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maximum118 · 4 years

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Sitcom

Me- I decided to post in school

Heisu- WOMAN WHY.

Me- Heisu. Hush

Zen- leans in* Sooo I found a locked door...

Me- snaps head to her* did you open it?

Zen- Maybe...*Glances to the destruction behind her*

Me- YOU DID!? WHY?!

Zen- It said “Do open!”

Me- IT SAID “DO /N O T/ OPEN!!!”

Zen- Oh...heheh...whoops...

Me- GET HER BACK IN THE ROOM DAMMIT!!

Zen- But she-

Me- ZEN!!!

Zen- OK DAMN!!

Episode 2- New Beginnings pt. 2

Episode 1 / Episode 2 (You here) / Chapter 4

2 hours had passed when Kouten left the nest of the emochickens. He was just jumping on the rooftops trying to find minor heroes to rid of in the new area. If his younger set of twin siblings don't get in the way, that is.

Kouten looks behind him where Zen, also known as Retribution, was following him. He sighs. "Retribution. Why are you here?" he asks. Retribution pouts. "Can't a sister who is worried for elder brother follow him around?" she asks.

"No, she cannot because she might kill someone who isn't a hero and then land both of them in jail." He says lightly, pushing her away.

Archangel lands next to Retribution. "Then maybe the elder brother should not be a villain." He says—retribution snickers. Kouten pulls out a water bottle and aims it at Retribution. "Don't make me use this." He says.

Retribution hisses and hides behind Archangel. Kouten facepalms and smells a faint odor of a dead body.

"What the…" mumbles Kouten as he peeks over the building. He notices a dead body, "Uh. Archangel, You're a vigilante, right…?".

Archangel arches his eyebrow and checks, almost retching, "OH, THAT'S DISGUSTING." He shouts. Retribution leans over. "Ooo, dead body. Let's burn it!" says Retribution taking some fire from her wings.

"Retribution, Kou no."

"Retribution, Kou yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No. Can we not do this, you two?" asks Archangel as he looks at his twin and elder brother.

"But cremation…." Says Retribution as she puts her wings out.

"Actually, I'm in with cremation. I gotta satisfy my bloodlust." Says Kouten, Archangel facepalms. Peaking through the gaps in his fingers, Archangel recognized something in the dark. A light, moving towards the body.

The trio quietly looks from above. A black hooded person with a lantern tail stood over the body.

"Are they a hero?" whispers Zen to her brothers. Kouten looks at Archangel.

"Not all heroes know vigilantes Kouten." Whispers Archangel.

Kouten shifts his gaze over to the person. The person kneels and opens the lantern top. Allowing something to light up the inside of the lantern. After the person closed the top, Kouten jumps down to the person.

The person turns to Kouten, briefly showing ginger hair and a mask. Kouten walks up to them. "Listen, Hero. I'll give you 5 seconds to run before scorch ya." He says.

The person tilts their head, gazing at Kouten. "Hero…? I am not a hero…" he says softly.

"Wait…you aren't a hero? Then are you a villain? If that's the case, Scat!"

"I am neither a villain. I am my own thing. I will not leave just so another can kill more."

Kouten stares dumbfounded at the person. "So you are a hero?" he asks.

"…I am a person with morals and a person who senses you've been through something…years ago…"

"What..?? No, I haven't!"

The person walks closer to him, pointing to the scar on Kouten's cheek.

"that wound isn't from birth. Something truly happened to you."

Kouten doesn't say anything as he looks down. From what he can see, the person was up to Kouten's chest. Kouten also noticed ginger hair with dyed black ends.

"I also sense…you did have a heart of a hero once…"

Kouten stumbles back. "What are you…" he says, looking at them.

"I am a human with a lantern tail and some skills." The person answers.

"…You don't sound human… you're reading my past like… it's nothing…"

The person giggles as they did some parkour-up metal balconies. Landing on the opposite building of where Retribution and Archangel were. The person stares down at Kouten. "Oh, I suggest leaving before the police come, villain." They say as they run on the rooftops away.

