#raging rhino mama

[iamvegorott]

Taken Away Ch 7

I decided to post this chapter early today since I was unable to post yesterday.

Rhino

“The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah.”

“Jack...please.” Mark groaned.

“We’ve been walking for so long, I’m tired.” Jack whined.

“We can stop for lunch.” Bob suggested.

“Please! I’m starving!” Felix exclaimed.

“How are you starving? You’ve been munching on the trail mix ever since we left the store.” Wade said.

“It’s called an exaggeration, man. I really just wanna sit down for a while.” Felix admitted.

“Sounds like it’s a great time for lunch.” Mark said, plopping down under a tree.

“I’m going to literally be half the man I was by the time we get back.” Bob grunted as he and the others joined Mark. “I wanted to lose weight, but not like this.”

“Exercise is good for ya, but this just sucks.” Jack slipped his bag off and had it next to him.

“There is such thing as too much exercise.” Wade stated. “Although some days just getting out of bed feels like too much exercise.” He added with a small laugh.

“We’ll save cooking the noodles during the night.” Mark muttered as he went through his bag. “Does anyone want dry cereal?”

“Me.” Jack raised his hand and easily caught it when the small box was tossed to him. “Could someone hand me a water?” He asked as he opened the box.

“Got’cha.” Bob answered, opening the suitcase. The man threw the bottle to Jack and then threw some to everyone in the group.

“Turkey jerky is weird.” Wade commented as he chewed.

“Weird in a good way or weird in a bad way?” Felix asked, taking a bite out of a granola bar.

“Yes?” Wade yanked off another bite.

“This feels like we’re just on a camping trip.” Bob said as he chewed on some gummies. “If only that was true.”

“We’ll be home in a few days, we can do this.” Mark said through a mouthful of chips.

“All we have to do is make it to that portal...it sounds too easy and good to be true.” Wade sighed.

“Sometimes things are easier than what we expect.” Jack said. “I mean, Mark got a girlfriend, we all thought that would be impossible.”

“I will cut you in your sleep.” Mark threatened with a laugh in his voice.

“True friendship, threatening to mutilate each other during the night.” Bob said.

“Fight me, scrublord.” Jack patted his chest and puffed it out towards the other man.

“My money’s on Mark.” Felix said, waving his wallet in the air.

“Same.” Wade added.

“Is no one on my side?” Jack huffed.

“You eat cake, Mark climbs rocks.” Bob explained.

“Mark eats cake too!” Jack protested. “And when was the last time Mark went rock climbing? Plus one blow to his ego and down he does.”

“Fuck you too.” Mark flipped Jack the bird.

“You two enjoy yourselves, I’m napping.” Felix said as he adjusted his bag to the sleeping bag was facing him so he could use it as a pillow.

“But we still have so much land to cover before night or we’ll never get home.” Bob said.

“Let me nap for twenty minutes and then we can kill ourselves walking another five hours straight.” Felix said, eyes already closed.

“A nap does sound great.” Wade nodded his head, plopping back.

“We can’t push ourselves too hard or we’ll die getting there like Felix said.” Mark got comfortable as well.

“You’re really pulling my leg here.” Bob chuckled and let out a small yawn. “Yeah. A nap does sound great.” He agreed as he laid down. Jack simply shrugged and leaned against the tree behind him, feeling Callie get on his stomach to nap as well.

“Why are you trying to leave?”

Jack woke with a start. Who was talking? Why did that voice keep following him? Was he going insane or was it just another thing they had to deal with because of where they were? Did the others hear it? By the fact that none of the others even moved, Jack was going to go with ‘no’.

“Don’t leave.”

“It’s only in your head.” Jack said to himself as he opened his backpack. He moved the other stuff in the bag aside and he stared at what he got at the store he’s still yet to tell the others about. Jack reached his hands in and made sure that the item was how it should be at the moment.

“You looking for something, Jack?” Mark’s voice made Jack yelp and quickly hold the bag shut.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I mean, no. I...I was just making sure that everything was fine after sleeping on the bag.” Jack chuckled nervously.

“You spilled some of the gasoline, did you? You laugh gives you away.” Mark said.

“Yep, yep. That’s it. I just got a little gasoline on the inside of my bag, nothing serious.” Jack didn’t like lying to his friend, but he wasn’t ready to tell him about what he had taken from the store. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he would get from the others. They might call him crazy for it.

