#it's like “if death meant going off stage long enough to switch costumes would you slow down or speed up” or something

[a-passing-storm]

Haunted and Invisible Monsters go hand-in-hand, to me.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty-two: sticks and stones

Marla had run back home for a few moments so she could change into her witch's robe but for the time being Sam, Aurora, and Belinda gathered on the far side of the room with Cliff, Frank, and a couple of Bloody Maries. Belinda adjusted the threads on her white dress with those blue scissors while in their art class, but she still managed to look like a doll as she had originally imagined. Sam glanced about the room in search of Marla and Charlie somewhere on the floor.

The interior of L'Amour had been decorated with shiny black and orange garlands. Clusters of little orange and white gourds hung all along the bar behind them. Orange and dark yellow lights shone down upon their heads, but every so often, they switched over to a soft purple. The whole room smelled of pepper courtesy of the Bloody Maries and cinnamon courtesy of a series of scented candles behind the bar to keep the place from reeking of alcohol and God knew what else. Every whiff of the cinnamon made Sam think of the cup of hot chocolate she made for Cliff and she knew she would have to make more of those for him following that night.

“It's gonna be a bit before they're coming back, though,” Frank told her at one point: his lush dark hair brushed over his shoulders like the ears of a dog. He awaited Charlie and the black and white Kiss face paint, given he already had a low cut white shirt on and extra tight black leather jeans as well as high heeled black boots which made him appear taller than he had originally appeared before.

But then the Cherry Suicides took to the stage in their black pointed witch hats: Zelda ducked behind her drum kit with her hat off kilter on her head. Sam noticed that was the only thing she had on to even remotely resemble to a witch's costume.

“Consider yourselves lucky, New York City,” Morgan announced into the microphone; Sam noticed she had on bright pearly orange lip gloss on her dark lips painted on in stripes so it looked like she had caterpillars on her mouth, “we've got a series of new songs in honor of this show here tonight. We haven't even debuted these back home in Rhode Island! The first one was helped on by a woman—you may've heard of her, she's more batshit insane than we are. Her name is Wendy O Williams.”

Frank yelped out at the sound of her name.

“It's called 'Scream for Me'!”

Zelda tapped on the cymbal closest to her so it made a noise akin to a bell. And they were all met with an intense wall of sound courtesy of Rosita and Minerva; Zelda's hat stayed in place atop her head as she pounded away as if she was a blacksmith swinging her hammer. Morgan brought the head of the microphone close to her striped lips: the first notes out of her mouth were low and harsh, but strong and tight.

“Morgan really upped her scream game, didn't she?” Cliff said to Frank.

“Yeah, she did!” Frank brought his glass of Bloody Mary close to his mouth but he never took a sip.

Belinda gaped at what she saw before her. Her eyes were wide with amazement, and she held onto her skirt as if she was stepping over a puddle. Sam and Aurora glanced at one another. A Halloween show needed a girl who could scream on a song of revenge like it meant business. Not a girl who was under the knife, but rather she was giving the knife to someone who asked for it.

Sam glanced over to the left side of the room, to Louie, who stood next to the side doors wrapped in a heavy black coat with a big hood upon his head. She spotted something shiny and pointed behind him—a bit triangular point upon a long dark pole. And she realized he was Death, and he could prance around with that thing and take under one of the souls before them at any given moment. He flexed his fingers and she noticed some white markings on the back of his hand: even from a distance, she could tell those were bones. Skeleton gloves for a good costume!

“There's Marla!” Aurora pointed out, and Sam and Belinda turned their attention to the right side of the room.

Indeed, they recognized Marla's violet hair on the far side of the room. Right before her was Charlie and his head of thick dark curls, and it took Sam a second to realize they were slow dancing to the music. Such a morbid song about killing someone for fun and then eating them and yet they danced as if it was a simple waltz instead. Charlie twirled her as Zelda unleashed a drum solo which followed Morgan's last powerful screech. A drum solo followed by a short picking guitar solo courtesy of Minerva and her big floppy witch's hat.

A guy in front of them punched another person in the face and Belinda lunged back at the sight of it, but Cliff and Frank laughed out loud at that.

The Cherry Suicides played another new song, called “Broomsticks”, followed by another one called “Bitches' Brew” and another one called “Dia de Los Muertos”, the latter of which Morgan let Rosita sing and in Spanish to boot. The whole entire time, Zelda never lost her pointed witch hat even as she played at a quick pace.

Charlie let go of Marla at one point and she disappeared behind the bar for something. She returned to their side with a series of what resembled to little white pearls on either of her hands, and she handed one of each to Belinda, then Sam and Aurora: Sam held up the pearls to the violet light for a better look at the little dots on the sides. Little skulls of different colors.

“Of course, Day of the Dead!” Aurora proclaimed as she threw the necklace over her head. Belinda and Sam followed suit.

“They're candy!” Frank added as Marla took the black and white make up out of her purse.

“I dunno if you'd wanna eat them, though,” she pointed out. “At least, that was what Charlie told me. But they're for Day of the Dead, though!”

The violet lights gave way to the golden and amber ones but Marla was only able to paint a black and white star on the side of Frank's face. Indeed, the next new song the Cherry Suicides debuted was called “White Star” and the four of them sang in unison. Even with her being seated behind the drum kit, Sam wished she could hear more of Zelda's singing voice. She yelled during the chorus but her voice carried enough to where she wondered if she could sing something to exemplify her voice.

By nine o'clock, they had finished up their Halloween set and Zelda chucked a handful of candy to the audience. Marla waved at her and she pointed in her direction. The four girls disappeared behind the curtain on the side there and the amber lights returned to their rich deep violet.

“It's okay, Charlie didn't get the make up on either,” Marla assured Frank, whose face fell when he realized he missed the full make up. “There's always a Day of the Dead celebration for later, though. We can do that tonight if you wish. Halloween into the Day of the Dead. Have it all as part of Samhain.”

“True. But it's still Halloween, though, Marla.”

Sam turned her attention to Cliff, who sipped on the remainder of his Bloody Mary. She thought about their little potential trip back out West to visit each other's parents, and she hoped they could do it on what money they had.

She then felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned around: Zelda stood behind her with her witch hat still off kilter upon her head and with a handful of salt water taffies held out before her.

“Ooh, yes please!” said Sam as she took the bright pink one for herself. Cliff meanwhile took the dark brown one.

“Root beer,” he noted while he unwrapped the piece of taffy. “You ever been to Virginia City?”

“Me?” Sam asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Not since I was little, no.”

“Maybe when you and I go visit our parents in a couple of months, we can go there for a day or something.”

“Ooh, yes! Sounds like a plan.”

“Just looking at these taffies made me think of Virginia City and the candy shop there.” Cliff slipped the taffy into his mouth and he squinted his eyes from the contrast of taste, between the root beer and the tomato juice. Sam giggled at him as did Belinda and Aurora, but he took it in stride. A Legacy show plus a meeting with her parents as well as his, and then a trip to Virginia City. It was all something to bear in mind even as Cliff returned home to California in time for Day of the Dead itself, and the whole prospect of the trip remained firmly on Sam's mind for a whole two weeks until she crossed paths with Joey on the way home from school one afternoon.

The sun hung low over the school buildings with the heart of autumn and Sam was sure she had failed her midterm for art history. She had no idea what had happened in that last week: her memory had fallen short with the exact art movements and Bill seemed to scrutinize her every move. It didn't help matters that he was still her counselor for that whole year, either.

She walked out through the front door only to be met with little snow flurries and that head of jet black curls near the curb.

“Hey, Joey,” she greeted him, complete with a nervous smile. “What're you doing here?”

“I had to ask around a little bit 'cause I couldn't fully recall your schedule,” he started as she descended the stairs, “but I just haven't seen ya in a while.”

“Not since the album was released,” she told him as she adjusted the lapels of her jacket.

“Yeah, and we go on tour soon, too,” he added.

“Already?” she asked him as she remembered Thanksgiving was only a week away.

“Yeah. You put out an album and it's necessary to promote it, too. So I wanted to see ya before those big things happen soon.”

Joey huddled closer to her as they walked side by side to the corner: the faded soles of his black leather boots crunched on the fresh fallen snow all around them.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” he offered her.

“I'd love that,” she said as they glanced in either direction of the snowy street. The flurries had started a mere few minutes ago and yet the New York streets were already a rich shade of off white. Over them stood a blanket of darkness held up by the skyscrapers and the scraggly dark trees, made dark with the incoming winter. He lingered closer to her as he led her across the pavement to one of the coffee shops on the other side.

Once they were safe and sound in that dry warmth, Joey turned to her with his brown eyes large and soft like a couple of chocolate drops.

“It's like that one night all over again,” he recalled, “the night we saw Legacy together down at L'Amour.”

“I know, right? Except this time, it's actually almost winter.” He turned his head to the counter behind him.

“Coffee and cake,” he said.

“Coffee and cake?”

“Coffee and cake.” He gestured back to the cake pops near the cash register.

“Oh, cake!” And Joey chuckled in response to that. They took a seat by the window as it began to frost over with the increasing snow.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked her in a low voice.

“Of course.”

“There's a part of me that wants to start playing hockey again,” he said as he ran his gloved fingers through his thick black curls.

“And?” She shook her head.

“Well, I think it'd interfere with touring and doing stuff with Anthrax.”

“And why are you telling me this?” she asked him.

“'Cause I showed you my hockey stuff. I've been trying to do that with the guys but they seem more interested in what goes on down here in the City than what I might have in store.”

Sam knitted her eyebrows together at that.

“Have you asked them about it?” she coaxed him.

“Yeah, I've told Frankie about it 'cause he's the other athlete here with his baseball and everything. But I haven't really heard much, though.”

“Maybe we can do another round of hockey again,” she offered him. “Like just you and me again.”

“Oh, yeah, do that for real!” he said and his face lit up. “We can do that before we go on tour with Metallica this March.”

She gasped at that. Cliff never mentioned them when he told her about it!

“You guys are all going on tour together?” she sputtered.

“Yeah!” He stopped in his tracks. “Wait. You didn't know that?”

“No!”

“Oh, damn.” Despite his dark sun kissed skin, a soft warm blush bloomed across his face. “Well—I don't think I was supposed to tell you that, but—you are a friend to us. We told you about Spreading the Disease while it was still in early production after all.”

“And now I do know!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, and you should definitely come along if you can, too—you and the girls.” He stood to his feet to fetch their cups of coffee. She kept her eyes fixed on Joey's slender body, made even more slender and elegant by his fitted black overcoat and his black jeans. Cliff never said anything about their touring with another band, let alone them, but she nodded her head at that. He did ask her to come along, too: there was no way she could hold onto that. And there was no way she could hold onto that when she had other things to worry about, like her art history midterm.

A few more things to worry about as well as her trip out to the West Coast. She knew that if Cliff would leave out details, she could leave out details herself: it only made sense to her. Joey soon returned to the table with the cups of coffee in either hand and a pair of cake pops in between her fingers. No sooner had he taken his seat again, his expression turned serious.

“By the way—referring back to the question I brought up to you back on birthday.”

“Oh, that!”

“Yeah. So—again, take all the time in the world if you still haven't thought of anything. But—have you, though?”

“Yes,” she replied with haste, such that it took him aback.

“Really?”

“Yes. I'll share it. I'll share that full body drawing. I promise.”

Joey hesitated for a second, but then he picked up the little red cup and raised it up in between their faces. Sam picked up her cup as well and they tapped the edges together. They took sips from their espressos at the same time.

“So late March?” she asked him as she held her cup with both hands around the base.

“Yeah. So we can do the thing with the hockey any time between now and then.”

“What're you doing for Thanksgiving? I only have that Thursday and Friday off but it's still days off, though.”

“Goin' to visit my aunt and uncle in Rochester. What're you doing for Christmas?”

“Going to visit my parents back out West.”