Kouten hears sirens and quickly gets up to his siblings. He looks to Archangel. "Better act that you came here." He says as he and Retribution leave the scene.

Retribution looks at Kouten "what were you and the person talking about?" She asks.

"…they were able to read my past. Also, know I was a hero once." He answers, looking away.

"Are we going to run into them more often?"

"For all of us? Rarely. For just me? Probably…"

"What do you mean?"

"They seemed interested in me when they warned me to leave quickly before the police get there."

"So they might be following you after tonight?"

"Possibly. No one else told any villains before to leave the scene. They did. Either they're interested in me, they don't have a side, or they have a villainous family."

"Speaking of sides…did you find out if they're an ally? Or an enemy?"

"They answered that they're a person of morals."

Retribution stops flying and lands. "So…hero?" she asks.

Kouten stops running and shakes his head. "Some villains have morals too. I think they're…neutral…" he answers.

"I'll trust your choice. For now, I found some minor heroes." Says Retribution smirking, Kouten smirks with her

"about. Fuckin. Time."

~Next morning ~

Kouten, Zen, and Hato came home at 3 am and passed the fuck out. That is until...

Haruki bursts into Kouten's room at 6:30 am. "WAKKKKEEE UPPPP BREAKFAST TIME BROTHA!" he shouts, jumping on Kouten.

"OWWWW!!!!" Shouts kouten, looking at his adorable brother.

"Haruki! Go wake up, Sai!" says Kouten. Haruki Innocently smiles.

"but Sai told me to wake up you, Z, and Hato!"

". . .SAIIII! SCREW YOU!"

Sai walks past Kouten's room door. "Told you not to stay up too late." He says, entering Hato's room.

"hato. Wake up. Hei can't wake Zen up." He says, shaking Hato.

Hato groans and grabs his phone, and plays an American song called "Worth it" by Fifth harmony.

Sai raises an eyebrow in confusion and then hears shouting from Zen's room-

"GIVE IT TO MEH I'M WORTH IT. BABY, I'M WORTH IT! UH-HUH, I'M WORTH IT. GIMMIE, GIMMIE I'M WORTH IT!"

Sai blinks at the shouting then looks to Hato, who is currently half asleep.

"How in the world-"

"Don't question it." Says Hato going into his mini-fridge. Pulling out two pinkie mice and placing them in his snake's tank.

"You just have frozen mice in your mini-fridge?"

"The snake gotta eat something, or it's eating Z. Toasted chicken."

Zen leans in "wait. You would feed me to your snake?" she asks.

"If I run out of mice, yes. Either you, Kou or Satori. Peace and quiet then."

Zen gasps, "DAMN YOU! YOU TRAITOR!" She shouts. Hato gives her a look.

"you said yourself when you had scorpions, if you didn't have any food, you'll poison one of us. Guess who then squashed them..his name starts with a D."

Zen looks down "hey, Kouten, and you shouldn't have snitched!" She says. Sai looks at Zen.

"YOU HAD PET SCORPIONS!?" he shouts. Zen looks at him.

"Currently, I have two female long-tailed chinchillas, both babies. One's name is Lechuza. She is more mischievous. The other, Adelita, is quieter and shyer."

Hato gets an idea and smirks. "Chinchillas?" he asks. Zen panics and runs to her room screaming, "DON'T TOUCH MY BABIES!!"

Back with Kouten, who grabbing food for Haruki and gets ready for his day. Brushing his untamed hair, he looks out the bathroom where Sai is dragging Hato and somehow Zen to the kitchen.

"Hey, did the moving truck bring my bike here yet?" Asks Kouten. Sai looks over to Kouten. "Should be in the garage. You got to get going?" asks Sai.

Kouten shows a message from his modeling agency "Yup. A new designer wants me to model. I won't be in the office today anyways." Explains Kouten. Sai nods, gently pushing the 23 yr old twin set in the kitchen.

