough they both heard footsteps coming towards them down the corridor. She smiled up at Calum, “You’ve kept your promise to the ghost hunter. We’ll talk again next time.”

Calum just stared as she faded from the room, taking the other spirits with her. He sighed, quietly settling into the old rickety chair as he listened to spirit box girl talk to the camera, giving a recap of the room’s importance and what the other girl had experienced earlier in the night.

“Is the entity I was speaking to earlier still here? I didn’t introduce myself earlier, I’m Rose, I brought my friends Matt and Violet with me. I have the same device we were using when we spoke earlier. Can you tell me your name?”

Calum smiled, walking over slowly.

“Rose, there’s some black mist showing up on my camera! It’s coming toward us.” Matt called.

Calum stopped a few feet from Rose, humming quietly as he put a finger to the ovilus, pulling up his name.

“Calum.” The ovilus droned and Rose grinned.

“Are you the spirit I was talking to earlier, Calum?”

“Yes.”

“Are you the mist my friend is seeing on his camera?”

Another “yes.”

“Is it ok if we use a different device to communicate with you? It may allow you to answer our questions more completely.”

Calum shook his head, he’d had a feeling this was coming, and he was debating how many beers Ashton may owe him over this. “If…Must,” the ovilus rattled out and Calum sighed.

“Okay then…” Rose said, glancing at her other friends, who were staring at her in shock. Even having seen the footage from earlier they still couldn’t believe what was happening.

Violet stepped forward in a daze, switching on the spirit box before looking over at Rose. She just nodded at her friend and continued on, “Ok Calum, use our energy and the energy being put out by this new device to continue communicating with us. It’s ok if you need a second to shift your focus.”

Calum just laughed, they really had no idea what they were dealing with. “Sounds dangerous, sweetheart.” he stated, smiling at the echo of his voice through the speaker of the box.

Rose took a deep breath, eyes glued to the spirit box. “Earlier you said you didn’t want to scare me by telling me who or what you are, I have my friends here now, so I might be less scared. Can you tell me now?”

“Darkness.” Calum replied simply with a shrug.

“We got that from the mist I’m seeing, Calum. Can you give us any other sort of sign as to what you are?” Matt asked, calling across the room while he kept his camera trained on the two women.

Calum took a moment to think about his next move. He tried to pull his focus from the screeching of the spirit box, to bring his attention to anything other than the white noise filling the cavernous room. “God, I know that thing makes it easier for ghosts to talk, but…”

He paused mid sentence, draining the battery of the spirit box before appearing before them in his human form, also killing Matt’s camera just for the hell of it, “It hurts my fucking ears.”

The trio stared at him in shock, completely frozen as they took him in. He grinned at them, gently taking Rose’s hand and pressing it to her lips. “Was nice to meet you Rose. I was just s’posed to check on our portal and head out, but it’s been nice helping the ghosts show you three a good time.” Rose found her voice again, “What are you? You keep avoiding it. You killed our spirit box to appear, and you said ghosts, like you aren’t one.”

Calum just laughed, his brown irises glowing orange, so that the humans could actually see the change in his eyes. “Do you really wanna know, doll? Probably could’ve appeared without killing the spirit box, but like I said, it’s annoying and it hurts my ears. Also killed your buddy’s camera for fun. Left everything else alone.”

Violet stared at his glowing eyes, letting out a little whimper of “demon.”

Calum just nodded at her in response, giving her an encouraging smile.

“Do-do you plan on attaching to any of us?” Matt gulped out.

Calum smiled, shaking his head, “No, this is just more fun than sitting on my couch watching Food Network reruns. May run into you guys sometime later though, just for fun. I’ll let you know if I’m there. ‘Specially you, cutie.”

Rose blushed at the attention of the demon and he smiled, gently fixing a stray strand of her hair before waving goodbye, disappearing into the shadows once more.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later, Calum was hanging around in some small town in the bible belt, chasing down the kid of one of his bosses who had been skipping out on school. She seemed to be choosing to hide in a place where her mom couldn’t follow, but she didn’t seem to realize that that didn’t mean that Calum couldn’t. He hadn’t seen the kid yet, so he was just sitting on a brick wall that allowed one of the little flower gardens to stay level with the patio it was based off of while the sidewalk sloped downward. He kicked his legs back and forth, letting his chucks bounce off the wall as he stared at the clouds rolling by.

His attention was brought back to earth suddenly. He hummed, scanning around when his eyes landed on a familiar person. He smiled as he watched her. Her bright red hair had faded, dark roots showing through. He frowned a little when he noticed that her energy was much different from last he saw her. He didn’t sense anything attached to her though, so he knew it wasn’t from her job. So the next thing he did was the most logical, hopped off the wall and called to her.

Rose jumped, eyes narrowing when she noticed Calum. He frowned at her reaction but continued walking towards her. “Kept my promise, I swear, I’m here on business. Just wanted to say hi, you seem off.” Calum said, holding his hands up as he smiled at her.

“So you don’t have a buddy here keeping tabs on me?” Rose asked. She sounded genuinely curious and it threw Calum off.

“No, is someone following you? You don’t have any attachments. First thing I checked when I saw you and noticed your different energy.”

She scoffed, shaking her head before humming. “No, just being home sweet home can do that to me.”

Calum nodded, eyes now scanning the area for anyone who seemed to be paying them any attention. However it was midmorning in a small town, not too many people had come into town yet. “I’ll get you a coffee and you can talk to me about this guy who’s been following you. Maybe he’s just a human I can scare off.”

Rose was reluctant but nodded, following him into the coffeeshop he’d been sitting outside of. Once they’d ordered and received their breakfast they stepped outside to sit on the patio to eat. They were both quiet for a few minutes, before Calum spoke up. “So being here, brings up some ghosts for you, huh? And even though the kind you’re looking for are present, you’re more worried about the ones from your past?”

Rose swallowed down the lump in her throat that had nothing to do with her breakfast sandwich before nodding. “Yeah, curse of a one stoplight town, huh?” she tried to joke and Calum gave her a sympathetic chuckle, smiling over his coffee cup.

He reached over the table, stilling her fidgeting hand and hummed, concentrating on her energy. “Complicated relationship with mom, and with religion, makes sense, growing up in a town where everyone’s at the same church and they’ve known you since they were changing your diapers. But that’s not all of why your mom and you are having issues…she doesn’t like the ghost hunting does she?”

Rose was just staring at him before she whispered, “Or my hair, or piercings…just everything I’ve done since I turned eighteen in general, why I don’t come back here much.”

He nodded slowly, pulling his hand back, he wasn’t trying to pry. He instead took a long gulp of his coffee. Rose sighed, putting her own coffee down for a moment, “Just…only reason I’m back here is my grandma’s sick, like real sick, so, y’know, in case.” Calum just nodded, squeezing her hand quickly since she’d offered it. Rose sighed as his fingers trailed away, actually meeting Calum’s eyes. “Have a couple months off before we shoot for our next location, though I do have to go back to LA next week, editors noticed that uh, after our encounter with you, all we have on the stationary cam after you drained Matt’s camera battery is a shadowy figure and then snow. So we’ve gotta just do a little explanation of what happened after that, would love to figure out what exactly to say about that if you get the chance.”

Calum sighed, “I didn’t intentionally do that. But when I’m not working, say tomorrow, or something, we can chat about it? I’ll let you know somehow.”

Rose smiled in response and Calum could practically feel her mood lifting throughout their chat. “So, important question,” she started and Calum nodded, having a feeling where she was going, “if you’re a demon, that means that angels are real too.”

Calum smiled and said, “Yeah, some of ‘em are righteous assholes too.” He laughed as he shook his head. “Did get stuck with two for a month quite a few years back and we’ve been friends ever since. Then my best friend has to go and start dating a different one and they’re not too bad either. Do have plans with my buddy Michael this weekend, thanks for reminding me to think about him.”

Rose nodded, humming as she looked around the square, searching for another topic when her eyes landed on someone staring at them. “Don’t be too obvious, but the guy who’s been following me is here.”

Calum just simply grabbed her hand again, closing his eyes and focusing on seeing who she saw. He got an image of a tall man with bleached blonde hair, swept to the side and hidden under a baseball cap, comfy looking white shirt and black pants and he just laughed. “Speak of the angel…” he muttered, turning around in his chair to smile at the figure who he was expecting to still be across the street.

“Fuckin hell man.” Calum said when he practically knocked into his friend as he spun in his chair.

“Kid you’re after saw me and took off down Fifth.” Michael said simply and Calum rolled his eyes.

“Right back then. Don’t talk about anything too important without me.” He winked at Rose and disappeared and Michael took his seat.

Michael looked over awkwardly at Rose, the woman he’d been watching for the past month, on shifts with Luke. “So, see you’ve met my friend.” he started, fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt.

“And you’re not someone he sent to keep an eye on me, nor are you just some creepy human guy following me around.” Rose stated evenly, looking at the blonde.

Michael nodded, “Yeah, Calums not a demon who’s big on attaching to anyone. Your mom was worried about you a month ago and asked for someone to keep an eye on you, and uh, Luke and I got assigned to that…surprisingly Luke is better at being covert than I am.”

Rose hummed, “Guess she was right to be worried. Month ago was my first encounter with our mutual big bad demon.”

Michael bit his lip, nodding slightly. “Look, I love Calum, known him for like maybe fifty years now, he’s got potential to be redeemed if he works towards it, but he’s still a demon, and a powerful one at that. Just…be careful.”

Rose nodded slowly, “I know what I’m dealing with. Think we just happened to run into each other. If it happens again…maybe it’s the universe attaching us, maybe it’s trying to give him that chance you want him to have.” She sighed, shaking her head and grabbing her coffee, “I should probably get going anyway, check on grandma. Nice knowing you’re not a creepy stalker. See you around sometime, yeah?”

Michael laughed softly, nodding before standing and wrapping Rose in a hug. “Stay safe, alright? Think about what I said about Calum.”

Rose thought she could stay in his arms forever, Michael definitely felt safe and she just nodded against his warm chest. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