“Oh, shit. So—how 'bout some time after New Year's?”

“Sounds like a plan.” She raised her cup again and they gave each other another toast of the red coffee cups, and they took a drink in unison once again.

“Mind if I walk ya home?” he asked her as he pocketed two of the four cake pops into his coat pockets.

“Not at all. I have homework, anyways.”

“Alright, let's get a move on...”

Without another word, Joey and Sam took the subway back up to the Bronx. She offered to let him sleep in her apartment again but he assured her it was alright for him to head on back upstate that evening.

* * * * *

It was a whole five days before Christmas and Cliff bunked with her that weekend before they made the flight out to Reno. They were going to visit her parents first in Carson City, followed by his parents in the Bay Area. She had packed her things over Thanksgiving break, including her journal, her good pencils, her colored pencils, and some of her paints. She knew she would have to make something for her parents for Christmas. Add to this, it was a difficult task for her, but she managed to tell her parents about Cliff over the phone.

“He's from California, too,” she added to Ruben. “So he's gonna introduce me to his parents.”

“We'll be waiting for you kids, though,” he promised her.

Meanwhile, Cliff had called a cab for them the day before their flight, and thus, by the time she locked the door and told Emile where they were going, he stood out in the snow in anticipation. As she ducked out of Emile's apartment, she recognized Aurora's purple jacket on the back of his couch. She made a mental note to ask her what was going on by the time she returned home.

Sam bowed out to the street, where Cliff awaited her with their suitcases on the cleared out sidewalk and the big yellow taxi posted up at the curb.

“Are you ready?” he asked her once she came within earshot.

“I was born ready,” she replied as she picked up her bags from the sidewalk and Cliff offered to take them from her. Sam handed the one in her right hand and he set it into the trunk of the taxi. She knew Aurora was back in Emile's apartment but she need not go back to say good bye to her because her friend knew where she was going.

The two of them climbed into the back seat of the taxi and they proceeded on to the airport for the flight out to the Bay Area. It almost felt like a return to home for her, but it simultaneously also didn't. She was going back to the West Coast to visit her parents for a couple of weeks but she was also leaving her home for the place she had wanted to leave for a time.

Once they were inside of the cozy warm and dry back seat, Cliff took off that felt hat and set it upon his lap. Sam spotted the silver skull ring on his right ring finger and she thought about a ring for herself. She swore that, on the ride over to the airport, little white flurries of snow fluttered down from the heavy gray sky overhead. Even if it started to snow on the ride over at any given moment, it would add to the whole feeling of the ride, even if the traffic collected and worsened along the way.

She wondered if any of the traffic or the clouds over them would clear out by the time they left the tarmac. Indeed, when Cliff held the car door for her and she slid out to the sidewalk herself, little flakes the size of nickels floated down from the sky.

“We better get a move on, my lady,” he said to her as he took their things out of the trunk.

“Yeah, get a move on unless the flight gets cancelled,” the driver called after them. Sam and Cliff ducked into the airport and they hurried to the terminal. Lucky for them, the snow hadn't picked up as much by the time they checked in and took their spots right behind first class.

They took off within time: Sam peered out the window to her right and she watched the New York skyline fall away into the pure white of the blizzard.

“Good bye, New York,” she muttered. “I'll be back as quick as possible.”

“Yeah, I'll get you back home in time,” Cliff promised her as he set his hat on his lap once again.

“My parents never converted my bedroom to anything else,” she told him, “so we can sleep in my old bed together, even when we make the first little day trip over to the Bay Area.”

“I was wondering why we didn't get a hotel,” he recalled. “That's definitely a day trip thing, too, because—I think—I think, anyways, Legacy is actually playing a show tomorrow for the solstice. I'll have to call Eric first about it. Good thinking.”

“It was actually my dad's idea,” she pointed out. “He suggested you meet them first and then I meet your parents the next day.”

It was a few hours before they made their layover in Kansas City first: another few hours, and Sam recognized the section of the Sierra Nevadas in between Reno and Lake Tahoe, the latter of which was as pitch black as that darkness a few hours before them. Sam shivered in her seat and she couldn't resist feeling butterflies in her stomach all the while.

She knew her parents would be welcoming of him, but she still crept along the walkway at a slow pace. If she could shrink back into the wall, she would do it, especially when they rounded the corner.

“Cliff, this is my dad Ruben, and my mom Esmé,” she managed to sputter out with a straight face. He towered over especially Ruben, and Esmé stared up at him as if she was star gazing. But they both greeted him with hearty hand shakes and welcoming expressions on their faces.

“So Sam says you're a musician,” Ruben recalled as they congregated away from the terminal.

“Yeah, I'm a bassist,” said Cliff, and he adjusted his hat. “My background is in classical music and country.”

“Wow!”

Meanwhile, Esmé turned to Sam with her hand tucked in her pocket.

“Hold out your hand, dear,” she told her; Sam did just that with her right hand and closed her eyes. Ruben burst out laughing at something, which in turn felt like a dead weight had come off her shoulders. She didn't feel it, but Esmé leaned into her face.

“Okay.”

She opened her eyes to find a deep red stone embedded on a silver ring on her middle finger. “Oh, wow!”

“I've had that ring for so long,” Esmé said; Sam took a closer look at the ring itself and she made out the sight of a pair of serpent heads on either side of the stone. “It's a garnet.”

“It's beautiful, Mom—thank you.” Sam put her arms around her mother and Ruben offered to drive them back to their house for dinner and some wine. She never got the chance to show Cliff the ring until they turned in for the night. The whole evening, she kept one eye on Cliff and Ruben as they talked about all manner of things and she helped out Esmé with the wine and the accompanying cake and cheese. By a quarter to midnight, Sam changed her clothes and she crawled into her old bed. All those old feelings and memories returned to her once she lay her head on the pillow. Cliff crawled under the blankets next to her.

“I like your parents, babe,” he confessed.

“That—makes me so happy,” she said, and she lifted her hand out from under the blankets so she could take off the ring. In the dim light, she showed it to him.

“This is a garnet ring,” she told him. “It belonged to my mom for a long time but she told me I could have it, though.”

“Have it for the two of us, I assume?” he asked her.

“Exactly, yes! I was hoping to have something for myself. You know—given you have that skull ring and whatnot.”

“Aw, Sam, you didn't have to do that.” Cliff rolled over onto his side so his face could be much closer to her own.

“But I wanted to, though,” she insisted and he brought a hand to her chest. They were at her parents' house and yet he already put a hand on her. But he hit it off with them so well, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

The next day, given they didn't have a car for themselves, Ruben and Esmé drove Cliff and Sam over the pass to the Central Valley, followed by the Bay Area. Cliff guided them to the venue where Legacy were about to play for the night.

“The two of you can come along with us if you wish,” he offered them.

“That's real kind of you, Cliff,” Esmé replied to him as she turned around a bit in the front seat. “But, Ruben and I have some Christmas shopping to do, though.”

They dropped off Sam and Cliff outside of the little club on the corner, and he led her inside to the backstage area. It felt so odd without Marla and Aurora there with her, but she was eager to have Cliff by her side and with his arm around her as they stood on the balcony right over the stage.

Chuck stood at the front of the stage with the microphone in one hand and for a good long minute, all Sam could think about was Zetro. Zelda's friendship with him. If they were still friends with each other or if something went on between them. There was so much more to Zelda she needed to learn about as well. But the second he opened his mouth and sang those first notes, she could only focus on him.

Eric's long black hair spread over one side of his face so she couldn't see his expression. She spotted Louie behind the drum kit, and he barely moved about, much like Zelda herself. Her eyes wandered over to Greg and then Alex, the latter of whom stood on the edge of the stage with a dark shadow over his head and shoulders. It felt so right to stand there to watch them on the first day of winter. Rich dark hard music in junction with the lack of sunlight and the menacing bank of fog.

She glanced up at Cliff and he glanced back at her, and then she gestured to Alex.

“He looks so little,” she remarked.

“He isn't, though,” he pointed out. “He's a big little boy.”

He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke again.

“I have an idea.”

A couple of songs later, and Cliff guided her off of the balcony. He never let go of her hand as he brought her to the backstage area, the narrow strip of floor about the width of a couch between the main stage itself and the two dressing rooms. Sam kept her attention on Legacy while Cliff argued with one of the stagehands. She watched Louie and his minimal movement, and yet his dark hair flew about like the arms of an octopus. Alex sidled over to Eric so they could solo together following Chuck's harsh bellow that was his singing voice. She spotted that little white pearl over his brow, still bright despite the shadow over his head.

Cliff tapped on her shoulder which broke her concentration.

“We can go back here but you can't go in the dressing rooms, though,” he confessed with a shrug and a solemn look on his face. “Apparently that's all they have at the moment.

“Damn it!” she cried out over Louie's final cymbal splashes.

“I think that's it.” Cliff guided her over to the dressing room on the far left side of the corridor. “Yeah, let's get out of the way—” She stood off to the side as the five of them made their way off the stage and the team of roadies picked up after them: Chuck and Eric darted into the one on the right. She opened her purse even though she had nothing with her of interest, but Cliff guided her to the room in front of them and she halted right outside of the door. Over the chatter to her right, their voices floated through the sliver of a doorway before her.

“Hey, Cliff!” Alex's voice sounded so odd after what she had seen before her; so big and deep in comparison to the lanky dark haired placid faced boy at the edge of the stage.

“Hey, Alex—I just wanted to see how you were doing and—I wanted to ask you something real quick.”

“I gotta get a move on, though,” he explained at a quick clip. “You know—it being Christmas and whatnot.”

“Christmas, not Hanukkah?”

“Hanukkah was a week ago,” Alex pointed out. “I'm just wearing the yarmulke right now just 'cause. It's either that or get labeled as 'meshuggah'.”

“As what?”

“'Meshuggah.' It's my parents' way of saying 'batshit insane.'”

“Sounds like a pretty good name for a band, though.”

“I know, right? And, add to this, I also have a curfew. Yeah, I have a curfew over Christmas break and I'm seventeen.”

“Aw, that's a shame,” Cliff replied, “I was hoping you could meet my girlfriend.”

“I can sign something for her, though,” Alex pointed out as he zipped up his guitar case. “It's not easy, like I can't always go out and meet people but I can always make an offer and do that, though.” Sam raised her eyebrows at the sound of that. He was seventeen years old and yet he already talked like that, as if he had been at it for twice that long. This young boy already knew business and spoke like he meant it.

“What's her name?” Alex asked him.

“Sam,” said Cliff. “Samantha, but she goes by Sam.”

“The dynamic Samantha! What does she do?”

“She's an art student.”

There was a pause, then the rustling of paper on the far side of the room.

“Really? That's like the fifth art student I've met—well, not exactly.”

“Met in a de facto manner.”

“Right, right...” There was another pause. Sam held still outside of the door and she kept her attention fixated on the slight noises in that room. Cliff laughed at something and Alex let out a soft little snicker.

“So when do you guys play again?” Alex asked him in a low voice. “The twenty ninth?”

“Yeah. The twenty ninth and then New Year's Eve. You gotta be there.”

“I'll try to. I mean, if I have to drag my brother out from his hiding spot so I have someone to say that I can go in as a seventeen year old kid, I can.”

Sam's mouth dropped open. Seventeen years old and his smarts were already far advanced than that of someone her age!

“Anyways—” Alex started, but he never said anything further than that.

“Thanks, man, I'm sure she'll love this.”

“My pleasure, Cliff! Now, I gotta get home or my dad's gonna freak—”

Cliff returned out of the room with a little piece of rice paper in hand. Alex had sketched her a little rose with some black ink and wrote right next to it:

“To the dynamic Samantha, have fun with and take good care of Cliff and make sure he doesn't stay up too late on nights when he doesn't warrant it.

Stay as precious as a rose!