“We should get the others up. We can get another couple miles in before we set up camp for the night.” Mark let out a groan as he stretched.

“Let me close this up real quick and I’ll help ya.” Jack said and zipped his backpack close before getting up with Mark.

“Alright, you lazy sacks of bones, get up!” Mark yelled and nudged Felix’s side with his foot.

“Five more minutes, mom.” Felix muttered.

“Was yelling necessary?” Wade grumbled as he sat up and rubbed his eyes with balled-up hands.

“It worked on you.” Jack chuckled while shaking Bob up.

“You’re making me jiggle.” Bob groaned and rolled away from Jack. “I’m up, just takes a big guy a bit to move.”

“Fucking get up, Felix.” Mark was dragging Felix by his feet.

“Just carry me there.” Felix said.

“Hell no, I’m already lugging that suitcase with me. I’m not lugging your ass around as well.” Mark huffed.

“You’re no fun.” Felix blew a raspberry towards Mark, finally getting up along with Bob and Wade.

“I already miss sleeping on the couch.” Wade sighed.

“You’ll be in your own…” Mark stopped his comment when a familiar rattling filled the air.

“If that son-of-a-bitch is back, I will lose it.” Jack turned his head and saw the birds flying away like before. “Shit!”

“Run!” Mark yelled at the others and took off.

“Climb a tree!” Jack yelled over the sound of screeching birds and rodents.

“What’s coming-oh, my God!” Wade cried out when the rhino-like creature charged out from the trees.

“What the fuck is that!?” Bob screamed.

“Just get up a tree!” Jack soon leaped up and grabbed a branch. “I’ll help you guys up!” He added as he hoisted himself up. He quickly stuck a hand down and caught Mark, struggling a little to help him up. He and Jack both started pulling Bob up and saw that Wade was getting up on his own.

“Help!” Felix frantically looked around for a lower branch, but couldn’t find one.

“Jump!” Jack shouted, knowing that by the time Bob was up and safe, there wouldn’t be time to help Felix.

“Fuck my ass!” Felix looked back, seeing that the Rhino was very close. “Fuck it more!” Felix jumped up and caught the branch by the tips of his fingers, not estimating his jump correctly.

“Tuck your ass in!” Wade yelled as he crawled over to Felix. Felix lifted his legs up, barely missing the rhino’s horns, but his fingers slipping off not long after and the man landed on the rhino’s back.

“Felix!” The men called after him and they all climbed back out of the tree as fast as they could.

“Go ahead of me, I’ll catch up.” Bob said to Mark and Jack, knowing that they were faster than him.

“I’ll stay with Bob, go!” Wade said. Mark and Jack didn’t wait before taking off.

Callie leaped off of Jack’s shoulder and went ahead of the men. Jack stepped on top of a dead log and used it to launch himself further with Mark right behind him. They followed the sound and feel of the rhino.

“I don’t know if it’ll be better for Felix to just fall off of the thing.” Mark said, slapping a thin branch out of the way.

“If he falls behind it, he’ll be fine.” Jack covered his face as he went through a wall of leaves.

“Oh...fuck…” Mark gasped for air when they stopped, finding themselves in an open field.

“What is this place, man?” Jack added.

“There’s the rhino and Felix is still on it.” Mark pointed down the field.

“Are those its babies?” Jack asked, seeing smaller versions of the rhino.

“Great. We’re dealing with a raging mama.” Mark sighed. “We’re never gonna get Felix back.

“Shit, Felix is trying to climb off of it.” Jack commented. “What do we do?”

“I honestly have-fuck!” Mark cursed when Felix was bucked off of the rhino.

“When could rhinos buck!” Jack yelled as he started running towards the fallen man.

“Are we seriously questioning this place? I thought we were giving up on that?” Mark said, following Jack.

“Felix! Are you okay!?” Jack stumbled to his knees next to Felix.

“I think all of the air was forced out of my lungs.” Felix wheezed.

“I felt that two days ago when I fell from a tree.” Jack said as he checked for cuts.

“Is he okay?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, the wind got knocked out of him is all. He might be a little sore, though.” Jack answered.

“The rhino does not look happy to see us.” Mark said as the rhino glared at them, loud huffs of air coming from their nose.

“Hey, fuck-face!” Wade called from the other side of the field.

“What is he doing?” Jack asked.