He smiled and gently ran a hand through her faded hair, giving it back some of its life and color. He released the embrace and watched as she walked off, noticing Luke flying along after her and he hummed, letting the sunbeams fall on his skin while he waited for Calum to come back, mulling over Rose’s statement before she decided to leave.

~~~~~~~~

Calum had had his own talk with Michael after he returned from delivering the young girl back to her mother, disappearing as soon as she dismissed him to go back to the coffeeshop. By that time it was noon and Rose had been long gone, but Michael stayed to give him the whole “you’re great and I love you, but back off this girl” spiel.

There was just something about her though, so Calum left a note in Rose’s mom’s old, single story farmhouse, in the room, Rose grew up in, asking Rose to meet him in the woods that night. If she wanted to, of course. So now he was just sitting on a low tree branch, hanging over the water, hoping she’d show.

Sure enough, there came some soft footfalls in the pine needles behind him and he turned, smiling at Rose. “Dyed your hair again.” he noted and she smiled, shaking her head no.

“Think Michael touched it up, I didn’t do anything.”

He nodded and patted the spot next to him, which she easily took. “So about that new interview. Uh, guess since I didn’t actually show up fully…just kind of say you had made contact with some sort of dark spirit from the portal, it screwed with the equipment, and you three went home and got a cleansing to get rid of it.”

Rose sighed, “But I don’t want to lie about you.”

“Not a whole lie, just the part about the cleansing, right? I promised to leave you guys alone, did that, nothing from there went home with you. Besides, it’s probably better for everyone not to know everything that happened.”

Rose sighed, she knew what Calum had to say was true. “So, other thing, are we going to listen to Michael?”

Calum laughed, feeling the branch shake beneath him as the sound tore through him. “When he talked to me, saying to stay away, he was looking around like ‘just so you can say I did my job.’ But there’s something about you that I don’t think I want to stay away from. Something bigger than you, me, and Michael. Don’t care what happens if you don’t.”

“I’m fine with that.” Rose responded with a smile, leaning closer to Calum and connecting their lips in the gentlest kiss that would be shared by the two that night.

Tags: @irwinkitten @calpops @dammitbands @empathycth @gorgeouslygrace

Ok, so what I’m thinking is doing one more part to this world that was originally just “let’s fuck with Laura” for toxic valentine and having a redemption for our demon boys with the help of Mikey, Luke, Rose, and Angel. Just all the important beings in Calum and Ashton’s lives. That idea hit from my ghost friend and so...we’ll see what happens with that. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Idk, haven’t done author’s notes on shit since high school wattpad days lol. Bye.

#calum hood #calum hood x oc #calum hood 5sos #calum hood 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos #demon!calum #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum x oc #cal #calum hood fluff #calum fluff #is this fluff though?#it's not smut so whatever

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000609 · 6 years ago

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Xeno [ Part 1 ]

Pairing: Winwin x female!reader Genre: Sci-Fi, action, romance, angst; tech!winwin Words: 10k Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, drinking, mentions of character deaths

Summary: It’s the year 2175 and you are on the road for vengeance. In your hopes of taking down one of the biggest corporations currently existing, it is inevitable for you to seek out some help. Even if that means adding Winwin, a narcissistic tech wonder to your team of three. However, you are soon to find out that your near impossible mission might be even harder to pull through than you had initially hoped. Especially when it is revealed everyone in your team is hiding secrets that might be vital to the success of your revenge. Winwin maybe hiding the biggest one of all.

[ A/N: My first series! It is all based on the concept of WayV’s Take Off. Enjoy. ]

At 11:30pm the room was still as silent as it had been for the past three weeks.

The high level of security that Mr. Choi had been promised for the room had by this time still fulfilled its great purpose to keep all intruders out without failing the man of the residence a single time. The room and current home of security cam. 24I8D9A was still as untouched as ever, exactly how Mr. Choi had strived for it to be.

However, the seconds were ticking dangerously close to 11:31, a chime of the hour that Mr. Choi would later carry with him to his own grave.

At 11:30 the room was still as silent as it had been for the past three weeks. At 11:31, that changed.

In the footage of security cam. 24I8D9A, it all started with a subtle movement in the upper right corner. The movement was quick and even though the camera had been sold to Mr. Choi with the guarantee that it was one of the best in the market, it still had a hard time catching the first action that had occurred in the room in three weeks.

If you were to play back the footage and slow it down, you’d see a gloved hand emerge from the air ventilation and drop something, barely bigger than one's pinkie, down on the floor. Now, if the security had been as good as it supposedly been promised to be, the movement detectors covering the room would have picked up both the thing falling to the ground and the hand that released it and thus resulting in Mr. Choi immediately finding out that he had an unwanted visitor.

However, as the black thing hit the ground, the only disturbance in the room was the slight flicker in 24I8D9A’s footage.

After what seemed like a long time, but according to the footage was only five seconds, the grill of the air ventilation was suddenly removed from its place up on the right corner of the ceiling, two hands clad in leather gloves holding it with a steady grip.

Slowly and steadily, more and more of the intruder currently residing in the air vent emerged. At first it was just the arms, still holding the grill with a strong grip as to not drop it straight down on the wooden floor and create a sound that would most likely lead to the attention of the residents in the house, something that for this dark clad creature was presumably most unwanted seeing as they were coming through the air ventilation rather than, let’s say the door. The arms were quickly followed by a head though the identity of the dark figure was still kept unknown for the camera by the dark mask covering the lower half of their face.

However, you didn’t need to see the face to understand that this person carried enough skill and determination to break in almost anywhere, this place no exception.

The dark figure continued crawling out of the air vent until only their shins were still hidden. By this point, the intruder was hanging upside down with only the help of the hollow of their knees still keeping them from falling face first on to the floor.

Slowly and surely, the person started to swing their body back and forth until they had picked up enough speed to reach the antique, red couch placed on the left of the air vent. With one last swing, the intruder suddenly dropped the grill on to the soft and, above all quiet surface before swinging back and in one swift and quick move, raised their hands to the opposite side of the air vent while releasing the calfs and with a tight grip on the vent swung back, this time with the hold of their hands. With one last smooth move, the person let go of the vent, landing with an easy jump on their feet, no security whatsoever going off.

The intruder wasted no time on celebrating the successful infiltration, instead, they started to make their way to the other side of the screen where a desk and a computer was placed. Someone, most likely Mr. Choi, had loved the idea of placing his collection of antique vases and statues around the room in places that called for disaster and broken porcelain. However, the intruder easily managed to navigate through the collection with only a quick glance on the brown vase that Mr. Choi loved but others usually found questionable, reaching the computer in no time.

From inside their dark jacket, the person pulled out what from the angle of 24I8D9A looked like a hard drive and a mobile device called Qu. The intruder started pressing on the keyboard of the computer, waking it to life. By the way the leather-clad fingers quickly moved over the keys, it was fair to say that they knew what they were doing here too.

The Qu laying on the desk suddenly pinged with an incoming call, making the eyes of the person leave the screen for a quick second to press answer. ”I made it to the office. All clear?”

Cam. 24I8D9A weren’t able to pick up on who it was calling, most likely due to the Qu being wired to an earpiece worn by the intruder. It is only the muffled voice of the dark figure now back pressing on the keyboard that can be heard. ”The airways are cleared. It’s a tight fit, you’ll probably have to take off your jacket.”

The call ended quickly after the few words and the intruder shifted all their focus back on going through the computer. This went on for fifty-six seconds, according to the footage, until something once again stirred in the upper left corner.

The dark figure by the computer barely paid it any attention, however, still focused on the task of the screen as another dark figure suddenly emerged from the air vent. This one was taller and broader and as they squeezed their way out of the air vent, it was clear that the person who arrived here first was the one who did all things that required smoothness in the moves.

The second intruder stumbled when he reached the ground, almost knocking one off the antiques over. However, to his luck, he narrowly missed it and quickly regained composure. The first intruder was still typing away as the second one started to make his way around the room, pulling on the leather jacket that the first intruder had advised him to take off.

The second intruder seemed to have some time over, taking time to slowly circle around the antiques and to scrutinize them closely. Some seemed to interest him more than others - including the brown vase - and he lifted a gloved hand to drag it across the glassed surface.

”Look, there’s a dick on this one.” The intruder was dragging a hand over a third vase when he suddenly spoke, his voice low.

The first intruder looked up from the computer, their eyes twisting into a frown when they saw what the other was doing and where his hand was placed. ”Don’t touch everything.” They said before looking down at the computer again.

The second one only shrugged as he lifted his hand from the vase and slowly started to walk over to where to first one was standing. He stopped right behind them, curiously looking down on the screen of the computer, something that seemed to bother the first one as they turned to glance over their shoulder. ”I told you I can’t work when you look.”

If the lower half of his face wasn’t hidden by a mask, you could guess that his mouth probably turned into a pout as he averted his eyes from the screen, slowly turning around to examine the painting hung behind the computer.

”Time check?” The first one asked as they continued vigorously typing.

When the second one didn’t answer, still staring at the painting, the first one curiously turned around to see what it was that had caught the attention of their companion. The painting was maybe what carried most value in the room, though in this case emotional value - something not appreciated by the first intruder as they rolled their eyes upon seeing the motive of the painting. ”Vases with dicks and painted portraits of himself together with his family, the man doesn’t know what to spend money on.” The person said as they turned back towards the computer.

The second one shrugged as he looked down at the watch around his wrist. ”His daughter is cute. Three minutes left.”

”Try asking her out after we kill her father,” the first intruder pressed one last key before snatching the hard drive and Qu to stuff them inside their jacket again, exchanging the devices for a pistol in black, sleek steel. ”Three minutes, let’s go.”

Something seemed to shift in the air around the intruders, their postures growing almost rigid as they started to make their way to the door both with raised guns in their hands. Even though the posture and demeanor had changed, none of the confidence had been lost and the strides towards the door were presumptuous and smooth. But in the air around them it was almost like it had dawned that as soon as they left that door, they were going to take a life. From cam. 24I8D9A it was hard to tell whether or not they seemed to enjoy that feeling.

Though with three minutes being left of whatever time restrains the two had, there was obviously no time to reminisce in feelings. Instead, they kicked open the door, disappearing from the footage of the security camera at the last seconds of 11:38pm.

What followed were only muffled sounds coming from the footage, the sound of shouting and a hand clad in leather repeatedly hitting skin and bone. The last thing that could be heard before an eerie silence fell in the residence of Mr. Choi, was the sound of one last cry before a pulled trigger.

But the interesting content of the footage doesn’t end just yet.

At 11:41, three minutes after the two intruders had left the room, the alarm system Mr. Choi so wholeheartedly had relaid upon started blaring. Though it was all to no use.

The intruders had already left the building, leaving the owner of security cam. 24I8D9A dead.

The blood was still wet on your knuckles when you felt the first breeze of fresh air graze the parts of your face that wasn’t covered by the dark mask. It was nearing midnight and even though the alley was well secluded from the life of the city, you could still feel the excitement and eagerness for what the night would offer pulsate through the air.

You couldn’t deny that the excitement in the air had an effect on you too, your steps being light while walking further into the alley. The boy behind you must have been excited too because he was whistling a happy tune as he followed your steps.

Though business was still far from finished, you let yourself relax for a short moment to deeply breathe in the air of the city. You had never experienced a life outside off the busy streets of this town, but like most people in this city, there was no need too. It often felt like the entire world lingered in the crooks and corners of this place. But there was no time to feel sentimental really, so instead, you filled your lungs with one last deep breath of the night air before you reached into your jacket for your Qu. The screen of the device was old and no longer lit up when it met your face, something most well-working Qu’s did. So instead you had to violently shake yours until the screen woke up.

With a quick flick of your thumb the documents that you had managed to obtain lined up on the screen. The pulse of the city slowly disappeared as you shifted your focus to your findings. Back to business. You pulled down the mask covering your mouth as you cleared your throat. ”Did you remove all traces?” The boy behind you stopped whistling to snort at your question.

”I’m not an amateur.” He said as he walked past you to the vehicle parked in the shadows a few meters away, his steps still light and confident.

You had to stop for a moment to scroll through the last document, confirming that all the information you needed was there and that all files were intact. The job had been all done.

You stuffed the Qu back in your pocket as you walked over to Lucas. There was really no way to describe him other than your co-worker, though that sounded awfully mundane compared to the work you two did together. He was just like you dressed in all black leather, a mask similar to your own hanging around his neck and his short hair tousled from the hood he had worn throughout the mission. You watched as he pulled out a helmet from the sleek, black motorcycle still partly hidden in the shadows. ”I’m just making sure. I heard you used to work with 12W.”

Through the darkness, you could see Lucas tense at the mention of the name. ”Jungwoo knew what he was doing.”

This time it was your turn to snort. ”Yeah, and that’s why he’s currently stuck in the outer ring. He got caught because of a fingerprint Lucas.”

”Whatever,” He said and handed the helmet to you. ”Is the work done?”

You patted your Qu laying in your jacket. ”I have everything. They’ll most likely get a notice in a few minutes and if they decide to look for us, they’re gonna assume we escaped by foot,” You pulled the helmet over your head before you pulled up the visor to meet Lucas’s eyes. ”I say we take the main streets.”

Lucas only nodded as he in one, smooth move got on the motorcycle and kicked up the side stand as you - not as gracefully as Lucas - got on behind him while pulling down the visor again. You patted his back as an indication that you were ready and with a roar, the motorcycle underneath you was woken up to life.

Before you even had time to blink, the strong motors of the vehicle sent you flying out from the darkness of the alley and onto the main street bustling with life. The pinks and blues of the big led screens decorating the tall buildings lining the road reflected on your visor and as Lucas easily navigated through cars and people, you let the commercials and the strong winds calm you down.

Even though you had dealt with similar missions before - eight to be exact - the adrenaline still left you tired. Your joints were aching after maneuvering the tight air ventilation and your ears were still ringing after the pulled trigger. However, the pain was still an equally as big reminder as the documents in your Qu that you were moving forward with your plan, and that certainly left you satisfied.

As Lucas made a sharp left turn, forcing a taxi to step on its breaks, the bustling of the main street thinned out as you turned into a smaller road. The apartments on this street were older than the ones out on the road that you just came from, the bottom of the apartments occupied by bars and restaurants. Even though the aroma of liquor and food lured many people onto this street, the colors of the led screens still hanging above the restaurants made the place appear hollow. The shadows cast on the street made it easy to hide and so with the darkness and the smell of food, it was really no question that this part of town was your favorite.

Lucas made another turn into a small alley between two restaurants. The kitchen door to an Udon place was propped open by a crate and you could smell the food even through your helmet as the motorcycle slowed down until it eventually came to a complete halt. As Lucas turned off the growling engine, the chatter coming from the restaurant and the busy street behind you filled the air.

With tired limbs, you climbed off from the motorcycle as you took off the helmet on your head. ”You coming in?” You asked and dragged a hand through your hair before handing the helmet back to Lucas.

”Nah, I got some stuff to do.” He said without meeting your eyes and pulled the helmet over his own head.

You only shrugged as you walked backward, away from the vehicle to give him space to turn around and leave. ”I’ll send you the payment tonight.”

Lucas only sent you a small salute before he turned on the loud motor again and in the blink of an eye disappeared down the alley and into the lively night, only leaving a cloud of dust where you were standing.

You sighed as you walked towards the fire escape by the propped up kitchen door. The smell of onion coming from the restaurant was strong as you stopped right beneath the rusty ladder and looked up at it. You slightly bent your knees before gathering all energy that you had left to jump up and grab hold of the cold, hard metal before heaving one foot followed by the other onto the first step of the ladder.

You quickly patted your jacket to make sure your devices were still there. The documents - or the Xeno WeXz files as you more formally liked to call them - in there were worth millions, though that wasn’t really the reason you were trying to obtain every trace of the files currently in your Qu. No, greed wasn’t what was making you destroy all traces of the files, even if that meant putting a bullet through someone's head. To you, the content and information in the Xeno WeXz files were all personal and there was no way middle-aged and money hungry men were going to get a hand on them and later show them to the entire world. Not when you knew the destruction it would cause if they did.

As you got on the first level of the fire escape, you shook out the stiffness in your arms after the long day as you continued walking up the stairs to the top floor of the apartment. When you reached the very last window, you squeezed in your fingers under the frame and with a stubborn grunt pulled it up, allowing you to climb in through the window.

The blood on your knuckles was dry by the time you placed both feet on the wooden floor of what you called home. It wasn’t exactly a place you had spent enough time in to make any real personal attachment to it, but you couldn’t deny the slight comfort it brought to at least have a place you could change shirts in. The apartment was dark except for the light of the led screens outside, shining in through the line of windows facing the street with the restaurants and bars, casting an eerie glow on the sparse furniture in the room.

Someone suddenly cleared their throat and as you looked towards the small, wooden dining table placed in the middle of the room, you weren’t exactly surprised to see Ten sitting on a chair with his feet up on the table. ”And here she is, making her way through the window instead of the front door.”

”Ah, my weasel made it.” You said as you walked towards the table while taking off your bloodstained leather gloves. The feeling of air against the skin of your hands was freeing and you moved your fingers to stretch them out after having them being stuck in the leather most of the day.

”You know, every time you call me that I always get a little more disappointed to see you still alive.” Ten cocked his head to the side as he watched you attentively.

You stopped in front of him and reached out to flick his leather boots still propped up on your dining table. Ten got the memo and slowly moved his legs away from the wooden surface and down on the floor. ”So nice to see you too, Ten.”

Ten only shook his head as you threw down the gloves on the table in front of him and made your way to the small kitchen in one of the corners of the apartment. A weasel was exactly what he was and you both knew it, his title already proven from the very first moment you met him.

At your first encounter, Ten had been located at the exact same spot he was at this very moment - at your dining table with his feet propped up on it, except that first time he had been a total stranger inside your own home. He had known everything about you, things you hadn’t told anyone, your backstory, your routines and most importantly, your hunger for vengeance. Ten knew you needed help and he was interested enough in you to give it to you for free.

At first, you had doubted him, naturally, but you were quick to find out that Ten knew everything about everyone and that no-one knew anything about him. When a person with knowledge and coverage like that offers his help, you can’t exactly say no.

He had helped you with everything on your road to vengeance. How to go get hold of the right weapons, how and when to approach your victims and how you would get away from there unnoticed. He was even the one who had hooked you up with Lucas.

You didn’t carry much appreciation towards people, but the small ounce you did carry were all towards the man currently sitting at your dining table.

”I’m guessing this is the blood of Mr. Choi.” Ten said and picked up one of your gloves as you grabbed the only cup in your kitchen cabinet to fill it with water.

”No, one of his guards,” You walked over to the table and placed down the water in front of Ten before you sat down on the chair across from him, lifting your feet so that they rested on top the table. ”The only place you’ll find Mr. Choi’s blood is on the security cameras that watched me put a bullet through his head.”

”Cruel,” he said with a smile. ”I see that Lucas didn’t make it.”

”No, he rushed off. Said he had somewhere to be.”

Ten took a sip from the cup in front of him. ”Probably off to do some more dirty work to scrape up the money he needs to bail out his lover boy from the outer ring.”

You had never heard anything about a lover boy. To be fair, you and Lucas had early on in your alliance decided that neither of you would share anything personal from your lives. Strictly business, that way it wouldn’t hurt if the other one got killed during a mission. Though you couldn’t deny the fact that Ten’s words got you curious. ”Who?” You asked.

Ten furrowed his brows in confusion as if he thought you already knew. ”12W.”

”Oh.” So you had heard of him.

”You’re the one who pays him the best though if that feeds your ego in any way.”

”Ah, now I’ll sleep real’ well tonight.” You snickered as you pulled out the Qu from inside of your jacket, reminded that you should send the payment over to Lucas. Especially if he needed it.

”Did you get all the right documents?”

You only nodded, focused on the device in your hand and that the right amount of money got sent over to Lucas.

”Can I see them?”

Ten was staring at you when you looked up at him with a frown. He already knew the answer to that question. ”Absolutely not.”

”Come on,” he said and leaned forward towards you. ”You must understand that I’m curious about what this is all really about.”

You sighed, tired of the same discussion you always had. ”You know I’m not giving you any more details, those are strictly between me and WeXz. This relationship-” you said gesturing between you and Ten. ”Is solely work-based and therefore is only supposed to be about you telling me where I can find them, not me telling you why I want to find them.”

Ten raised his hands into the air and sighed in defeat as he leaned back in his chair again. He looked out through the windows as he changed the subject. ”One left before the final boss-”

”That’s one way to call him.”

”This one is going to be easy,” Ten said, pulling up his own, more modern, Qu from his pocket. It lit up in his face and he pressed on it a couple of times before he turned it towards you. The document pulled up on the device showed a picture of a middle-aged man in the middle of getting out of a car. His round face and receding hairline were clear even though the photo seemed to be taken from a roof. Now you knew exactly what the face of your next victim looked like. Ten continued. ”His name is Bai Zhong. Ninth sponsor of the Xeno WeXz files.”

”Why are you saying this one is the easiest? Shouldn’t he be expecting me?” You scrolled to the next document where all the information of Bai Zhong was neatly lined up. From where he was born to where he was supposed to die.

”This man is dumber than a sack of hammers. Apparently, the WeXz headquarters transmitted warnings to him three weeks ago that he should be on the lookout, but unlike Mr. Choi, he just laughed them off. He probably thinks that awful hairline of his will save him,” Ten said as you pushed the Qu towards him, having finished scrolling through the documents. ”We’ll see if he laughs when he realizes that it will only give you a bigger target to put a bullet through.”

”I shall tell you if he laughs,” You said and closed your eyes as you leaned back in the chair and rested your hands behind your head. ”send over the documents before you leave.”

”Actually, this fine man isn’t the primary reason why I came to talk to you. We need to talk about the brain jacker.”

”So that is what we call him now. Brain jacker,” You opened your eyes to squint at Ten. ”I liked final boss better. It makes me feel like more of a hero. Besides, I need to clear this man first.” You lowered your hand and motioned to the Qu in Ten’s hand.

”Yes, of course. But the brain jacker’s sponsors are dropping like flies. He isn’t as clueless as Bai Zhong, he’s a smart man who’s guard is going to be all the way up, if it isn’t already. Judging by the warnings coming from HQ I would say he’s right at this moment tightening all security around the rest of the Xeno files and himself.”

You sighed as you sat up straight in the chair again, your boots meeting the floor with a heavy clonk. What Ten was saying wasn’t exactly news to you. You already knew that the brain jacker would be tightening all the security, something he had probably started to do the moment he learned about your existence. ”Ten, you’re not here to tell me the obvious. How do you suggest I get to him?”

