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hidekikitsune · 5 years ago

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Coffekinoid | Nell & Hideki

tw: blood, brief mention of self-harm

Location: Coffee Plus

Characters: Nell (@https://nelllraiser.tumblr.com/) & Hideki (@https://hidekikitsune.tumblr.com/)

Summary: What was meant to be a brief battle of the wits morphed into a karkinoid cook-off, the likes of which Coffee Plus shall never witness again. ft. an interesting jacket, an overpriced cardigan, soft boi Hideki, and spicy girl Nell. Oh, and glass. Lots of glass.

It had been a moment since Penelope has come to a Coffee Plus since it was fairly close to campus, and she didn’t really have a reason to be near the campus in the first place. But sometimes she just really wanted the chocolate muffins they had here in particular, even if their desserts weren’t as popular as their beverages. Nevertheless, she was hunkered down over her muffin and mocha, all too eager to dig in when she saw a familiar face pop into the shop. Damn it, she really should have left her Amphisbaena jacket at home today, especially after it had struck Hideki’s interest the last time he saw it. But with all these karkinoids roaming around and...raining fish- she’d figured it was best to be protected.

The cold had never bothered Hideki much. What did bother him was the slush that just loved appearing to ruin his favorite shoes after the snow melted a little. He knew he should have just worn his snow boots to work today. He sighed as he tugged the door open to Coffee Plus a little stronger than he needed to. The baristas took one look at him and immediately started making his usual drink - proof that he came far too often. He went through the motions of paying for his drink and making small talk, but didn’t bother to address the feeling that someone was watching him until his americano was solidly in-hand. When he realized it was Penelope staring at him, though, he suddenly felt a surge of energy that could only come from the need to antagonize the poor soul in front of him. “Afternoon, Penelope.” He said her name with an unnecessary amount of entertainment as he slid into the seat across from her without permission. He raised a meticulously groomed eyebrow at the spread in front of her. “I never imagined you’d be one for sweets.” Hideki reached across and plucked the muffin from in front of her, though he took care to keep his fingers on the muffin liner so as not to dirty his fingers with the sweet. “Tell me… how does a girl like you get a jacket like that?”

Nell nearly groaned as Hideki slid into the chair across from her, her eyes narrowing in his direction. Though...it was mostly all in good fun. After all, it was amusing to try and ruffle his feathers in return whenever he decided to make his attempts to prey on her. “Old man, Hideki,” she commented back in as neutral a tone as possible, as if greeting an age old, but respected adversary. “Why not?” she asked, figuring there was no other choice but to take that bait if it was indeed bait. But the moment he took her muffin her eyes bugged out. Normally- she managed to pretend like she wasn’t as bothered by him, but this was crossing a line. Messing with Penelope was one thing, but messing with her food? Unacceptable. “Get your own muffin. That’s a great way to lose a finger,” she said gruffly as she reached across the table to make her attempt to snatch her muffin back. “A girl like me?” she replied indignantly. “What’s that supposed to mean? How’s an old man like you get out of bed every morning to terrorize the youth of this coffee shop? Don’t your bones creak? Nearly break when you force their tired selves out into the world?”

The girl’s ceaseless teasing had always been a bit of a treat for Hideki. He looked to be in his early thirties at the latest, but only he knew he had lived long enough for the average human lifespan already. He chuckled and let her snatch the muffin from his clutch. He rubbed the pads of his fingers with his thumb, trying to remove any remaining crumbs before crossing his arms and resting them on the table, leaning into her onslaught of questions with a perfectly amicable smile. “With such a fiery personality, I always assumed you wouldn’t have much of a sweet tooth,” he admitted with a slight shrug. “But you are absolutely correct, Penelope. My bones nearly break with every step I take in this harsh, cold world. The only warmth and joy I can ever find in my boring old man life is to steal nourishment from youths such as yourselves in this very coffee shop. It’s your own fault, really. You should have known better than to come to my hunting grounds.”

Obviously Nell knew Hideki couldn’t be much older than Bea at most, but still— it was amusing to make fun of the way he acted like he was an old man in a younger one’s body, saying the strangest things and proving himself time and time again to only have more traits she’d expect of someone much older. But as she regained her muffin she hummed pleasantly, easily placated by the re-acquirement of the little pastry. But her lips pursed in the slightest at the mention of fiery. It seemed her personality was the only part of her family’s legacy she’d inherited. Though she’d made a name for herself without the connecting link to their fire elemental tendencies, it still wasn’t exactly fun to be the odd one out. “Yeah well- human beings are very complex creatures, Hideki,” she said with the element of a tease back in her tone. Despite her attempts to always seem unamused by him, her lips still tilted up at the corners in a small grin. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you. Maybe you should just spare us all, and stop hunting for the sake of your rapidly decaying body.” But she snickered at the mention of hunting grounds. “Not a very good hunter when you return the food.”

Hideki snorted and leaned back in the seat of the booth, finally letting himself take the first sip of his americano. It had been far too long since he’d last had an adequate amount of caffeine coursing through his veins so it took a shameful amount of self-restraint to keep himself from downing the entire thing in front of… present company. “You have no idea how complex…” he muttered around the rim of his cup, eyes glittering with entertainment. He would always wonder at how rash young humans could be despite how delicate they were. Although, he still questioned what the woman sitting in front of him was. His eyes shamelessly scanned the details of her jacket, his recent obsession. “Well, that’s quite a good proposition to make. Perhaps, since you like bantering so much, you might be inclined to study political science at the local college. Our debate team is quite good from what I hear. I’m sure you’d have a great deal of fun as a lawyer.”

A little frown crossed over Nell’s lips, never sure what Hideki meant when he said such cryptid things. Maybe he was just being weird. Who knew? Nevertheless, she fixed him with a disapproving look as she noticed him focus in on her jacket, and she subconsciously gripped the edges of it, pulling it closer to her body in a somewhat defensive maneuver. How could he know what it was made of? He’d have to be supernatural himself. Or perhaps a Scribe? A Scribe seemed more likely, and much more Hideki’s speed. “Mmm you know it’s funny you mention that. I have considered applying recently.” She dangled the carrot for a moment, wondering if he would bite. “Would you like to know why?”

Hideki couldn’t help but lean forward on his elbows a bit, eager to hear whatever tale the young lady had decided to weave up for him this time. “Oh, please do enlighten me.” He had to resist being sarcastic, just in case she was genuine, even for a single second. That second’s pause was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass. Hideki cursed in Japanese under his breath and dove under the booth table to shield himself. He tugged not-so-gently on Nell’s arm to try and drag her under the makeshift barrier with him. “What in God’s name…?” he hissed, eyes going wide as the tiled restaurant floor echoed with the sound of strange clicks that could be heard around the other patrons’ panicked whispers.

For a moment, Nell felt the smallest bit guilty about possibly teasing Hideki. It really did seem that he was at least partially genuinely excited at the prospect of her going to college. And she didn’t need to disappoint more people in her life. So she hesitated, that pause made longer by the sudden outburst of the broken windows, and a clicking sound she thought was vaguely familiar, but couldn’t quite place. “Hey!” she exclaimed as Hideki tugged her downwards, hiding certainly never being her first instinct when it came to danger. Though...she supposed it was nice of Hideki to think of her. Still, she wasted no time in straightening herself to sneak a peek over the top of the table, a rather passionate curse of, “Fuck, god dammit,” falling from her lips as she recognized the karkinoids. “It’s the kar- the giant lobsters.” Fiddling with her clothes, she pulled out a dagger from who knew where, readying herself to fight. “Uh- just- stay here,” she told Hideki, not wanting him to get hurt.

Hideki felt his hands starting to shake despite his best attempts to keep calm. He was not ready for this. The thought that there were other people - that Nell was there - was a good reminder that he needed to figure out how to handle the situation. At least, that was what he had been telling himself until he realized that Nell had pulled out a dagger. “Woah!” He grabbed her shoulder to stop her, only just then realizing she had almost said the word ‘karkinoid’. “What the hell are you doing?” He hissed, cautiously leaning his head around the booth. “There’s… at least six of those…” He paused, scanning her expression and only found reassurance that she knew exactly what she was doing, so he resigned himself to slipping out of his guise. “There’s six karkinoids. Whatever experience you may have, you’ll need some back up.”

Nell frowned at being pulled back by Hideki, though she should be very used to people holding her back when she was constantly attempting to dive head first into situations. “I’m gonna kick their ass!” she said restlessly, annoyance coloring her words that she was having to wait to make sure these little shits didn’t hurt anyone in the shop. But then he uttered the word karkinoid, the very one she’d done her best not to say, and she the small suspicions she’d had were at least somewhat confirmed. Unless...Hideki was simply very into the mythology he was responsible for teaching. But he didn’t seem unfazed that apparent mythology could come to life. Her pride made her say, “You don’t know how capable I am or not.” But now wasn’t the time for pride. “The longer I wait, the more likely people are going to get hurt! So unless you have a bazooka hiding under that cardigan-” She let her words cut off, her impatient look cutting into him.