Alex Skolnick”

She smiled at that and she lifted her head in time as Alex ducked out of the room and put his yarmulke back on his dark head. Cliff towered before her with a warm little smile on his face.

“Thank you so much,” she called after Alex, but he strode on in the other direction and she had no idea if he heard her. He kept one hand on his yarmulke as he stepped through the back door and into the darkness of the night.

“I'm gonna treasure this,” she promised Cliff as he led her the other way to one of the side doors. They reached the street right as the San Francisco fog drifted in from the Bay itself. It wasn't the New York snow, but she still looked about the street in a daze.

“Merry Christmas,” he said to her in a low voice: she brought the rice paper to her nose, and she caught a faint aroma of cinnamon. The smell of Christmas.

“Merry Christmas,” she echoed back to him. “I never want this to end.”

“Me, neither,” he whispered back.

[inkribbon796]

Crackdown Ch. 2

Chapter 2: Little Wooden Soldiers

Summary: The heroes go to arrest three of Dark’s closest enforcers, and things seem to be going unusually smoothly.

A/N: Illinois, Bim, and Yan’s scenes are happening at the same time.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

Twenty minutes before Dark’s standoff with the heroes, Eric and Illinois were running around what should have been an abandoned warehouse but was full of a local gang that was being mind controlled by some cursed cat totem, it was also summoning stone creatures that ranged from human-like to amorphous amalgamations of rocks.

They ran around the warehouse like maniacs, Eric screaming and exploding rock statues into dust and rubble, and Illinois was close by taking care of the actual humans.

With the totem contained and its former human puppets unconscious the two quickly made out and left, Illinois calling the cops so that the gang would be arrested. This made sure the neighborhood was safe from them and Dark had one less rival group to deal with. Eric quickly changed out of his costume so they could walk hand-and-hand to a diner they liked to go to.

“So it do-doesn’t summon cat-s?” Eric frowned as Illinois slid the totem into a little pocket Void space in his hat. They were crossing a park to save on time, only a couple people still in the park.

“Nah,” Illinois put his hat back on his head and took Eric’s hand again. “Be cool if it could, be funny to watch probably. I know Kay would like something like that.”

Eric giggled as they walked out onto the street, “Tonight’s been a lot of fun.”

“Always the plan, dulcito,” Illinois winked, clicking his tongue and tipping his hat.

“So wh-ere are we go-ing?” Eric asked, smiling.

“You know,” Illinois smiled widely at him, nudging him a little as they stopped just shy of the sidewalk. “We go to Shannon’s and then, I don’t know, it depends on if you’ve got patrol early tomorrow.”

Eric blushed, looking away shyly, smiling.

“Nah,” Marvin cut in, snapping his fingers and a large magic circle that took up almost half the park. He jumped down from a tree as both Eric and Illinois’s feet became magically locked in place.

“Yer grounded,” Marvin told Eric, pointing to him as Marvin summoned giant playing cards that were glowing in a way Illinois did not like. “An’ adventure boy here is goin’ ta jail where he belongs.

“D-on’t h-h-urt him,” Eric choked out, pulling his away from Illinois’s hand, his hands erupting into dozens of explosions on his fingers and palms.

Abe stepped over, he’d been hiding behind a tree and had a TASER in his hands, Jackie zipping in to stand next to him and Marvin. “Come on, kid, this guy’s one of Dark’s most loyal enforcers, he’s bad news.”

“I’m fu-cking tw-enty,” Eric was starting to get frustrated.

“Dulcito,” Illinois called out, and Eric looked back at him. “It’s okay, I won’t even stay the night.”

“They ca-can’t just ta-ke you,” Eric reminded, his voice choppy with agitation and frustration. “Wh-What-ever ha-ppened, you were with—”

Illinois leaned in and Eric met him with a kiss. “We’ll have to take a rain check on that dinner date, sweetheart, but I should be out in an hour or two, even if the Old Man does post bail.”

Eric was escorted away from Illinois, the young hero looking upset and betrayed at Jackie as Marvin disabled the circle and Abe immediately started reading Illinois his rights and cuffing him, but he made sure his wrists were in front of him where everyone could see them. “Illinois Jones, you are under arrest for conspiracy, murder, and theft.”

As Abe started reading his rights, Illinois looked over at Eric and tried to give him a reassuring smile. A car drove up and Illinois let himself be put in the back with Marvin who looked braced to summon up something to further restrain him.

As they drove away, Illinois noticed that Eric was safely away from you. Illinois glared at Marvin as the magician plucked his hat off his head. “If you destroy that it doesn’t get rid of the magic.”

“Yeh should have called Dark when yeh had the chance,” Marvin reminded, the mage knew there was a little bronze that summoned Dark to Illinois’s location but he couldn’t see it. “Why not?”

“Pardon me for being a good boyfriend and not wanting to get him hurt,” Illinois shot back.

“I think yer scared ‘a Dark,” Marvin accused, a smug smile on his face.

“Unlike almost everyone in this town, I’m not afraid of Dark, I’m just not interested in playing meet the parents yet. Unless someone can bring Derek back from the dead so I can properly acquaint him with the heel of my shoe.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marvin dismissed in disbelief, the Irishman’s attention turning to his communicator. “Package secure, how’s everyone else?”

“Dorm 5 Killer under arrest,” Amy answered.

“We’ve got our end over here,” Bob answered.

“We’re done,” Bing spoke up, “heading back to the station now.”

“We’ve got Dark but who knows how long he’ll stay distracted,” Chase said over Marvin’s communicator.

~::~ ~::~ ~::~

Inside the infamous radio station that still ran Wilford’s program, despite all the stabbing and shooting he’d inflicted upon his various “guests”.

Bim was wrapping up shooting for his show and was excited to watch his dad work. The young show host had descended from the stage to find Wilford in a disagreement in the green room.

The argument was winding down by the time Bim walked in. But the event meant that Wil was already a little worked up and everyone already knew someone was going to wind up dead, and Bim was already starting to get the starting itches of a craving and if someone died, Bim might not need to hunt someone down. It wouldn’t even be the first time Bim had picked from one of his father’s mad kills, even if it took some of the fun out of the hunt.

“What happened?” Bim asked Wil, following him back towards the stage where they were setting up for Wilford’s show.

“They switched out one of my segments and only now just told me,” Wil grumbled angrily, his strides angry and purposeful. Then the madman saw the reason for his ire, a man who was in a tan trench coat with bandages over his eyes. He was talking with the show runner while he sat on set.

Wilford stomped over and Bim was braced for the gun to come out and blood to spatter the set, but as Wil started talking to the new interviewee Wilford seemed to be visibly calming down and eventually went to sit down.

Surprised and more than a bit disappointed, Bim threw up his arms and started back towards the green room. He’d wait for the gunshot there, Dark and the Producer were the only two who could stop his dad mid-murder.

So he waited and turned on the monitor to watch Wil as the show started. But as he watched his father open the show, he felt something like a heavy, invisible blanket fall over him and he was suddenly alone in the room with four heroes all in the room with him.

“Bim Trimmer,” UFO floated a bit off the ground, Amy’s hair tied back so it couldn’t be grabbed. “You’re under arrest for the murders and disappearances of ten people.”

As she began to read him his rights, Bim felt the room almost constrict around him. Robbie and Ethan were with Amy, Nate sitting in a chair by the door and the instant Ethan had pulled his aura dampening over Bim the singer began strumming slower music more befitting a lullaby. The result of Nate’s powers and Ethan’s dampening, unlike most other heroes, made Bim feel weird. The aura he’d inherited from Dark and Wilford fought being compressed into the ground, and for the first time in Bim’s life it could be visibly seen. It wasn’t the thrashing aura that Dark was infamous for, it clung to his body like a dark grey cloud that was tinged with purple.

“Get off!” Bim growled, his aura attacking Ethan’s like it was a virus, and Ethan reflexively pulled away.

Bim’s hand got halfway to the lapel of his suit coat and the bronze star hidden behind it that Dark had given him over fifteen years ago, scanning the room before his pride got the best of him, and he quickly pulled out his switchblade that Wil had etched with Bim’s name on the handle.

“You all have a death wish or something?” Bim demanded, his aura invisible again with Ethan’s aura dampening was off of him. “Do you even know where you are?”

“Wil’s not coming for you,” Nate reminded, still playing lullabies and classical pieces. “He gets tunnel vision on set, and nothing short of blowing the building will make him save you.”

“I can protect myself!” Bim spat. “I don’t need anyone to save me.”

Hidden by Ethan’s aura, Robbie appeared behind Bim and slammed his balled up fists into the back of Bim’s head and aided with some magical cuffs sewed into his sleeves the spell was strong enough to knock him out.

Bim dropped to the ground and slumped onto the ground. Everyone in the room froze, braced for Dark to show up but after a minute nothing happened.

“That was way too easy,” Ethan warned suspiciously as Robbie carefully picked him up.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Nate decided, subtly trying to hide how he was rubbing his arm. “Before Wil comes to his senses, or Dark finds out.”

Ethan extended his aura around them as they began to take Bim out of the station, Nate taking up the rear and Amy in the front. The whole group froze when a gunshot rang up, the death of the guest Wilford had second on his show.

But when Wilford settled back into his chair like a surly child, the heroes finished taking Bim outside to the same armored car they put Wil into whenever he was arrested. The car keeping his magic contained as he was driven to the police station, Bim starting to slowly come to as he was cuffed and Amy was contacting Chase and the others to let them know their part of the mission was a success.

~::~ ~::~ ~::~

Unlike the heroes had to do with Dark, Illinois, and Bim the third group didn’t have to worry about leading Yan into a trap. All it took was ambushing her in the street with one of Bob’s almost see through barriers.

Yan was slashing at Bob’s barrier with her katana, screaming in a mix of Japanese, English, and Korean.

“Look, we’re not going to hurt you,” Wade was trying to calm the angry, homicidal young woman from hurting anyone but at this point they might need to just stand here and wait for her to tire herself out. “We’re just taking you to jail with your brothers.”

“Fuck off!” Yan screamed at them.

“Here, let me try,” Patton smiled.

“Sure, knock yourself out,” Wade shrugged, stepping away. “Go nuts, pal.”

Patton moved in and placed his hands on the barrier, “Hey, you’re Yan right?”

She shouted something at him in Japanese that sounded as angry and insulting, as it was rude and loud.

“I’m Captain Morality, nice to meet you again,” Patton smiled, keeping his tone calm and even. “Look, we can’t let you out if you’re going to hurt people.”

“The only one I’ll hurt are you assholes,” Yan spat, but at least she wasn’t screaming which was a good sign. Patton was calming her down.

“So, we’re taking your brothers to the station and we want all of you in the same place,” Patton told her.

Yan was quiet for a bit as Patton kept trying to calm her down, with almost an unsure tone she asked, “Is Artie going to be there?”

Patton looked over at Bob and Wade who shrugged. So Patton leaned in, “Is that one of your brothers?”

“My biggest brother,” Yan smiled sadly. “He went off with my other brother and they never came back. The Old Man said he and my other brother work for the heroes now but I haven’t seen them in years.”

“Well,” Patton hummed, knowing the name Arthur wasn’t on the list but remembering what the Host had told him. “We’re trying to get all of you guys together to ask you a couple questions, so, yeah, he will be there.”

Yan chuckled a bit, “You won’t get Artie, he makes people disappear.”

“Well, we got some people that are hard to make disappear,” Patton promised.

Yan rolled her eyes and laughed at that, in a way reminded Patton strangely of both Dark and Wil, but that made sense to him because she had apparently lived with them for so long.

“So,” Patton smiled, “we’re going to bring you down to the station, and if you’re not going to help us we’re going to have to roll this thing all the way down there, and you might get motion sick.”

The young villain thought on that, clearly weighing her options. Wade and Bob held their breaths.

“Fine,” Yan grumbled, “but only because Artie might be there.”