”You need to extend your team.”

You raised your eyebrows. The thought of adding another one to your team of two had never crossed your mind. You and Lucas worked great together. Got shit done. Not a single major inconvenience had occurred during your last eight missions together. But Ten was right, the brain jacker or final boss or whatever he should be called did require a bigger team. ”I feel like you already have someone in mind.”

Ten smiled at you as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. ”I do. Real name is Dong Sicheng, goes by Winwin.”

”That’s a nickname that cuts to the point. What’s his deal?”

”He’s what you would call a tech wonder, knows how to get through everything without anyone finding out that he was there. He has robbed countless companies from valuable information without any of them noticing that he was even in their system until one week after. The brain jacker’s security system won’t be a problem for him.”

”He must be scared about the fact that you know about him.” You said as you pondered Ten’s words.

Ten shrugged. ”Doesn’t even know I exist.”

”Of course.” Ten was a weasel after all. You sighed as you tried to think through what the right decision would be.

You knew enough about coding to get through sloppily constructed firewalls made by engineers under time pressure. But the brain jacker didn’t do things poorly, especially not when it came to security around his pride and joy, you knew that better than anyone. Your knowledge wouldn’t be enough to clear this mission, not even the devices you’d bought in an underground tech house, that infiltrated the security in a room and shut it off for ten minutes would help you. It had worked at Mr. Choi’s place but it would not work at the brain jacker’s. And besides, if you requited Winwin, that would mean you and Lucas could focus on taking down his human guards.

You looked over at Ten who was smiling knowingly, like he already knew your decision. ”I’ll send over the details of where you can find him.”

”Anything more I should know about him?” After all, you were going to saunter up to a boy who didn’t think anyone knew he existed. Precautions would be helpfull.

Ten squinted as if he was trying to remember the information he had gathered about Winwin. ”From what I understand he’s a complete narcissist.”

You gaped at him. ”Do you think a narcissist will be a good addition to my team right at the final boss?”

Ten rolled his eyes as he got on his feet while stuffing down the Qu in his pocket. ”Winwin’s the only who can get through the system. Consider it a… fun practice to put trust in someone.”

You only sighed as Ten walked past you towards the window. ”Did you come in through the window?” You asked, making sure that he hadn’t broken your one rule of entering this place.

”Yes and I’ll leave through it too.”

”Good,” you said as you looked through the windows at the commercial for the latest Qu playing on the led screens. ”Bye Ten.”

He didn’t answer, instead the last sound you heard from him was when he pulled down the window after getting out, leaving the apartment in complete silence. You sighed, trying to take in the conversation with Ten.

It made sense, everything about what he had said. Your whole life would depend on the day you finally took down the final boss. Nothing for you even existed besides that man, therefore it was no question that it would completely destroy you if anything went wrong. As soon as you put that bullet through his head, the destruction he had caused and was still causing would be justified.

You took out your Qu and shook it a few times to get it to light up before you opened the documents. The Xeno WeXz files.

The carefully structured blueprints and documents piled with information filled the screen and you couldn’t help the shiver you always felt when you looked at them. You were staring at WeXz plans to create a prison in human form.

WeXz was a company that had been formed right at the start of the technology evolutionism society. When the world had reached that point where it realized that everything could be carried on automation and machinery, rather than the more living creatures. In the technology evolutionism society, it was no longer about the human, more of what device would make your living as unproblematic and easy as possible. That was when WeXz had spread its wings and completely revolutionized.

Over the years as more money had gotten in the hands of the corporation, WeXz had transformed from a household name that created devices for everyone to use, to more of a research enterprise that always tried to be one step ahead of what new technology could be created to revolutionize.

During that extensive change, a man called Biming had stepped into the doors of WeXz with a crazy yet millions-worth idea. Biming had discovered how to create androids. Androids with an insane AI system that would make them almost identical to a human. They dreamt, they thought, they reacted.

When Biming propositioned his idea and creation, money signs had immediately gone off in the eyes of WeXz and in the matter of just one month, Biming had his own research team that together started a classified development of the android who had by then been given the name Xeno.

Things went well for Biming and whether you’d like to admit it or not, he was certainly a brilliant man. He was making incredible progress with his idea and in a matter of just two years, Biming had created his first working Xeno. But he hadn’t thought about it all the way, maybe to ecstatic over the idea of seeing his first true creation in front of his two eyes. Even though Biming still had control over his new creature when it still laid on the workbench in front of him, the moment he pressed the power button, that changed.

You didn’t know what Biming had expected. If he honestly thought he would be able to control an AI system so powerful it gave the illusion of there being a humanly beating heart inside its chest instead of metal and wires. Even though he liked to believe it, Biming wasn’t God. He had been wrong. Instead of creating a revolutionary idea that would have really defined the core idea of what the technology evolutionism society was all about, Biming had created a monster. A monster who couldn’t feel any pain.

Biming first realized this himself when he brought in the first human test subject to work together with the Xeno. Instead of a cordial and working relationship developing between a human and machine that day, Biming had cluelessly set up a blood bath.

That day human blood was spilled on the floor of the lab. It had all happened so quickly, but the after effect would be carved into the walls of the WeXz research department for a long time. After all, one real human life had fallen into the hands of Biming and the Xeno.

It took some spilled blood for the developers to understand that the Xeno couldn’t be controlled. After the failed test with the human subject, the Xeno escaped out from the quarantine it had been locked into, killing every single researcher in Biming’s team on its way out.

190 lives were lost that day.

And you were one of the ones who mourned the people whos’ blood was spilled that day.

When you - one year later - found out that Biming was still alive and still convinced that his idea about the Xeno would be revolutionary and that he was still ready to do anything in his power to get it to work, having redesigned the model and was currently looking for sponsors to support his crazy idea, you swore you were going to avenge the man.

The Xeno was dangerous and you were going to do everything in your power to stop his idea from ever leaving the WeXz headquarters and allowing the rest of society to find out about its existence.

You were doing good so far, having killed eight of the ninth sponsors and taken control of all the files Biming, or brain jacker or simply asshole had sent out. Now, there were two left. Bai Zhong and the brain behind it all himself.

Biming worked with a big corporation that had all the resources to protect his precious Xeno and himself from your vengeance. He knew you were after him and the only way you could get a hold of him was whether you liked it or not, to recruit the narcissist to your team.

As if Ten had heard you think about it, your Qu suddenly pinged with a new message from him.

When you followed the address Ten had sent you, you didn’t expect to end up in front of a bar.

The prejudice you carried had made you think that maybe you would find Winwin’s secret layer in one of the abandoned warehouses outside of town or in one of the dark apartments near the outer ring. Your prejudice did not think, however, that you’d be looking for Winwin in a small bar called Chrome Eon located in the middle of the city, packed with people who were drinking and dancing the night away.

The neon lights and cigarette smoke surrounding the bar made you wrinkle your nose for a moment, but if this was the place Winwin usually hung out, you weren’t one to judge. Instead, you crossed the street and walked towards the bar. The place was crammed with people and the heat and music hit you before you even crossed the threshold.

As you pushed by the first pair of people with drinks high in the air, you quickly realized that you stuck out like a sour thumb. Still dressed in the leather attire from the mission earlier that same night, you didn’t really blend in with the others who wore skin-tight dresses and shirts made out of silk.

You could only hope that there wasn’t any blood left on your clothes or face as you pushed your way further into the bar, the bass pulsating through your body more and more the deeper you got.

Ten hadn’t provided you with a picture of how Winwin looked, so you were left hopelessly scanning the place and the faces surrounding you in case you saw something that looked suspicious or downright screamed tech wonder. However, Winwin wasn’t a guy that liked to stand out you guessed, so your chances of finding him felt small.

You tried to push your way to the bar lined against one of the walls, ignoring the weird looks cast your way as you looked for someone you could at least ask if they’ve seen some professional tech guy roaming around.

You were just about to call down to the bartender when you noticed someone sitting alone at a table pushed into one of the corners of the bar, staring right at you. The stare of the only occupant at the table was different from the others in the bar, this one looked at you knowingly. When you turned to stare back, you realized that you recognized the man at the table.

You vaguely remembered his name being Kun. He was the one you always visited at the black market, the one who sold you the black, small devices you often used during missions that did the impossible, they turned off all security system for ten minutes, something that had come in hand countless of times during your missions. Kun knew his way around technology development, so maybe he knew about Winwin too.

You held his gaze as you walked towards him, slightly raising your eyebrows as you got close. ”I didn’t know you existed outside of the black market.”

Kun shrugged. ”Could say the same about you,” he leaned back as you stopped in front of the table. ”Though this place is almost the same as the market.”

You didn’t understand what he meant seeing as you had never been here before, didn’t even know it existed. You leaned forward and placed your hands on top of the table. ”You hang out here often?”

Kun shrugged again as he reached for the drink in front of him and raised it to his lips. ”I come and go.”

”Then you might know where I can find Winwin.” You said just as Kun was about to take a sip, making him choke on the liquid.

He placed down the drink violently on the table as he coughed. ”Excuse me?” He said through his gasps.

You just stared at him as he coughed a couple of more times before regaining his composure, clearing his throat. ”You heard me.”

Kun met your eyes and for a moment it was silent. It was obvious that he knew who you were talking about, the question was only if he would tell you. Kun looked down at his drink again as if he was contemplating either whether or not to he should tell you or if he should risk it and take another sip, hopefully without choking this time. He looked up at you again as he reached for the glass. ”He’s not in tonight.” And that was the last thing he said before he downed the last of the liquid in the glass, pushed out the chair from the table and stood up to leave.

You didn’t turn to look at him as he walked past you and disappeared into the crowd of people. Even though you hadn’t found Winwin, at least you knew that he was here somewhere and you couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips. ”Alright.” You mumbled before you turned around to push through the people and leave the same way you came.

Chrome Eon looked different during the day.

From your position in the shadows of an alley right across the bar, it looked less… intimidating. The daylight made it appear mundane, not like the towns most notorious tech engineer would be somewhere around it.

But that was also the problem, see, you had no idea where you could find Winwin at this place. There was barely a human seen within the 50-meter radius of the place, except for you and a girl clad in the bartender uniform who only went out to receive a delivery of bottles you guessed was alcohol. You had seen her leave through a side door after that, disappearing before you could even think to ask her.

Frustration was staring to fill your body. You couldn’t find Winwin during the night and you couldn’t find him during the day. Kun was your only lead so far, but he had not been at the black market when you went to look earlier and neither had you seen any trace of him here. Where the hell would you find this guy?

Your Qu suddenly buzzed inside your pocket and you reached for it, without moving your eyes from the building across from you.

You sighed as you read Ten’s message. He was right, your patience was next to zero, but you just didn’t know what to do. Going any nearer the bar during midday could lead to some much-unwanted attention, something you really didn’t need a couple of days before you took down WeXz biggest current possible resource. The biggest chance you had off finding Winwin while not adverting attention to yourself was probably to return to Chrome Eon during its open hours in the night.

You turned around to walk further into the alley, away from the bar, when you suddenly heard the faint sound of propelling wings. The sound was coming from above you but when you looked up, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the harsh daylight, you couldn’t see anything.

You slowly started to walk backward further into the alley as you strained your eyes on the sky, your other hand slowly reaching for the gun hidden under your black jacket. And then you saw it. It was only a quick sight at first. If it wasn’t for your guard being up and on the lookout, you probably would have missed the black metal and wings of the small drone circling the edge of one of the buildings next to you.

Drones were common in the city, often used for delivery and transportation, so in most common cases there would be no reason for you to be suspicious. However, this one was different. First of all, you had never seen this model before. Drones were often heavily commercialized throughout the led screens in the city so it wasn’t hard to remember what drones you could find on the market. This one though, you had never seen. As you caught a glimpse of it again, you noticed that this one was more sleek and quiet, probably equipped with a motor that wasn’t supposed to be heard by the human ears and therefore worked as a great espionage tool.

And that was all the confirmation you needed. Ten had been right about Chrome Eon after all, almost as if his recent message had lured out the subject.

You had found Winwin, and he had clearly found you too.

You couldn’t help the wicked smile forming on your lips as you lifted your jacket and grabbed the Glock underneath it. Slowly and surely you lifted it to the sky, the air around you growing still as you listened after the propelling of wings and waited for the drone to circle back into your sight again.

And then you saw it once again. Without hesitation you pulled the trigger, your smile widening at the sound of the bullet meeting metal. The drone flew to the ground, crashing into pieces a few meters away from you with a sound echoing in the alley that made it clear that the drone had seen its last day.

You lifted your hand and blew the metal pieces laying scattered on the ground a kiss, before you turned around and walked away from there, the smile still wide and wicked on your lips.

That night, as you walked into Chrome Eon once again, you tried to enjoy yourself a bit more.

The bass wrapped around you the minute you stepped a foot into the bar and you threw your head back with a smile as it filled your body. There were people all around you, pressing into you from all sides as they danced to the music with glasses of alcohol lifted high into the air.

You slowly made your way further into the bar as you swayed to the music. It had been a long time since you had actually gone out like this. Not that you were going out just for pleasure, this was still somewhat a mission, but you still allowed yourself to relish the excitement circling in the air.

This time people didn’t stare as much, and if they did it was for an entirely different reason. The dress sitting tight on your body matched the sensuous atmosphere of the people in Chrome Eon together with the red color of your lips turned up into a pleased grin.

You didn’t look around for Winwin, there was no need to, instead you headed straight to the bar and sat down on one of the free stools lining it. Then you waited.

Winwin knew that you were here, something you were sure of after you shot down that drown. You had found him, now it was his move to find you.

You looked around at the people crammed into every corner of the bar as the music grew louder and louder. There was no-one you recognized here, Kun nowhere to be found and neither did you see anyone that matched what you imagined Winwin would look like. However, when you suddenly saw a girl in one of the corners staring right at you, you grew slightly wary.

She was looking at you intensively, like she already knew who you were. You did not recognize here at all though and you frowned as she kept staring. Just as you were about to walk over to her, the Qu in your hand buzzed, distracting you from the stare of the girl.

As you looked down at the device you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips. You had received what was supposed to look like a normal message from an unknown number, but the cryptic line indicating the messenger along with the flickering that broke out on your device as you clicked on the message made it very clear that someone had hacked into your device and put it there. It was a great method to leave a message without being able to track the person behind it, however, you didn’t have to track anything to know that it was Winwin. He was needless to say quite predictable. You opened the message as your screen slightly flickered, it was too old to handle cryptically delivered messages like this one.

You stared down at the screen as you waited for Winwin to answer. He must have been pondering what the right answer was because he was taking forever. You guessed that he was a scared bastard, really meticulous in his moves as to make sure he wouldn’t blow it. It was too late though, you thought, you already knew who he was. You sighed as you typed in another message.

The flickering suddenly stopped and you guessed he must have left your phone. It took every willpower in your body as to not scream out in frustration as you slammed down the Qu on the bar in front of you. You had lost him. Again.

So what do you do now? Do you try going to the black market again to see if Kun has returned from his hideout or do you beg Ten to find more information about Winwin, preferably an actual picture of his face? You were in the middle of pondering all this when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder. At first, you remembered the girl that had been staring at you and thought that it must be her, but when you quickly turned around on the stool you came face to face with Kun.

He was wearing a deep frown as he looked at your Qu lying on the bar behind you before he looked over at you, his eyes skimming the dress and your red lips before he met your eyes, his frown turning into a scowl. He sure seemed to be in a friendly mood.

”Come with me.” He said and nodded his head to the side.

Now it was your turn to frown. ”I’m sorry, what?”

”You wanted to talk face to face. Come.” He sighed impatiently. Wait, was he Winwin? It would’ve made sense with the well-made devices he always sold in the black market and how he had avoided your question about Winwin the day before. But still, something told you that this was the wrong guy.

You turned around to grab your phone and slowly slid off the stool. As Kun started to push through the crowds of people, you discreetly moved a hand over the skirt of your dress to make sure the Glock was still hidden underneath it before you followed him.

The two of you suddenly approached a door hidden by the wall of toilets, the text Personnel only scribbled across it. Kun didn’t even hesitate as he pushed it open, revealing a long, dark corridor with crates filled with bottles pushed along the walls. As the door fell shut behind you - the sound of music and chatter immediately growing distant - you wondered where he was taking you. If he took you back here to kill you, you figured you stood a better chance against him. Sure, he was tall and broad, but by the way he was leading you down the corridor, you could tell by his stiff stance that he didn’t have training beyond firing a gun with a fifty-percent chance of it hitting the target. So if that was the case, he was leading himself to his own death.

As the two of you were about to reach the end of the corridor, Kun suddenly stopped, almost making you bump into his back. He cast a glance over his shoulder as if to make sure you were still following him, before he reached beside him to a door that had suddenly appeared by your left. The door was made out of hard metal and judging by the code lock and the very unambiguous sign saying Keep Out, it was clear that this was a door not just anyone came and went through.

Kun stepped in front of you as to block the code lock and you heard him quickly press in a long line of numbers before something clicked inside the door which allowed him to swiftly open it. You glanced over his shoulder through the door and saw a long set of stairs leading downwards. At the bottom of the stairs, you noted yet another door identical to the one you were currently standing in front of.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the palpable safety measures hidden at the back of this bar. Whoever you were about to see was clearly not someone a lot of people had the acquaintance of meeting. You had no idea how Ten had even gotten hold of this guy.

Kun started walking down the stairs, his heavy feet echoing in the stairwell as you followed him once again. As the two of you reached the bottom you noted that this door did not have a code lock, instead, Kun raised his hand and knocked rapidly. Almost before Kun had even managed to finish knocking, the door suddenly swung open.

The darkness of the staircase was suddenly filled with glows of purple, yellow and green, mixed together with the sound of a soft and low hum, like the fan of an old computer. You had a hard time grasping what had suddenly appeared in front of you, and you hadn’t even set a foot inside the room yet. Wherever Kun had led you, it was like a sudden goldmine.

Kun cast yet another glance over his shoulder as he walked into the room, leaving you still standing in the stairwell trying to take in all the colors that had suddenly wrapped around you. You barely registered Kun looking over at someone and nodding in your direction as he said, ”She’s here.”

Carefully, you moved your hand over the Glock again as you took a couple of careful steps into the room. You didn’t want to appear like you were caught off guard by the hidden room, but you couldn’t help but to look all around you and take it all in as you left the stairs behind.

The room was rather big, however, the number of wires and spare parts lying scattered on the floor and on desks placed around the room, made it appear small. Against one wall, the one facing the door was what looked like storage servers filling the room with eerie colors. The servers were pilled upon each other and they were so tall and wide that it almost filled the entire wall.

By another wall, you saw wooden shelves towering high, filled to the brink with what looked like books made with paper, something you hadn’t seen in forever. It left you momentarily speechless and you had to really hold yourself back as to not go over there and look at them.

It took a lot of power to even turn your head away from the shelves, but when you finally managed to do it, you almost grew equally surprised once again. On the other side was a huge workshop desk piled with metal parts and tools, almost no free space left on the desk. However, it wasn’t the desk that left you surprised, it was the man behind it.

He was looking at you with a scowl, his dark gaze moving up and down every inch of your body. The leather jacket across his shoulders hung loose and the long earring dangling from one of his ears caught the light off the storage servers, almost making him appear ghostly. His dark, curly hair laid tousled across his forehead as he raised his head, his eyes not leaving you as his scowl deepened.

There was no question about who this man in front of you was. Your hand moved over the Glock once again.

Hello, Winwin.

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

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overheard-totally-correct-pjo · 5 years ago

Link

First part of my distracting little side project. More of an introduction than anything as of right now, but I have some plans for it. Inspired via a tumblr post by @demigodgooglesearches. Enjoy part one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perseus Brian Jackson hated his life, thank you very much.

He entered the life of gods and monsters at the tender age of twelve. The “deal” was that he would help the gods out in the Big Prophecy that was (probably) about him. If he reached sixteen he’d be out of this life, as much as his godly blood would allow.

Four months later he had been kidnapped by Hera and woke up after half a year of sleeping, without any of his memories. He was forced into another Great Prophecy. He went to Tartarus. He was so very beyond done.

He was going to go to college with his girlfriend in a city that would keep them safe from the monsters, and the legion would take care of any quests. Retired at seventeen.

Then came the Roman Emperors that never actually died, and have been festering under the surface for hundreds of years.

The third war Percy lived through dragged on until he turned twenty-three. He didn’t finish college, though Annabeth did. He didn’t see the point--he just wanted to go home to his mom and little sister. He’d help with CHB, probably. Annabeth was with him. He was...he was going to be fine. Eventually.

And, for awhile, he was. He and Annabeth got married. They had a pregnancy scare. He helped kids get to-and-from camp and their families for the holidays, or for the school year, or for the first journey to camp. He cleaned the rivers and oceans for nonprofits and charities. He hung out with friends and loved his sisters (a set of twins named Lily and Kendra Andrews turned up at age eleven, three years younger than Estelle).

Estelle took over for Rachel right around that point, becoming the new Oracle of Delphi, and he was visiting her in her little den-space in the cave when...it happened.

It was a curse, of some kind, dredged up by a group of campers excavating an underground tunnel, connected to Bunker 9. Whatever the specifics were he was never told and didn’t really feel like asking, but the most basic run down was zombies.

Estelle with her lack of training didn’t stand a chance, no matter how hard Percy tried to protect her.

He didn’t go back to camp for a long time after that.

He only returned, six years later, to meet his newest half-brother Dylan Fisher.

Chaos himself then decided to fuck with everything.

Now Percy was forty-two.

His baby sister was dead, and so were a lot of his friends. His mother’s heart had given out not too long ago. Annabeth had died in a minor quest for information, three months ago, a mere errand that Hecate could have done herself.

He was expecting to die during this war. He was ready for it, whether it came from the swirly-thing that was currently dragging him from the couch or if it came in some epic final battle.

Percy Jackson was done.