The kitsune sighed as she argued with him. Though, she was right; he had no idea what she was. For all he knew, she was a 600 year-old-vampire who just liked acting like an absolute child at the most inopportune moments… He doubted it. Hideki grumbled under his breath as he pulled off the aforementioned cardigan to protect it; it was $300 dollars. And really soft. “Alright, kid. Let’s see what you can do.” He tossed a smile her way and slid out from beneath the table, just in time to see a karkinoid descending on one of the baristas who’d been brave enough to try to fight them off with a broom. With a flick of his wrist, a carefully aimed burst of fire engulfed the creature. Thank God the windows were broken, though. The stench...

Nell’s impatience turned momentarily to confusion as she watched him take the cardigan off. What the fuck was he doing? But her confusion quickly turned to intrigue as he seemingly put out a challenge. He was...encouraging her now? The surprise one her face only grew as she watched him throw himself into the battle, and fire sprouted from his hand in a similar fashion to the methods her family of fire elementals had used all their lives. But...she didn’t feel any magic in the air as he did it. Nevertheless, she let out a delighted bark of a laugh as he torched the karkinoid, her hands flying straight into the air in triumphant fists. “Haha! Yes, old man! Yes!!” And then she wasted no more time in launching herself into the fray, grabbing the brave barista by the arm, tossing her towards the door, and telling her to “Get the hell out of here!” And then relaying it to anyone else who was in the shop by yelling it over the mess of a shop. In another moment, she was jumping onto the counter, overlooking the field as the karkinoids went in search of whatever food they were trying to find. Picking the first overgrown lobster she saw, she dove from the top of the counter onto it’s back, quickly pinning it’s fatal claws to the floor as she grabbed one of it’s legs nearest it’s middle and yanked it off. “Hideki, I got us dinner!” she yelled after tossing the leg aside. Then she promptly drove her knife into the weak spot she’d created, and the thing’s struggles began to wan.

Hideki rolled his eyes at her encouragement, but was unable to deny the genuine smile that was creeping onto his face. It had been a long time since he’d felt so excited. Hideki was quick to spring to action though as patrons began flooding out of their hiding spaces to run. “Go through the backdoor! Quick!” He shouted, holding open the kitchen door as he ushered everyone to safety. When he turned around to see Nell practically tackle a Karkinoid, it was all he could do to keep from laughing. “Dinner, you say?” He caught the leg and set it ablaze. “Seems as though we’ll be having fire roasted lobster tonight.” He chuckled, but only then realized his mistake in getting distracted. A Karkinoid was coming to the aid of its friend and was dangerously close to Nell. Fearing he might burn her if he were to use his fire, he quickly unbuttoned his pants and shifted. With a vicious snarl, the kitsune tackled the bottom feeder, fangs ripping deep into its exoskeleton.

Another bright laugh fell from her as he ‘prepared’ their dinner, and she finished off her first karkinoid, driving the knife into the weak bit of flesh she’d created again and again. “I’ll have to pick up some butter on the way home.” The hair on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end, battle instinct kicking in as she whipped her head around and saw another karkinoid coming her way. Magic gathered at her fingertips as she got ready to blast it into oblivion, but instead out of the corner of her eye she saw Hideki...taking off his pants? What the fuck. But it all became clear as he shifted, and she barely even blinked as he took out the karkinoid. “Are you shitting me?! A fucking kitsune?!” It was a mix of shock and excitement. She’d met a few of them when she’d been travelling in Japan during her five-year-long attempt to see the world and all it had to hold. “You’ve been holding out on me, jerk!” Then she joked once more in the midst of battle. “Also rude of you to take the one I wanted.” Speaking of ones she wanted it seemed that the rest of the karkinoids were quickly pegging Nell and Hideki as the threats to be most worried about at the moment, and were gathering their forces as the advanced on the pair. In a flash, she’d run her knife down the side of her arm, letting that glorious river of red blood run free as she felt its power flow through her veins, and she dropped it onto a bit of glass on the floor. In another moment, the glass that had shattered in perfectly sharpened bits began to hover in place. Normally, they wouldn’t be enough to make a karkinoid flinch, but if she summoned them to her all in conjunction, and with a lot of muscle behind them. Well...they’d see whether it worked or not. The only problem was at the center of this circle was Nell and Hideki. “When I say jump- jump. After three.” Then she began the countdown. “1...2…3...Jump!” The glass shot inwards as her feet left the ground, doing its best to imaple anything that was in its path.

Hideki only rolled his eyes as the woman cursed at him. Well, at the very least she seemed to know her stuff. At this point he’d believe she was a hunter with the way that she handled that dagger… which was a terrifying thought he didn’t dare to think that much harder on; the massive lobster in his mouth did not want to die. He was forced to let go of the creature as a massive claw clamped down where he had been standing on it just a second ago. Instead, he took a few paces back as the side of it that was the furthest from Nell burst into flames. Just in time for him to see her rip into her own arm. He let out at alarmed yip and ran towards her. Had the girl lost her mind? Things were dire, but not that dire! He was about to try and pull the dagger from her when he realized the glass was floating. Magic? Well… he had asked to see what she could do. Still, his ears pressed nervously to the back of his head as he circled anxiously, waiting on her count. On her command, he leaped, delicately tucking his tail to avoid any injury as the glass rushed forward. All he knew was that he did not want to be those karkinoids at the moment.

Generally, Nell wouldn’t have resorted to magic if she could help it when in public, and in front of a man she didn’t know all that well— but he’d shown his so it didn’t seem all that bad to show her’s. Besides, she knew he wasn’t a witch hunter...right? She’d never heard of a shifter being a witch-hunter. Well- it was too late now. This was much faster than dispatching them individually, anyway. She jumped on her own command along with Hideki, and the glass pieces impaled anything in their path, driving deep into the karkinoids. Her feet touched ground once more as the pieces of glass came to settle, the ones that hadn’t come into contact with anything crunching under her shoes. The karkinoids had been considerably slowed, some of them dead in their tracks, though a couple still managed to crawl towards her and Hideki. “One last one for you, and one for me?” she asked, a blood-thirsty grin on her face as she looked at the carnage of the overgrown lobsters they’d wrought, and delicious adrenaline pumped through her veins.

Hideki landed delicately on his feet, doing his best to ignore the small shards of glass piercing his paws. The small pads on his feet had grown rough from long summer adventures in the mountains where he’d grown up in, but glass was a new sensation that he didn’t ever want to experience again. Still, there were karkinoids to be grilled. He let out a tiny huff in response to her proposition. He took a step forward as though to launch himself at the remaining karkinoid he’d chosen, but let out a small whine as more glass stood in his way. He growled in indignation and set the whole damn creature on fire - perhaps a bit hotter than he’d intended. Still, the sound of sizzling karkinoid was confirmation enough that his part of the job was accomplished.

It took a moment for Nell to realize what was desparinging Hideki, but a little flash of guilt ran through her as she realized the problem. His paws. Sure, she had shoes to protect her feet, but he was working with just the skin of his feet. But it had occurred to her too late, and he was already dispatching his karkinoid, glass be damned. Meanwhile, she approached her own opponent. It had a couple shards of glass sticking out of its shell, but still seemed determined to fight until its last breath. Or at least...get to whatever food it had come here for to begin with. It was easy enough to dispatch the thing, and she did so by magicking one of the heavy looking trash cans over to it, before unceremoniously dropping it on top of the overgrown lobster with a loud crunch. “Well...I guess we can’t eat that one.” Finally- there was silence in the shop, and she remembered Hideki’s dilemma. “Are your um- feet alright? Sorry.”

Hideki jumped a little as the sound of the trash can landing on the karkinoid echoed around the once packed coffee shop. He sighed as he picked his way through the glass and back towards his discarded pants. He dragged them behind the counter, where he could shift without ‘injuring her delicate nature’. He slid his pants on with a quiet grunt, ignoring his bare chest for the time being as he pulled himself onto the coffee counter to examine his feet. “It’s alright. Considering how dangerous karkinoids can be, a little glass means nothing.” He tried to give her a reassuring smile but was keenly aware of the blood dripping from his hands and feet. “Do you ah… Would you please get me some paper towels? And a first aid kit? They must have one here somewhere.”

Nell was going to tell him to stay put, and to just let her clear the glass before he went wading through it, but it seemed she was too late as he disappeared behind the counter, and for a moment there was confusion on her face. Was he....hiding? But his emergence along with the pants made it easy enough to put two and two together. Still- perhaps it would have been better if she hadn’t been staring when he came out from where he’d gone. She might call him old man but...lack of shirt considered— Hideki was decidedly...not old. In a moment she looked away, a bit embarrassed simply because she felt intrusive when he obviously hadn’t meant to end up shirtless in a coffee shop. But her frown came back once more when he answered her, and she didn’t hesitate to step closer, holding out an open and upturned palm that was demanding his hand. “Let me see. I’m not the best healer, but I can get by usually. At least make it stop bleeding and keep you from dying of infection.”

The Kitsune blinked at her outstretched hand. He supposed after what they’d just been through, a little truce was more than due. He placed his hand in hers, allowing her to examine at will with a soft smile on his face. “That is… a relief. Most of my family were healers. It had become a bit of a tradition, so everyone was rather surprised when I was useless when it came to injuries. The fire comes in handy though.” He chuckled a little and nodded towards the burnt husks of the karkinoids. He was silent a moment as he deliberated. “Penelope… What was that back there?”