After that Yan was more than a bit silent after that, just letting them arrest her and take her off in a car, Bob riding with them so he could make sure she didn’t escape and stayed in communicating with Chase and the other team leaders.

“You’ve got some freakishly creepy powers,” Wade told Patton.

“Oh, sorry,” Patton’s smile vanished.

“Nah, you’re not the only one like that, it’s just I rarely get to see it up close cause you live in the Gainesville area,” Wade apologized. “It’s just a good thing you’re one of the good guys.”

“Yeah,” Patton looked away nervously. “My powers are probably why the Host put me with you guys instead of UFO like Silver wanted. Think the others are doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Wade reassured. “I think they’re fine, they would have told us otherwise.”

Patton and Wade followed their group heading back to the police station.

[kiranerysismyhero]

Homeric Epic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807252

Jadzia drags Kira along on an odyssey on the holodeck

For @primatechnosynthpop on tumblr for the @sapphicstartrek fanwork exchange

“I do not believe you.”

Jadzia replied without turning. “No one asked you to believe anything, Worf. I was just letting you know that I’m busy this evening.”

“The major has expressed her disdain for the holosuites many times. She would not willingly join you again, especially after her experience in the Camelot program.” 

“Who said anything about willingly?” 

Jadzia smiled when she spotted Kira arriving at Ops. “Nerys! Perfect timing.”

“Oh?” Kira said, joining Dax at her station. “Why’s that?”

“You can tell Worf here that I did in fact get you to agree to join me in the holosuites tonight.” 

Kira sighed, but her expression wasn’t without mirth. “That’s right. Against my better judgement.” 

“Hey!” Jadzia turned to Kira, “I won fair and square and you know it.”

“Only because you violated the spirit of the rules!” Kira protested. “I spent all week fundraising the old-fashioned way, and you just spent a couple evenings playing Tongo and called your winnings ‘donations from the Ferengi waiters!’ You may have won the bet, but I wouldn’t call it fair and square.”

“Oh come on,” Jadzia argued. “Deep down, you wanted me to win anyway or you wouldn’t have taken the bet. You know I usually donate to the war orphan fund around this time of year anyway. That little spark of imagination within you just wanted an excuse to get some exercise.” 

Kira merely gave her a look. 

“If you two are finished bickering,” Worf interjected, “we have a meeting in the Wardroom in a few minutes.”

Jadzia turned. “We were not bickering.” 

“And even if we were,” Kira added, “what’s it to you?”

“We’ll make it to the meeting on time, don’t you worry.” There was a bit of playful condescension in Jadzia’s voice.

“I just meant-” Worf sighed. “I hate it when you two…” he gestured for the right words “...combine your sass.”

Jadzia smiled. “I suppose maybe we should save it for tonight.”

“I can hardly wait.” Kira’s voice was deadpan, but she wore a smile.

---

That evening Kira and Jadzia walked onto the turbolift as the next shift started their watch. 

“So,” Kira started, placing her hand on her hip, “are you going to tell me just what kind of holographic misadventure we’ll be having tonight?” 

“A classic from Earth, one of their foundational epics.” Jadzia mirrored Kira’s pose teasingly. “Don’t worry about the costume, I already picked up your toga from Garak.”

Kira eyed Jadzia with a bit of suspicion. “What’s a toga?” 

---

Kira was beginning to grow impatient with Jadzia’s absence. They were supposed to be running this program together, weren’t they? So why was it that Jadzia had decided to play some apparently minor character back on the island with all the narcotic fruits, if Kira and her crew were meant to leave that island and wash up here?

Speaking of Kira’s men, she didn’t much care for the holographic crew she’d been given. First she had to drag them all out of their lotus-induced stupor to get them back on track, and now they’d decided without her permission to raid this cave of the meat and cheese they found. She absently tangled her fingers in the wool of a sheep in one of several pens around the spacious cave. 

Kira was uneasy. The crew had insisted that the laws of hospitality would compel the person who lived here to grant them a gift that would aid them on their journey, but Kira had her doubts. By the look of the cave this dwelling belonged to someone or something rather large, and there was no guarantee that the occupant shared the same cultural rules of hospitality as her crew. 

As Kira rethought the plan to wait here to meet the homeowner, the ground began to shake with thunderous footsteps. The sunlight from the cave entrance was blocked out, the only remaining light the fire that had been lit by the now-quaking crew. A flock of sheep streamed through the darkened cave entrance, followed by whatever it was that cast a shadow so large. 

The gargantuan form, back turned, rolled a large stone into place at the mouth of the cave. With the only exit very much blocked and no idea what sort of giant creature it was whose food her men had helped themselves to, Kira felt anxiety pool in the pit of her stomach. At least the program was about to become a little more interesting than just trying to command a ship of buffoons, Kira mused. 

The figure turned slowly, standing up to its full height as it stepped closer to the light cast by the torches. It dropped the wood that it had been carrying with a crash that sent Kira’s men scrambling to hide. A voice like the rumbling of a volcano called out “Who is there?”

Kira took in the looming form before her. It was dirty, a bit lumpy, and approximately fourteen feet tall but the trail of spots from the bare feet to the misshapen temples were unmistakable, as was the twinkle in the big, singular blue eye. 

“Jadzia? How are you doing that?” Kira marveled. 

Jadzia switched back to her normal voice, albeit in a stage-whisper. “Imagination, remember? Don’t pull yourself out of the story!” 

Kira gave Jadzia a look that made it clear that she wasn’t moving forward without an explanation.

“Fine, technically I’m in a sectioned-off area of the holosuite controlling the cyclops through VR. It’s a hologram that just looks like me. Well, fourteen feet of me.” Even with teeth like mossy boulders Jadzia’s smile was charming. “Now back into character!” 

Her voice boomed out “Who are you?” 

Kira rolled her eyes but adjusted her posture to that of a brave leader speaking on behalf of her men. “We are Greeks, and come from Troy. We’re trying to return home, but adverse winds blew us ashore.”

---

Kira stood tied to the mast of her ship as her crew worked around her, wax plugging their ears. They had been warned of an island ahead on their journey where Sirens lured men to their deaths with irresistible song. Kira just knew Jadzia would be one of them. She had made sure that her men wouldn’t be drawn in by the siren call but her own ears would remain unplugged. Only, she wasn’t just curious to hear the Siren. She was ready to give her a piece of her mind. 

“First you were a hippy Lotus-Eater that helped drug my crew, then you were huge freakin’ Polyphemus and ate everyone, then you… ugh, I swear you picked this program specifically so you could frustrate me!” The fire in Kira’s eyes was giving Jadzia life, though admitting as much would get her in even more hot water with her irritated friend. 

“No,” smirked Jadzia in Siren form. “I just thought you’d look great in a toga.” 

Jadzia didn’t look bad in one herself, Kira thought. For this character Dax hadn’t used any fancy holographic tricks, save for a bit of a glowing aura that only accentuated her natural beauty. 

Not that that was the point Kira wanted to focus on right now, she reminded herself. 

“If you had to pick an old ‘Earth epic’” Kira punctuated the term with finger quotes, a difficult feat with her arms pinned to her sides, “you could have at least had us be on the same side.”

“But that would take the fun out of thwarting you again and again.” Jadzia’s grin made Kira want to ‘thwart’ her right in the face. 

“You said I would like this program better than Camelot because it’s about my character trying to get home to his beloved wife, who is meanwhile using all her tricks to keep suitors off her back and stay faithful...” 

Jadzia nodded. “No kissing of married women.” 

“... and yet here you are trying to seduce me, a married man!”

“It’s the nature of my kind,” Jadzia shrugged. “You resisted Circe well enough, you honorable hero. Besides, if it really bothered you, you could have plugged your ears like the rest of the crew.” Jadzia’s voice grew sultry. “My dear Odysseus, one might think you wanted me to seduce you.” 

A heat grew in Kira’s stomach as a blush formed on her cheeks. “Your choice of holoprogram,” Kira objected, “has cast you to pursue me twice now. Maybe you’re the one who wants the seduction to happen.”

“Yet you haven’t ended the program, or attacked anyone you’re not supposed to.” Jadzia pointed out. “You may object to the Siren calling to Odysseus, but maybe you don’t mind me pursuing you.”

“Maybe I’m exercising my imagination!” Kira spat back with a bit too much bluster. “Like what I’d like to do to you if I weren’t tied to this mast!”

Jadzia completely sidestepped the threat, purring “Maybe I should come aboard ship and find out exactly what you would like to do to me.”

“Maybe you should!”

Jadzia stepped off the island, her footsteps gliding across the water as she made her way to the ship. Within a few moments she stood on the deck face-to-face with Kira, who pulled at her bonds to lean closer to Jadzia. 

“Maybe I should untie you,” Jadzia murmured.

“Or maybe you could just kiss me already!” 

Jadzia couldn’t help but smile at the genuine impatience in Kira’s voice. Leaning in closer so that her lips were a breath away from Kira’s ear, she cupped Nerys’s chin with her right hand and whispered “Okay.”

Their kiss was long and deep. Kira’s senses were overwhelmed as the taste of Jadzia mingled with the brisk fresh smell of the sea air. Maybe the holosuites had their merits after all. 

“You know, this isn’t how the program is supposed to play out.” Jadzia smiled, breathless as she pulled back a millimeter. 

Kira wore a smirk as she went in for another kiss. “You know I like to make up my own endings.” 

[sunevial]

The Pianist

Commissioned by @zephyrus-gryphon (or more accurately, my way of thanking him for donating to my glasses fund)

A bit of a thought experiment, this piece follows the character from Death Parade, the Pianist. What might she been have like in life?

---

The lights dimmed, bathing the concert hall in gentle shadows until there was only a single white spotlight shining down on the stage. Space filling chatter fell to nothing more than the barest of whispers as eyes turned towards the main attraction of the night. There were no dancers in colorful costumes, no actors ready to belt out emotional lines, just a simple grand piano and a woman in black. She raised her arms, slow enough that it seemed they were breathing deep, and placed her fingers onto the keys.

 Light burst from the stage, grabbing audience members by the ear and demanding that they pay attention for just this short burst of time. It flowed, it swayed, it rose and it fell, it pushed them to the edge of their seats and flung them back until they were helpless to do anything except ride out the storm. If there was magic in this world, this was it, and they were getting perhaps their only chance to see it done by a master.

Perhaps it was lifetimes later when the spell broke; perhaps it was only minutes. The hall was left in stunned silence as the woman stood and gave a polite bow. Only then did everyone leap to their feet, applause breaking their stupor and reminding everyone that this was, in fact, not a dream. 

Among the commotion, a young girl remained with her eyes on the stage, drinking in the sight of the woman in black and the instrument at her side. She closed her eyes, desperately searching in her mind for a place to remember the song by so that she would never lose this experience, this memory. Music had found its way into her life, and she could never go back down the path she had started down. 

With wide eyes filled with wonder and resolve, the little girl tore her eyes away from a dream made manifest and tugged on her mother’s skirt. 

“Mom, I want to do that too.”

Her mother blinked a number of time, face softening with each one as she realized the determination in her daughter’s words. 

“It’s going to be a lot of work, you know. It’s going to take a long time. It’s going to be hard.”

The little girl simply nodded.

“That’s okay. I can do it.”

---

“Beside the bone fractures and the torn muscle tissue, not to mention you have a severe concussion and I still have no idea how you managed to survive a broken neck, there’s probably going to be quite a bit of nerve damage in your hands.”

The words jumbled together after that, meaningless strings of phrases that meant nothing and would mean nothing. Unable to so much as move her head, her eyes flickered without purpose between the harsh white walls and the harsher hospital lights. All manner of monitors for her breathing and her heart rate and who knows what else beeped in steady patterns, the sound maddening in its ever repeating loop. There were so many wires in and around her body that she was honestly surprised the doctors hadn’t replaced all of her organs with gears and cogs.