~~~

Perseus Jackson was bewildered at the sharp left turn his life had taken.

His mom was killed by the minotaur--the very same minotaur from Ancient Greece--and his dad is a god, and his best friend is half-goat. The cam he was at was full of other demigod children of the Greek gods. Zeus blamed him for the thievery of his master bolt. Percy wasn’t even supposed to have been born.

He wasn’t able to sleep in the big, empty cabin after nearly dying from a hellhound and being claimed by Poseidon only a few hours before.

That was when a swirling...something appeared in the middle of the room, very quickly pulling him towards it.

Percy grabbed onto the sheets, trying to grab something heavier, but being unable before he was pulled in.

~~~

Persephone Jackson was extremely irritated at the newest (most likely) godly interference in her life.

She’d done her time--first with the Titans, and then with the giants. Her plans include finishing high school and going to college with her girlfriend, not this black-hole thing in her bedroom.

“Annabeth!” she cried out, desperately reaching for her across the bed.

“Perci-” Annabeth called back, waking abruptly.

The last thing she saw was Paul and her mother throwing open her bedroom door, and Annabeth’s outstretched hand.

She was really fed up with all this godly stuff.

~~~

Delora Jackson wasn’t quite ready the newest adventure standing in her way.

Not that she had terribly many quests, like Thalia and Luke and Beckendorf and Katie and even the mortal Oracle of Delphi Samantha. The largest claim to fame Lora had was that her best friend was part of the Argo II quest, and that she had been a key player in a few of the battles with the Roman Emperors.

Her mom--that was, her “godly” (she was technically a nereid, not a goddess) mom--had invited her to the bottom of the ocean for a party of some kind. Lora had just finished hailing good-bye to her (technical stepfather) Uncle Poseidon, and kissed her mom’s cheek at the door when the portal opened up.

Her mother reached for her with the strength of the entire ocean, and Lora reached back. For a moment she thought her mother would save her. The next she was gone.

~~~

Percy Jackson was not ready to be on his very own quest, despite how much he acted like he might be.

It was easy to put on a front like he knew what he was doing. That was kinda the whole point of being a mortal that could see through the Mist, especially one that became the first known male Oracle of Delphi and the first living one since WWII.

He had actually only had a total of three lessons (two in archery, by Apollo himself, and one in swords) in weapons training. The closest he came to actually fighting came when he threw a half-empty water bottle at the Titan Lord Kronos.

In honesty, he probably was taking the news of Greek gods, and the subsequent war with the titans, and the appointment of Oracle, and being handed a baby girl only a few weeks later by Apollo who Percy knows he never slept with because he was the Oracle and wasn’t allowed.

He was somewhat managing.

A five-month-old was a lot to deal with but he honest-to-gods was. His mom and step-dad helped a lot, as well as a lot of the demigod campers. He loved Clara with all his heart, even when he was only getting to bed at who-knows-it’s-dark o’clock.

That’s when a portal-thing opened in front of him.

He fervently prayed to Apollo that he wouldn’t let anything happen to their little girl while Percy was gone.

~~~

Bianca di Angelo did not need anything else adding to the current quest that she was on.

There was the Greek campers trying to kill her, Nico, Hazel, Gleeson, Dina, Elanor, and Robert. There were Roman campers after Eleanor and Robert for deserting. The Greeks and Romans were going after each other. When the gods weren’t incapacitated by the migraines, most tried to kill the two children of Hades in a vain attempt to postpone the war. Kronos was possessing Margery and gathering his forces.

The portal that began pulling her in while she sat watch with Dina was really unwelcomed. There was nothing she could do to stop it, even as she twisted for her spear.