Nell knew that this was a bit...out of the ordinary for them, and it was rather strange to think that not fifteen minutes ago she’d just thought of Hideki as some stuffy, college professor who lived to shame her about college and steal her muffins. But her brow furrowed as she worked, not in the nature of letting people suffer around her unless they deserved it as her small hands traced the air above his injuries. It was true what she’d said about healing, and her work was slow as she did her best to patch up his hands. Though at the same time...blood injuries had always behaved well for her, it being easier for her to will the red droplets to cease, and bring those platelets together to scab over. The part that consisted of turning those scabs into new flesh was where she often ran into trouble. She couldn’t help but pick up on his phrasing, and asked before she could think not to. “Were healers?” Nevertheless, the corner of her mouth turned upwards, certainly being able to relate to not holding up family traditions. “My family’s just the opposite. A bunch of fire elementals and I can’t even make a puff of smoke.” She looked up from her paused work when she heard her name, even if she was still a little thrown that he tended to use her full one. “What was...what? The karkinoids? You said their name?” He’d known what they were, hadn’t he?

Well, Hideki had always admired Nell for her quick wit, though this was one of the few times he wished she hadn’t caught on so easily to his slipping up. He continued to stare at her hands as she worked - it was a good distraction from the memories and emotions bubbling up. “Were healers,” was his simple response. He hoped that was enough to satisfy her and, thankfully, her slight joke was quick to bring his smile back, even if it was only a small one. “No, not the karkinoids. Your abilities. I hate to assume things, but you are quite skilled and most certainly not a regular human. Call it… an old man’s curiosity.”

For the moment, it seemed that Nell had forgotten her own arm that she’d cut open during the fight for her magical purposes, rather intent on fixing Hideki. Besides, she was used to parts of her bleeding, and as far as injuries went it wasn’t that bad. But Nell knew a dismissal when she heard one, or rather— the shutting of a book Hideki didn’t necessarily want her reading when it came to his family. She was curious, but she wouldn't pry at the moment. It was probably easier, anyway. Nell didn’t think she was particularly good at helping people sort through emotions. “Oh-” Despite herself, her pride granted her a bit of a smile as he called her skilled, and that grin widened as he took it upon himself to claim his ‘old man’ title. “I’m a witch,” she shrugged, as if it was everyday news. “A spellcaster, if that’s easier for an old man to grasp. And you’re...a kitsune?”

“A witch?” Hideki echoed, gears turning in his mind. That made the most sense, but he was admittedly still wary of her. What kind of witch had knife skills like that? And blood magic? Clearly, its healing abilities had done him some good, but, as far as he understood it, blood magic was generally… disapproved of. He’d need to do more research on the subject to be sure. Most concerning of all, was that he wasn’t entirely convinced she wasn’t a hunter. He did his best to keep his face calm as he weighed his options but mainly kept his gaze downcast. “A+, little witch,” the subtle insult made him chuckle as he finally met her eyes, his own glittering mischievously. “I am what is known as a Kasai - or Fire - Kitsune.” His Japanese accent slipped a little as the words from his native tongue rolled past his lips.

Nell wasn’t sure what to make of his tone, feeling like something was shifting back into the territory they normally inhabited of tit for tat, and sizing one another up. Perhaps their momentary little truce was over? “Yep,” she simply said, confused what other answer he might be looking for. “Black cat and all. Pointy little hat for sure.” Well...the black cat comment wasn’t entirely wrong. And then she was back to her impassioned outbursts as he hit just the right button. “Well we can’t all be freakish giants!” But then she was coming down a little once more. “And your A+ isn’t going to get me to enroll.” Kasai, she knew she’d heard the word before when she’d been talking with her kitsune friends she’d met in Japan, but she hadn’t stayed long enough to know all the types of kitsune and their names. “Funnily enough- I might have guessed the fire bit from the whole barbecue shrimp act. At least we’ll eat well tonight, right?” She’d finished with his hands, and pointed to a nearby counter, indicating he should sit on it. “Alright, feet.”

Getting the desired rise out of her made him laugh. It wasn’t his fault he was over a foot taller than her. Hideki shrugged his shoulders as she refused to enroll yet again. “Perhaps one day you will change your mind and prove to the rest of the professors that you could be a fantastic student.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, knowing full well how ‘cringey’ it may be. His students taught him that word the other day. He nodded, in agreement and slowly shifted a long leg up on the counter so she could have better access. “We might as well open up a seafood restaurant. A one night, lobster-only buffet. It could be quite profitable if we play our cards right.”

Nell’s nose scrunched in her disapproval as she pushed out a hand to shove him lightly in the shoulder. “Stop laughing! Short is normal!” But her face quickly shifted to entirely nonplussed, looking mildly concerned and perhaps disturbed at such movement of his eyebrows. “What was that?” But then her next reaction was to laugh a bit. “That was terrifying. You should have done that at the karkinoids!” Her amusement was kindled by talk of a restaurant as she bent a bit to begin work on his feet. “One-night while supplies last. We could be rich. We’ve already got the place and the health code...grade thingy,” she finished while pointing towards the window where the paper was posted.

“Oh yes, I’m quite certain my eyebrows would have stopped the karkinoids in their tracks,” Hideki mused, as he leaned back a bit, examining their surroundings. “I suppose… we really should donate any profits to the owners, though,” he said with a soft sigh. “I do hope the repairs to this building don’t take too terribly long.” Hideki’s apartment was only two blocks away and he stopped into Coffee Plus on his walks to school each morning. He knew he was fully capable of making his own coffee, but the mere thought of such inconvenience. Which reminded him… “Whatever happened to your muffin?”

“You never know. Have you tried it?” As he leaned back her gaze shifted upwards for a moment to make sure he wasn’t falling or something, and she was once again reminded of his lack of shirt. In a moment, she was floating his discarded cardigan towards them, it landing just beside him on the counter. “Yeah...probably. This kind of thing isn’t exactly uncommon here, though- you know?” Now that she thought about it, she realized she hadn’t the faintest idea how long Hideki had lived in White Crest. “Are you upset for the owner, or your loss of coffee?” she teased. But at the very mention of her muffin, her eyes widened in the slightest, her lips uttering a mournful cry of, “My muffin.” She didn’t spare a second to summon that too, though her pout only strengthened as it came into view. It was in miserable shape, and was there a....bit of karkinoid shell sticking out of it? “My muffin,” she repeated again, this time it being more of an acceptance of the poor thing’s fate. “I guess...would you like a bit of it now? I might be able to share.”

Any kind of response was lost on him as his precious cardigan came floating into view. Sure, he was rather accustomed to magic considering his upbringing, but making things float was not something his family members were generally capable of. He watched like a fascinated child until it finally came to land beside him. “Thank you,” he muttered as he pulled his sweater back on. Hideki purposefully refused to answer her question, though; he was definitely only upset about the coffee, but he wasn’t about to genuinely admit that. The muffin floating still surprised him and he watched as she examined it. “Share?” Bewildered, he stared at her for a moment before laughing. “No, I think we should leave it as inspiration for our dessert menu instead.” With his hands and feet nearly cared for, he finally stopped joking around and leaned forward. “However, I think we should focus our priorities on your arm instead of our faux restaurant. Are you… able to heal yourself? Would you like me to fetch you some bandages?”

Nell watched with some amusement as he seemed to be all too eager to have his cardigan back, though she did not more than shrug in response to his thanks. A small, non-verbal motion that simply meant ‘don’t mention it’. But she also wasn’t going to let him get away that easy with avoiding her teasing question. “Hmm, your silence is awfully telling. Don’t you think?” She wouldn’t judge though. At least not right now. Her own chuckle peppered through the air as he seemed mystified by the muffin. “Oh- come on. I’m being so generous, and this is the thanks I get?” As he shifted his posture, again she looked up, surprised to find that he was closer than before. “I- what?” Oh her arm. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It kinda comes with the territory.” Nevertheless, this time a small pile of bandages appeared from seemingly thin air on the counter, Nell having magicked them here from home. Suddenly, she was hit with a small wave of fatigue. Perhaps she’d done one too many spells in quick succession after the glass stunt, but she brushed it off. After all, healing generally took more out of her than other magics. “I’ll just put them on in a bit. Magical healing isn’t always as prudent for me.” She’d healed her sacrificial wounds before, the ones she made in exchange for power, but sometimes doing so had...unexpected consequences. It seemed that something in magic didn’t always approve of healing something that was meant to be freely given in exchange for power so quickly. Perhaps it felt cheated. “Thank you, though,” she said, remembering her manners at the last moment. After all, it was nice of him to ask.