She was supposed to be grateful. She was supposed to count her blessings that she was so much as breathing after the car had rolled over five times, the same accident that left her mother paralyzed from the neck down and made her baby brother lose an arm. She was supposed to feel lucky that she would make a nearly full recovery except for some problems with fine motor control.

Piano was all placing fingertips to delicate keys, light touches or hard slams for different styles and genres and time periods, stretching wide for octaves or pinching them tight for smaller intervals, the quick dancing movements of jazz piano or the flowing runs of classical music, all turning precision technique into art. 

Straining her eyes, the girl’s eyes fell on the black hands of a nearby clock. Seven thirty at night. She was supposed to be practicing an accompanist piece for her friend’s senior recital in a month. She was supposed to be hammering away at jazz charts for her band’s performance next week. She was supposed to be memorizing one of Mozart’s piano concertos for her college auditions.

She was supposed to begin learning the song that made her heart sing and fill the world with light and wonder.

The doctor kept rattling off her recovery plan, reading off lists of medicines she needed to take and the exercises she was supposed to do once everything had healed.

The girl said nothing. Shock had dried her tears.

---

Her daily walks to class forced her to pass the music school. At the very least, the practice rooms inside had soundproof walls.

Shrugging her backpack higher up onto her shoulders, the young woman put her head down and picked up the pace as fast as her legs would allow. Vines and moss held the old bricks and yellowing windows together, trailing up towards the small belltower. A small garden sat under the windowsills, white flowers clinging to the last bit of summer’s warmth. It was a refuge for stressed arts students, lost English majors, and environmentalists needing a quiet place to light up and let their minds wander.

Four weeks, and she hadn’t stepped a single foot closer to the building than necessary.

The accident had forced her to pull all of her college applications, spending an unintentional gap year remembering how to sit up and wiggle her toes, bend over and crawl and take her first steps once again, brush her teeth and brush her hair, get dressed and use a knife and fork again. Each day had been an opportunity to give up hope entirely. Each day, she made the choice to try again. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was simply trying to spite the world.

Whatever it was, the first time she walked around the block alone nearly made her cry. 

It had been enough to send her applications in once again.

Not everything had returned. Shoe laces were hard to get right without a helping hand or a half hour of slow, painstaking work. After one too many balls were thrown in frustration, she switched to slip ons. Her handwriting was barely serviceable as chicken scratch, much less something that could be reliably used to take down notes for later. Thankfully, the professors didn’t mind being recorded that much. As for piano, well, there was nothing wrong with a career in education. Teaching the next generation was a noble pursuit, one that would end up doing good in the world.

Not that she had even tried going back, instead jumping at the chance to offload her piano paraphernalia to a neighbor. She shoved sheet music into every box she could find, tore her room apart until she was sure that not a single practice book remained, even offered her standup piano for far less money than it was worth. Trophies were stripped off the wall. Ribbons found a dark corner of the attic. In less than a week, all signs of the offending instrument were gone.

There would only be disappointment if she tried.

She had resolved to keep moving forward, even if something got left behind.

A window flew open, black shutters banging against the sides of the building and carrying the forlorn striking of a piano’s keys. The song tugged at the corners of her memory, winding around her like a siren’s call as images of a darkened stage came to life.

Eyes fixed to the ground, she plugged her ears and walked away.

---

“You know, I wish I had picked up an instrument as a kid.”

The woman looked up from her reading, raising an eyebrow at the other mother waiting in the dance hall. Colorful crayon drawings and messy coloring book pages covered up every inch of wallspace, turning every surface that wasn’t a mirror into a haphazard mess of color with patches of white paper strewn between. Little children bounded across the dance floor, feet moving somewhat in time with slow, steady beats of the man at a beat up piano.

She couldn’t help but tap her foot in time.

“Never learned?” the woman asked, eyes searching for her daughter amongst the sea of black leotards and bunned hair.

“Well, I played violin for maybe a year. Parents didn’t push it, and I thought it was dumb and boring, so I didn’t even bother trying” the mother said with a slight laugh, her gaze far off and filled with a longing sorrow. “But that doesn’t count. I don’t remember a thing. Can’t read music, couldn’t tell you what the strings mean or what one piece is from another. Now I’m just kicking myself because man, wouldn’t that be a cool skill to have.”

“You know, it’s never too late to learn.”

The mother laughed. “Says the teacher.”

She returned with a slight smirk, eyes flickering across the hall and trying to land anywhere else but the upright instrument. With each pass over, it was harder to tear her gaze away. “You know, I actually used to be pretty good at that when I was a kid,” she said, pointing a finger across the way. “Got a lot of awards for it, went to a couple of championships. Really could’ve gone somewhere big with it.”

“So why’d you give it up?” 

“Car crash.”

Words died on the mother’s lips, only nodding in simple understanding as the simple beats faded to a close and a cluster of children ran across the room to waiting parents. There was no spell that had been broken, no masterful revelation of the arts for either the adults or the children.

And yet, her foot continued tapping.

Noticing her daughter more engaged with a gaggle of friends, the woman rose from her seat and crossed the floor, each footstep following the rhythm that had been playing all throughout the class. As a solo instrument, a steady beat was the hardest thing for any piano player to learn. There was no one to follow, no one to lead, just the speed the player wanted to take and the instrument.

She could keep time. The hardest step was already done.

With trembling fingers, she placed her hands on the keys, remembering the feel of a familiar chord, one she still remembered despite just wanting to move on and forget. But how could she forget something so utterly real and raw. One breath in, one breath out, and she struck them down.

The piano was horribly out of tune.

But the sound still rang true. 

---

“Mom, come on, we’ve gotta go.”

“Let me just finish this up,” the woman said, fingers lightly dancing across the piano keys and filling the space with sound. The coffee shop was bathed in sunset’s glow, casting deep shadows on the faces of people buried in their readings and writings. Each table had a small vase of white flowers picked from the garden outside. Paintings from local artisans lined the walls, a motley assortment of picturesque landscapes, blurred street corners, and thought provoking portraits. 

She came every Saturday at two, setting out a small tip jar on the antique piano and playing a number of tunes she had practiced throughout the week. They were never perfect nor polished nor something that would be worth paying money at a fancy venue, but it was good enough for the sleep deprived patrons of a small cafe. The owners were understanding, the people were polite, and she always came away with something by the time night fell.

As it turned out, grading papers for ten years had been almost better physical therapy than what the doctors prescribed. The finesse and grace of her youth was long gone, but she remembered where to place her hands and how to read inbetween the black notes splashed across sheet music. Speed and technical ability would come with time. 

Time, patience, and a lot of practice books.

As her fingers danced to a gentle halt, the song faded into the evening until there was nothing left but the grinding of coffee beans and the occasional muffled cough. Some of the regulars looked up, giving polite claps and nods and finally checking the clock only to realize it was far later than anyone had thought to give attention. Others remained absorbed in their work, eyes focused on piles of papers or personal sketchbooks. 

But even their ears twitched.

The woman stood up, gathering the music back into her satchel and pulling the lid back over the keys. With a gentle smile on her face, she shoved a handful of dollar bills and coins into her pockets and wove through the small mess of coffee tables. Her daughter was waiting outside, arms crossed placidly over a leather jacket.

“That sounded good” she said, flashing a smile and stretching out her arms. “Really good. When’s your concert debut?”

She laughed. “Oh please, I’ve got a long way to go before that happens.”

The two started down the road home, a familiar and gentle tune being hummed along by both mother and daughter alike.

Her daughter knew it as a bedtime lullaby.

---

Low heels clicked on the wooden floor, piercing the nearly silent hall with every step. The audience was hidden behind a curtain of shadow, the occasional face of an old friend or one of the many students she taught over the years just barely illuminated by the stage lights. They stared at a simple white backdrop, at an old woman in her best dress and hair done up nice, at a grand piano set in the middle of the stage.

With every step, the woman saw a new face in the crowd. Her daughter, now grown and setting off on her own path in life, sitting proudly in the front row with a gaggle of grandchildren. Her old colleagues from the school, gathered together and whispering about the after party and if there would be enough cookies and lemonade for everyone. Her folk band, waiting in the wings for their turn to join her on the stage. Students from nearly every class she had ever taught, each presenting her with a new stack of music at the end of the year. The baristas from the coffee shop, collectively deciding that the cafe could afford to take a day off if their Saturday entertainment couldn’t be there. The women from her church group, each having begged for nearly ten years straight before she gave in and took a place in the Sunday band.

The faces went on for what seemed like miles.

Every seat had an expectant face. Watching.

Waiting for something to happen.

She took a seat at the piano, hands gracefully running over black wood almost shining under the lights. Her music was already in place: classical, jazz, folk tunes, renditions of popular songs, a couple of pieces she had crafted over the years.

And before them all, a piece she needed no paper for.

She raised her arms with grace and beauty.

Magic sprung forth.

---

The lights were white. Her dress was black. 

A woman sat at the piano, playing a song that she knew must be played in remembrance of the woman currently resting in the casket. The line of mourners moved with the slowness only the dead can command, winding its way through the pews and far out the door. Besides the ever present swaying and building music, there were only the sounds of choked tears and low confessions.

And still, the woman played on.

“What’s that song?” a boy asked, respectfully taking a seat on the bench. He was one of the grandchildren, old enough to remember the tune from the house but never old enough to learn its name.

“Moonlit Night,” the woman replied, never taking her eyes off the keys. “It’s a song of sorrow, of ages gone by that only exist in memory and will eventually fade away. Your grandmother loved it dearly.”

He nodded slowly, the light in his eyes wise beyond his years. His gaze flickered to the line of mourners, watching them with a curiosity and an understanding only a child could truly make manifest. “She was…really loved, wasn’t she?”

“Your grandmother touched the lives of a lot of people. She was a teacher, a mother, a grandmother, a good friend, a pillar of the community,” she said, the ghost of a smile appearing on her face. “What was she to you?”

The boy glanced over to the casket, heavily obscured with the bodies of the performers, then back to the grand piano before him. For the first time since the doors had opened and the family service had taken place, he seemed to be lost in thoughts that were no longer just sorrow. Minutes stretched between them, and still the song played on, sending out light and darkness, joy and sorrow, magic and the mundane out into the world

“She was a pianist.”

The woman smiled true.

The song began anew.

[gotatext]

          whats up ! its ur local feral goblin nora ( 23, she/her, gmt ) bringing u yet another baby i dug out of the trash and vomited onto the dashboard. a fake psychic slash rodeo bull sensation studying at hendrix but born in marfa, texas. luvs wearing gingham print dresses and cowboy boots n always in loads of rings and necklaces w flowers in her hair. very into art and pornography, and particularly the combination of the two. wants to do a PHD on gender studies and female autonomy in porn (yeehaw!). this is a pinterest board. without further ado, here’s frida !

hendrix template.

( cis-female ) haven’t seen FRIDA CALHOUN around in a while. the ELIZA SCANLEN lookalike has been known to be (+) SCHOLASTIC & (+) PLUCKY, but SHE can also be (-) DOGMATIC & (-) SINGLE-MINDED. The 18 year old is a FRESHMAN majoring in GENDER STUDIES & VISUAL ART. I believe they’re living in AUDAX, but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( nora. 22. cowboy time. she/her. ) 

 aesthetics.

a red gingham print dress from your childhood that tugs at the seams and hitches at your thighs. brown cowboy boots still thick with the dirt of a marfa desert. stripper heels decorated with hello kitty stickers. a crystal ball you bought for a dollar from a one-eyed woman at a thrift store. dead flowers clinging to the braids of your hair. a rucksack permanently packed for the move. a streak of red across your lips. roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens. smiling with a mouthful of blood. the female orgasm cut and pasted from pornhub and superimposed onto renaissance art. sweet wrappers scattered over the vinyl seats of an older man’s car. also this pic here is a big frida mood

connection to eva & did they choose her name during the watershed?

study abroad mentor. when frida moved to the netherlands to study, she was assigned a mentor to help her settle into campus life, since she was not of dutch heritage. eva was her mentor for her first few weeks of study, though they weren’t really friends. occasionally they hung out if they saw each other out at night, but they weren’t like... super close.

ok,.... so first up ! despite going to uni in amsterdam, this gal was born and raised in the ole’ U.S of A. she’s from marfa, texas. it’s a very arty place. she was surrounded by art wankers as a child and it kind of educated her to a lot of shit, but also meant she grew up p fast?? like she learned about sex and death and violence from all these art people who thot they were Freeing her Superego n makin a genius child bt rlly.... they shd hav just let her play with dirt rather than showin her artistic representations of the inside of a dead bird.