Damn her luck.

~~~

Peter Johnson had a fairly regular life that he was personally very happy with.

He was a marine biologist, his wife was a wonderful scuba diving instructor named Sabrina, and he had two kids. He wasn’t religious, though his father came from a heavily Lutheran background. He had a mortgage and a bichon.

A bichon dog that, in the middle of the night, woke him and Sabrina up by flipping out for seemingly no reason.

Well, no reason until what Peter could only describe as multiple portals opened up and dumped people into the room. About five or six, from what Peter could tell between all the yelling, barking, and salt-water pouring out from one of the...things.

That was one way to wake up, he supposed.

#into the percyverse #fic link #my fic #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percysonas #peter johnson #perci jackson #lora jackson #bianca di angelo #au

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lostinfic · 6 years ago

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Treat, please. Will x Holly. "You're wearing my sweater." + Game Night.

Game Night. 1 / 2

Pairing: Will Burton (The Escape Artist) x Holly Shawcross(True Love)

Rating:Teen

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Will and Holly are part of a group of friends whomeet every week to play board games. Although there is more than friendship growing between them, their pasts prevent them from acting on their feelings.

A/N: I also wrote a fem!Will x Holly version of thisprompt: Sweater Weather

Some details might escape you if you haven’t seen the shows, but I think you can still enjoy the story.

○ Trick or treat prompts

○ All my autumn fics

Available on Ao3

🍂

“You don’t have to do that,” Will said as Holly washed the glasses used by their friends.

“It’s no bother.”

He cleared the table and threw away empty bags of crisps and pretzels.

“How was your week?”

She interpreted his question as a sign that he didn’t mind her staying after the others had left.

Holly worked part time at an immigration center, teaching English to newcomers. As Will wiped crumbs off the table, she told him about a teenage Somalian refugee who drew comic strips of his journey to England. She’d put him in contact with a gallery where she’d once exhibited her own work.

“Did you paint anything new this week?” Will asked.

“Yeah. Christmas cards. I need to stock up my online shop in time for Cyber Monday.”

“But you loved painting Autumn stuff.”

“I know, I really did.” She pouted.

She washed another glass, and Will sided up to her with a towel to dry it.

“I nearly drank my paint water again this week.”

“I told you to stop using that mug.” He bumped her with his shoulder.

“But I love it!” She bumped him back with her hip.

He shook his head fondly.

She asked about his own week, she remembered he had a meeting with a new client yesterday. He lost his smile.

“The man’s a serial drunk driver and he’s killed someone because of it, and I swear his breath smelled of gin when we met.”

“Jesus. Did he drive to the appointment?”

“Thank God, no. His solicitor got him to start the 12-Step Program.”

“That’s good. There’s hope.”

He nodded, his lips in a tight smile.

“You must think I’m naive,” Holly said.

“No, no, but he’s probably only doing it to get a reduced sentence.” Belatedly, he added, “But I think it’s great that you still have faith in people.”

“I have to. Don’t you?”

He didn’t answer. He had seen too much in his career. That lost puppy look in his eyes tugged at her heartstrings.

She had to believe people could make amends and change, otherwise there was no hope for her after what she’d done. And what he’d done.

She wondered if he knew that she’d slept with one of her students, the way she knew he’d killed his wife’s murderer, by unearthing five-year old headlines on Google. They’d both moved elsewhere, to Cambridge, to put it all behind, so she never brought up the subject, never asked him if he really did it. Who they were now was all that mattered.

“I think some people can become better persons,” he finally admitted.

She touched his arm lightly, a shy show of support, and he surprised her by putting his hand over hers. His thumb brushed across her knuckles, and her arm goose-pimpled from the contact.

She loved these moments, when it was just the two of them and they talked about more personal things, unlike when the others were around.

Will and Holly were part of a group of eight friends who played board games every week. Lately, when the game was at Will’s, she made sure to arrive a little early and found some excuse to stay after the others had left.

Will had joined the group six months ago (one of their members had a baby and couldn’t come to their weekly games anymore so he introduced Will as his replacement). Maybe it was a professional quirk, Holly was a teacher after all, but she immediately took him under her wing, explaining the rules and the inside jokes, and going out of her way to include him in the group. She was only being nice, but somewhere along the way being nice turned into being infatuated.

Jamie’s arrival from his football practice interrupted their moment. They jumped apart and quickly finished cleaning up the kitchen.

Will saw her to the door. The temperature had dropped significantly, and Holly was only wearing a thin raincoat.

“It’s alright,” she said, “the bus stop’s only two blocks away.”

“I don’t want you to catch something, I need you to win the next game. Here.” He removed his grey jumper and offered it to her.

Holly walked to the bus stop with her nose under the collar. Unlike her who shopped at charity shops, Will had the means to buy high quality clothes and this jumper was no exception, a blend of cashmere and wool as far as she could tell. She rubbed her cheek against it. His cologne lingered between the stitches, warm and woodsy, and with the smell of rain in the air, it reminded her of the forest in autumn.

She wore his sweater all week. It kept her warm when she painted or read with the windows open. She became so used to it that she still had it on when they met at Patrick’s house for the next game night. Will didn’t notice however. Even if it was half past seven, he’d obviously come straight from court and his brain was still occupied by work. His hair was messy as if he’d tugged on it.

He sat down next to her without a salutation, and pulled a pre-packaged cheese sandwich and a green apple out of his coat pockets.

Every other week, they played Dungeons & Dragons. Patrick— a stocky, dark-skinned accountant who’d initiated the game nights with his sister Sabrina— recapped their latest quest. Everyone organized their dice, figurines and character sheets on the dining room table. Everyone except Will who was munching absentmindedly on his stale sandwich.

“Will?” Patrick repeated.

He blinked out of his thoughts and looked around as if he’d forgotten where he was. “Uh?”

“That weapon you found at the cave, was it a knife or a sword?”

“In the game,” Jasna, another player, specified.

“Yeah, sorry, erm…” He looked through his notes and answered them.

“Long day?” Holly whispered to him.

“Aye.”

“Relax.” She leaned well into his personal space and loosened his tie.

He didn’t say a word, only turned his torso towards her, offering better access. She hadn’t planned on taking it all off, but now her fingers worked at the knot. The silky material glided under his collar and wrapped around her fist.

“You’re free from work now.”

As he took his tie from her hands, his fingers deliberately brushed against hers.

“Are you wearing my jumper?”

“Have been since I got here.” She chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll give it back to you.”

“There’s no rush.”

Holly’s character was a Wizard and Will’s a Rogue. Because they always sat next to each other, they often separated from the rest of the gang to conduct their own mission. They made a good team. Will was a great strategist, always a step ahead of everyone, even the Dungeon Master. He would lean towards Holly, and whisper to her their next move. Her own strength was thinking outside the box, using her character’s spells in creative ways.

“Holly, you can’t use the Glyph of Warding that way,” Patrick said.

Will put on his glasses and looked through the Player’s Handbook. “Objection.”

Patrick groaned.

Will recited the description of the spell, “You inscribe a glyph that harms other creatures, either upon a surface or within an object that can be closed to conceal the glyph. Did you not say just 10 minutes ago that Mordenkainen closed the portal? Accordingly…”

“Why are you always defending her and not us?” Sabrina asked.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Holly’s weakness. It’s why she’d had an affair with a married man, an underage student and an older woman who called her her Muse. If they made her feel just a little special… But he was a widower, a single father and a workaholic, but she could feel it, like the pull of the undercurrent before a big wave. She was wary of that pull now— three years of therapy had taught her that at least—, but the more she resisted it, the more delicious it was. And really, it didn’t help that he wore such tight jeans.

Sometimes, she drew their D&D characters together.

“Holly, here’s what I’ll do, if Modenkainen is still in this plane, you can use the glyph on his portal.” Patrick rolled a pair of twenty-side die. “And you got it. Damn it.”

Holly and Will high-fived.

The game continued as they ate junk food, drank cider and generally drove Patrick crazy with their antics. “You can’t drug the elves to get in the castle!”

“What was the point of going all the way to Yesterhill to get these pastries, then?”

“I didn’t make you go there. By the way, Jerome, did you hide your tail?”

“Yeah, I shoved it up me arsehole.”

The whole table burst out laughing.

By the end of the night, they’d reigned in their hilarity enough to defeat a dragon and a horde of banshees.

“Same time next week,” Jasna said as she put on her coat. “It will be Halloween, so you’d all better dress up. Just kidding.”

Much to Holly’s surprise, Will offered her a ride home even though her flat wasn’t on his way.

Street lights glistened on the rain-sleek pavement and the wind carried dead leaves across the road. The full moon shone a warm, benevolent yellow over the river Cam.

Although they were silent, the car was brimming with some kind of energy. Will nearly missed a red light even if his eyes were trained on the road, Holly kept squirming on her seat, and they repeatedly snuck glances at each other. He missed the exit for her neighborhood, and they had to drive a while longer. She didn’t mind. She wanted him to keep driving. All night. Anywhere, out of town. They’d talk of nothing and everything.

He stopped in front of her building and killed the engine. She unbuckled her seat belt but didn’t leave the car. She didn’t want to have to wait a whole week before seeing him again.

“So…” he said.

“We’re here.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Not at all. Oh! I have something for you.”

He reached for something on the back seat and handed her a paper bag. She unwrapped a set of mugs labelled “paint water” and “not paint water”.

“I saw them in a craft store window. Thought of you.” He tugged on his earlobe, watching her reaction. “Do you like them?”

Holly didn’t know what to say. It made her so happy that he’d thought of her. She cradled the mugs to her chest and nodded. She remembered something Karen had once said, that she wanted someone who would love “all her nerdy little things”. Holly had found that someone.

She tentatively leaned over the gear stick to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head at the same time and her lips landed right on the corner of his mouth. They both laughed nervously.

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

“I should give you back your jumper.”

She took off her scarf and raincoat. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when she gripped the hem of the sweater; she caught the hem of her tank top as well and pulled it all up over her head.

Will’s eyes widened when he saw her bra. Her chest heaved with quick breaths.

“Holly…” He swallowed thickly. “You’ll get cold.”

And she did, for his rejection was like a bucket of iced water to the face.

“Right.” She hastily put her raincoat back on and rushed outside the car with a mumbled goodbye.

Part 2

#lots-o-huggindoctor #meanwhileinpetesworld #Teninch fic #Will x Holly #Lostinfic writes stuff #autumn prompts #fluff and angst #I guess they're both geeks #because they're playing Dungeons & Dragons #game night fic

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queenofhearts7378 · 7 years ago

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10? Either or both 10s?

Well the last person to make me laugh was my dad like a few seconds ago when he made a terrible pun.As for the other 10, I dug through my folders and found the oldest thing I wrote (not including all my school journals in my junk drawer somewhere). Keep in mind I was twelve when I wrote this:I never believed in luck until an alien decided to knock on my door.I was never one to believe in bad luck or good luck. Stuff just happens you know? That luck stuff is all in your head. People said I had bad luck. I tripped over nothing, things broke around me, I was involved in at least three attempted muggings that I just walked right into.But I never thought of it has bad luck. I just thought that the world sucked. No, I’m not a pessimist. I prefer to think of myself as a realist. The world sucks. Good things happen, bad things happen. Murderers can get away and innocents can get killed. Money can do almost anything for you. See? A realist.So when I opened the door and saw a red skinned figure with glowing blue hair, I thought my friend Jay was back from visiting some cosplay thing. I stare for a minute, then step to the side and gesture them in.They stared at me confused, then walked in.Shutting the door behind me I ask them, “So what’s up with gettup? I’ve never seen that character before. Who’d you go as again?”They continue to stare at me.I pursed my lips, “Ok. Are you still in character? Do they talk?”They blink.I sigh and walk back to my room. “Whatever. I’ve got homework to do and you know where the food is.”Now you may be wondering why I’m so nonchalant about this whole thing. Jay is an avid cosplayer. They’re dressed as something different every day. Warriors, villains, aliens, magical school girls; they’ve done it all. They’ll be an orange haired cat girl one day, to emo dead boy with a sword the next. I’m so used to the rapid changes of style that nothing they wear can surprise me anymore. Confuse me? Sure. Blind me? Occasionally. But not surprise me.Red skin, glowing blue hair, yellow eyes, and a black jumpsuit? This is tame compared to past outfits.I flop into my rolling chair, spinning a little for extra amusement before sliding to a stop. I’m about to start my homework when I see a incoming call on the face cam.I click it, knowing it to be one of my friends., and all I see is pink.Blinking, I stare for a minute so I can comprehend just what I’m looking at.Which just so happens to be my friend Jay.“Shae! What’s up? Oh my ghost you would not believe what I just bought you, you are going to die.” They grin. “I saw it and remembered how much you love skeletons so I-”“Stop!” I cut them off, waving erratically. “Stop stop. No. You are downstairs.”Jay laughs, “Oh my sweet innocent little Shae, did you eat some of Frug’s hot sauce again?”I glare at her through the screen. “No. You guys banned me from that stuff. I swear I just let you in the door.”They smile, clearly worried for my sanity. “I’m still in New Mexico at the convention. You said you just let someone in your house? Well who is it?”My mouth goes dry, “I um….well I thought it was you….but it’s not?”Jay’s smile dropped and they stare at me, “So you have a stranger in your house unsupervised and they may or may not be a criminally insane mass murderer?”I stand up, muttering a quick goodbye to them, and fly out the door. I could hear Jay yelling at me through the speakers.I run to the living where the now unidentified probable mass murderer has their head in the sink.Grabbing an umbrella and hiding it behind my back, I cough to get their attention. They pull their head out of the sink and look at me.“So, uh, you aren’t my friend Jay. Wh-who are you?” I wince at the stutter.They put one hand on their chin, the other on top of their head and say, “Yarknob.”They lower their hands. “I am Fivetanclerchanta. I welcome you for granting me in.”Oh great, I'm dealing with a crazy person. Who may or not be a mass murderer planning on disposing my body in the sink. And also has amazing hair if that's not a wig.“Uh, yeah. Ok. Hey….Five.”“Fivetanclerchanta.”I shake my head, “Yeah, no. I can't pronounce that. Anyways I'm Shae. Shae Wallis. What exactly are you doing here? And why did you walk into a stranger's house?”Five tilts their head, “You had granted me in. I needed the help of a native Earthling. Your dwelling of the house was nearest to my podek."I take in a deep breath and blow it out slowly. I am not awake enough to deal with this right now.“Listen.” I move cautiously to them, the umbrella still hidden behind my back, “I think you took a wrong turn and maybe lost a few spoons from your drawer-”“Apologies to the spoons but-”“No no.” I interrupt them to gently push Five in the direction of the door. “You probably have some convention to get to, and I have homework so you kinda need to leave. Now.”Five stops walking and turns to face me. They stand tall and straight, hands clasped behind their back. They suddenly remind me of all those soldier pictures I see around and I stop pushing them.“I come as Ambassador from the planet Mallrakonid based in the galaxy you call Sombrero; approximately 28 million light years away from Earth. My planet’s dominant species, the Mallrak, have come to make allies with the Earthlings. So I please you to take me to your leader.”I'm done with this. At first it was kinda weird, now it's just plain annoying.I glare at them and brandish my umbrella. “Listen here Red, I'm done playing games. At first it was kinda weird, but now you're taking the cosplay off the deep end.”Five huffs through their nose. “You do not compute the words to genuine.”“No I do not compute the words to genuine.” I mock.Five pats the side of their suit and pulls out a tablet from somewhere. They tap on it for a minute and suddenly a giant hologram fills up the space in between us.I take a step back. “Alright. That's a pretty neat trick. How'd you do it?”They give me an annoyed look, “It is no neat trick. It is my communicator. But it is the containers in which I will your focus.”I look at the hologram, which shows to just be a slowly rotation Earth picture.“Congratulations. It's a picture of Earth.” Sarcasm pours into the sentence. “Touch it.” They command.I roll my eyes and reach my hand out, expecting it to go right through. I wasn't about to play along with this ridiculous act anymore. But to my slight surprise, when I touched what felt like smooth glass. Awed, I glide my hand across the smooth surface, seeing it react to my touch.

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onceuponaplay-blog · 7 years ago

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Loki MBTI

Okay. I've been thinking about this for like two weeks since seeing "Ragnarok", and I've come to a sad, interesting, hopeful conclusion, that has to do with Loki's MBTI type. First off, let me also explain this is just my opinion of his typing, and I know that personality types are not end-all/be-all and so much more goes into a personality and characterization than four letters, but hey, humor me, and first let me break it down:(spoilers ahead)

In "Dark World" when Thor is flying the plane and in "Ragnarok" when they're getting to the ships he literally won't shut up. Okay, so maybe since Thor is Loki's family he'd be more familiar; How about standing in front of eighty-odd people and giving a lavish speech, making a dramatic entrance and declaring "Your savior is here!" before asking "Did you miss me?" (because having Cumberbatch reside on Bleaker Street just wasn't enough), and immediately schmoozing the Grandmaster upon arrival on a strange planet and partying it up with strangers? You don't have to agree, but for me this case is a definite "E" (I apologize for my behavior).

Much as Loki would like to be robotic and factual, he's not. His thought processes are complex and future-focused; the present is only the means to an end. Almost everything he does is to make something happen or to get a reaction. His senses serve to present basic information to him, then his mind interprets it through abstract and complex means. This is part of what makes him a great prankster and people-reader.

Again, Loki wishes he could cast aside sentiment; but he can't. While he is incredibly intelligent, this is not his driving force; his feelings are. From the very beginning his actions have been born from feelings, insecurity/anger when laughed at spurring the snake trick in a "Thor" deleted scene, envy of Thor the entire coronation chaos, insecurity/outrage over his true origins and Odin's hiding him a total meltdown, it continues through literally everything he does. (Not to mention the man is a drama queen and everyone knows it and loves it.)

Loki often makes mistakes when he judges something or someone too quickly(that Thor "thinks little of him", that Natasha isn't wired to figure out his plans, that he is "above" Midgardians), and once he concludes these things doesn't seem to question them until they're proven wrong. While he has his insecurities, Loki is a naturally decisive person, a fine trait in a leader as long as they are not misled.

If you don't believe the individual traits, then examine them together:

ENFJ

While this type represents people who are great and charismatic leaders, it also presents one of the best personality combinations for manipulation. ENFJs have the Introverted Feeling to understand people, the Judgement to determine the best way to trick them, and the Extroversion to grant motivation to the manipulation. One infamous accepted ENFJ villain is Hans of the Southern Aisles. As Hans was written to be the mirror in "Frozen", ENFJs cam commonly become "social chameleons".

Now the point all of this has led to: no person or personality type is a natural villain. But in particular, ENFJs seem like an odd type for a villain to be; they're idealists, they're charismatic, they're even termed "The Givers" and "The Protagonists" by psychologists. So what kind of things usually lead to idealists "going rogue"? Misled intentions. Is that Loki's case? NO. Well. It would seem. "The Avengers" is one of the most telling films of the case I'm about to make. Listen. I'm young. I watched this one before I watched "Thor", then I went back and corrected my mistake. But watching "Avengers" for the first time after getting to know the "Thor" Loki more, something struck me as weird. Motivation. But there's a fancier, more specific word that puzzled me more: conviction. When Loki first dramatically enters he introduces himself as "Loki, of Asgard", and goes on a full-blown rant about "glad tidings" and "glorious purpose"(after blowing some stuff up with the sceptre). So cool, but like, what? And he goes on to give another schpill about how he's doing this world a favor in Germany. But nothing we saw in "Thor" nor anything we see elsewhere seems to indicate that he actually cares about midgard kind. So I ask again, what gives? He's justifying himself. And you know what, he's been doing it since film one. "I could have done it Father! For you! For all of us!" But no, Loki isn't simply justifying himself to others; he's trying to justify himself to himself. And when does all this glory talk and misled morality come to the surface? When he's holding the sceptre, and never quite as much when he's not, did you notice? Theories have riddled the net about how Loki could have been victim to the sceptre' s control, and to a degree, I concur. The Avengers argue feverishly when in the same room as it, Bruce scarcely realizing he's holding the thing, and one of its integral functions is mind control. I don't think it controlled Loki "per se". I think it did what it did what it did to the Avengers and brought forth unsavory emotions they'd put at least a little effort into concealing until that moment when they confronted them head on(Steve's aggravation at Tony, Tony's irritation toward Steve. Both things that were present before but unearthed more by the sceptre's power). Now this is an interesting case, for the sceptre's power seems to appeal to true emotions and thoughts in different people. This rant brought to you to conclude, a thought process present in Loki is justification. This is addressed when Coulson says that Loki "lacks conviction", a comment that gives Loki pause and lowers his guard enough for Coulson to blast him through a wall. Because it's true, and it bothers him. Deep down, Loki wants to be a hero. He wants to be in the right, and his moral compass is so integral he has to justify every move he makes. But just as he would rather be sensing/thinking, he doesn't want to accept this part of himself that seems weak and, you know, burdensome. He's fighting it and feeding it at once. But what this leads to are his final moments in "Ragnarok". "You will always be the God of Mischief Loki. But you could be more." (That quote was rough sorry you get it though.) Sure enough the next time Thor and Loki see each other, Thor trusts Loki with the task of ensuing Ragnarok. And he does it. And boards the ship afterwards and lets Thor know that he has done so. And it's a fair argument that these things came from self-preservation, but when you consider the interactions between Thor and Loki throughout the film, it seems that all of this is leading to something special: a redemption for Loki. And maybe I'm too idealistic, but I think when the time comes he will seize the opportunity.

#loki #ragnarok #mbti #enfj #avengers #thor

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redsoapbox · 7 years ago

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PAUL LEWIS / INTERVIEWS WITH VAN MORRISON AND SNATCH IT BACK

A gathering of the It's a Wonderful Life Club, that met each Christmas in the Lewis household to watch Frank Capra’s famous festive film - Left to right, Paul Lewis, Rob Jeffreys, Me, Huw MacDonald and Mandy Morris, sitting. Taken around 1990 - I think we are all singing along to our friend Big Al Davies, tragically just out of shot!