“When you get to be my age, you learn quickly where your loyalties lie. Mine just so happen to belong to a caffeine addiction,” Hideki finally admitted with a quiet but knowing laugh. Nell was right in that things like this just… happened in White Crest. He’d been there about a year and a half and had learned that lesson quite quickly. The sudden appearance of the bandages on the counter startled him, making him jump. He scrutinized them as though they might come alive, and then he scrutinized her calm demeanor. She wasn’t acting as though anything were out of place… so it must’ve been her doing. He relaxed and turned his gaze to his palms, where he experimentally made a fist. The scabbing would restrict a bit of his movements, but he figured his fine motor skills weren’t too impaired. “Come now, little witch. No need to be stubborn over a simple fix.” He leaned forward - proving himself to be quite flexible - as he gently took her by the elbow of the injured arm and led her towards him for better access. He examined the gash and plucked the bandages off the counter. “I may not have the magical ability to heal, but I’ve cleaned my fair share of wounds.”

Nell’s head tilted to the side, realizing that along with him being a kitsune, she really didn’t know how old he was. “Are you admitting to being an old man, in the same breath as being willing to do anything for coffee?” She was teasing, but also genuinely curious about an answer to her first question. Trying to remember back to the rush of the fight...she couldn’t recall staring at any tails he may or may not have, but she didn’t think there’d been a plethora. Nell shouldn’t have been amused by startling him with the bandages, but another small grin slipped over her lips nonetheless. She’d have to warn him next time. “How’s it feel?” she asked, craning her head a bit to try and get a look at his hands. Be careful though, I don’t want you to open up the scabs.” She grumbled a bit over her apparent new nickname that he’d settled on. Apparently he was determined to make it stick. But her barbs were lowered for a moment when she realized what he was doing, and let herself be brought closer. Still, she was uncertain, mind still decently confused about how they’d gotten from swiping muffins to this. “I- um- alright.” Perhaps the first time she hadn’t fought him on something. “Thanks.”

Hideki made a soft humming sound as he contemplated his answer. “By human standards, I am very much an ‘old man’, but, in the eyes of the ancient ones, I am still a baby.” He winked knowingly and set about the task of cleaning and bandaging up her arm. His touch was gentle, but a bit clumsy with how he couldn’t fully bend his fingers. It didn’t help that his hands were shaking again. He frowned as he realized he hadn’t eaten anything… again. When was his last meal? He’d had… a bowl of rice for dinner two nights ago? No wonder. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, willing his muscles to comply until he could scavenge something up. “They’re a little stiff, but I should be just fine, thank you.” Despite his shaking fingers, he tied off the bandages with a practiced ease. With his immediate concern appropriately addressed, he finally noticed the scarring that undoubtedly came from her magic. He made a mental note but decided it would be best if he simply… didn’t ask. “Now then… I vote we find my shoes and get out of here,” he muttered as he wiggled his feet, testing their new flexibility too.

Nell let out a hum of amusement before she simply said, “Baby, old man,” still having no qualms with poking some fun at him. “That explains a decent amount, though.” Like why he literally sounded like he’d come out of a different century at times. But she stilled as he went about his work, watching curiously as he did what he promised. She couldn’t...entirely remember the last time she’d let someone help this way. It seemed different than letting the healers at the Ring heal her, and she didn’t even always let them do their work. Her frown joined his as she watched his hands tremor, and she didn’t waste time to ask, “You’re sure you’re alright?” Yes, shoes would be a good idea. Despite her wave of fatigue earlier, she didn’t hesitate to call the shoes to them, as she was fairly certain she could at least handle this one other thing for the moment. “Should we see if it fits, Cinderella?” she asked, presenting them to him.

The Kitsune only nodded in response to her question, not wanting to have her worry over him. While he undoubtedly enjoyed her presence, there were some things he still needed to work out about her - such as whether or not she might be a genuine threat. He was slowly getting accustomed to things just floating towards him, but it didn’t stop his eyes from going wide as he watched. “Ah yes, my good prince. Let us see,” he laughed and held up his foot, but the laughter died in his throat as the sound of distant sirens started getting closer. Hideki paled as he looked around the destroyed coffee shop. Of course, the police would be on their way. His eyes met Nell’s for a beat and he opened his mouth, but the words refused to come out. All he could communicate was panic. He snatched the shoes and slid across the counter, bolting through the kitchen door and out of the emergency exit as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t even bother to pull his hair from his face as he sprinted down the block, completely bypassing his apartment and heading for the woods. For familiar territory. For safety.

Hm. Nell wasn’t sure how satisfied she was with his nod, but she’d have to take it for now. They needed to get out of this mess. She laughed before leaning over to help him get his shoes on, but it seemed she wouldn’t get the chance to see if the slipper fit. In another moment, she’d heard the sirens as well, and cursed lightly. “Shit.” She doubted the police would blame them for this, but you never knew who might become the scapegoat in a town such as White Crest. But Hideki’s panic held her captive for a moment, making her want to reach out and take the reins when it came to getting out of this. No sooner had she thought such a thing was he bolting for the door in a way that only raised more questions for her. Nell ran after him for a moment, but didn’t get all that far from the shop before she stumbled onto the pavement her shaky legs giving out for a moment as the cost of her magic left her less coordinated than usual. And by the time she looked up he was long gone, nothing but a single shoe left in his wake.

#c: nell #nellraiser #tw: blood #awwww yeeee

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blackcoffee85 · 6 years ago

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The Interview

Pairing: Liam × Savi (MC)

Word Count: 1570

Rating: G (Pure Fluffiness)

Description: This interview will serve as part one of the head canon for Liam and Savi.

Author's Note/Disclaimer: Life imitates art... there are nuggets about me throughout this interview. Can you identify which ones they are?

All characters (with the exception of Savi and Sienna) are from The Royal Romance Choices series and belong to Pixelberry.

Tags: @ladynonsense @zaffrenotes @sleepwalkingelite @bobasheebaby @hopefulmoonobject @nikkisha16 @poc-and-gay-choices

“Thank you, citizens of Cordonia, for joining us for a special live taping of Trend Magazine. This special taping is sponsored by Lord Maxwell Beaumont and his new book, The Royal Life. Today, we will be taking an intimate look at our King and Queen, one that gives us some further insight into who they are without the crown,” Ana de Luca smiles at the audience. “Without further ado, I would like to welcome our beloved King Liam and Queen Savi Rhys to the stage!”

From backstage Liam and Savi can hear the raucous applause from the live audience. “Are you ready, my love?” Liam holds out his hand. “With you, always,” Savi smiles at Liam, putting her hand in his as he leads them out to the stage, using their unoccupied hands to wave to the audience as they approach their seats. Liam seats Savi first and then himself.

“Thank you, Your Majesties, for agreeing to this special.” “There are no thanks needed, Ana. We were honored and delighted to be asked to do this,” Liam looks out into and grins at the audience. “I will jump right into the questions. King Liam, I’ll start by asking you the first question. The citizens of Cordonia are aware that you met Queen Savi in New York and that she came from the United States to compete for your hand during the social season, but we want to hear the details. How did you meet Queen Savi?”

“Prior to the social season, Lord Beaumont thought that I needed a break to get away - a “pre-Bachelors Bachelors party,” Liam emphasized with air quotes. “As Lord Beaumont has always been a fan of New York, he rallied Drake Walker, my best friend, and at the time one of my oldest friends, Lord Tariq, and I to go to New York. Little did I know that one of our outings would lead to the bar where I would meet the love of my life and the future Queen of Cordonia.”

Savi adds, “Prior to meeting King Liam, I had been having a rough time over those last couple of months. I had recently graduated from Fordham University with dual Bachelor's degrees in Social Work and Sociology but was having a hard time finding work in my field that paid enough to afford me the opportunity to work only one job. That meant that I was waitressing on the weekends, on top of my full-time career as a housing case manager to cover my living expenses. Before coming into the bar to begin my weekend shift, I had been at my full-time position where my supervisor had released one of my favorite clients from housing due to a drug relapse. I was devastated. When I got to the bar, we were short-staffed, my co-worker Daniel was trying to leave early for his date, the manager was being difficult and I had just spilled some trash I had just taken out on myself. It was a rough night. That is, until in walked the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life. Like, I mean, FINE!” Savi looks into the audience, head cocked to the side. The audience laugh and Liam blushes. Savi continues, “Kind cocoa eyes, beautiful accent, and that smile.” Savi places her hand over her chest, swooning and looks at Liam. “I melted. I just knew there was something different about him and the next morning, I thought, “what do I have to lose?” and I was on a plane with Drake and Lords Beaumont and Tariq on my way to Cordonia to compete in the social season.”

“Oh, my goodness!’ Ana exclaimed, “would you say that it was love at first sight?” Taking each other's hands, and locking eyes at the same time, Savi and Liam blurt “YES!” to “ohhhhs” and “ahhhhhhs” from the audience.

“Next question, and Queen Savi, we will start with you this time. What do you love most about King Liam?” Savi smiles. “His kindness.” Still holding Liam's hand, she gives it a quick squeeze. “Building up to the coronation and immediately following his start as King, Liam had been put through and seen a lot. However, he never let the things he had been through change who he was at his core or how we treated others,” Savi squeezes Liam's now trembling hand while he fights to maintain his stoic demeanor. “The night we met, I ended up serving as the guys’ unofficial tour guide. Liam was more concerned about their experience and whether or not they were having a good time then he was about his own.” Liam smirks recalling the memory of the five of them at Savi’s private spot on the beach. “His kindness, his heart, is what made me fall deeply in love with him and also affirmed what kind of king I knew he would be and is for Cordonia. Plus, you see him, right?” Savi gestures up and down next to Liam’s chair with her hand. “My husband, who is a king, is Fine. He is fione! Liam blushes a deeper shade of crimson, chuckling while shaking his head at his wife before switching back to a more serious tone.