 BACKSTORY TIME.. her mother was from the wrong side of the tracks, wanted 2 go to art school and started working as an erotic dancer to pay for college but then jst.... ended up staying there. one of those girls u see in the documentaries who had Big Plans but ultimately never got to pursue them n jst got.... sucked in by the money

 frida was raised in dressing rooms surrounded by sparkly costumes and nipple pasties and leotards and the like. as a kid she’d try to trot about in her moms heels n yearned for the day she’d be able to be on stage. 

if you’ve seen pretty baby its a bit similar to tht..... her mom works in a brothel n has her quite young n the expectation is her daughter will probs end up working at the brothel too when she's old enough. no1 really expected frida to get into a good uni or anythin

frida was p much raised by the town, to be honest. most of her youth was spent scurrying about half naked in cowboy boots and glasses too big for her face. a smol feral child

as a kid used to lie about being able to see dead people bcos she thought it’d make her seem cool and interesting to other kids n it got the attention of the girls her mom worked with. but when her mom realised people were willing to actually believe a 7 year old had seen their dead scorned lover, she saw it as an opportunity to swindle some extra cash and registered her as a child psychic n started putting adds out in local papers for palm readings and tarot predictions. 

when her mom hit 30s she couldn't hack being a sex worker any more, so she set up her own fortune telling business and hired a load of the girls from the club to be fake psychics. it was sort of a fortune telling parlour slash brothel, bt they kept tht very under wraps. palm reading upstairs, handjobs downstairs. the reason why some of the women from the strip club agreed to work there was because it was a business actually run by a woman who got what was going on, n not jst someone trying to make quick cash out of old men wanking

as a child, frida was on a few tv shows in the netherlands  making psychic predictions in front of live tv audiences and attempting to reach out to the spirits of their loved ones. this con continued into her teenage years, she even did youtube videos n had minor success, though she was accused of being a cheap horoscope predicter and packed it in shortly after a twitter backlash. 

if pressed, frida still claims to have a gift, but that it's not as simple as switching a light on and off, it comes when it comes, you can't summon it, and that's how she gets out of being labelled a fraud if anyone who recognises her demands a reading.

ws street smart, but also did super well at school? quite charming as a kid and good at winning adults over because of a life growing up basically conning rich white women out of their money just by telling them stuff they wanted to hear. was moved up a grade in junior high and graduated early. attended a summer school, before choosing to study in amsterdam because of the appeal of the red light district. very interested in the lives of sex workers and the way they express themselves. is only a freshman but, is like, 50% through her degree already jst cos she’s..... super passionate about her subject getting recognised as a legitimate brand of academia

she wanted to study gender performativity in the lives of sex workers and plans to do her thesis on the porn industry. it might be because of her childhood, growing up surrounded by sex workers, but she's obsessed with it, looks at mathematical structures and symbols in porn through a lens of politics and art history. very interested in visual art.

some ?mildly amusing? facts

owns 4 tarot decks and a crystal ball she bought frm an old lady with one eye

favourite drink is cherry coke

part of a burlesque collective at hendrix university who run speakeasy nights. is trying to set up her own small-scale grassroots burlesque group in one of the more mainstream clubs along the strip bcos there’s so much money and female tourists go wild 4 it

sells nudes on twitter. whenever she gets low on cash she contacts one of the seedy old men who used to visit her mom's club to venmo her $500 in return for pictures

that girl who’s always harping on about body positivity on instagram while wearing cute underwear and looking absolutely bomb 

really good at rodeo bull riding. the club in marfa had one so as a youth she got really good at it bcos she was constantly tryin to outdo her friends on who could stay on for the longest. a video of her staying on one for like 4 minutes after downing several jager bombs went viral once.

smol baby. 5′4. wears a lot of cute summer dresses n big boots. gingham is her usual dress style, or like red plaid, n then she’ll either have big white cowboy boots with spokes on the back or the really long doc martens. also owns a lot of abba-esque gogo boots and 90s creepers. flats?? who are they. has her hair in braids a lot, and usually has flowers or feathers threaded through it to add to her whole “mystic” vibe

micro-doses acid for mild depression bcos she didn’t believe in “that CBT bullshit”, thought that therapists, like her, were jst con artists so always a bit spaced out

her flirting technique is absolutely offering to read your palm. she used to do it all the time at school its how she met most of her eighth grade boyfriends. 

volunteers at one of the local galleries but mostly just rants to old white dutch men about how cis white men have dominated art for years :/ is one of those SJW-types but only?? when it comes to art?? 

has a pet rat called popeye

takes photographs of dead animals to use in her art and often posts them side-by-side with stills of women in porn to show the shelf-life of female sex workers in a patriarchal-dominated industry or some bullshit idk

big into spoken word poetry, even if its shit. likes savage depictions of femininity

wrote a thesis on art as an act of masturbation that got published 

big into capitalism and commodity culture. loves it.

wanted plots, fucker

ppl who are also studying @ hendrix but speak english !! bcos frida finished her exams a year early at like 17 n just up and left to amsterdam cos she knew if she got in-state tuition she’d never leave texas, she came to the netherlands with like, 40 dollars and a phrase book. eva was kind of her study-abroad mentor to help her settle into amsterdam campus life

ppl she met at an inter-school maths championship competition or something really fuckin nerdy like that. she probably got entered in a spelling bee or two, she was her high school’s pride and joy until people started calling her a slut in toilet door grafiti 

hook-ups !! frida does not do relationships, she had several girlfriends as a kid but she enjoyed the thrill of the chase more than being with one person. pan, but not about befriending straight men. very much fuck-em-and-chuck-em wham-bam-thankyou-ma’am when it comes to guys. that said, if u think ur character cld get under her skin n try n change that by all means be my guest

other ppl who wld be in burlesque with her. also she goes to strip clubs n peep shows like every day, thats basically research for her, so if ur characters would be into strip clubs they might see her there

she volunteers at a few galleries, tht is also a possible place where they cld kno each other from

i feel like she’d be on student council if they had one of those. shes that kind of bitch, turning up like elle woods with a big feather pen or a light-up heart marker, slamming down some truths before upping and leaving to go for her 11am chai latte break

mayb someone she’s trying to coach into being more body confident through self-expression in burlesque.

som1 who attended the art institute in marfa for a summer n maybe knew her when she was a bit younger ??? idk

drama. angst/ horror. someone accuse her of being a fake psychic and she’ll predict your horrific untimely death

nice bike rides in amsterdam please

yea like this if u a) want to plot or b) think the self is as undefinable social construct and i will slide in ur dms to further discus ruckus  x x

[drakorn]

Musical Review - Matterhorn

I haven’t really made a post in ages here because I simply didn’t have that much to talk about. But this has changed now, for I finally got to see Matterhorn, the newest addition in the Michael Kunze musical world. It has currently wrapped its first season at the Theater St. Gallen and will return for the next one. I really wanted to see this piece for a long time but didn’t have the means to do so. Now, through an unexpected twist of fate, I had a chance to watch the performance. So, here’s my review and there might be a few spoilers in it!

I didn’t know much about the source material before this musical was announced. When I did look at the historical case of Edward Whymper and the ambitious England vs Italy race to the top of the mountain and the tragedy that ensued from that, I was a bit sceptical. Obviously, I was excited because Michael Kunze was involved but...was this story really enough material for a 2-act musical? After watching it, eeehhh...kind of. Let’s take a more detailed look.

The Story

The historical case provides quite a fitting basis for a dramatic musical: Edward Whymper, artist and mountain climber, wants to be the first person ever to climb the Matterhorn, one of the fiercest and highest mountains in the Alpine region. This becomes increasingly more difficult for him because: 1. He is broke and has to scrape by to get all the equipment, 2. He is looked down upon by his comrades in the Alpine Club, 3. One of his friends betrayed him for money and now leads a team of Italians to the mountain, ensuring the start of a race, 4. The mountain itself is extremely hard to climb and due to the Italians being involved, they have to take a route never used before. These are enough dramatic problems to push the protagonist forward. However, two of these problems are overcome pretty quickly and don’t really give us enough reason to root for Whymper. He is broke? Oh, that’s fine, that one guy will clear him of his debts if he paints something for him (something that happens off-stage). Oh, his comrades laugh at him? That’s fine because they just happen to embark on the same journey on the same day and everything is forgiven. To the musical’s defense: All of these are Act 1 obstacles. The real obstacle comes in Act 2, when four of Whymper’s comrades fall to their deaths and a criminal investigation is launched. But even that gets a bit sidelined. 

My biggest gripe with the story is that all of the potentially interesting obstacles get resolved too quickly. Even the criminal investigation, which leads the second half of Act 2 is overcome quite quickly. But also, it kinda had to because of the time limit a musical has.

I was actually surprised where Act 1 ended. In my opinion, there was a bit too much build-up to the actual climbing. All of Act 1 is them planning the expedition, Act 2 has the expedition at the very beginning and the rest is focussed on the criminal investigation and the trauma. My point is: The actual expedition was a bit too short in my opinion. I think it would have served the musical better if we had less build up in Act 1. This way, the tragedy itself could have been the Act 1 finale, a literal cliffhanger intriguing us about what happens next (Seriously, what a missed opportunity, they could have claimed to be a mountain climbing musical with a literal cliffhanger in the Act 1 finale!). Tanz der Vampire has a great Act 1 finale: They are already in the castle by the time the curtain falls, so we know that Act 2 is going to kick off in this interesting location already. 

There is romance in this musical, of course. Michael Kunze has done great musical romances before: Elisabeth and Death was a walking metaphor, Alfred and Sarah was a great deconstruction of the classic love story, and this piece features a clever trick as well. Olivia Buckingham is clearly interested in Edward. The musical effectively fools us in the beginning by making us believe that there will be just a casual love story, but it’s not because Edward Whymper’s true romance lies with the mountain itself. And these are the parts where the musical is at its best. Once again, Michael Kunze makes good use of one of his best tropes, which is to personify an aspect of humanity or nature in a character. We had Death in Elisabeth, Krolock in Tanz der Vampire and even Young Mozart in Mozart! fulfilling these roles. In Matterhorn, we have the character of Orka, the spirit of the mountain, a manifestation of Nature itself. Edward’s greed for success and Orka’s protective stance on nature make for a great contrasting chemistry. This is the true love story of the musical. Olivia Buckingham is the human love interest, someone who is grounded and preserves purely human values. Orka is untamed and dangerous, just like the mountain. It even got to the point where I found myself more interested in Edward and Orka’s relationship than the expedition itself.