Today marks the 10th anniversary of the passing of my great friend Paul Lewis. We first met, back in 1984, while working in the post room at Companies House in Cardiff - I was reading a biography of Jack Lemmon on my morning tea-break, and Paul wandered over to talk about Cinema. It didn’t take him long to get my measure - if he mentioned a Hollywood classic, whether it be Twelve Angry Men, The Searchers, or Bringing up Baby, then I had a view worth expressing. I was even able to hold my own on the silent movies of Chaplin, Keaton and Lloyd. However, when Paul threw in Akira Kurasowa, Jean Luc Goddard or Ingmar Bergman my limitations were exposed for all to see. Needless to say, I was pretty impressed with my new colleague and soon to be best friend (we eventually ended up being best man for each other).

That chat only scratched the surface of Paul’s knowledge - it soon transpired that you could apply the lessons of that first conversation to music, literature, photography, architecture - just name it. As this is primarily a music blog, however, I’ll stick to Paul’s influence in that department. Paul, at the time of his death, had established himself as one of the leading blues journalists in the U.K. - even appearing as a guest on the legendary Paul Jones’ The Blues Show on Radio 2. I was lucky enough to tag along with Paul and his wife Wendy on many occasions, as he reviewed and interviewed iconic figures like Van Morrison, Jerry Lee Lewis and Cardiff’s very own local heroes Snatch it Back.

So Karen and I will be raising a glass tonight to Paul’s memory and to our continuing friendship with Wendy and the Lewis clan. I’ll be listening to my favourite Snatch It Back tune, “Kind of Loving I Need”, Van the Man’s “Into the Mystic” and, perhaps, something from Nanci’ Griffith’s Little Love Affairs to remember the good times by.

The interview with Paul and Wendy’s beloved Snatch it Back, (the band played at the couples evening wedding reception - what a gig that was!), is available to read through the British Blues Archive and the UK Blues Federation (www.ukblues.org), and a link to the interview, which originally featured in issue No.17 of BBR Boogie, can be found at the foot of the page, together with a video of the band in action. As for the copyright of the interview with Van the Man, where Paul’s forensic knowledge of his subject really shines through, I’m winging it - but I think Paul would see the funny side if I received a letter from The Belfast Cowboy’s solicitor threatening to sue me!

Van Morrison in his skiffle/rock ‘n’roll years.

1991 Van Morrison interview

by Paul Lewis

From Now Dig This, December, 1991, pages 22-26

Van Morrison is, without question, one of the giants of the rock era. Having first emerged as a prime mover in the British r&b movement of the early '60s with his Belfast band Them, Morrison has remained remarkably faithful to those roots, developing a musical style at once highly original but also greatly indebted to his early heroes - the blues singers and jazz musicians; the 'voices' of gospel and r&b; the original rock n rollers. His lyrics are peopled by legendary names - Ray Charles, Muddy Waters, Leadbelly etc. - figures that appear almost as characters in an ongoing dialogue; indeed the beginner could amass a terrific record collection simply by checking out the clues that Morrison sprinkles. To get a fuller picture of the man's musical background and primary influences, I met with Van on a recent trip to South Wales. We were joined by a mutual friend, Gordon McIlroy (Wales' leading promoter of blues, r&b and rock n roll gigs), and the conversation was lively, informal and enlightening. What emerged was an engrossing guide to the musical roots of one of our most important performers.

Paul Lewis: Can I start by asking how you got introduced to the blues and rock n roll and all that kind of stuff? I know your father was a great collector of blues and jazz records...

Van Morrison: Yes, well that's really it - I sort of grew up listening to it. You probably heard that before.

PL: And wasn't your mother a singer?

VM: She did some singing, but never professionally. She did some local sorts of shows.

PL: Did she sing jazz?

VM: I don't know exactly what it was. I think it was just the stuff that was happening. I mean the dance band era, that sort of thing...

PL: How did your father get hold of his records? Was there an outlet in Belfast?

VM: Yes, Solly Lipsiz was the guy's name. He had a jazz record shop in the High Street in Belfast - a collectors' shop. It was very small, a very small shop, just shelves of...well, they had 78's then, and they had 10-inch LPs and EPs. Nowadays you can go to these big stores, Virgin or something... In those days you had to go to a specialist shop to get any jazz or blues records.

PL: Was there a lot of interest over there in Belfast then?

VM: No, there wasn't a lot, just small pockets really. There were just small pockets of interest.

PL: So when did it first hit you that there was something you might have liked among your father's records?

VM: Right away! When I could breathe, I think. I just connected with it right away. The first things I heard were Mahalia Jackson, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, The Clara Ward Singers...

PL: All the gospel people...

VM: Yes. The earliest thing I can remember hearing was gospel, but I heard Leadbelly too, right from the beginning. I don't know the exact sequence, but I heard it all at once. And he was into the big band stuff as well, so I heard Tommy Dorsey and Harry James - because that was his era - so it's all mixed up, you know. But I connected with the gospel and Leadbelly - heavily connected with Leadbelly - and that's how I got into music in the first place.

PL: How old were you when you started playing music yourself?

VM: Well, I got a guitar when I was about 11 or 12. Then I got this Alan Lomax book, and I learned the chords and picked the shapes out of this book. It was called 'The Carter Family Style' - that was what I initially started learning on guitar. And I was trying to pick up also what Leadbelly was doing, but that wasn't in there. If you did The Carter Family, then you could pick up from there, you know.

The Carter Family - Maybelle. A.P and Sarah

PL: You mentioned The Carter Family; did your father have any country records as well?

VM: Oh yes. Well I heard Hank from friends in the street. Friends of mine had the Hank Williams stuff, so I heard that from five or six doors down - they used to leave the doors open. One of my father's friends used to bring all these 78's over, they used to have 'Hank Williams Nights'. Have a few drinks, listen to Hank all night.

Gordon McIlroy: Hank parties! That's unbelievable. Never happened here, you know, never...

VM: That happened in Ireland all the time. It was a big thing.

PL: Ireland's got a strong tradition of country and western though, hasn't it?

VM: Yes, because I think they're very connected you see. The cultures are very connected.

PL: So, guitar was your first instrument - did you play in any bands early on?

VM: No, it was what you'd call 'folk' then. I can remember when I started playing, there weren't any guitars around, apart from on the records by Leadbelly, Josh White, Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. You never really heard guitar. You saw it on television - somebody like Ivor Mairants, or you saw people like Elton Hayes. And there were some comedians who played guitar - like I saw Max Wall play guitar once. But it wasn't 'in' then by any means; the guitar was not an instrument then.

PL: When you say 'folk' music, what exactly are you referring to - not 'traditional Irish folk music'?

VM: Yeah. Well when you started, you had to play on your own, because the players weren't available. It was so isolated to have a guitar. You'd see Delia Murphy, who was an Irish folk singer... There'd be Steve Benbow, who played Irish folk music - and English - and all kinds of stuff that you'd see on television. The only local traditional folk group that I heard were The McPeakes. But folk music was not something that was readily available; your entrance into playing guitar was folk music but it wasn't something that was everywhere, not where I was. You couldn't just walk in and hear it, as you walk in and hear rock n roll later on, when the guitar became fashionable and all the teenagers were getting the records. But people like Elton Hayes you'd see on television, so you'd only have that to go on: one person with a guitar, singing a song. Robin Hall, Jimmy McGregor - that's the only thing you'd have to relate to. Either that or the Leadbelly records, or Jimmie Rodgers who I listened to a lot as well. All of a sudden, in the next five years, I think it was - in this part of the world, the UK and Ireland - it was Lonnie Doneganwho brought the guitar *in*. When I started playing they called it a banjo - that's what they called it! So they didn't really register about the guitar until then. I think Donegan was before all the rock n roll stuff...I can't quite remember the sequence.

GM: Donegan made the players, without a doubt. The *players* came from him, I believe.

PL: Had you been following Donegan through the 'trad' period with Colyer and Barber?

VM: Yes. My father had the Ken Colyer records and the Barber records - things like 'Precious Lord', where Donegan was singing in the Barber band. When 'Rock Island Line' came out, it was a Chris Barber record, so my father bought it and that's how I heard it. But what I connected with was that I was hearing Leadbelly before that, so that when Donegan came along, I thought everybody knew about it. So in retrospect now, I realise I was really lucky then - I didn't realise it then, because I thought everybody was hearing the same things I was, but they weren't. So consequently I think I was really lucky to grow up at that time and hear what I heard then, you know.

PL: Had you been trying to tell other people about these records you were listening to, and meeting with resistance?

VM: All the time, all the time. The 'country' people were the most relatable to at that time. My friends who had brothers or uncles or fathers into country music were the most relatable. Hank Williams was *the* most relatable thing, so those people who were into Hank, I connected with them. But they weren't jazz or blues people per se - they were into Hank, so there weren't a lot of people that I came into contact with that were into it. I used to meet people that were much older than me when I went to the collectors' shop, but I didn't really start connecting until the '60s. But the skiffle thing was the bridge really because that sort of crossed over - when I was going from Leadbelly and blues into skiffle, it translated very well. The next thing for me was the early '60s when all these groups started to emerge; then it was like everyone understood it, you know.

PL: Was there a skiffle scene among young musicians in Ireland as well as over here?

VM: Oh yeah, absolutely. That was what was happening then.

GM: I think all the musicians in this country came from skiffle, more than from rock n roll. When they brought rock n roll over here, nobody could play it. Couldn't play it directly...

VM: In that period, in Belfast, the one guy that I've heard of that was playing rock n roll was Brian Rossi. He was playing at The Plaza Ballroom, the Mecca ballroom in Belfast, and he was the first person that I saw that was 'rock n roll'. He had a three-piece because they didn't have the electric bass then - they had two guitars and a drummer. The bass wasn't in then, wasn't happening. People didn't know about it. In rock ‘n’ roll they didn't have electric bass until a couple of years after that, it was very slow to come in. But they had a piano, Rossi was playing piano, two guitar players and a drummer. He was the happening thing in Belfast.

PL: What year would that have been?

VM: Oh, '50s - late '50s. He was from the mid-'50s on, I would say. I wasn't getting into these sorts of venues until the late '50s, you know, because I was too young before that.

PL: How big a part did radio play in your musical education?

VM: It was actually more the records. I mean I heard things on the radio, but it was more the records that my father had. The radio stuff was just additional - you know, the AFN and Luxembourg - but it didn't really play as big a part. The records were the main feature.

PL: What was the first rock n roll record you bought?

VM: The first rock n roll record...it was the only one I could get actually, the only Bill Haley record I could find: 'Razzle Dazzle' (see right). I can't remember the other side...

GM: 'Two Hound Dogs'!

VM: That was it! 'Razzle Dazzle'/'Two Hound Dogs'. That was actually the first 45 I bought when they made the changeover from 78's to 45's.

PL: Did your father approve of the rock n roll stuff as well?

VM: Yes. But the thing is we were so much into jazz that it was sort of part of it, but it was more background, it was just passing by. We were so much into jazz and blues that rock n roll was peripheral. I mean we liked it, but it wasn't in my face all the time, because of the wealth of other stuff, you know. At the time when I got into rock n roll, I was also into jazz saxophone. I started studying tenor with a guy called George Cassidy in Belfast, learning to read music, so when I entered the rock n roll thing, it was coming from that end of it, that angle. So the whole thing wasn't rock n roll, there were other ideas and things I was listening to. People like 'Fathead' Newman, who was playing with Ray Charles - so that was sort of running parallel.

PL: And were you into all those r&b 'honkers' - the Earl Bostics and so on?

VM: I listened to Sil Austin, I had a Sil Austin record...'Pink Shop Shoes' was one of the tracks. I used to listen to him before I went to school, to get me up for school, you know. I heard 'Honky Tonk' too, but I was more into listening to a guy called Jimmy Giuffre than I was to rock n roll. I decided I wanted a sax when I heard Giuffre doing 'The Train And The River'. I couldn't get enough of it after that. If ever there's anyone who was a footnote or asterisk it was him, he's my main influence on saxophone.

PL: I suppose your father would have had his records with Woody Herman, so presumably that would ultimately have come from those?

VM: No, not really - I mean I liked that music, but I didn't connect that strongly with it, not as much as I did with r&b. My father had the first record that Parker played on, 'Dexter's Blues' with Jay McShann, so I heard that, but again I didn't connect so much with that as I did with this other stuff later on. I don't even know what it was called, just some sort of fusion. They didn't call it that then of course - today they'd probably call it fusion. In between Jimmy Giuffre, the Bill Doggett thing with Clifford Scott and The Bill Black Combo would be my area. And then I had these Chet Baker and Gerry Mulligan Quartet records that I listened to quite a lot. But when I heard 'Ray Charles Live At Newport', that was it. I started to understand something about the harmony, harmony phrasing, playing together, ensemble - all that kind of stuff. But that's what I was studying - more the jazz end of it than the rock thing at that point. When I joined my first rock n roll band, I was still listening to blues and progressive r&b and jazz. I never saw rock n roll as the whole picture.

PL: Were you playing the sax in a showband?

VM: No, no this was strictly a rock n roll band. It had two guitars, drums and saxophone. We had a piano player but he didn't stay there. He was working in another job, so it was like two guitars, drums and a tenor playing "Peter Gunn" and "Tequila" and all that kind of stuff. Then we actually became a showband because in Ireland you had to have more bodies to work. Because groups weren't really happening there - they were everywhere else with The Shadows etc., etc., but for some reason the promoters didn't want groups (laughs), they hated, you know, 'guitars, bass and drums' groups, they just didn't want to know. You had to have a horn section, you couldn't really work properly if you didn't. All the showbands had horn sections and a lot of them were really good, like The Royal Showband, Dixielanders, Swingtime Aces, Clipper Carlton... The horn sections were the main thing, so you had to have at least a seven or eight-piece band to work.

PL: Is that scene still thriving in Ireland now?

VM: No, no, it's all gone. That went with the ballrooms, they went at the same time. You had these five-hour dances, you see; the band would have to play for five hours for dancers. And people would come from everywhere, out of the woodwork. Some of these gigs were in the middle of a field, you know, in a ballroom. The Royal Showband were huge at the time and they went to Vegas for six months of the year. They'd come back and they were the biggest draw in Ireland.

PL: So presumably you were involved in this scene for quite a while. Were you trying to introduce r&b into it?

VM: Yes. Well, what happened was I was gradually trying to creep r&b in - we had this group situation and we had this piano player who was into Jerry Lee. So he used to come and listen to my Jerry Lee singles, and we'd gradually try to introduce them, and then Ray Charles. Bit by bit it was becoming more of an r&b band. And then we went to Germany where we could virtually play what we wanted. So at that point, it was no longer a showband, they wanted more r&b in Germany. They had showbands there, but they liked r&b, they wanted "What'd I Say" and "Sticks And Stones", you know...

GM: Jerry Lee had been down there at The Star Club. There's an album out of Jerry Lee...

VM: And Ray Charles had already been. So that was when it was beginning to turn around. And then a strange thing happened, just as we started to kick off on the r&b thing - we were playing a club in Heidelberg - I can remember the exact situation. We'd done three or four numbers and then we were announcing the next one when this American G.I. - there were a lot of G.I.'s coming in - he came up to me and said, "You guys ever heard of Dave Clark?". And from that minute, everything changed. All of a sudden it was groups again. So I went back - Calais, Dover and London - and it had all changed from six months previously. Now, the group thing was back and The Beatles were the biggest thing, and The Dave Clark Five. The r&b thing with horns was less predominant, you know, and then of course The Rolling Stones came after that. So, after Germany I went back to Belfast and opened an r&b club at The Maritime Hotel.

PL: So the band in Germany, was that Them at that point?

VM: No, no, completely different band, much better musicians. This is something I'll never understand, you see. The musicians in this band, we'd never got any commercial success, and I started this other situation from complete scratch. You know they actually just went their separate ways and got jobs in different bands and I got a job with Brian Rossi at The Plaza Ballroom in Belfast. I was playing some tenor, playing some harmonica and sang a couple of numbers, so I had a spot with Brian Rossi.

GM: What were the numbers then - rock n roll?

VM: No, it was r&b - that's why he got me. Because he was rock n roll, complete rock. His thing was like Jerry Lee, you know. He was like Jerry Lee, Little Richard...so he had that going. What was I doing? I was doing r&b numbers, like Ray Charles - "Sticks And Stones" or "What'd I Say", or some slow r&b songs, and I was sticking some tenor solos in as well. Then, during this period, there was an ad in the Belfast Telegraph which blew me away when I read it. It said: "Musicians Wanted To Start R&B CLub". I went and met these guys and they were in some other business - I don't know what exactly, but they weren't in the music business. The said, "We want to start this r&b club in Belfast and we're looking for people". There was only me and this other guy there; only two people showed up from the ad. So I went out and found this club, it was a Seamens' Mission; it was called The Maritime Hotel and they had a room set up, that's really where I made it - well, it came out of that situation. I had to just get musicians in at short notice, so the people that I really wanted, I couldn't get. I got another lot of people and we went into this club known as Them, and then it built up from there.

PL: Do you think that you did your best work (with Them) at that club, rather than on record?

VM: Oh...well, it's hard to say. Yeah, in some ways - energy-wise - yes, and as far as stretching the numbers out goes...I think a lot of it was more intense than on record. The records didn't really capture the whole thing because they were limited, you know. Like when you made records in those days, it was all 2:58, wasn't even three minutes, so it never really came across. Live gigs were much more stretched out, you know...

PL: Presumably you still like that club atmosphere?

VM: Oh yes, I think I'm at my best in a club situation, but it's difficult for me now to get that situation. It's not so readily available now.

GM: It's difficult to cope with the people that want to come in, you see. It's too "high-profile" sort of stuff. If you could move in, like, say come in tomorrow, without anyone knowing, it would work.

PL: You were obviously listening to the Chicago blues people - Muddy Waters, guys like that - by this point...

VM: Well, I heard the first Muddy stuff, his folk things, the Library of Congress recordings, I think, on French Vogue. Vogue were issuing records in England - 78's - when I heard Muddy it was from the 78's. You know that "Rollin' Stone" song? "I'm A Rollin' Stone", Muddy Waters? I hadn't heard the electric stuff by then, I heard that later on. But Sonny & Brownie, I heard them electric before I heard Muddy. Sonny & Brownie made an electric album, I heard that before I heard Muddy Waters, so that was like the first electric blues band I heard. I think it was called 'Back Country Blues' or something, but it was with an electric band.

PL: You mentioned that you'd started playing harmonica earlier; who were your influences there?

VM: Oh, Sonny Terry. The first one I connected with was Sonny Terry.

PL: Was that because you'd been buying those records - as a guitarist - to listen to Brownie McGhee and then thought: "Well, I could have a go at harp as well"?

VM: No. As far as guitar goes, I was just sticking with Leadbelly and doing the runs on 6-string - nobody had even heard of a 12-string guitar - and I thought: "Well, where can I get a 12-string?". They used to think I was insane when I was 12 years old and talking about 12-strings. They wanted to put me away. So I was trying to play the Leadbelly runs on a 6-string guitar, the best I knew how - I played more like Lightnin' than like Brownie McGhee, the Lightnin' style. Lightnin' and Leadbelly were the two main influences - and Hooker.

Van Morrison & John Lee Hooker

PL: When did you get into John Lee Hooker?

VM: It was an album on the Audiolab label, Hooker was on the one side, on the other side was Stick McGhee.

PL: Of course he'd played with Sonny Terry as well...

VM: That's right. He was Brownie McGhee's brother or something. But anyway, to get back to Hooker: the Hooker record was like it was done in an echo chamber. The guitar and the vocal were soaked in this echo. I'd never heard anything like that, there was nobody doing that. That's where I got "Baby, Please Don't Go" - from that. I mean, Hooker's name was on it, it said: "'Baby Please Don't Go' (John Lee Hooker)", and it was his arrangement that I started to work on.

PL: So you hadn't heard Big Joe Williams or any of those older versions?

VM: No, but it turns out that he never wrote it either. (To GM) You know the guy who wrote it...

GM: The original was Papa Harvey Hull and Long Cleeve Reid, in the 1920s. Incidentally, a funny thing happened the other week: we had Paul Burlison - Johnny Burnette's guitarist - staying in Cardiff. I think he set a standard for most of the British guys. You know "The Train Kept A-Rollin"? That's possibly where the lick came from for Van's version of "Baby, Please Don't Go".

VM: I think that's where Jimmy Page got the lick from - 'cause Jimmy Page played that lick on my record. But I'm sure he got it from "The Train Kept A-Rollin". I didn't really get this until years later, that it was the same riff, because I'd been listening to that record by Johnny Burnette.

PL: Were you aware of many of the rock guitarists of the time? Cliff Gallup?

VM: Oh yeah! WIth Vincent I was, yeah! For me, that was what the whole rock n roll thing was about. I heard the Johnny Burnette Trio first, then Vincent. I met him later on, about '65. I hung out with him, he was at The Royal Hotel in London and I got to know him a bit. He'd been to Egypt and he'd just got back; he was a really nice guy. For me he *was* rock n roll. I like Burnette, but not as much as Vincent. Whatever rock n roll is, for me it is Vincent.

PL: What about Jerry Lee?

VM: And Jerry Lee. To me, I couldn't say he was rock n roll. Jerry Lee's everything - he's jazz, blues, gospel, rock n roll... Jerry Lee to me means 'everything'. Vincent was to me what rock n roll was about.

PL: You recently did a gig with Jerry Lee. What was he like to work with?

VM: Easy. Dead easy. Very professional.

PL: You seem to me to be drawn to these people who cross over all these genres. I mean, Leadbelly is hard to pigeon-hole, and Jerry Lee as you said...Ray Charles... Would you say that's true - you like people that can straddle jazz and blues and country?

VM: Definitely. I think for me that's a key.

PL: I mean, you do that yourself...

VM: Yeah, I do.

PL: What about Ray Charles? When did you pick up on him?

VM: Oh, I bought three records - one was The Johnny Burnette Trio, another was a Ray Charles EP; it had "Don't Put All Your Dreams In One Basket", "Sittin' On Top Of The World" - it was the one they keep putting out every three years or something. But the first thing I ever bought by him was "What'd I Say". The first time I heard it was on AFN, late at night. It was a live version - it must have been out in America... The one I got was, you know, "Parts 1 and 2", and I was hooked. I was completely hooked after that.

Ray Charles & Van Morrison

PL: How about Elvis?

VM: I heard an Elvis Presley record - on Sun - was it his first record? It had "That's All Right Mama" on it...

GM: The first one we got was "Heartbreak Hotel". "That's All Right" never came across...

VM: I remember hearing one that was a Sun record. Somebody must've got an import. It was acoustic, had no drums on it. Must have been an import then, but I heard that one. But I never connected with that, I connected more with Vincent than I did with Presley.