“What I love about Queen Savi is her honesty and directness. As evidenced by the way she just described my looks.” Liam smirks at Savi while the audience laughs. Liam continues, “One of the things that Queen Savi has taught me, as her partner and as a man is the need to be effective in my communication. What I also learned is that while I think it is easy for Queen Savi to be honest with me, sometimes it comes at a cost to her.” Liam pauses, looking at Savi who is nodding her head in approval before he continues.

“It is very clear that Queen Savi is a Black American woman and was not born in Cordonia. When the scandal with Tariq occurred, the Cordonia people made no qualms about some of their racist and specifically anti-Black views. In America, Black women advocating for what they need is seen as something negative. I cannot imagine the toll it takes on her to be authentically herself as a Black woman while also serving as a queen with that level of scrutiny.”

Savi interjects, “I am still working through the stigma of how I was perceived in America and how some Cordonians may still think of me despite the scandal with Tariq being over six years ago. I don't expect people to relate directly to my experience as a Black woman, but I do expect people to be aware of their biases and unlearn them, just as I have had to be mindful of and work to overcome my insecurities.”

“Ana, I'd like to add more one. I'm also in love with Savi's strength. I don't know any Queen who would this honest about who she is. As part of our vows, we made it a point as King and Queen to leave a very different legacy than those before us, even different from my father, Constantine. I could have never imagined that Cordonia could flourish in the way it has over the past couple of years and I am thankful for each day that I get to experience this life with Queen Savi and Princess Sienna.”

“We truly could not have asked for more kind, benevolent and thoughtful rulers, Your Majesties. Thank you for giving the Cordonia citizens this peek into your life behind the castle walls. Our time is almost up, but, Queen Savi, I believe you have a surprise for King Liam before we end this special edition of Trend Magazine.” “That I do!” To the left of the stage, Regina comes out holding the hand of their spirited five-year-old daughter, Sienna. Sienna sees Liam and breaks out in a sprint, Liam standing to catch and wrap his little chocolate drop in his arms. Kissing her cheeks, Liam sits and adjusts Sienna in his lap to face the audience. In Sienna’s ear, Liam whispers “wave to the audience little chocolate drop.” Sienna excitedly waves to the audience and the audience waves back in kind. Ana leans into Savi, “she’s a natural.” “She gets it from her father,” Savi laughs.

“Sienna, we have a secret for daddy, don’t we?” Sienna excitedly bounces up and down, “can I tell him now?” “Sure, baby.” “Daddy,” Sienna turns to face her father. “Yes, Sienna?” Liam beams down on the little girl that shares his eyes and smile. “Can you help me take my sweater off, I'm hoooootttttttttt,” she whines. Liam chuckles, “sure, sweetie.” Liam stands Sienna up facing him to remove her sweater. Upon seeing the wording on her shirt, his eyes grow wide. “Daddy, do you think I'm going to be a good big sister?” Eyes shining, he hugs Sienna tightly and says, “you'll be the best big sister because you are fierce, honest, and protective, just like momma.” Still holding Sienna, Liam stands and pulls his two girls into the biggest bear hug he can. “Daddddddyyyy you’re squishing me.” Liam and Savi laugh, wiping tears from their eyes before Liam puts Sienna down. “Sienna, show the audience your shirt.” Sienna proudly stands facing the audience.

On her shirt reads, The only present I want to open on Christmas is William Jackson George Rhys. Delivery scheduled for 12/2019.

#the interview #Choices TRR #liam x mc #liam x savi

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erhiem · 3 years ago

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Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Cuckoo Mess Anges D Mode! ‘What’s in fashion?’ You are welcome here. What a stylish seven days have been! This week, as of now, we’re bringing you our go-to picks on the best shows, including Matthew Williams’ double whammy, a dispatch from New York’s totally popping New York, and all you need to know about BALENCIAGA’s Instagram black-out. is required !!! Crazy, we know! Read on to find out what’s in fashion.

Photography ryan o’toole. Image courtesy of Bianca Saunders

Raise a glass to Bianca Saunders!

As you’re certainly well aware, fashion awards season is underway. Following the announcement of Matty Bowen’s double win at the International Woolmark Awards a few weeks ago, we now turn to the ANDAM Awards, great lady List of French fashion awards instituted by Nathalie Dufour. This year’s final seven were basically a hit list of some of our favorite talents – Bianca Saunders, Casablanca, Aria, Ludovic de Saint Cernan, Roch, GmbH and Grace Wells Bonner – so whoever took home the €300,000 cash from Balenciaga CEO Injections and Sal’s advice from Cedric Charbitt would have been totally deserved. Given the nature of fashion contests, though, there can only be one winner, and this year — after blown up the panel with her upcoming SS22 collection — Bianca Saunders scooped up the main gong! She said on the announcement, “I cannot express in words how thrilled I am to receive such a prestigious award and I am truly honored.” “Consulting with such a major player in the industry, as well as financial support like this, will really help me grow my business and realize my lifelong dream – establishing Bianca Saunders as a global fashion brand. ” A dream we are sure will come true. M / s

Image courtesy of Acne Studio

Acne Paper launches new book

Earlier this week, Acne Studios gave us the . took a trip down memory lane with the launch of acne paper, a book that celebrates the legacy of Acne Studios’ brief but remarkable time in the editorial arena. To celebrate the occasion, we asked Thomas Persson, the magazine’s former editor-in-chief, to tell us the stories behind some of the most iconic moments from its collection. If that doesn’t convince you to see it, we should also add that the 560-page coffee-table tome also includes a portfolio by photographer Christopher Smith and new essays by Sarah Mower, Vince Aletti, and Robin Muir. More than just a nostalgic return to the world of fashion editorials, it’s a priceless window before social and digital media took over the game. KK

Photos courtesy of Hunza G, Chromat and ISA Boulder

Designers pushing swimwear

It’s a new world, darling! And after this summer, if your wardrobe isn’t spacious, exuberant, and eco-conscious, you can’t sit with us. Luckily, these four swimwear brands; Issa Boulder, Chromat, KNWLS and Hunza G are here to redefine what it means to be ‘bikini-ready’, showing you what can actually reduce your impact on the planet while still Aa fab beach look is pulling off. From Isa Boulder’s pursuit of what it means to be “oddly sexy” to an appreciation of chromate’s curves, cellulite, and scars, to bikinis made from recycled Lycra yarn, these new jean labels are defying conventions and their own rules. are making. Read more here. KK

Balenciaga logs off

Eight years ago, Phoebe Philo said that “the best thing is when you don’t exist at Google.” Her adage still holds, although if the recent antics of some of fashion’s biggest players are to be noted, the best thing to do today is when you’re not on Instagram. Following in the footsteps of his Kering stablemate Bottega Veneta, Balenciaga has cleaned up his Instagram account! And in case that wasn’t drama enough for you, they have done so just days before the much-anticipated fashion revival of Demna!! fashion gasp!!! Unfortunately, we don’t know more from you what that means, but the timing and the fact that the account itself goes live will mean a big fucking moment is in store. And much more to keep your eyes glued to your screen fast! xoxo M / s

Alex Takes a Moody Beach Trip

Think about a trip to the beach, but make it appealing. Matthew Williams did just that to present his latest collection for 1017 ALYX 9SM’s, “BEYOND.” In a Brody movie, the American designer took us on a surreal sci-fi trip to the shores of Planet Alix and fielded a rich collection with hippie-inspired styling, futuristic textures, and oversized hoodies. A colorful bikini with matching leggings, a structured double-layered hoodie, distressed jersey, soft cotton dress with twist and knot details, and an armor-like leather moto jacket, it was a perfect synthesis of fantasy, comfort, and wearability—one that Just what we all want from a post-pandemic look! KK

Givenchy Resort in Paris Was About an American

Think your schedule is packed? Well, imagine what Matthew Williams must have looked like! Long booked and busy, these past seven days the California-based designer created the Alyx . left my latest collection for and A whole ‘Nother One for Givenchy! In his latest outing for a Parisian home, he decided to focus on the spaces he calls home. “In my collection, I always speak to living reality,” he says. “For Spring 2022, our first pre-collection runway show, I wanted to bring together my American roots and my brand new life in Paris.” Here, a sense of transatlantic cross-pollination came through strong in the pieces, suggesting a unique sense of Parisian chic – think high-collared dresses with armor-like leather sleeves and cut-out slinky evening dresses. Jacket – street and quirky with a healthy dash to American. “There is an energy to strike out for a new adventure, of creating something familiar yet completely new,” says Matthews, a key vehicle for that sense of newness is his collaboration with Seattle-born, Mexico-based artist Chito. , whose looks, accessories and even expressive graphics feature on the Rimowa suitcase. Chapeau, Matthew! Who doesn’t love an American in Paris! M / s

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Gauntlet Cheng takes to New York at night

New York, New York, it’s one hellish city… and it’s back! In fact, as you may have seen on your screen when all the elite fashion lesbians in town together livestreamed Madonna crawling over a bar and bubbly (we love it!), the Big Apple is alive and kicking once again. is killing. There are very few people, however, more thrilled to see life return to their streets than Esther Gauntlett and Jenny Cheng, the combined force behind — you guessed it — Gauntlett Cheng, and stylist and photographer Thistle Brown. In fact, they’re so excited that they even paid tribute to the lively night spirit of their newly-revived hometown in their recent campaign, featuring none other than Coco Gordon Moore. Here, all three of us need to know about the photos, what they missed most about New York at night, and their post-wax party essentials. M / s

hi friends! For those not familiar with Gauntlet Cheng, quickly tell us the story behind the brand, and how you work together. Esther Gauntlet: Jenny and I met about 7 years ago while interning together at Eckhaus Latta. Our first shoot with thistle was in 2018 at a love motel in New Jersey. We connected immediately and realized that he really understood our clothes and the way we work.