“Come and get me, fucker!” Wade waved his hands and started making crude gestures. The rhino’s attention was now on the other man.

“Wade! Leave!” Mark yelled.

“You want a piece of me you shit! I bet your mother was a rock!” Wade’s face was bright red in fear.

“Just go!” Felix tried to yell, but it came out as a hoarse croak. The rhino blew out more air before charging towards Wade.

“Wade!” The men could only watch as the rhino went towards Wade and they all held their breath as it ran. Wade made one more gesture at the rhino before diving out of the way, making the rhino run back into the forest and into a tree. The tree tilted over along with the rhino.

“Is Felix okay?” Bob asked as he joined the others, carrying all of the bags and suitcase.

“He’s fine, is Wade?” Jack asked, seeing that the man was still on the ground.

“Thank God!” Mark exclaimed when Wade got up and started jogging towards them.

“What the fuck were you thinking!?” Jack scolded Wade when he reached them.

“I just saved your asses is what I was thinking.” Wade said, breathing heavily.

“I bet you pissed yourself.” Felix said, still laying on the ground.

“I almost did, I’ll admit.” Wade said. “I guess I have a better story to tell Molly now when we get back.”

“She’s gonna kick your ass for being so stupid.” Jack said.

“As long as I’m with her, I don’t care.” Wade swallowed as his breathing finally started getting regular.

“You’re not allowed scaring up like that again, understood.” Mark placed a hand on Wade’s shoulder.

“Yes, mom.” Wade chuckled.

“We should get out of here before mama wakes up.” Bob said, watching the two smaller rhinos went over to the large one.

“There’s no way the tree killed her, right?” Jack asked. “I’d feel bad if we left the rhinos mama-less.”

“With how fucking strong she probably is, I give her like ten minutes till she’s up and charging again.” Wade said.

“At least the rhino took us the correct way.” Bob started handing everyone their bags. “We should walk for at least another hour before setting camp to make sure we’re far enough away. I don’t think we’re going to make it the full day after the rhino thing.”

“Will you carry me this time?” Felix asked Mark.

“Hold my bag.” Mark gave Jack his bag before getting Felix on his back. “I’m only doing this for thirty minutes.” He stated.

“I wonder if I could get some floof power.” Felix laughed as he started playing with Mark’s hair, a yelp coming out a second later after Mark dropped him.

“Nope.” Mark continued walking. “You’ve lost your riding privileges.”

[angerydj]

Rhino on a rampage, and Sandy is the only one who can calm him down. Sandy's voice and presence snaps Rhino out of his rage and he's willing to listen to reason, especially if he says "Alexander"

Lol I love that

Or aleski can be used super affectionately or as a warning flint learned it from mama the boys mostly use it for affection

But Alexander is used if he’s in trouble and needs to snap out if it

Especially cause Alex cares so so much about flint that he can’t help but listen to him especially when ‘Alexander’ is used

[jessicanjpa]

Could you talk about the other Cullens’ fighting styles? I really enjoyed your take on Alice.

Edward’s gift is similar to Alice’s in that it makes him a great defensive opponent, but he also has the advantage of speed (which is further enhanced by his ability to predict moves). He’s still better off avoiding a direct assault, at least until he can remove an arm or two. He’s great at using his speed to distract and confuse his opponent, closing in once they’re looking in the wrong direction.

I really like how Carlisle and Esme fought in tandem in the Eclipse movie, because it makes perfect sense for them. Both of them are gentle and compassionate (barring Esme’s Mama Bear Mode, perhaps?) and not at all happy about fighting. They’re probably the least prepared in terms of training (always finding excuses not to practice), and most likely to commit the fatal error of hesitation during a fight. Working together not only gives them strength in numbers, but lots of extra motivation because they’re directly protecting each other at the same time. Esme could go for immobilizing the opponent (latching onto their arms/legs with a bear hug) while Carlisle does the damage with surgical precision. 

Rosalie is pretty much a rock star. Of all the Cullens, she’s worked the most with Jasper to develop her strengths and compensate for her weaknesses. She’s the queen of the vampire tornado kick and can quickly work herself up into the protective rage that makes her such a formidable, ruthless opponent. And unlike Esme, she’s not at all shy about using her teeth and nails to shred her way through her opponent’s defenses.