"Alright, be safe. No killing either. Remember L is lobby! G is garage!" Says Sai as he gives Kouten a look. Going to Riku's and Satori's room to wake them up.

Kouten rolls his eyes and grabs his keys and helmet. "See ya, Kou!" says Haruki as Kouten smiles leaving the penthouse to the elevator, pressing G to head to the garage. After stopping a few floors where people enter the elevator recognizing him from his TV appearances and modeling. Some asking for autographs, others pictures, and some with questions like "Are you with someone?", "How is your life with the former number 2 hero, Hawks?" or something else entirely strange.

Kouten looks around. When his eyes land on a red and black bike.

"Ah, hello, baby. Good to see you have no scratches." He says, wiping it down. "No dust either…" he mumbles. Getting on the bike placing his helmet on, he gets moving.

~Later at a cafe~

Kouten removes his helmet and begins fixing his hair. "Ugh…stupid dad genes." Mumbles Kouten.

He enters the cozy café in front of him. He was in the center of the city, a lively place where many shops were around. Upon entering, he got a text from his manager saying he's running late. Kouten sighs and thinks about getting a coffee.

Looking at the menu, he waits in line. Once it was his turn, he ordered a coffee and waited at the end of the counter. After waiting a few minutes, the barista seeming bored and pushed two drinks, not even saying the names.

Kouten rolls his eyes fine bitch, so I won't fight you mainly for plot convince thinks Kouten and goes to grab one when he touched another's. Startled, he quickly retracted his hand and looks at the person next to him.

"I am sorry-"Kouten cuts himself off. Staring at what he believes is male. The man had semi-tanned skin and lavender eyes. Along with that, he had a yellow crescent moon shape with two navy stars shapes near the moon on his left cheek. What Kouten noticed was the ginger hair with black dyed ends. Then the lantern tail, Remembering from the person last night.

Kouten was breathless. He looks away, grabbing the other drink. A faint blush on his cheeks. "Sorry…I didn't know you also ordered coffee." Says Kouten.

"I didn't…I ordered hot tea…" says the male. Kouten looks at the cup he's currently holding and noticing the characters "Ei" (Crystal) and "ta" (gentle can be mean big/blessed. I prefer Gentle/blessed) and the characters spelling out Inoue. Kouten becomes embarrassed "here. This is yours then." He says, handing the cup to the male, Inoue Eita.

Eita blushes and takes the cup. He then pushes the 1st cup to Kouten. Quickly leaving to meet a black-haired purple-eyed male. Kouten watches as the two walk-offs from the café. After the duo wasn't in view, Kouten sits down and thinks I should've invited him to chat with me. He thinks.

Meanwhile, with Eita, the male next to Eita, smiling, looks to him. "So you met a celebrity?" he asks.

"He was a celebrity?" Asks Eita glancing at the man.

The male sweatdrops, "You, sir, are going to get killed one day." He says.

"I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill me, Hotaru..."

The male, Hotaru, smiles more "It's Hiroshi in the daytime. Plus, you're useful to me. I got to have a proper fortune to see if I can get away with murder."

Eita looks down and looks to his tail, glowing faintly …Did he not see who I am? Or did he notice and not say? A chuckle escapes his throat Todoroki Kouten…you…interest me…He thinks. He looks to Hotaru as he chats up random people. Potential victims to kill, more lives needlessly killed.

Eita thinks about 3 months ahead of now, a circus with some old friends is coming to the city. Eita looks at the sky. It'll be nice to see them again…Thinks Eita with a smile.

Back with Kouten, he continues to wait for his manager. As another bright day is full of unexpected things begins in this world of new beginnings.

The barista, leaving for the day with her friend. The friend looks at her. "You are literally planning soft angst?" They say.

The barista snickers, "I might. Truthfully the readers get a slow burn romance/slice of life for this."

"So maybe. You are evil."