And for those of us not in New York right now, tell us: What’s the atmosphere like? like: It’s just honestly crazy. The roads are completely packed and there is a kind of mental energy everywhere. We shot it in Times Square on a Saturday night and I assumed it would be quiet – theaters are still closed and that was before a lot of restrictions were lifted. It was really wild though – people on ATV bikes, people everywhere and kids taking prom pictures. I feel like we were all a lot more excited and excited out there.

thistle brown: New York is definitely back, alive and kicking!

jenny cheng: Plus, it’s hot in New York right now, and we’re all reconnecting and embracing each other despite the stickiness.

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

What is the story behind the campaign? TB: I moved back to NYC after living in New Zealand (where I grew up) for a few months. I think I leaned back on my teen melancholy albums while I was there. I couldn’t stop listening to PJ Harvey City Stories, Sea Stories. The album is a love song for NYC, it’s about being young and open to a city that treats you like an unlikely lover. When the girls asked me to shoot something, I thought we needed to shoot in the thick of it, to bring back the lights and all those vibes of Manhattan.

JC: We wanted to capture a classic New York City look, but with a sense of newness – a spring energy.

What made Coco Gordon Moore your ideal star? TB: I’ve always been inspired by Coco’s mystery, grace and spontaneity. There’s something so outspoken about her while at the same time having a delicate sensibility. To be honest, I could make a book about cocoa.

like: Coco has an incredible energy – everything came alive on her but she really looks home.

JC: Totally, Coco is a star! It was great to see the synergy between thistle, cocoa and the city. It was so magical and so energizing, especially when Coco’s curls were open.

There is quite a sensual, nocturnal energy to the images. What have you missed the most about NYC nightlife? like: I missed the ease of it. The feeling of walking on a hot summer night and you can bump into anyone, and anything can happen.

JC: I used to remember those holiday parties we would throw where we would dress up and see all our friends. Hopefully we can do another one soon.

TBI think New York nightlife is now beyond a relic, we’ve realized that the city can’t function without it. We have a lot of friends who depend on it for income too, so it’s really important that we don’t forget how special it really is.

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Tell us about the night Coco is going out. where is she going? Who is she looking at? like: I think there’s a certain undoing in the photos, like she’s going out and coming back from something. It feels like she sorts herself in the big city but is at home and at ease there.

JC: She doesn’t have a plan, she’s taking everything in it, taking it as it goes, feeling a little flirty.

TB: She is just doing her job, looking lost but never alone. Making moves and eventually landing the right party.

Finally, what are your top five post-pandemic New York nightlife? E: Time to wear a dress again! A bag that can fit a bottle of wine you’ll probably drink by the river. The people you love. People you haven’t seen in a long time. It’s only four, but don’t think you really need more than that…

J: Shooting hoops in the park in the evening, eating chips and walking on the river with friends, wearing beach-ready clothes, rose water mist, and feeling sexy in no time.

T: Chapstick, bike at night, showing skin, dancing in the streets or on the river, and smooching crushes you couldn’t catch before.

The post Balenciaga’s black-out and New York’s big return: What’s in fashion? appeared first on Spicy Celebrity News.

#IFTTT #WordPress

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 7 years ago

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What I really learned from my FFWPU / UC experience

Never ever ever under any circumstances ever ever listen to or believe a single word any person, particularly a religious person, ever says ever. Watch only their actions.

2011

Here is how that one came to be: Sun Myung Moon (SMM) would say “live for the sake of others”. But his actions suggested one should instead control others and in doing so amass oneself great wealth. SMM would speak about being humble, but crowned himself king of all kings in a gaudy spectacle the likes of which should have sickened the members that paid for it. He would say love and serve others, but not one single church activity was truly charitable or humanitarian other than R.Y.S., Religious Youth Service (which he didn’t create). The primary purpose of church activities was influence peddling. SMM said he wanted peace, but I knew for certain that there would be no peace if someone else was king.

The chorus of clueless cheerleaders helped solidify the lesson. They would tell me SMM and co. founded a utopian movement that would bring about world peace and establish one big global family. But I could see as plain as day that what SMM actually built was a regressive social structure of royalty and serf classes. They would go on and on about how SMM was a “true parent of all mankind”. But I had the misfortune of spending a lot of time being one of the serfs for his children and it was quite clear to me that in fact he had fathered some of the most heartless and vicious people in the world. And he certainly made no evident effort to provide much of anything tangible for the members that were supposed to be his “spiritual” children.

I thank SMM for the lesson. Although maybe it was not quite what he intended…

I contrast all this with my mother. She never gave speeches and never tried to have power over other people or control them. She never flew around in private jets and never crowned herself queen of anything. And yet those who knew her would have done anything for her.

At her funeral a woman came up to me and told me how perplexed she had been by my mother. During the last few months of my mother’s life, this woman had come to our house every few days to minister, something I guess church women do these days. She said that despite being the one doing the talking, it was actually she who also did the learning, not my mother. Without anyone realizing it the tables had been turned.

I knew exactly what she meant. I had come home to see the process in action a few times. Picture a frail and emaciated woman, bed-ridden and subject to bouts of extreme coughing, being lectured on God’s providence by some do-gooder. And then when the speaker finished, with a big smile on her face, she would breathlessly and with difficulty ask about the speaker’s family. How are they doing? How are your husband and daughter? I was always stricken by how tangible her concern was. She was dying, could barely breath, was in unimaginable pain, and yet would sit through a lecture on a topic she knew far more about than the speaker, and her first concern was how this other person’s family was. And it was genuine. It was all real.

Was this the illusive, much talked about, but rarely seen “true love”? Was this genuine selflessness? I do not know. Maybe.

My mother’s life taught me that personal goodness is self evident. It does not need to be advertised, does not require power or the absolute obedience of an ever expanding audience and does not seek recognition of any kind. And considering she was one of the most “good” people I have ever known, I would have to say that she was also evidence of a big inverse correlation between power/money and goodness. The two do not appear to mix well.

Her later years also taught me the value of independence. She was not particularly obedient. She had the temerity and strength to question things honestly and sincerely and arrive at conclusions that were not necessarily the dictated orthodoxy. It was not arrogance as I have so often seen the Moons accuse people of when they showed open objectivity. It was honesty. And to be honest, particularly with oneself, it was apparent to me that one has to figure things out independently and cannot let an organization or a dogma or any sort authority figure dictate it, particularly one that benefits financially from another’s obedience.

Conversely, the steadfastness with which Moons sought total control over people by preaching absolute obedience and deterring questioning led me to several conclusions. First, people who try to control you are never your friends. They are either your parents or they are your enemy. Sometimes they are both. Second, obedience where the ultimate goal has not been thoroughly questioned is a sign of mental weakness and should not be respected or emulated (can you imagine how much less bloodshed the world would have seen if soldiers had questioned their commanders and refused to fight without a good reason?). Third, real wisdom generates its following organically without force, pressure or heavy advertising. Those things are often a sure sign that the peddlers of the product are insecure about its quality.

Ironically, I also learned the value of humility and compassion from my parents and the first gens around them, and had a great example in the Moons of the horrible effects of excess and hubris. My parents are good people, not “great” people. To me “great” people, people of historical significance, are a lot like black holes. Their gravitational pull swirls everyone around them into an order of sorts. In a strange way the social order requires their existence, just as our galaxy requires the existence of the massive black hole at its center. But, like black holes, they pull others into their orbit and don’t let go. If some happen to benefit from that, it is chance, not design.

SMM is a “great” person. But so was Saddam Hussein. George W. Bush tried to be a “great” person, chasing a dream of being the man that brought democracy and christian goodness to the Middle East. But mostly the results were a bunch of people killed, lives ruined and the US citizens further in debt.

Good people, on the other hand are like one of my favorite bumper stickers – they think globally but act locally. They give back and they care. You, their friends and family, are important to them and are why they do what they do. It is basic, simple and seems small and not all that glamorous, but their collective action is very tangible and very real and very large. They do the right thing without chasing personal glory or trying to outdo historical figures in pointless endeavors that ruin lives.