Emmett just loves to use his fists and his body weight. His signature move is to aim for a clump of enemies and just bowl for a strike by charging like a rhino. But his height and wingspan are possibly even greater assets than his strength, allowing him to bear down and reach pretty far out without getting himself in too much trouble. Most of his opponents try to stay on his back, which he finds delightful because then he gets to ram backwards into a mountain or whatever to dislodge them. Of all the Cullens, he’s the pupil that most often drives Jasper nuts.

Jacob’s grudging compliment of Jasper’s style as “lightning and death rolled into one” is pretty cool, especially when you consider how preoccupied he was with Alice’s safety the whole time. Jasper’s got it all, and he uses it all with brutal efficiency. His style is by far the most adaptable of all the Cullens, what with all his assets and years of experience to guide him. His gift isn’t much use in a group-on-group scenario, so his strategy is to zip around the battlefield inflicting whatever damage-via-dismemberment is most efficient in terms of temporarily disabling enemies here and there. He often likes to strike low to hit the ankles; he also goes for thumbs a lot, since grip strength is such a necessary component to offense. Then if no one he cares about is in imminent danger, he’ll circle back out to the edge of the fight to focus on a single opponent, slowing down the pace and stirring up his gift in a way that’s tailored to that person’s emotional state.

[duluoz2]

Musicis historia mea, Pt. 1: Better Dead than Deadhead?

There was a time when I wouldn’t listen to the Grateful Dead. It wasn’t that I refused to listen to them; I just couldn’t be bothered. I actually once tried to listen to “American Beauty,” a copy of which I had received as a gift (a relative worked for Sony and had access to “original master recordings” and would give them to my brother and me; remember those?). I skipped to “Truckin’” and never got beyond that. They just didn’t grab me. I was never a hater, like many were and still are, but I did chuckle at the slogan “I’ll be grateful when they’re dead!” I was mainly an alt/punk fan, though I did have an appreciation for what would come to be called “classic rock,” the Doors, Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, and others. But I never got the Dead. When I was in college, going to see them became all the rage. But, tempted as I was to see what the hoopla was all about, I never succumbed. The only intriguing thing about the Dead was their fans. I’m not talking about the waste cases, stale hippies, or trendy college kids who liked them because it was the thing to do; I mean people who took a scientific approach to the band. Some guys I knew in college were Deadheads, before it was trendy. They would talk about tape trading, about mushroom trips that throbbed in time to the music, about the different versions of songs and how each concert had its own certain, pardon the word, vibe. These guys weren’t stale hippies or waste cases, and they certainly weren’t trendies; they were fans, serious fans. The way they described the whole Dead experience always came back to the music. It was the music that attracted them, what hooked them, and what made them so “deadicated.” But I still didn’t get it.

Fast forward many years; a colleague from the college where I teach asked me to sit in with his band. They were a talented, experienced outfit, and they needed me to fill in for some gigs in the future. I was intrigued, but unsure. You see, the bulk of their repertoire consisted of Grateful Dead songs. Sure, I told them, I’d sit in, but I wasn’t too into the Dead. I’d acquire some CD’s and give a listen and we’d see if it all worked out. That’s where it all started

My cousin Marc worked for Rhino Records, the label which just happened to be the current purveyors of the Dead’s music. He got me some CD’s, among them Live Dead, From the Mars Hotel, Skull and Roses, and the long rejected by me American Beauty. I listened, purely for the sake of learning the songs, you see. Then I listened some more. One by one, the songs etched themselves into my receptive brain; accessible rockers like “Bertha,” “Playing in the Band,” “U.S. Blues,” and “One More Saturday Night;” country sounding tunes like “Mama Tried,” “Jack Straw,” and “Cumberland Blues.” Long set pieces like “Dark Star,” “The Eleven,” and “St. Stephen;” marathon jams like “Lovelight,” and “Hard to Handle;” and the song that, in my mind, best defines the Dead, “China Cat Sunflower/I Know You Rider.” Like a true budding Deadhead, I didn’t even bother with the cliché “Truckin’.” Even the once spurned “American Beauty” worked its heretofore ineffective magic on me; it quickly became one of my favorite albums. What happened? How did I give into whatever muse it is that makes people like the Dead (who I imagine is a dreadlocked guy who smells like incense named Devin).