"Am not. I just wanna play around with a crack head family and hopefully play with people's emotions expecting two of the main characters to kiss."

"Fucker."

"oh, hush. The main couple wouldn't have met if I didn't help."

"Damn. Your right. Also, fuck you. Go update RTS and SFU."

"I WILL. Damn! When I feel like it."

"MAXI!"

"OH, FINE I

WILL DAMMIT."

Saisho/Sai belongs to @ulti-mal

Kouten belongs to @hairuko

Hato belongs to @juniperarts

Satori belongs to @fioresacros

Haruki belongs to @/_falyy on twitter

Riku & Hotaru to @diizaren

#siblings #dabihawks lovechild #sitcom #romance #first meeting #lantern #villian #foreshadowing #fourth wall break #choas #chinchilla #snake #idk how to tag this #sorry about that #bnha fanfiction #family

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teasoflyy-blog · 5 years

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Scat personals jõgeva and scat hookup Bolzano

#scat woman City Center #scat dating Queanbeyan #scat woman Carrollton

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maevefiction · 6 years

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Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 40

We wound up staying at Diana’s until Sunday, then headed home to the chaos that awaited us. My gift for Tom had been well received, the shades of red he’d turned much like watching a tomato ripening in a time lapse video. We decide to wait until he was done filming to have our playtime, hoping things would be a smidge less stressful and that we’d actually have plenty of time to just fuck around. Literally, as the case happened to be. He’d given me a leather lingerie set, complete with crotch-less panties and a corset that I knew would turn my boobs into a squishy shelf…but the best part was the policeman-style cap, which I’d been wearing around the house to torment him.

Monday was spent in the office with Trudy, testing and testing and testing again, over and over, until any bugs we’d found were worked out. As far as we could discern, we were ready to roll. After the security company was done installing everything on Tuesday, it was time to go live with the group of 50 we’d chosen as beta testers. Luke, who’d left at noon with Simon to take care of the final wedding prep tasks, texted me more than two dozen times to express his amazement as he delved into Manageall’s features before, I assumed, Simon took his phone away from him. Radio silence ensued until midnight, when Simon came knocking at the door in a full blown panic because he wasn’t certain his shoes were the same shade of white as his suit. It took me more than an hour to convince him that they were, in fact, the same, and he wrapped me in a grateful embrace and finally left me to get some rest, Tom already in bed and snoring.

The office was officially closed for the next five days, so on Wednesday, when I wasn’t practicing singing, I pretended to not be working while I was actually working until it was time for the quiet dinner we’d planned at Luke and Simon’s. It was just the four of us, plus Roland, who was an absolute delight. We bonded over movies, music and tech and as we were leaving he gave me a tentative hug, blushing furiously afterward, Simon whispering in my ear shortly thereafter that it looked like SOMEONE had a quickly developed a wicked crush on me.

New Year’s Eve dawned crisp and clear, and Simon and I took a late-afternoon cab ride to Searcys so we could check in and make sure everything was exactly as it should be. We entered the Gherkin, and he grabbed my hand as we got into the elevator, his skin clammy.

“This is happening. It’s happening. I can’t believe it. It’s incredible. I’m so…happy. Also, I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”

I laughed. “You’ll be fine. Everything’s going to be fine. Fine.”

His eyes narrowed. “If that was your attempt at assuaging my nerves…LAME. SO LAME.”

“You think you’re the only one with nerves? I cannot, for the life of me, get the last part of the song right. Because I am not Nina Simone. My scatting SUCKS. SO HARD.”

He released my hand in order to poke me in the shoulder. “I AM GETTING MARRIED AND YOU ARE COMPARING YOUR NERVES WITH MINE?”

“Actually I’m trying to distract you, asshat. Not working, is it?”

“No. Do you have any booze?”