PL: Did you explore all that stuff later on?

VM: I played it! When I was in a rock n roll band, I played it, jumped across the stage - did the whole thing. I did rock n roll for a couple of years really.

PL: Did you get the rock n roll films, the Alan Freed films, in Belfast?

VM: I saw 'The Girl Can't Help It', I saw that one. Vincent was in that. Little Richard... But I used to see Vincent on 'Oh Boy!'. He was on that fairly regularly, and 'Boy Meets Girls' and all that. Used to watch that every week. I remember seeing Ronnie Hawkins and Gene Vincent on 'Oh Boy!' with Joe Brown.

PL: What about the British rockers?

VM: Oh, Johnny Kidd, man. Johnny Kidd. He was it for me as far as the British end went. I remember he came to Romano's Ballroom in Belfast and he had a three-piece: guitar, bass and drums - and him. That was it, but it was like a big sound.

PL: What year would that have been?

VM: '62.

PL: Was Mick Green with them then?

VM: I think so, yes. But I mean, remember all those three-piece groups that came along much later? They were doing that *then*.

PL: The 'power trio' bit.

VM: Yeah, exactly.

PL: What about English r&b in the early '60s? Did it pre-date you doing it, or was it happening at around the same time?

VM: It was happening at the same time, but we didn't know. For instance, we played The Cafe A-Go-Go in Newcastle...

PL: The Animals' place...

VM: Yeah, but then nobody knew anything. They said there's this band in here called The Alan Price Band or something like that, which apparently became The Animals, but we never heard them. But we played this r&b club in the early '60s. I think there was a lot of crossover...probably Eric Burdon was doing the same kind of thing I was, but we never met each other then. This only came about when we had records out. We'd made a couple of records and The Animals and The Yardbirds and The Rolling Stones had records out, what, in '63 was it? The first British r&b of that type I heard was The Downliners Sect. It was at The Ken Colyer Club, there were doing it then, really doing it. I heard The Pretty Things later, we were on tour with The Pretty Things, but The Downliners Sect were *it*.

PL: What about the slightly earlier ones, like Alexis Korner, Cyril Davies and people like that?

VM: I heard Alexis during the skiffle thing with Ken Colyer, but you had to come to London to hear things like that then. Nowadays you could be in the outer Hebrides and you'd still be able to hear it, but then it was much more isolated. Alexis came and played the club I started about four years after I got it going.

PL: Were you, as a band, slightly out of it then, coming from Belfast? I mean, a lot of these bands evolved out of people that were sleeping on Alexis' living room floor. And they were all intermingled, those London-based bands...

VM: Yeah, probably yeah.

PL: Would that have made it harder for you?

VM: No. We met The Downliners Sect early on, when I was playing in a showband. I came through London and talked to them quite a few times, we went back to see them a few times, and so I started the r&b club I reckon about six months after that.

PL: Did you get many other bands in there outside of your own?

VM: Oh yes, loads of them. Because when it caught on - it took a while to catch on - but when it did, there were suddenly lots of r&b groups around, that came out of the woodwork, that just got into that when they discovered it could be done. Nobody thought it could be done before that. They just though: 'Oh, it's not gonna' work, it's not like a pop record...'. But when it did work, a lot of people that were playing in showbands suddenly wanted to be in rhythm and blues.

PL: I'd like to ask you about some of the people you met that had come across from America in the early '60s, some of the bluesmen that came across...

VM: I met Little Walter. We had a manager who brought us to London to stay at this hotel, called the Aaland Hotel, it was in Bloomsbury. We were sitting there for weeks, you know. We were having a jam session downstairs and all of a sudden these people were wandering through and somebody says 'Little Walter's coming in!'. I thought I must be dreaming, you know. And sure enough, he did, he came in. And I used to go for Chinese food for Little Walter - there was a Chinese restaurant a couple of streets away. I was always saying, "Well, can you show me anything on this harp?". But it was very tough, I mean he was tough, he didn't give anything away. His style was so 'off the wall' - I think he even had a number called "Off The Wall"! - that there's never been anybody since...the things he could do were just incredible. He had a scientific approach to playing the harp. As far as blues goes, he's the top, there is *nowhere* else. The outer limits. There's nobody to touch him. For me he's the outer limits.

PL: How different was he from someone like Sonny Terry?

VM: Well, I'm more like Sonny Boy Williamson, that's my speed. Walter, when he took the instrument to such an extreme, I haven't heard anybody come anywhere near it. But Sonny Boy, for me, I could manage my way around a bit, you know... But Walter was way, way beyond everybody.

PL: Did you meet up with anybody else then?

VM: We backed Jimmy Reed as a group - I backed Walter as well, backed him on guitar - met Jimmy Reed then, and I met Hooker in the same time period. That's really when I became heavily involved with Hooker.

PL: Hooker seems to have inspired you in all sorts of ways - phrasing and everything...

VM: I don't know what it is, but he had some sort of soul. He's got so much soul. When I heard him during that time, he had an acoustic and he came down to breakfast - he was just sitting around with three or four people in a room, and he got out the guitar and he started to play and I haven't heard anything like it since. It was just magic.

PL: I know you're not overly keen on much that's been written about you, but I came across something in 'Rolling Stone' that I'd like your opinion on. It was in a review of Paul Butterfield actually, it said: "Unlike Van Morrison, for instance, Butterfield always conceived of the blues as a tradition, not as a sensibility". Do you agree with that?

VM: Well, not really. I think I see it as both. The thing about it is, if you take Leadbelly or Lightnin' or Hooker, they're not always playing 12-bars. The blues is not always 12-bars, but somehow we've got it in our heads that that's where it is. I mean, some stuff Lightnin' does is not 12-bar - he plays different shapes. He's got records where he plays folk shapes. There's lots of different angles, but blues is a way of life. And it doesn't have anything to do with this thing about colour. When I was a kid, I used to think it was about 'black people' and this and that, but Hooker says "Blues is the truth", that's how he puts it. And I believe that. So whatever the truth is for you, that's what the blues is.

PL: You've always been quick to credit your influences in your own songs...

VM: A lot of that is tongue-in-cheek - you mean on the last album?

PL: Yes, well there's a couple on the last album: "Real Real Gone" and "Days Before Rock n Roll", but also going back to "Cleaning Windows" and so on.

VM: The last one ("Days Before...") was tongue-in-cheek, but "Cleaning Windows", that was reality. That was when I was listening to Blind Lemon, Leadbelly and Jimmie Rodgers.

PL: Do you see yourself in the role of some sort of educator?

VM: I think I could do that, it's a possibility. If I had a platform, I could get into that, it's a possibility.

PL: Do you ever think of doing an album purely in one of those styles? I know you did the folk album with The Chieftains, but a pure blues one or a pure rockabilly one...

VM: Oh, many times. Well there's stuff, actually unreleased material that is in that vein. Over the years you record things and there's only, like, 40 minutes on an album, so there's a lot of stuff gets 'canned'. This stuff exists, but it's long-winded going through all this material, finding out where the tapes are and getting it out.

PL: What was it like having Hooker record one of *your* songs? That's a rare occurrence!

VM: That was really strange, because Hooker recorded a version of "T.B. Sheets" and didn't give me any credit! At first I was really pissed off... Then I realized it was John Lee Hooker doing a *version* of it. He's doing an adaptation of it, it's not exactly the same. But I think if it had been anybody else, I would have done the legal trip. But seeing it was Hooker, I just don't see I could. I mean, it was a compliment, wasn't it, really, to do it - he would come to my gigs and say, "I dig this number 'T.B. Sheets', man. I wanna' do this number." You know, it's a compliment really.

PL: Were you involved in the 'Healer' project at all?

VM: He wanted me at the beginning to start on it, but they couldn't find me, they didn't know where I was physically, and they were trying to get in touch with me. By the time it got off the ground, Carlos (Santana) had got involved in it, and it became too far gone for me to get involved, but I became involved in the next one. I did two numbers for the next record: "Serves Me Right To Suffer" and "I Cover The Waterfront".

PL: You worked with Mose Allison...

VM: Yeah, I did a thing with him, two years ago, I think, in Bristol. A TV programme...

PL: Oh yes, but what I was thinking of was the concert that came out on video - that was from America though, wasn't it?

VM: Oh yes. Actually, the one in Bristol was better; there were more songs, it was stretched out a lot longer. The one I did in America was very rushed; the Bristol thing was shot over two days. There was much more chance to get into it, and he was playing some of my songs, which was good. But Mose has worked with me a lot, I mean been on shows with me for a long, long time, going back about 12 years. He's been on a lot of my shows in America. I saw him quite a lot when I lived over there. Sometimes I'd go see four sets in a row, you know. It's a completely different style, his music, from mine, but I really like it - I like his songs and I like what he stands for, what he's saying. He's a friend of mine; I've hung out with him, talked to him quite a bit, got a dialogue going - it's good.

PL: Of course you were playing with Georgie Fame around the same time, and he's obviously very influenced by him as well...

VM: Yes, I think Georgie's probably more influenced by Mose than I am. I don't really put Mose under 'influences', I put him under 'inspiration'. But Georgie's been into him for a long time as well. Georgie's a friend of his, too.

PL: How did you link up with Georgie? I imagine your paths must have crossed back when you were in Them and he was playing at The Flamingo?

VM: Well, our paths crossed, but we didn't actually connect up. We had the same agents when I was in a group called The Monarchs and he was playing at The Flamingo. So we had a lot of people in common, but we never actually connected with each other.

PL: Do you see much of the contemporary blues scene?

VM: No, it's like I have difficulty when the translation gets lost. I mean if you're brought up on Shakespeare, then it's difficult to read other things that aren't up to the same level. When you hear these people when you're very young - and it goes in all the way, it penetrates all the way and you absorb all that - the other stuff just seems feeble. I'm not putting it down, it just doesn't register. I always have to go back to Sonny Boy, Walter, Muddy Waters - I have to go back to these people because with the new stuff, there's something that's not there, there's something missing. I think it's got to do with people living it, and it was the consequence of this life and the way they really felt spiritually as well. And it's got watered down through the years. I mean it's good that people are still playing it, but there are very few things that I can say come anywhere near it. You know, I think the blues has become something else, it's become another vehicle. I think it's a good musical vehicle, but I don't think it's what it started out as it's become chipped away. It doesn't really have the depth of the original stuff is what I'm trying to say. There are very few people now that are penetrating the depth of it. For me, Butterfield was the last person that penetrated the depth of it. I haven't come across many people since then that actually were living the thing to that extent, anywhere near that.

Issue no 17 of BBR Boogie can be read here http://www.britishbluesarchive.org.uk/Docs/Blues_Review/Blues_Review-May91.pdf

Snatch it Back live https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkKc88k_ZDQ

If you trawl the blog archives, you will find some of my own Van Morrison reviews.

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srseattlestreetnews · 8 years ago

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Seattle Street News 43, Election Aftermath

City News:

(DA Dana Oaks)

DA Dana Oaks Delivers Fair Elections To Seattle; Josephine Dzughashvili Elected Governor

Josephine Dzughashvili, Independent candidate, has been elected the next Governor of Seattle.

This was an historic election that came out of nowhere, hot on the heels of a corruption and murder scandal that forced the former governor Kenneth Brackhaven out of office. With such a short runtime before the election, the corporations had little time to bribe their stooges into office. But it wasn’t just the short turnaround that got us free and fair elections for the first time since Megacorps gained extraterritoriality and became above any law but their own. It was also the work of a number of heroes of Seattle. First and foremost is District Attorney Dana Oaks. Dana Oaks is the youngest District Attorney in Seattle’s history and was the lone survivor of the massacre ordered by Brackhaven that killed every other person in the DA’s office. That she survived spelled Brackhaven’s end and a new beginning for Seattle. She used evidence turned over by heroic shadowrunners implicating Brackhaving as successfully forged his resignation and prosecuted him for his crimes. If that weren’t enough, a number of candidates were revealed to be clones created by corporations to act as Megacorp Trojan Horses in the election. Oaks, aided by others, found them out and disqualified them. Next, Oaks dumped NeoNET from the contract running the elections after it was revealed that NeoNET was donating huge amounts of money to one of the candidates. Finally, when corporate security was suspiciously lax in protecting metahuman voters from the Ork Underground, Oaks and her associates organized a citizen escort program that stopped new voters from being harassed.

After all of this work, for the first time we have a candidate for the people and of the people, not for the corps and of the corps. Thank you Dana Oaks.

And now we have Josephine Dzughashvili as our Governor. Governor, you have a bit job ahead of you and lots of people who will want you to fail. But we, the people, want you to succeed. We need you to succeed.

And so let me ask that your first act as Governor be to grant UCAS SINs to all the SINless. Let us all come into recognition and citizenship. Your motto was “Seattle for the Seattlites.” The SINless are Seattlites, too. Let us usher in a new age of equality, recognition, and fairness. Governor Josephine Dzughashvili, the ball is in your court. Make us proud and live up to the faith we’ve put in you.

(Photo of the New Dragon by Reporter Thoth)

Purple Reign--(by Demmalition1)

There’s no feeling in this world quite as good as a full slab of ribs with extra sauce on Election Day. The taste of the delicate blending of spices and herb with the smooth texture of the meat ripping from the bone as you tear the sinew apart, gnashing and gnawing until you can’t eat another bite. The locals at the Big Rhino on Seneca St and 1st Ave were apprehensive of me at first. I mean, I look like the ghost of Christmas Future had one too many benders and hadn’t ate or seen sunlight in a year, a far cry from the raucous revelry that defined the gathered crowds there. The libations flew out of the tap faster than the barkeep could keep up, the rip-roaring crowds were eying to have my head before I had even sat down at the wooden communal long tables. But I’m a journalist, and money talks. Soon I was hanging out with Bot’Khams and Skraachas singing songs and folk tales with the little Orz’et I knew. I think I swore at a guy at some point and broke his nose, it all was a little hazy in there getting interviews for this of all historic elections. I learned quite a bit about the Ork Underground, the stuff that most normal people don’t know. Sure, you know of the 22 official entrances and the 35-50 square blocks of the cityscape that comprise the Underground (depending on measurement). You may even know of the roughly 100,000 residents that reside within her dark and damp womb of a civilization still trying to stumble into society. But do you know of the unofficial entrances? Of the best way to get from Pike Place to 4th Street? Do you know of the culture that has truly built in the dark corners of society?

After it’s official creation in the early 1900’s when the city decided to raise the street levels and how the Underground’s culture was seminally birthed in the hellfires of the Night of Rage in 2039. Born out of distrust and fear, it hasn’t fared well since then despite the great strides taken in having its own arts, shopping malls, and police force alongside those of Knight Errant who dare not venture past any official entrance like Lordstrung’s Department on 5th and Pine. After the elves left of their own accord and the dwarves evicted some time after, the trolls, orks and other HMHVV metatypes who make up this city beneath a city finally have the first official chance for their voices to be heard. The passage of Prop 23 in 2074 with the help of current candidate Josephine Dzhugashvili made the Ork Underground an official district within the city. Thus, they are now a people who will finally have a chance to steer their own future as they see fit alongside the rest of society on the surface basking in the glow of the warming sun.

This story would go on about how the election went smoothly, and how the rightful candidate eventually won in an election, which showed the righteous prospects of the democratic system that we have chosen to live under. But this is the Sixth World omae, and it’s not that simple here, is it? As I was exiting the Seattle Utilities Building where the Big Rhino is located, I heard the loud BANG! BANG! BANG! of several grenades not too far from my present location. Gunfire had erupted in our fair city as those who could not tolerate tolerance had decided to suppress the vote. Scanning the newsfeeds, I saw several reports of runner teams being contracted out by a certain political activist to escort vulnerable Ork Underground voters to their polling stations. The only way to keep the vote in the way of Brackhaven’s legacy and his Troll Killer friends was to kill those who disagreed with them. For ruling through fear and tyranny is so much easier than earning the trust and support of those you govern. It’s easier to silence the voices of those who choose to dissent with bullets and bombs than it is through reasoned discourse. And when talking fails and one is backed into a corner against the relentless march of progress, the only answer that these monsters know is to lash out and hurt as many people as they can. Filthy beasts.

Later I would learn that those explosions came from the Pike Place Market on Pike and 1st, just a block or so away from our location. Arriving at the scene there was a pile of bodies on the ground nearby with a sign that said “EVIDENCe”. Ares drone footage recovered shortly after the incident had shown Seattle’s favorite runners MMFEC on the scene, or at least that’s the word going around these days, some of them are difficult to make out. Many of the bodies in the pile were dead... good. They have no right in attacking the truly innocent who for the first time in their lives can cast a vote for change. Locals say that the polling bus drove a short ways away next to that public health hazard known as ‘The Gum Wall’ in Post Alley to continue voting. I chose not to pursue, they had been through enough that day without one more mentally insane nutjob hounding them.

On my drive back from some investigative legwork a few hours later, a heavy rain began to blanket the city, drenching it to its bones. A cold pallor had hung over the events from earlier today with all the violence inflicted upon it during a most momentous of occasions. So what was all the tension from? Reports soon came flooding in of a second attack on a crowd of protesters on University and 4th. The 405 Hellhounds and the Halloweeners had met up and started massacring a crowd of local protestors, but they were fought off by a team of runners. Security camera footage shows expert level sniping, spirit use, combat hijacking, and AoE lightning spell use taking out all enemy combatants. It’s odd how the Hellhounds, a group out of Bellevue that is harboring Molotov in the the Cedar Rim Apartments in New Castle, would be all the way out on University St. which is at least 30-45 minutes away on a decent day without this election gridlock. They clearly weren’t fighting the Halloweeners over turf, no matter what the corporate shills might tell you on the nightly news. All signs pointed to trouble both ways. There’s clearly more to play here than at first glance, and this reporter will say that they were meant to distract and rile up emotions for what is to come later. Protesters aren’t the Blood Mountain Boys, they aren’t Renraku, and they aren’t deserving of the ire of Nightmare’s gang. So what is it?

I arrived to the scene of ganger attack, standing outside Dassurn Securities and Investments trying and see if I could glean anything from the locals or law enforcement nearby. Security cam footage was monitored at the time, and all I could get was small fragments of The Truth. Not good. Tensions were rising all over the city as the peaceful protests from earlier had turned heated despite the cool November air. I then started to make my way towards the bulk of the crowd to get more information for a better angle on the story.

The streets were stifling and the crowd was growing restless. The storm was vastly picking up in both intensity and sheer terror as there was something in the air even I could feel. Pure, unbridled hatred for everyone and everything swelled within me, as usual. But this was something else entirely, something unsettling in its tempo as if the music of a thousand choirs had started shouting to the heavens to strike down the heathens and bring about the apocalyptic end times. The crowds were bathed in the floodlights and vidscreen adverts from high above like New York’s Time Square. The air was cool with the collective breath of hundreds wafting above. The sewers beneath were steaming, adding to the ambiance of a night about to go horribly wrong. The rain-slicked pristine uniforms of Knight Errant Riot Control bathed in an unsettling glow against the crowd. The crowd itself seemingly incited by the high winds and the drenching rain, an election soon to not be forgotten no matter the outcome.

I made my way to a safe spot just outside the riotous crowd at 405 Pine St. right outside the mall. Police had erected barricades cordoning off the rioters into a large and unruly section of brutal and primitive peoples. They were no longer themselves, I could see it in their eyes as they swayed and thrashed in the dirge of human emotion coursing itself through their bodies. The bullet had hit the bone, shot through, and lodged itself in the sternum of the people. The tepid stalemate where the air seemed to hold still but for a brief moment had been shattered into a thousand pieces as an unquenchable rage had began to wash over everyone. It was going to get ugly.

Suddenly, the crowd was bathed in a sea of red and white, mimicking their rage as a flash briefing was shooting across all vidscreens in the area: MANASTORM! WARNING! SEEK COVER IMMEDIATELY! This was meant to help the people, not incite them to their next stage of panged frenzy and hysteria. It was as if a switch had been activated in all their brains at once, with violence erupting from every man, woman, and child there. Someone within the crowd threw thermal smoke grenades and lit the powderkeg.

The Knight Errant police force who was there to protect had given into their baser instincts as they began to move in with rubber bullets, tasers, smoke, tear gas, shields, truncheons, and boots at the ready. Like the Carthaginians encircling the Romans at the Battle of Cannae, the police locked rank and began to systematically move in and beat the ever-loving shit out of every head not behind the protection of a security officer’s helmet. I saw one man beg for mercy as a policeman hit him hard enough to knock out some teeth and the proceed to brutally stomp on his head with his heavy iron boots to the point where the man couldn’t be recognized even by his own mother. But something else, something interesting was happening in the pits of the Seattle Police Command Unit: the Hannibal of this slaughter was trying to prevent it! I saw Lt. Salazar Monroe barking over the horn trying to calm his own men, one of whom went by the name of Falstoff. Through careful handling of the explosive situation Lt. Monroe was able to reign in his own men and stop the tasing, beating, and outright assault of the innocents currently underneath the jackboot of cruel men. A swift and brutal punishment will be incoming I hope, Lieutenant, the same as in Boston. However, as you all know by now, that wasn’t the end of the night, not by a long shot.

From the heavens above erupted a loud CRACK as lightning struck the spire of the Shiawase Corporate tower on Thomas and Westlake near the Telestrian Industries building, a branch of Shiawase’s Seattle headquarters in Tacoma. This was immediately followed by more loud cracks, each increasing in intensity as if the gods above were punishing the city by whipping it into submission. I wouldn’t blame them after all of the horrid atrocities we had visited upon ourselves. Each crack increased with intensity again and again, bathing the crowds with the glowing light of a long overdue Rapture meant to smite the damned and wash this city clean of all its SINs. The final crack is what brought about an Eldritch horror from beyond the metaplanes and is the closest anyone will ever get to an honest to God religious experience. A goddamned dragon had ripped a hole straight out of its own physical realm and entered ours. With a glistening purple, teal, and indigo hue to its scales it roared into existence, defying all before it and looking with absolute menace at the civilization below with its ants scurrying along the electric highways and streets. It had the look like royalty of old, which often used the color purple in their dyes to denote their status above all others. For that reason I’ve decided to nickname it ‘Prince.’ Prince was not alone however, as it was fighting with viscous determination from being dragged back in by other creatures of the metaplane. Vines were constantly sheared off and rethrown on in a poor attempt to lasso it in. Further, giant metallic glowing bladed legs like those of a spider were trying to stab and drag it in to be consumed by whatever abominable horror existed from the great beyond.