Unfortunately good people are all too often collaterally damaged by the actions of “great” people as they pursue ever greater glory for whatever reason they use to justify their actions. And sometimes no one does anything about it, which brings to mind another lesson I learned from SMM. There is no justice. There is no cosmic retribution. Bad people can and do get away with their crimes.

If you want justice you have to get off your ass and pursue it yourself.

I watched a video of SMM recently having a jolly time at some mansion surrounded by fruit stacks and sycophants and thought to myself, “He’s going to get away with it. Soon he’ll be dead and there will never have been any restitution for the lives he ruined. He’s won.”

The truth is that he has not really won. While it may be small comfort to his victims, like many bad people he has in a way reaped what he has sown. His children are miserable people who don’t know friendship or empathy and lack most qualities one would consider basic and good in humanity. None will ever be happy. That fact cannot possibly be lost on SMM. He cannot trust them and he cannot even trust his old friends like Kwak any more. They have been corrupted by the money and power as he has, and have left him alone and afraid. For all his show of power, for all the empty ceremonies, invisible victories, coronations, and pointless speeches, his legacy is no different than any of the many “great” people before him – a family of moral ghosts. And the world is no better for his existence.

It’s probably worse.

Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you angry. – Aldous Huxley

MLP

My advice on leaving the UC

Buying Moon a Shiny New Rolls Royce

Fun with numbers

The Incident at the New Yorker Hotel

Sad Stories Pt. 1

#MLP

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shenzhenblog · 6 years ago

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Tomorrow’s Products And Services Need To Offer Innovative (Not Just Iterative) Experiences

Napa Valley, what a wonderful place to visit. Some of my favorite wineries are in Napa. Paraduxx, Far Niente, Harlan, Mascot, Nickel and Nickel, Chandon, Domain Carneros, Cuvaison, Schug, just to name a few. Napa is also a wonderful place to work. And, I recently had an opportunity to do so when I was asked share my vision of the future at the Senior Living Innovation Forum.

I’m not an expert in senior living care nor am I a master of its business models and regulations. But I’ve studied the evolving nature of consumer expectations, preferences and their strengthening power of choice. I’ve studied how entrepreneurs, investors and bold legacy businesses are paving new roads to deliver modern products and experiences that cater to this evolving generation of connected customers. At some point, we are all the customers we are trying to reach. We all want experiences that build upon or at least deliver no worse, but hopefully better and more enchanting than the last great experience we had…regardless of industry.

The core of this presentation applies to every business and every institution.

Why Every Business Needs to Re-Imagine Experiences for a New Economy

In a talk that offered fresh insights applicable to senior housing, futurist Brian Solis stressed the essential differences between ‘iteration’ (refining what works to make it work even better) and ‘innovation’ (developing something genuinely new).

Recognizing that they need to embrace change at some level, many large companies have begun launching Innovation Labs, where a various stakeholders collaborate to create and prototype radical solutions to problems. However, about 95% of the developments these companies are calling ‘innovations’ are really just refinements of current processes. Truly radical ideas get watered down.

“Success makes us complacent; we become risk averse,” the award-winning author, keynote speaker and principal analyst at the Altimeter Group told the Senior Living Innovation Forum. “So we iterate. We do the same things better.”

Senior living falls into this iteration trap, said Solis, who shared case studies of companies in other industries that are truly innovating backed by examples of what they’re doing right, as well as cautionary tales of brands that refused to change. If your business is being complacent, someone will come along and develop something better. “Remember, there was a time when business as usual was leading edge.”

Experience Has Replaced the Kodak Moment

“We have to remember that what was offered in the past and what is offered today were designed for different times and expectations in a world that didn’t have much to choose from,” Solis said.

“Convention, business as usual, was very much the standard. What if we looked at other industries, other markets, other customers?

Solis referenced the fall of Kodak, which once dominated its industry. If you’re over a certain age, you know the story of Kodak. “Someone in your house was the keeper of the pictures. Those were memories. That was the Kodak moment.” But digital photography changed our relationship with pictures. “They went from memories to experiences.”

During this transition, Kodak’s leadership dug in its heels, allowing the industry giant to be left behind. It filed for Chapter 11 in 2012. “Kodak lost touch with what the Kodak moment meant.”

Experience Drives Innovation

Addressing senior living industry leaders, the author of “What’s the Future in Business” added: “There’s a group of us who don’t want to change. Who want to hold onto the world as we know it. The one thing I’ve learned about disruption is that disruptors can be disrupted. Every company is ripe for disruption.”

Solis defined experience as “something you feel, something you sense and interpret. It’s measured by how you react.” Through his research he’s learned that experience is the number one driver of innovation. “Those in the know have figured out that the customer has changed. There’s a new normal.”

To benefit, the senior living industry needs to embrace an experience design approach to improving and reinventing its communities. Experience design is the practice of developing products, processes, services, events, environments and more with focus placed on the quality of the user experience.

He asked his audience how every aspect of a senior living provider’s operation—from your website to your landscaping/interior design and staff—makes the people who will be living in your communities and their families feel?

To remain relevant and competitive in the coming decades, senior living (like all businesses) must embrace experience design and make it work for them. “Experience design is nascent, but it’s going to be a key differentiator from here on out,” he said.

“You are in the experience business and your clients are guests. Their children and loved ones are your customers too. And they have an increasing set of demands that center on experiences. Every single day technology is teaching them a new set of demands they’re entitled to.”

If, as an industry, senior living is slow to adapt, it’s not alone. “Most companies around the world haven’t yet put their finger on this new normal,” Solis said. “This creates a growing epidemic of out-of-touchness, and it has led to an innovation divide between executives and customers.”

Iteration vs. Innovation (Know the Difference)

As we mentioned above, funding Innovation Labs has become common practice across many industries, including hospitality. A number of these companies have invited Solis to study their methods and offer feedback.

While he finds that many of these labs are constructive, the improvements they’re developing are usually iterations, refining existing practices, rather than true innovation, which often means tossing our existing practices and introducing new ones that make current practices obsolete.

Real innovation is a shock to the system, he emphasized. It means abandoning practices that are working today for ones that take time to implement and may not hit their stride for years.

“We spend our lives following rules, but innovation asks us not to follow rules. It’s hard to wrap our minds around this and change our behavior.”

A quick example of innovation vs. iteration in the same industry–while TV technology continues to both innovate and then iterate to create an ever-evolving product, each new version of the television remote is the same-old/same-old with new features attached. “On average there are 70 buttons on a remote control.”

Banking With Google?

Industries like senior living — which, obviously, addresses an older demographic — still need to understand the impact apps and online services are having on society.

Recently, Solis has been working with a number of banks and other financial institutions. “About 73% of millennials said they expected to bank with Google, Amazon or Apple over the next five years,” he said, emphasizing that none of these three currently offer banking as an option.

“That is such a powerful response in that they don’t want to even think about banking with a bank because it’s so different from the apps they’re used to,” Solis said.

Social media and apps are making us more discerning, while our expectations for goods and services rise daily. “The more connected we become the more informed we become. The more informed we become we get empowered. We become demanding. We become impatient. And that plays out in decision making and how we sit and experience.”

What’s the next hot app?

While social media addiction has become a problem, Silicon Valley continues to innovate in ways that make our lives better, even when the exacerbate our tendency toward impatience. “How long is too long to wait for an Uber before you open the Lyft app?” asked Solis. “In New York City that number is five to six minutes. Doordash, Apple, Tesla and others are changing the normal.”

He referenced an app many hadn’t heard of: Filld. “It’s the Uber of gas. A truck will pull up and fill my car and I don’t even have to be there. The minute I used this app for the first time was the last time I went to a gas station. Because it was disruptive. It introduced new value and made the old process obsolete,” Solis said.

“This got me thinking, where’s this for dentistry? Why isn’t’ my doctor doing this? That’s all coming.” He prompted senior living to begin thinking along these lines.

Lessons Senior Living Can Learn From Airbnb

In any industry, when competitors innovate, the natural response is often to ignore the disruptor for as long as possible, then try to shut it down and regulate it. Key examples include traditional taxis vs. Uber and, closer to home for senior living, Airbnb vs. hotels.

“Of course, the final response is learning how to compete and not lose (more) customers to the innovators,” Solis said.

And, often, even the innovators need to innovate. After its initial success, Airbnb hit a roadblock when it realized hosts and guests were having bad experiences, which, as a startup, could mean the end of investor funding.

So Airbnb did what all businesses should do, including senior living—they pulled all their data and then looked at the experiences in industries that people love. Next, they hired a Pixar storyboard artist to humanize the ideal Airbnb experience.

This approach would work for senior living, if developers choose to design resident experiences “like a Disney or Pixar movie, complete with character and story development, woven into a thoughtful and methodical universe where the experience is linked, immersive and enchanting in every moment of truth,” he said.

“Airbnb went thru the Pixar storyboarding process to learn how to reimagine its brand and the experience for guests and hosts. This lead to a cohesive vision and a guide to help hosts deliver and guests receive a desired brand experience.”