The elevator doors opened, and as we stepped into the room he burst into tears. The round tables were all in place, forming a ring around the room with the center reserved for dancing, with an open spot on the far side of the room where the DJ had begun setting up. They were covered in charcoal grey cloths that matched the gentlemen of the wedding party’s suits, peppered with silver stars, glossy black circular Lucite slabs resting atop them. The centerpieces were twelve silver cylinders arranged in a ring, each with two white roses wound together in them, symbolizing midnight and two becoming one. Which was, you know, a totally minor detail that everyone would be too drunk to care about, but Simon had been so pleased with himself at coming up with the idea I knew he’d be pointing it out all evening and it was my duty as his maid of honor to fill in when he was too sloshed to speak any longer. The chairs, eight per table, were glossy black as well, the napkins gleaming white, the clear glassware and silver flatware smooth and unmarked. Above us was a net of white fairy lights that formed an artificial ceiling several feet below the pointed top of the room, and the floor was black stone, rectangular tiles shined to perfection, my reflection staring back at me when I glanced downward.

“Maude, Maude, it’s…it’s…I just…” He fanned his face with both hands. “Crying is bad. So bad. I can’t start off the evening looking like a puffy, splotchy nightmare.” Several deep, cleansing breaths later he was back in control, walking the room in search of imperfections. The sun had nearly set, and as we looked out the windows the city lights began to come on in quick succession, and the skyline was even more beautiful that it was during the daylight hours. As we drew closer to the DJ, the staff erected a rectangular table that would hold the cake and champagne fountain, the spot directly in front of it marked with an 18” silver star, indicating where the vow exchange was to take place. A voice sounded from behind us.

“A bit early, aren’t you, Simon?”

Turning around, I was stunned by the familiarity of the face in front of me. Her hair was dirty blonde, down past her shoulders, eyes a warm brown, smile welcoming and friendly. Dressed in loose black slacks and a black turtleneck paired with sensible black flats, I was tickled by the silver star-shaped earrings and chain belt she’s chosen to match the theme of the event. Around her neck was a black leather camera strap, the Nikon D5 it connected to in her right hand. Simon squeaked, then gave her a gentle hug, introducing us after pulling away.

“Maude Gallagher, meet Willa Morgan, high-end fashion photographer whom I suckered into shooting a wedding and now owe a huge favor that I will likely never be able to repay. Willa, meet Maude, Social Media Director for Prosper PR and my bestest friend whom I suckered into being my maid of honor which I’m sure she regrets and will hold against me for-ev-er.”

We both laughed, and I extended my left hand, which she shook firmly.

“Lovely to meet you, Maude.”

“Lovely to meet you as well, Willa.”

Her smile faded as she released me, replaced with a look of intense concentration. “Would you two mind standing on the star there so I can gauge some angles?”

We obliged, goofing around and pretending to make out while the poor woman attempted to do her job, eventually giving up on us, shaking her head as she laughed and set about acquiring shots of the rest of the set-up. I whispered in Simon’s ear as we moved to make room for the fountain assembly dolly.

“Um, is it just me or does Willa look EXACTLY like Brie Larson?”

He stared at her in the distance, then turned to me, eyes wide. “You know, I never thought about it before, but she really DOES. I wonder if I have a Doppelganger.” His nose crinkled as if he’d caught whiff of something vile. “Nah, there can’t be anyone out there as pretty as I am.”

It was going on six when we departed, waiting until every little thing was in place, right down to the wedding favors, which were silver mesh bags containing black and white M&Ms with Luke and Simon’s faces on them. I would never forget the day we texted about it, both of us rendered unable to correspond for at least ten minutes after Simon suggested having a special batch made up with dick pics on them for any guests who annoyed him.