The last thing I would like to talk about story-wise is the ending. I was actually a bit disappointed in it, purely due to the tone. In fact, this musical has a few moments where the tone suddenly switches. An example: In one scene we just witnessed the gruesome death of four people falling 1000 meters into a snowy abyss, which is followed by an emotional monologue by Nature itself. But then the tone switches just like that and we find ourselves in a hotel where the preparations for a jolly and upbeat celebration are being made. This kind of sudden switch happens in the ending as well. In fact, it seems like there are two endings there. There is an amazing scene in the end that really tugs at your heartstrings, the stage is almost entirely dark and the curtain begins to fall. I thought to myself “Wow, what an amazing ending, it really left me thinking.” But then the curtain rises again, the lights go on and a very upbeat song starts playing and THAT is the true ending. Why would you trick me like that, musical? The penultimate scene already was the perfect ending, we don’t need another one. It’s not a nice extra like the final song in Tanz der Vampire. Hmm...how can I visualise what I meant: Ah, right! Okay, so imagine this: You are watching Elisabeth and the final song, “Der Schleier fällt”, ends. You think to yourself: “Wow, THAT is a great ending.” And then suddenly, we get a reprise of “Kitsch” and that is the true ending. That’s pretty much how the ending of Matterhorn made me feel. The last scene was just not really necessary. If it would have ended in the scene before, the impact would have been much more powerful.

Overall, the story is good. It has some clever twists and turns regarding characters. It was just the structure I didn’t always agree with. But overall, I like it. You can definitely see that it was written by Michael Kunze.

The Music

But what would a good musical be without some kickass songs? This time, the songs were composed by Albert Hammond and, I think, this is his first time doing a musical.

I have to say, for a first time, the songs are amazing. I wish I could produce such a result as a first-timer. The opening number, “Matterhorn!” is a good opening for it sets the stage for all the goals and characters in a very efficient manner.

Orka’s two big solos, “Warum sind sie so blind?” and “Das Ganze ist mehr” are amazing. One is very energetic and mirrors the untamed nature of the mountain and Nature’s reflection on humanity. The other one is calm and even melancholic, perfectly reflecting the times when Nature claims human lives. 

My favourite song by far is “Weit oben”, Edward’s big triumphant song when he stands on top of the mountain. If I were to pick one song to represent the entire musical, this would be it. It has a catchy tune and some great atmosphere is accompanying it. I loved it.

Another very touching song is Edward’s “Unheilbar verliebt” and its reprise, where he reflects on his love for the mountain (and Orka in that regard) and his great ambitions. 

But other than that there weren’t really that many other songs that stuck with me. It’s not one of these musicals where every single song is good, but rarely any musical is. When the music is good, it is REALLY good.

Overall, the music is decent, even great at times. It just doesn’t have that special spark that would make me fall in love with it.

Set and Costumes

That is one of the musical’s strongest aspects. It looks absolutely gorgeous. I think this is the best-looking St. Gallen production I have ever seen. The costumes are all historically accurate and all of the characters look like they belong there.

The set design is amazing. When you are in London, you feel like you are in London, when you are on the top of the mountain, you feel that. Light and sound are incorporated beautifully. I don’t think I have seen any production where set and computer projections work so beautifully together. Even in Tanz der Vampire, I can easily tell those two apart. But in Matterhorn, you actually feel that everything is THERE. Even when you know that something is a projection, it feels present on stage. There is one scene where you only see stars and then the entire planet Earth is visible. It truly looks like you could just jump into space. When the mountain is shown in the distance, you feel like you could enter the stage and just walk all the way there.

Truly, I only now realise how technically advanced the Theater St. Gallen is. That was simply beautiful.

The Cast

Ok, this is St. Gallen. We know that no matter what musical, the cast is always going to be great. Again, in total St. Gallen fashion, they managed to get a lot of well-known faces on stage.

Edward Whymper - Oedo Kuipers. I have only seen him in Mozart! so far and liked him there. But I think, I like him more as Edward Whymper. His performance is convincing, full of energy and I could really see all of Edward’s passion, ambitions and arrogance. This was a great casting decision.

Orka - Sabrina Weckerlin. I saw her in Artus - Excalibur before and loved her there. She completely steals every scene she’s in. They could not have chosen anyone better to portray essentially Nature itself. When she needs to be calm, she is calm, when she needs to be ruthless and dangerous, she sells that completely. I think this is also the first time where I saw Sabrina properly dancing on stage. She’s got some moves, I must say. As with Morgana, it feels like the role was just written for her in this piece.

Olivia Buckingham - Lisa Antoni. I saw her in Rudolf and Artus and loved her performance in both. But I think she was quite heavily underused here. She had some good songs and stage presence but I wish they would have given her more to do with the role. She is just the love interest here. That is a shame because Lisa is a fantastic actress and has a phenomenal voice if you just give her enough to do. Great casting indeed but unfortunately too small of a role. 

Jean-Antoine Carrel - Benjamin Oeser. Again, great actor but severely underused. I would have loved to see the complicated relationship between Antoine and Edward evolve a little more. It starts off great but we don’t see much of it in Act 2, which is a shame because I would like to see more of this actor.

Luc Meynet - Luigi Schifano. WHAT. A. VOICE. Seriously, how did I not hear of this guy before? He is amazing! He is such a great actor and singer and perfectly embodies the hunchbacked outcast. He reminded me of Quasimodo in a few scenes. But again, great actor, very underused character. In fact, arguably the most important thing this character does happens off-stage and gets resolved with one line of dialogue. I would have loved to see the actual scene happening on stage. So much potential was wasted here. But Luigi made great use of every scene he was in. I would love to see more of him in the future.

There are many other great actors involved in this production, such as André Bauer and Jon Geoffrey Goldsworthy. But none of them really have enough scenes to make me fully appreciate them. I didn’t even know André Bauer was in this until the last line his character said. There were so many great actors and characters who, in my opinion, were criminally underused.

Overall, the casting is absolutely fantastic. But I would have loved to see more characters getting larger parts. I’m pretty sure it could have been done. Just one or two more scenes, pretty please?

Overall

Overall, I like this musical. It’s not groundbreakingly amazing, but it’s also not disappointing. It’s good. The cast is fantastic, Michael Kunze’s lyrics are fantastic, Shekhar Kapur’s directions are fantastic. The set design is mindblowing. The costumes and music are good but not overly amazing. But overall, yeah, I liked it. I have no trouble accepting it into the Michael Kunze musical collection, alongside pieces like Elisabeth and Tanz der Vampire.

Matterhorn returns on the 9th of September and closes on the 16th of February. I would really recommend you all to check it out if you can. Everyone will find some good enjoyment in it.

[burnouts3s3]

My Hero One’s Justice, a review

(Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit unprofessional blog post written by an unprofessional blog poster. All purported facts and statement are little more than the subjective, biased opinion of said blog poster. In other words, don’t take anything I say too seriously. Just the facts 'Cause you're in a Hurry! Publisher: Bandai Namco Developer: Byking Manufacturer’s Suggested Retail Price (MSRP): 59.99 USD How much I paid: 59.99 USD Rated: T for Language, Mild Blood, Mild Suggestive Themes, Violence How long I played: 6 Hours switching between various gameplay modes such as Story mode, Mission Mode and online mode. Microtransactions: The character of Endeavor being unlocked early for those who pre-ordered the game. Addtional missions for Deku and Endeavor priced at 1.99 USD Each. DRM: None but requires 3rd Party EULA to play. Dual Audio: No. Only the Japanese Audio with subtitles is available. Roster: 20 Characters in the base game. 3 additional characters as DLC. Stages: 11 What I played on: PC Controller Support: Yes. My Rock Candy Xbox 360 controller was compatible with the game. Performance Issues: The game ran smoothly for the most part but, by default, had options such as Anti-aliasing and V-Sync turned off for some reason. With a lack of options to tweek the graphics, I noticed multiple drops in framerate going from 60 to the mid 50’s and at worst, the mid 20’s and 30’s. One instance of the game momentarily freezing before resuming combat. Modes: Story mode, Mission Mode (an RPG like mode where in you level up certain characters and have to replenish health between fights), Arcade Mode (where in you pick a character and fight 6 AI opponents of increasing difficulty), Local Battle and Online Battle. My Personal Biases:  I’m… neutral on My Hero Academia. While I think it has a lot of potential, I’m not certain whether it’ll transcend the trappings of the Battle Shounen Genre or simply be content with having death battle after death battle. Hopefully it won’t crap the bed like Bleach did. My Verdict: Rather than a complete game, My Hero One’s Justice feels like a 60 dollar tech demo meant to squeeze money out of early adopters. With an already dumbed down fighting system, the lack of not only single player content and an anemic roster might put off even the most devoted fans. Get it on sale. My Hero One’s Justice, a review

My Hero Academia seems to be the latest darling from Shounen Jump and Viz Media. A hit sales smash, the franchise has already spawn its own anime adaptation, a movie that did pretty well and, at long last, its own video game adaptation. Just as well, the series also has been dubbed by Funimation, can be viewed on Crunchyroll and is running on Cartoon Network’s Toonami block. Looking to be another Naruto, can My Hero Academia succeed in its game, My Hero One’s Justice? Let’s find out! In My Hero One’s Justice, you play as various characters found in My Hero Academia. There, you can relive events from the manga and anime, such as the UA tournament as well as the climatic battles such as All Might’s battle against All For One. For those wondering, the game mostly covers the story from the UA tournament to All Might’s final battle with All For One. Byking, the developer, animated very few of the game’s cutscenes, instead using comic panels with still shots from the anime to show the story scenes. Even the localizer, Funimation, did not dub an English track for the game (while they have done so for other Funimation properties such as Dragonball FighterZ). All these signs point to a game that was rushed out to gage how much BnHA fans would pay. (All the more suspicious as the game, stateside, was released on the same day as Red Dead Redemption 2, guaranteeing lackluster sales. Between this game and Black Clover: Quartet Knights, one has to wonder if Bandai Namco of America is attempting to sabotage its anime adaptations). The lack of presentation is most evident in the game’s story mode. Never mind the fact that the Story Mode isn’t long enough to last the weekend, I’m astonished that a game this bare bones was priced at 60 USD. To stretch out Story mode, the game offers battles on the Heroes perspective, the villains perspective and finally, the UA tournament where the students battle one another. By playing the various modes, you can unlock customization items such as different costumes to put on the characters, banners to put on the game’s profiles and coins, an in-game currency to help you unlock other items in the store.  Certain items can only become available by fulfilling secret conditions in Story Mode, such as defeating an opponent with a Plus Ultra. Combat is arranged by having one character face off another and attempt to either lower the other’s health to zero or ring them out (for select stages). Characters have a basic attack button, a grab, a ranged attack, a power attack which allows them to continue fighting even after receiving damage and dash attacks. Dealing or receiving damage will fill up the stamina bar and allow characters to use a Plus Ultra, a cinematic special attack that deals extra damage.  You can variate between a Level 1 Plus Ultra, a more powerful Level 2 Plus Ultra or deal maximum damage with a Level 3 Plus Ultra. You have the ability to select ‘sidekicks’, support characters that will assist you in combat when summoned. Different sidekicks have different effects. For example, having Iida as a sidekick will having him call down and deal a throw while calling Uraraka as a side kick will have her touch the opponent and suspend them in mid-air. While the game’s controls are competent, they’re also very shallow offering very little variety amongst its playable characters. Even with certain characters having unique status effects (i.e. Todoroki can momentarily freeze his opponents with his attacks or burn them causing minor damage over time) there’s too little variety and too few characters. It’d be one thing if the game had a create-a-character mode or a deep combat system like in Soul Caliber VI. There’s just too little content here even for a ‘style over substance’ arena fighter like in the Naruto Ultimate Ninja Storm games. Add to that the inability to switch between your sidekicks and a limited roster, the game feels more like a tech demo than a full priced game. CAVEAT: Look, I’m not trying to beat a game down here. For something I paid 60 bucks for, I expected more. Even compared to the Naruto Ultimate Ninja Storm games, there’s not only items lacking in the visual department but also the gameplay department as well. With several characters excluded and other characters (such as an alternate mode of Deku and Endeavor for those who didn’t pre-order the game), locked behind a paywall, I can’t really recommend this game at full price. With good games such as Soul Caliber VI, I struggle with the rating because there’s decent content undercut by bad publisher tactics. With mediocre games like My Hero One’s Justice, I can have a clear conscience telling you to wait for a sale. Don’t worry; the inevitable sequel will be worth the money. Verdict: Deep Sale or Rental.