Solis added, This process allowed Airbnb to transform their brand’s guest experience, to “humanize” it in ways they never saw before. “Now there are conferences and communities of hosts; they’ve become an extension of the Airbnb brand.”

Hard, but Necessary, Work Ahead

While some innovations can seem obvious once they’re in place, a lot of effort goes into getting there, he stressed.

“None of this is easy. We have to ask ourselves ‘Where we are operating from? All innovation starts when we step outside our comfort zone,” Solis said. “All innovation comes to life when we allow ourselves to see how people live differently, how they want to live differently and do the things that connect the dots between where we are and where we want to be tomorrow.”

Note : This article was originally published on https://www.briansolis.com

Brian Solis

Brian Solis is principal analyst and futurist at Altimeter, the digital analyst group at Prophet, Brian is world renowned keynote speaker and 7x best-selling author. His latest book, X: Where Business Meets Design, explores the future of brand and customer engagement through experience design.

Tomorrow’s Products And Services Need To Offer Innovative (Not Just Iterative) Experiences was originally published on Shenzhen Blog

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flyrtreynolds · 8 years ago

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Noisey: Oddisee Just Wants You to Rethink Your Place in the Universe

Leading up to this piece, I wasn’t really happy with what I’d done recently. I thought my writing was too rigid and formulaic. I admired those who wrote with a strong voice and avoided cliches, talents I started to question whether I possessed. So I promised myself I would blow my formula up and approach things differently. I got a good opportunity to do that with Oddisee, who invited me over to his apartment to listen to his new record.

(Photos by my friend Julian Master) Sitting on Oddisee's couch, I've either just made him very happy or very annoyed. We've been talking about the producer and rapper's newest album, The Iceberg, and I've wrongly made an assumption about the focus of one of its songs, a clacking, guitar-driven tune called "This Girl I Know."

"This is about your wife," I'd blurted out sheepishly while connecting eyes with his actual wife, Aziza, who's been quietly reading in the corner of their Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, apartment during our conversation. Her response, a smile curled at the corners and shrunk with pity, told me almost immediately that I had missed the mark. Through a few stifled laughs, the rest of the room's audience, which includes both Oddisee's manager and fellow DC-bred rapper Toine, let me know that the "girl" in question is not her, but rather a metaphor for hip-hop, à la Common's "I Used to Love H.E.R."I imagine this sort of whiff was either the point of the song's figurative makeup—or a result of a dumb journalist just not listening close enough.

"It's all good," Oddisee, born Amir Mohamed el Khalifa, says with a patient chuckle. "That's what this is for."

A little embarrassed, I nod and add that I can get pretty used to "this," referring to the listening session we're having in his sunlit living room on a day following the first true blizzard of winter. Amir, dressed in blue house slippers, and Aziza have pulled out all the stops in making sure their guests of late (other writers and industry folk hoping to discuss the new project, I learn) are comfortable. This involves an impressive spread of snacks, highlighted by hummus crackers drizzled with honey, and steaming cups of red Moroccan tea that Aziza, who's Moroccan-French, mixes right in front of us in long, waterfall-like pours. Small ornaments, like two handsome silver hookahs standing in the corner and a rolling suitcase wrapped in an American flag graphic poking out of the bedroom, hint at the couple's diverse backgrounds.

This isn't just my observation; Amir points it out when I ask why he hosts journalists at his home. The warm aesthetic, he says, is meant to inspire a different picture than one you might expect from a so-called conscious rapper. That designation, left over from when the genre was split into sub-segments of mainstream and underground, is still plagued by stigmas—namely that the lyrically focused MCs of that era wear beanies with brims and sleep on their friends' couches. Amir uses his living space to dispel that notion, just as he's been using his music for years to encourage the reassessment of other timeworn assumptions.

Oddisee's dense, message-driven albums have nudged listeners into rethinking their positions in the big, bubbling universe (hint: they're not at the center of it), while his instrumental projects, crackly and brisk and built on the live instrumentation of his long-time band, differ in their sheen, which glimmers amid the hazy, compressed audio files that dominate the beat tape realm. The Iceberg, his 11th solo project overall, is a culmination of these media, combining verbal barbs on contentious topics—like the dynamic between young black men and the police—with intricate production.

"No one really wants to do the hard work of understanding why things are the way they are," he says. "My message is to try to bring everyone together to realize that we're not all that different."

That message can be directly tied to Amir's eclectic upbringing. As he explains it, his artsy side comes from his mom, who he spent weekends with in DC as a kid. In what she didn't have in material goods—she lived below the poverty line in subsidized housing—she provided in creative encouragement. His practical side, meanwhile, comes from his father, a Sudanese immigrant who was taught in England and at one point, along with Amir's uncles, traveled to the Middle East to help wealthy Persian Gulf Arabs transition to Western practices. He's now retired and, to this day, asks Amir, "How's business going?" when referring to his music. This dynamic not only provided Amir with a balanced outlook on life, but also an acute understanding of the world's diversity—or, as he explains it, its people's similarities. By splitting time between the ghetto, the upper middle-class suburbs of Prince George's Country in Maryland, and Sudan, where he visited his cousins every summer, he learned that people share a lot more in common than they think. "It made me understand why things are the way they are in the black community and how similar immigrants are no matter where they come from," he says, propping up his chin with the palm of his hand.

He speaks eloquently and, with his round glasses and slim build, gives off the vibe of the young teacher who's simultaneously chill and has his shit together. This aura shines through when he gives examples of the underlying threads that tie us all together, a topic he continues to emphasize: A figurative group of Persians, adamant about their singular qualities as a culture, don't realize that Sudanese and Colombians share some of the same traits, for example. Financially stable blacks who move to a neighborhood with cheap rent—just as Amir did seven years ago when he moved from DC to Brooklyn—are gentrifiers, too, he points out. And, my favorite out of the bunch: Fans of Toronto crooner Drake can have just as much appreciation for lyrics as those of more traditional, word-heavy MCs. I enjoy this correlation mainly for how it unfolds:

Amir: "I really appreciate [Drake's] writing style. I don't necessarily agree with all the stripper music; I can't relate to that. I've never even been to a strip club." Amir's manager: "That's not true. You performed at one in Toronto." Aziza: *Lifts head from book to stare coldly at Amir as room goes quiet.*

This isn't the first time Amir's words have gotten him into some trouble (the club's dancers weren't working that night, to clear the air). He's always used his music as a platform for promoting his beliefs, political and otherwise. Though he's diligent in shaping his rhymes to be more from the perspective of a woke friend than a berating pundit, they're still based in his viewpoints, running the risk of upsetting those who believe the opposite. This is a lesson he's learned throughout his career, with a recent example being the criticism he received over the lyrics of "Like Really," the first single off The Iceberg. Against a muffled guitar line and bullish drums, he runs down a list of sharp-ended beliefs, methodically undercutting flimsy concepts like the All Lives Matter movement. A young white fan from Colorado, he recalls, was especially upset over the song's message.

"I said, 'By all means, tell me why you disagree," he says, describing what happened when he reached out to the fan. "I've always been in a position where I've been able to understand completely where he's coming from but don't expect people to completely understand where I come from."

Critiques from a 16-year-old troll on the Internet? Easy to handle. Rejection from The White House? Not so much. Midway through our conversation I learn that Amir was slated to perform at President Obama's farewell bash in January, alongside Chance the Rapper, Kendrick Lamar and J. Cole. At the last minute, however, house officials pulled him from the bill, citing his music as too controversial. Amir believes their concern stemmed from one song specifically, "Lifting Shadows," a single off last year's EP Alwasta, where he raps, "I love my country, hate its politics." The line, coming from a proud Muslim rapper who has strong family ties to Sudan, a country that Obama left largely sanctioned (he did lift one penalty related to money transactions before leaving office,) posed potential turbulence for an administration on its way out.

Politics is a topic I'd been eagerly waiting to broach with Amir. After all, it was only a few weeks ago that Donald Trump signed in the extremely hasty and controversial ban of Muslim immigrants, an executive order that included Sudan. I figured Amir would have some strong opinions on it, even if his family wasn't directly affected (they weren't, due to their possession of US passports). But while he has plenty to say about green cards, the concept of "brain drains" and Islamophobia, he genuinely seems most hurt by Obama's staff and their move to cut him. I can't blame him. The nation's first black president built a legacy around the idea of acceptance, from deeming same-sex marriage a "victory for America" to signing in an initiative to let transgender students use the bathroom of their choice to hosting a plethora of rappers at the White House. Yet they rejected Amir, the son of an immigrant who uses his voice to critique the country in a thoughtful manner—a true patriot, by some people's definition. In a way, it's fitting: Just like his music, Amir's dismissal illustrates that a disconnect exists at every level, no matter how high.

"This is why I'm very reluctant sometimes," he says, dropping his shield of confidence for the first time. His conviction returns, however, with a look around the room. "But then you get angry. And you want to give that message."

https://noisey.vice.com/en_us/article/oddisee-just-wants-you-to-rethink-your-place-in-the-universe

#oddisee #noisey #hip-hop #the iceberg #brooklyn

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