Prince began to glow with the fury of a thousand suns as it charged up its foreboding spinal spikes. The air around it seemed to vibrate as a terrible sound filled the air. It launched a devastating ball of lightning at the Evo Corporate store, shattering the building and causing untold damage to both property and people. However, just as suddenly as Prince had appeared, it disappeared into the night. The rage that seemed to have everyone in its firm grasp subsided substantially, but not all the way. Many were coming to grips with what they had done, and police-coordinated busses had arrived to get the civilians out of the danger zone, protocol be damned. Chatter over unofficial channels indicated that a relief effort had been set up several blocks away from the danger zone, enough distance to process everyone and the events surrounding this crisis safely.

There was still much debate over the dragon, was it actually there? Or was it a trick of the mind of the people trying to process what was going on in one of the most intense recorded manastorms in recent memory. A certain signal floated across the Matrix, as I saw a certain someone modify the base code that was currently controlling the loudspeakers surrounding the event. Normally reserved for adverts and other corporate drek, it now was used to pipe soothing music through the speakers from a central mainframe in an attempt to calm everyone down. It succeeded, but not as much as this person may have wanted. The mall was now emptying out, with many people deeming it safe to exit and get away from others who had just moments ago rioted with reckless abandon. Amusingly, a rather funny mixture of Christmas music from the mall was being mixed in with the soothing loudspeakers, creating a rather unique harmony. This music, of course, was contrasted with the anguished wailing of the crowd which just moments ago had been violated by police brutality. Though I will say that in the end the music did its job, even if it took longer than usual to register.

Prince reappeared in all its splendorous glory a short while later, I but the onlooker. It charged up once more, horrible spines glistening behind the heavy sheath of rain, the cackle of electricity visible from far away via overhead drones. It launched again, hitting Saeder Krupp and blasting off the top 10 floors in a hail of rubble and glowing energy. An all-hands call went out on a wide-beam commlink channel from a protected source that requested any and all experienced personnel help deal with the dragon with a hefty payday in store for all involved. I had to get to Shiawase Tower to cover the events. The background count was increasing again, I think. It could just be me having to enter the lair of the beast once more.

On my way there, Prince circled above the city like a bird of prey looking for its next meal. It locked on to something, I could tell. Its gaze unmoving and its eyes unblinking it tucked in its wings and dive bombed the Mitsuhama shipping and receiving warehouse, obliterating both it and all the poor souls trapped inside. Whoever summoned this thing will pay, I’ll make sure of it. The last thing they will know is that this city does NOT forget any attacks brought upon it by atrocious people with demonstrable motives. Luckily, Prince was now being reigned in by an ent and what I can only guess is the horrible manifestation of a mind so depraved that Satan himself would shudder in fear. The all consuming rage seemed to lessen as well, all but confirming my theory that Prince is tied to the manastorm.

Arriving at the Shiawase building was quite the sight to see. Magic ebbed and flowed through the air, giving it an energy unfelt but by a select few of the population. A rhythmic humming seemed to vibrate from every raindrop and every pore of my body; very powerful magic was at hand here. Entering inside and taking the elevator to the 35th floor allowed me enough time to formulate a plan, but what does one do against a dragon? I decided to take as many photos as I could, hoping that this could be enough to land a few people in jail. I noted a suspicious lack of security personnel inside.

While taking the stairwell the rest of the way to the 50th floor plaza where the ritual was being cast, I heard a loud cackling again, much more ominous now that I was so close to the source. Prince let loose another attack, hitting the local Horizon Matrix and radio tower in the area, sending an overload signal across the entire network; increasing both background Matrix noise as well as the background mana count significantly. Reaching the 50th floor I got a ping from a local feed from a fellow reporter showing drone cam footage of a closeup of Prince. It really was beautiful with all its colors in full regalia on display. I peeked through the 50th floor stairwell door seeing what could only be described as an all out war between the runner team known as MMFEC and several men.

What’s most interesting is that these were no ordinary men opposing these runners, and a quick matrix search for their identification confirmed my suspicions that these three men looked like departed Shiawase executive Arislen, a little TOO much like him. These men were definitely clones of the departed ex-executive. The Shiawase motto of ‘Advancing Life’ holds up well, even if they have to ruin many other lives in the process it seems. These human favoring semi-metaist magic fetishists will stop at nothing to obtain power, being both the first megacorp and the last megacorp if they had their way.

With the battle raging at the top of the Shiawase building, I helped out where I could, lending a hand to Ma1nfram3 to gain control of the Stick-n-Shock turrets inside. A second person ran past with a package in hand, running back out just as quickly like a rabbit on novacoke. During the battle, even the Shiawase building itself was rocked as Prince seemingly knew it was being attacked and swiped at the building, showering glass onto those below. I knew when to leave, and exited the building as quickly as I could. About the time I got to the 38th floor I heard a final loud CRACK and went to the large picture window to peer out across the vast Sprawl. Prince had fought back the vines and blades tying it to the other side, cutting the umbilical cord and breaking free...

Now that Prince broke free, the rage from earlier was replaced with a calming and serene presence. Like a soothing massage, a wave of good vibrations went through my and many other bodies; it was simply unexplainable. The rain died down to a gentle trickle of water droplets and the mana subsided. But it was not over dear readers, not by a long shot. From the distance a bright orange dragon, Hesteby, appeared from behind the clouds, roaring and screaming her way to our newly birthed dragon. They ferociously clashed with one another and got lost in the rain clouds, lightning providing brief silhouettes of the two combatants. I made my way to the main floor lobby to a murder of runners at the base, all of whom were wondering what was happening above.

Finally, our favorite runners MMFEC exited the stairwell, entranced with the blunt of the calming spell which radiated out earlier. None of us among the crowd besides MMFEC knew exactly what had transpired above, but we knew that whatever had occurred was going to upend everything we thought we knew about the Sixth World. I wanted to probe them for information, but the haze that clouded their minds was far too powerful to penetrate. Any inkling of The Truth that I might get out of them would be too tarnished. The cool night air dissipated all sense that something momentous had occurred, leaving only the remains of a freezing rain. I stopped by ‘The Edge’ on 9th and Denny before heading back to the local watering hole in the Metroplex and returning home soon after.

And this is where I am now, dear readers. I wish I could say that I have all the answers to just what has happened tonight. I do not. I know nothing, unfortunately, save for this: we will not cower in fear going forward, for that is not what we residents of Seattle do. We do not lay down our arms and throw up our hands when tragedy strikes during what is supposed to be a time of jubilation. We will not go quietly into the night. We will not go without a fight. We will fight on. We will mend our wounds and rebuild our structures. We will bury our dead with a solemn grace that they deserve in remembrance. Tragedy strikes, so we will strike back twice as hard under the new leadership of Dzhugashvili and then strike back twice as hard again. For we are Seattleites, all of us. From the lowest SINless to the highest executive we will band together. We are the human, the elf, the troll, the dwarf, the ork, and all other metatypes that live within our city. Yell at the face of fear, turn away the face of anger, and spit upon the face of death himself.

Do not give up, ever.

Corp News:

Renraku Enters the Corporate Wars?

Renraku had long prided themselves on staying above the violent conflicts between other corporations. Renraku was so well thought of within corporate culture, that their corporate retreat facilities would often be chosen as the location for negotiations between corporations in conflict. This relative time of peace for Renraku was broken a few weeks ago when Renraku’s Heavy Industry was attacked. In the subsequent weeks, Renraku’s Red Samurai, in cooperation with Ares’s Knight Errant, have been busy investigating the attack and this week the results of their joint investigations have been made public. According to Renraku and Knight Errant the culprit is none other than Wuxing Incorporated.

In the immediate aftermath of the revelations, a Renraku spokesperson reacted, “We are a peaceful company, built on honor and tradition. We have done nothing but reach out to other companies to make a better future for all of us. This attack will not go unnoticed. Because we are an honorable company, we will not resort to attacking others like assassins in the night. We will face you head on, sword in hand, and you will know as you lie bloodied on the battleground that it is us you fought. It is what a man of honor would do.” Not much later Wuxing suffered violent attacks against both its Shipyards and Heavy Industry factories. Should one assume those attacks were co-ordinated by Renraku?

Of course there is one problem. Wuxing vehemently denies they were behind the Heavy Industry attacks, but the evidence does not look good for Wuxing. A Renraku executive with knowledge of the Red Samurai investigations gave this statement, “We are very concerned about our heavy industry sector, and when we were attacked we took immediate action. We made a formal and thorough investigation into the matter in collaboration with governmental officials and the help of the Ares Knight Errant. Or findings concluded Wuxing had attacked us. Our personal history with the AAA corporations back this investigation. While it is true we have reached out to Wuxing to collaborate in the past, we have never heard back from them. Nonetheless, while we were never allied with the Hong Kong base company, we have also never wished them ill will until we found them sneaking around in the night with their daggers aimed at our backs.”

Ares corroborated what Renraku reported, with an Ares Public Relations representative giving this terse response: Thank you for your interest, SEATTLE STREET NEWS! As I'm sure you know, Knight Errant is devoted to maintaining Peace and Order in the Seattle Metroplex. In the interest of this, Knight Errant was contacted by RENRAKU'S RED SAMURAI with evidence of WUXING's attacks against them. As this is an OPEN investigation, I'm afraid we cannot disclose the specific details of said evidence. The investigation's findings were bolstered by the fine work of LIEUTENANT MONROE's subordinates, who conducted all interviews with the Shadowrunnners in our custody, in accordance with the law. We are aware that WUXING has plead their innocence, as is often the case in matters such as these. Regardless of how WUXING chooses to portray themselves in the Public's eye, it should be remembered that Justice is blind. No further comment is available at this time.

Inside tipsters gave more information on the Knight Errant/Red Samurai investigative task force letd by Lt. Monroe. Monroe apparently has found initial success through the apprehension of a runner team called Griffin’s Fear, made up of Blue Papa Delta and X-Ray. It was apparently this team of runners who attacked Renraku’s Heavy Industry, and sources inside Knight Errant have leaked that Griffin’s Fear has sold out their employers and implicated Wuxing as the ones that hired them. In the immediate aftermath of Renraku’s declaration, an unnamed member of Wuxing had this response: “The inaccuracy of your investigations only reveal the inadequacy of your corporation.” But it did not take much digging to get more detailed and more official responses from Wuxing: Normally Wuxing is happy to comply with Knight Errant investigations, however given the fact that at the time of the start of this recent investigation Wuxing did not have a Heavy Industries subsidiary it causes one to wonder whether it is incompetence or corruption that prompted such an investigation. It is sad to see such a shameful showing as Knight Errant generally does a good job at keeping the peace. That being said Wuxing had no part in any attacks on Renraku's Heavy Industry so as long as assurances can be made that any investigation will be handled unbiasly we are happy to aid in whatever way we can to discover the ones truly responsible for the attacks in question.”

Wuxing claims that because they had no Heavy Industry presence at the time of the attacks, that they could not have launched the attacks against Renraku. This is a compelling argument, however, it is possible to launch attacks in a sector one does not have a presence it…it is just more expensive to do so. In response to the leaks from the taskforce and Wuxing’s protestation of innocence, taskforce leader Lt. Monroe, replied, "Sounds like someone jumped to conclusions about who did what. Or that these contractors are covering. Either way, when I get back, I will have a very long discussion with whoever got this collar."

How will all of this shake out? It is unclear. However, Wuxing doubled down on their claims of innocence. “In response to the accusations that Renraku made regarding the attacks on their Heavy Industries subsidiary Wuxing had no part in them in any way. We don't know if these accusations are due to treachery on the part of another Corporation or if Renraku is intentionally spreading these lies to further some agenda of their own. In your accusations you mentioned honour yet your actions have shown none, Wuxing however will show you true honour in that we will refrain from retaliation this once. We recommend that in the future you work on improving your investigatory abilities to hopefully avoid any further embarrassments such as this.”

Wuxing opened up the possibility of burying the hatched, and maybe Renraku will accept? A Renraku exec responded, “As to what is next? That is solely up to Wuxing. We are, of course, always amenable to peace, but they must know that we will not lay down and take any attacks that come our way.”

What will happen in this corporate war? Is it over almost as quickly as it began? Or will it continue? Let’s hope that there won’t be anymore casualties on the streets of Seattle.

Reflections on the Shipping Market

The article is one of a series looking at the current state of individual corporate subsidiaries in the Seattle Metroplex. This particular issue focuses on the Metroplex Shipping.

The Shipping market is not a particularly large market in Seattle with a value of 94.2¥B, yet it is one that continuously draws a lot of interest. There are five megacorporations with major shipping presence in Seattle: Wuxing (31.9%), Renraku (25.4%), Evo (16.1%), Shiawase (13.5%), Ares (12.1%). Shipping, which is crucial to any corporation’s ability to function globally, has traditionally been a small market in Seattle, yet it has generated a lot of interest. Ares, which had a shipping division, sold it to Shiawase, only to create a new shipping division not much later. Renraku is also a new megacorp in the Shipping market. However, even if a corp doesn’t have a Shipping division, everyone seems invested in Shipping one way or another.

SSN reached out to Wuxing, Renraku, Evo, Shiawase, and Ares for comment on their view of the market. Ares had little to say, though remarked “Considering the thought and care and effort that Ares puts into all of its products, preparing them for delivery around the world and handing them off to strangers is simply not an option. We all remember what happened aboard the Wuxing Cargo Container vessel not so long ago.” For Ares, its Shipping division is a way to keep control over its own destiny, and it seems to be that way for most megacorps.

The newest corp on the shipping dock, Renraku, focused on the way that their investments in shipping help Renraku remain diversified and successful between the different parts of its megacorp: “If Heavy Industry is the backbone of a corporation, shipping is the blood. It feeds production, and feeds research. Through shipping we are able to take locally produced materials and create a global market. It is how we take raw ore and minerals from the Americas and turn it into processors and Trideo machines on the opposite end of the globe.

Because of this important aspect, not only does shipping help create jobs across the globe, through making global trade easier, shipping brings people together.

On a personal level, shipping has been a large boon to us recently. While we at Renraku can not claim to be the largest in any specific sector, we can claim a diverse portfolio, coming in second in five separate sectors. Shipping has been integral in maintaining such a portfolio, and sacrificing some capital to it shipping in the short term has allowed us to maintain our diversity in the long term. It allows us to transfer goods from one sector to another in the most efficient manner, making breakthroughs in research easier.”

Wuxing, one of the oldest and most established shipping Megacorps, had another take on the matter. Most especially interesting, considering the recent accusations made by Renraku that Wuxing was responsible for the attacks against their Heavy Industry, is the shade Wuxing throws against Renraku in this statement: “We have had a long history in shipping. It’s where we started and what led to us being able to do many of the things that we do today. While other corporations shipping focused on internal matters, we have had a lengthy relationship with smaller businesses and have strong ties to the smaller corporations of the world. This is not something to be taken lightly. It requires trust and the ability to work amicably with direct competitors. Our family approach has helped us in this portion of the shipping business, and is the cornerstone of what our other businesses ventures are based on. We are currently focused on finding new and innovative ways to secure our shipments from outside forces and better ways to ship internationally in general. Our short foray into heavy industry was part of this development and we learned much to further advance our shipping industry.

We are aware that other corporations are trying to expand their shipping subsidiaries and that it is becoming a closely contested market. We were intrigued by Ares return after abandoning its previous shipping subsidiary. The most noticeable development is Renraku’s continued growth. While others have had subsidiaries and may occasionally increase their market share, Renraku has made a concerted effort that the others have not. Given Renraku’s history with collecting extensive data on its consumer base and previous track record within the Seattle metroplex, most notably of course the Renraku lockdown, we wonder what shipping with Renraku might lead to for those who choose to use their services.”

SSN was able to discuss the Shipping market with one of Seattle’s premier financial analysts, recently rescued Saeder-Krupp executive Vorack, who had the following analysis to impart:

Vorack: Time for a quick little analysis on shipping as overall it’s been rather dull. It started off with just three corps interested in it at all. Ares, Shia and Wuxing but Ares suffered a massive catastrophe and quickly sold off their entire division off to Shia, my guess is this is the start of that little alliance the two of them share though. What’s impressive about this, and I think Shia would probably be a little upset about me saying this, is I know for certain that Shia actually had teams inside Ares espionaging them at the time, so good job for Shia and being sneaky. What seems odd, is shortly after Ares sold off their sub both Wuxings and Shias own segments got attacked, and they were only the two corps left, so who would do the attacking and what did they have to gain from it?

The only thing I can think of is maybe it was Evo trying to weaken the entire segment as they were the first corp to join in and just one month after the attacks, you could say they happened to get in just in time for the Shipping Wars™. That same week Shia was attacked repetitively in all of their segments, seems like an odd coincidence considering the history behind those two megacorps. Since then, you could say its been smooth sailing... he he he. Renraku joined up and Ares decided to get back into the shipping game a couple weeks after them. I can see why everyone wants to be part of Shipping, its necessary in everyday life. I have no problem admitting that us here at SK have recently used Wuxing as our primary corp when we need to move our projects or resources.

Though after last weeks announcement from both Ares and Renraku that Wuxing was the one that attacked our Heavy Industry, maybe we will be switching to a more honorable corporation. But think of us here in Seattle, we are a very long way from SK's main hub back in Essen and without a strong link between the two, we of course would be weaker as a whole. Shipping is needed in life and I’m happy to see that the time I considered the Shipping Wars™ has seen to come to an end.

Is Vorack correct? Are the Shipping Wars over or will the problems in Heavy Industry find its way back into Shipping? It seems not if this weeks attacks on Wuxing are any indication. Even if the Megacorps have calmed down in Shipping, that doesn’t mean that everyone is safe who sails the high seas or the highways. It is important to note that it isn’t just Megacorps who have violent intentions towards Seattles shipping lanes. It was only a few months ago that a Wuxing ship was attacked—most likely by organized crime and only a few weeks ago that our highways were plagued with magic fire and gun fire. Shipping is life blood to any city, and it is also a career path for many regular people without fancy educations. Let’s keep our shippers safe.

Features:

Once More 3--(by Breach)

Having followed Howling Coyote on his magical path to power, the world is a very different place than it was in 2000, but we haven’t run out of surprises yet. With mana levels still rising, in 2021 some critical threshold is passed, and on April 30th, one-in-ten humans (which means elves and dwarves were exempt) transformed into either an ork or a troll.

The media dubbed it “Goblinization”, and many feared a new disease outbreak was on its way - the scars of VITAS had yet to heal. Global responses varied, but by far the most common was fear, revulsion, and anger. Orks and trolls were rounded up and interned away from “normal” people (some places, not even elves and dwarves avoided this fate).

It is rumored that the death of Great Britain’s King George VII is due to his Goblinization and subsequent execution by the British military.

The worst of these “camps” would probably be Yomi Island, in part because of its longevity - it was not until 2062 that Japan would allow its metahuman population to live among them, and the scars of Yomi can still be felt today.

To add insult to injury, in the autumn of 2022, VITAS did return, killing another ten percent of the population - with deaths being disproportionately among humans and elves, as dwarves, orks and trolls all enjoy an increased natural immunity to the virus. The outbreak would likely have been worse, but magical treatments practiced by traditional medicine men in the poorer regions of the world proved incredibly successful in containing the worst of the disease.

In the wake of Goblinization and VITAS 2.0, world governments continue to crumble, many ceding power to private corporations in a desperate bid to remain relevant. Once public-trust functions, such as policing, increasingly get bid out to private contractors, leading to the rise of entities such as Lone Star and Knight Errant across the globe.

As governments collapse, corporate power continues to rise; ASIST has brought simsense to the world, and having bridged the gap between mind and machine, cyberware becomes increasingly common; the rich and privileged even look towards artificial prosthetics to enhance their natural abilities, not just replace lost functions.

Alongside this great technological advancement, magic becomes mainstream; on the back of the Great Dragon Schwartzkopf accepting a professorship at the University of Prague, more and more institutions around the globe start offering professional degrees in magic studies. In 2022, the term “Awakened” is first used to describe the magically active, and a field of studies follows in its wake.

But the worst was to come, because 2029 held another pivot point in our path: the first Crash.

We’ll talk about that next week.

Questions about history? Ask Breach! [email protected]

Seattle Street News is an independent activist news source released weekly on Tuesdays or Wednesdays

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