[justanothercinemaniac]

Epic Movie (Re)Watch #128 - The Wizard of Oz (1939)

Spoilers below.

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: No.

Format: Blu-ray

1) This film is a classic of American cinema. If you ever want to learn how to tell a slick story, watch this film. Because outside of one or two musical numbers, there is nothing in here that doesn’t need to be. It is all entertaining and slick.

2) Judy Garland’s iconic performance as Dorothy Gale.

In the original tale Dorothy was a pre-adolescent eight year old, where as Garland was 16 upon playing Dorothy. They had to have her in a tight corset to keep her boobs under wraps. Now that I’ve said that fun anecdote...

Garland is pretty great as Dorothy. She is able to perfectly capture her childlike wonder, heart, and innocence in a way which makes the audience feel like a kid. It brings us into this world of youth and fairytales through a compelling and fun character. Dorothy comes off as compassionate and loyal, and while a bit of a damsel towards the end we understand that she is just a child who is thrust into this world and desperately is trying to get back home. Garland is perfect in the role and the film needs her to be as iconic as it is.

3) The decision to have various characters and lines (“Well your head ain’t made of straw you know!”) be echoed in Oz gives the film a sense of magical realism (a literary genre or style associated especially with Latin America that incorporates fantastic or mythical elements into otherwise realistic fiction). I would not go far enough to call the film an example of that genre, but it definitely has some of those elements.

4) “Over the Rainbow”

Without a doubt THE most iconic song in the film. In my opinion there are two songs from cinema which perfectly capture a child’s imagination: “Pure Imagination” from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory and “Over the Rainbow” from this film. The song was almost cut from the film, with studio heads fearing it would bore kids! Can you even imagine? The film’s light melody and childlike innocence is what truly carries it. It connects with anyone who has ever longed for someplace better, for a far off land filled with adventure and intrigue. Garland’s vocals do the beautiful composition amazing justice, making the two inseparable. Honestly, it’s THE moment from the film and the movie hasn’t even gone to color yet!

5) The relationship with Dorothy and Toto is wonderfully strong. I wonder if there’s a backstory to that. Like maybe Toto was a gift to her from her late parents or something like that. Either way, any dog lover will appreciate it.

6) The fact that Professor Marvel (played by Frank Morgan, who later plays the titular Wizard) is a total phony doesn’t have so much weight the first time you watch this film. It does however become wildly important after the film’s end. Also the fact that Dorothy is so quick to believe speaks wildly to her youthful innocence.

7) It took me a while to realize why Dorothy is so desperate to return home when she has a whole song about wanting to be elsewhere, and only recently did I realize why. She thinks her Auntie Em is sick! Professor Marvel told her that her running away made her sick and heartbroken, and it is this belief and love for her family which drives her through the rest of the film.

8) Dorothy looking out the window in the middle of the twister has some wonderful sight gags.

9) The transition from a sepia tone world to a color one is remarkably seamless. Credit to the director, cinematographer, and editor(s?) who worked on this film for that. Bravo.

10) One of the reasons the film is such a classic is largely because of its wonderful imagery. All of Oz is wonderful fantasy, using the brightness of technicolor to its full advantage and creating a storybook world that appeals to the eyes of children and adults everywhere. The entire color palette is like that of a rainbow, something very fitting considering the main song of this film.

11)

Glinda [upon meeting Dorothy]: “Are you a good which, or a bad witch?”

Oh, if only it were that simple.

12)

Glinda [after she hears Dorothy’s opinion that all witches are ugly]: “Only bad witches are ugly.”

Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, dude.

13) While watching this film I kinda thought Glinda was being a little TOO chipper, and that the ready celebration of death was a bit odd. Then I remembered a fan theory which painted the supposed Good Witch of the North as the villain. Read at your own risk of childhood ruining.

14) I don’t love this film as much as others, although I do admit its pretty damn great. So it’s at risk of offending the purists out there that I say I think the whole Munchkinland song goes on a little too long. Also some of the Munchkins - probably because of their costumes - freak me out. Mainly the Lollipop Guild.

15) THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST!!!!

She’s so freaking evil, I love it! The Wicked Witch of the West is one of the most iconic film villains of all time, possibly even more iconic than some legends as Darth Vader. Margaret Hamilton plays the Witch with DELIGHTFUL villainy! You can tell she’s having a lot of fun in the part and we as the audience are having fun because of it. The Witch is simultaneously both in line with the stories we hear as children while at times being truly threatening. Even as an adult there are times I go, “holy cow, this woman is EVIL!!!!!!” That is amazing to me. Hamilton was a fan of the books and was delighted to hear she was being considered for a part, and that enthusiasm just infects ever green skin cell of this baddie. Some stories are only as good as their villain, and The Wizard of Oz has an INCREDIBLE villain.

16) The Ruby Slippers.

In the original story the slippers were silver, but the filmmakers changed it to ruby in order to take full advantage of the technicolor process. These days the ruby slippers are such an iconic piece of film that there’s a pair in the Smithsonian institute. Just like everything else in Oz, it captures our imaginations totally and completely.

17) Follow the Yellow Brick Road.

Okay, but what happens if you follow the Red Brick Road? Am I the only one curious about that? Where does the Red Brick Road lead? Wonderland? Neverland? Cleveland? CAN WE GET A SPINOFF ANSWERING THIS QUESTION PLEASE!?!?!?

18) The Scarecrow.

(Let’s all take a moment to realize how relevant and awesome that line is in 2017.)

Out of the trio, the Scarecrow may well be my favorite. He is just so sweet and kind, despite of (or because of?) his naivety. Some fun slapstick comes about from his character, and...I don’t know what else. For some undefinable reason he’s just my favorite of the bunch!

19) This film does have some nice humor.

Dorothy [after interpreting the rusted Tin Man’s words]: “He said oil can.”

Scarecrow: “Oil can what?”

20) According to IMDb:

Ray Bolger was originally cast as the Tin Man. However, he insisted that he would rather play the Scarecrow--his childhood idol Fred Stone had originated that role on stage in 1902. Buddy Ebsen had been cast as the Scarecrow, and now switched roles with Bolger. Unbeknownst to him, however, the make-up for the Tin Man contained aluminum dust, which ended up coating Ebsen's lungs. He also had an allergic reaction to it. One day he was physically unable to breathe and had to be rushed to hospital. The part was immediately recast and MGM gave no public reason why Ebsen was being replaced. The actor considered this the biggest humiliation he ever endured and a personal affront. When Jack Haley took over the part of the Tin Man, he wasn't told why Ebsen had dropped out (and in the meantime, the Tin Man make-up was changed from aluminum dust to aluminum paste as one of its key components). However, his vocals remain whenever the song "We're off to see the Wizard" is played. Jack Haley's vocals were never used during the song, but were used for "If I Only Had a Heart" and "If I Only Had the Nerve." Ebsen's vocals are also heard in the extended version of "If I were King of the Forest," though the spoken segment has Jack Haley. Although no Ebsen footage from the film has ever been released, surviving still photos show him taking part in the Wicked Witch's castle sequence.

21) The various reprises of “If I Only Had _____” (A Brain/A Heart/The Nerve) are some of my favorite songs in the film. Not only is the tune itself sweet and memorable, but they each serve as slick simple introductions to each character’s core conflict.

22) Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! I don’t have anything to say about that line I just wanted to include it in my recap post.

23) Although the Scarecrow is probably my favorite of the trio, the Cowardly Lion is the funniest I think.

The idea of his cowardice allows for a great amount of physical humor and humor in his dialogue. He’s the comic relief in an already very funny and sweet cast.

24) Apparently the actors playing the trio of characters would often show boat and try to steal the scenes from one another, to the point where the director (or whichever director was working that day, as this film had a lot) had to shout at them to let Judy Garland be the star because it was her story.

25) Man, these guys get to the poppy field WAY sooner than I remember!

I also didn’t remember that it got resolved by “Deus Ex Glinda” just casting a magical spell to kill all the poppies with snow. Which is weird considering it should be one of the most memorable scenes in the film.

26) Frank Morgan - the actor who played The Wizard and Professor Marvel - also plays the sentry in Emerald City, the coach driver in the city, and a third guard in the city. Now that we know of The Wizard’s tricky ways, I wonder if all three of these are not meant to be the same character.

27) There are parts in the Emerald City sequence I find a little on the lengthy side, a little superfluous. The songs where all of Dorothy’s squad is getting treated well is fine, it’s short enough. But I totally forget about the entire “King of the Forrest” number any time I watch the film and honestly don’t think the film needs it. But that’s just me.

28) I think part of the Witch’s truly threatening nature is through the strong visuals this film uses. “Surrender Dorothy” is a particularly memorable sight, as black ash fills the sky of an otherwise happy place.

29) I will say though, even though I find the whole “King of the Forrest” song a bit pointless, it does have this nice bit:

Lion: What makes a king out of a slave? Courage! What makes the flag on the mast to wave? Courage! What makes the elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist, or the dusky dusk? What makes the muskrat guard his musk? Courage! What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder? Courage!

30) Probably the time the Lion is at his funniest is when the group is approaching The Wizard.

Also The Wizard is kind of a jerk.

31) Dude, there’s a door just a few feet away. You DON’T need to go through the window!

32) Where the heck did the Scarecrow get a gun? Where’d the Tin Man get a giant wrench?

This movie is weird. I love that.

33) The Flying Monkeys!

Another example of incredible imaginative imagery.

34) Okay so...why does the Witch want the slippers? I mean we have theories in all OTHER forms of Wizard of Oz media. They belonged to her sister, they have the power to jump worlds, she wants a little color in her wardrobe, but the film itself never gives a reason. She just WANTS them.

35) I always really appreciated the devotion the three friends had when going to rescue Dorothy. I don’t know, it just sort of moves me the friendship they were able to craft in such a short time.

36) So this scene with the guards singing:

I did a production of Our Town YEARS ago and there was this girl in the cast who said she grew up thinking these guys were chanting, “Oreo! O-RE-o!” Which, you know, makes sense. That was funny enough on it’s own. Then Wreck-It Ralph came out...

37) For some reason “Night on Bald Mountain” plays as Scarecrow, Lion, and Tin Man go to rescue Dorothy from the which. Because why not, I guess.

38) The fact that water melts the witch - while iconic - sort of comes from nowhere. Was there something earlier in the film that was supposed to foreshadow this? It’s very Deus Ex Machina.

39) The Wizard revealed!

A for effort dude.

40) The scene where The Wizard is handing out the gifts for everyone (a diploma for Scarecrow which works as a brain, the “heart” for Tin Man, a medal for lion) is very funny. Frank Morgan benefits from his fast talking yet sincere nature.

Scarecrow [after receiving his gift]: “How can I ever thank you enough?”

The Wizard: “Well, you can’t.”

And then I love this too.

Dorothy [after The Wizard talks about getting here in a runaway hot air balloon]: “Weren’t you frightened?”

The Wizard: “Frightened? Child, you're talking to a man who's laughed in the face of death, sneered at doom, and chuckled at catastrophe... I was petrified.”

41) I either don’t understand the lesson here or I do and I dislike it. Dorothy has this line of how if she ever wants something again, she’ll just look in her backyard because “there’s no place like home.” While I appreciate the sentiment of, “There’s no place like home,” the idea of home is not defined by the place you grow up in. It’s the place where you feel the most safe, the most comfortable, the place you miss when you’re not there. It’s usually defined by people, not location. Good people who treat you well. So while Dorothy does have that back in Kansas, the line about her backyard throws me.

The Wizard of Oz is a classic and for good reason. It’s colorful and vibrant imagery will stick with children of all ages, and through all its parts combined it just captures the imagination of childhood perfectly. It’s mostly pure, innocent, but not in a naive or babyish way. It’s an entertaining treat everyone should see at least once.