Well, it’s the music. Sounds cliché, I know. But that’s the truth. Similar to the Beatles, the Dead have their particular fans for their particular eras. Some favor the early psychedelic Dead; others have a preference for the mid-seventies Dead; still others cut their teeth at Dead gigs in the eighties, so that’s their preference. My era? Well, there was a time in the Dead’s career when they were between versions of the band. They started in the early sixties as a folk and bluegrass outfit, then like Dylan, went electric, calling themselves the Warlocks. The Grateful Dead evolved from there into the psychedelic explorers of the late 60’s. They then morphed into the space cowboys of Working Man’s Dead and American Beauty. In that time, they added and then lost drummer Mickey Hart and keyboardist Tom Constanten. From 1971 to 1973 they were a 5 piece with Keith Godcheaux on piano. Ron “Pigpen” McKernan, at whose urging the Dead went electric, played organ and harmonica and belted out R and B and blues rave ups like “Lovelight,” “Hard to Handle,” and “Good Lovin’”. The band was less into long experimentation and more into plain jamming. They could still whip up a mean “Dark Star,” but they could also rock. This is the Europe ’72 version of the band. This is the era that produced my favorite version of “China Cat Sunflower/I Know You Rider,” my favorite song and one that I hope to hear in the afterlife (yeah, I know, hell for many, but fucking Nirvana for me). My appreciation of the Dead can be summed up in about seven minutes of music; the transition from “China Cat” into “Rider” is an aural masterpiece, a perfect rendering of melody and musicianship; it is transcendent.

Whew. Back down to earth.

Effusive, I know, but that’s the thing about the Grateful Dead’s music. At its best, it elevates existence; it is just so good that it makes you want to get down on your knees and thank Calliope. I’m open to the fact that many don’t see it the way I see it, or hear it the way I hear it anyway. But even for the naysayers, I think there has to be an appreciation for the fact that Deadheads are such advocates for their musical worldview. It’s the reason Deadheads are so dedicated to the band and why the remnants of the Dead are still at it as Dead and Company featuring John Mayer. The gigs still happen, the deadheads still attend, many by SUV and Land Rover, sure, but they still get there. And there are still the dreadlocked, unwashed, and perennially stoned crusty hippies of all ages to add to the ambience (and not always fragrantly). Despite the absence of Jerry, Phil, Pigpen, Keith and Donna, and Brent, the experience of a Dead show still manages to reach heights of musical bliss. And no, it isn’t the drugs; I’ve attended every Dead show in my short career as a Deadhead on nothing stronger than beer (and the secondhand vapor cloud of pot smoke that is a fixture of every Dead show, no matter where it occurs).  I’ve seen Ratdog, Furthur, the Dead with all the surviving original members, and the new version. I’ve seen Bob Weir solo. I’ve even seen Cubensis, a Dead cover band. And they were all great. During each show, there was at least one point where I felt the music go to a different level into an expression of pure and unbounded beauty. Yep, it is that good. And are some of the fans a bit, well, odd? Sure, but they’re also interesting, and most are cool people. 

The first time my wife accompanied me to a Dead show, we had to get through “Shakedown Street” which is the parking lot or grassy area of any venue hosting the Dead where the vendors selling t shirts, candles, stickers, and other goods illicit and otherwise congregate. It is where you find the folks who couldn’t get tickets, or didn’t need them, and who are gathered just to be there. They are, needless to say, a pretty down to earth bunch. Some look like they’ve been following the Dead since 65; others look like they don’t even know where they are, and still others just look like plain street people. As my wife and I made our way through the stoner scrum, she held tightly onto my arm while looking around with fear in her eyes. “Relax,” I reassured her, “these people aren’t going to hurt anyone.” We got through unscathed and made our way into the venue. The usual yellow jacketed security guards were making their presence known, but this was going to be an easy gig for them; the crowd was much too mellow to cause any problems. In fact, many of the people were having meaningful conversations with the security, looking earnestly into their eyes and patting them on the back. I even saw a few Deadheads hug the security guards. Yep, easy gig.

 So turn on your lovelight, come hear Uncle John’s Band, go truckin’. As I’m writing this, I’m listening to old British punk, so the musical dichotomy that exits for me can be yours as well (one of my favorite pictures is of a mowhawked Joe Strummer with Bob Weir; the best of both worlds). As the bumper stickers used to read (and probably still do): Listen to the Grateful Dead, even if only temporarily. Then we’ll talk.