Upon my return to our building I was thrown without pause into the chaos that surrounds any wedding party preparing for the celebration. I would be joined at Simon’s side by Roland and Phaedra, who was thrilled that she was so loved that she’d been included as a friend and wasn’t stuck sitting out as the mother of the groom. Luke had Tom, as well as Emma and Darren, his best mate from university. I hadn’t realized how close he and Emma were, but she and Tom had both followed him over to his own firm for personal reasons as well as professional ones. Emma and Phaedra’s dresses, both still hanging on the rack in the hall, were dove grey, with a halter-like top, almost a V-neck with the sleeves removed, leaving only a ribbon of fabric over each clavicle and connecting with the bodice, shoulders fully exposed. They were, in a way, the reverse of my dress. The waist was high, an under-slip of satin topped with translucent silky fabric flowing to ankle length. When I entered our flat my female cohorts were standing in the middle of the living room, clad in white terry-cloth robes, waiting for the make-up and hair team to ready their materials. Emma ran to embrace me.

“Maude! Hi hi hi! It’s been a bit, how are you? So great to see you!”

I squeezed her back, letting go and pulling away when one of the make-us-beautiful people thrust another white robe in my direction. “I’m good, how’s everything with you?”

Her nose scrunched, and she bit her bottom lip briefly. “Well, I’m starting to stress, if I’m honest. The benefit is seventeen days out and I’m still waiting on confirmation from people as to what songs…”

I interrupted her. “Aaaannndd I’m one of those people. Shit. Sorry. Gonna speak for Simon too, because he’ll never remember to tell you. I’m doing ‘Before I’m Dead’ by the Kidney Thieves, Simon’s doing Nirvana’s ‘Heart Shaped Box’ and together we’re attempting ‘Crystalized’ by the xx. Here, I’ll text you that right now. Do you need the durations? I can send you the files too if you want.”

She brushed the side of her hand across her forehead. “Phew. Thanks, that’s one down. Please, do send the files if you have them. I’ll check the length myself. And thank you for being willing to do it…I feel so blessed to be surrounded by such generous people. Ohhh…by the way, I’ve seen the app and it is INCREDIBLE. Can’t wait to use it...” She sighed as one of the hairdressers called her name, then smiled. “Oh well. We’ll get to chat in the car on the way, I’m sure.”

A snort escaped me as I typed out a message for her. “Like Simon’s going to let any of us get a word in edgewise.”

We both laughed, and Phaedra looked up from her own phone, waving as I headed to the bathroom to undress. Once my robe was safely secured over my nakedness, I opened the door to find one Thomas William Hiddleston standing five feet away, already dressed for the evening in his charcoal grey suit, white shirt, silver tie, cummerbund and pocket square. He smiled, and I first melted at the sheer beauty of him, then had a mild panic attack when I realized that the six months until I’d see him dressed for our wedding seemed both like a second and an eternity all at once.

He waved. “Hi.”

I waved back. “Hi. You look like…like…like you should come on over here and kiss me.”

His head shook from side to side, slowly. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Is it?”

He nodded. “Yes. Because I know what’s under that robe. And if I get any closer…”

Raising my hands up near my ears carefully, I began to move backwards into the bathroom. “Right. Okay. Yep. But you know the dress is kinda…worse…”

He saluted, body tensing visibly. “Well I’m off then. Love you.”

“Love you too. One word. Pasties.”

His response was but a muffled groan as he strode quickly into the hall. I was whisked away to a director’s chair, where Marcus sung the praises of my hair and tamed it enough so it could be left down and loose. Emma’s had been pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck, Phaedra’s braided and wound around her head, creating a band of sorts. They were both in the middle of a pre-makeup facial, which I had no interest in receiving but quickly discovered wasn’t optional. After I was deemed clean, fresh and acceptable, foundation was applied, then silver crème and smoky grey shadow, black winged liner, and black mascara. My lips took the longest, first lined with a deep, dark red, then carefully painted blood red, and finally coated with a several layers of silver glitter gloss. I stood and stretched, arms straight up over my head, sighing softly as I lowered them back to my sides. An older woman approached me, black hair, rail thin, dressed in pink yoga pants and a black and white fitted T-shirt with a giant Hello Kitty on the front. There was a large brown satchel over her shoulder, and a garment bag slung over her outstretched arm. She smiled beatifically.

“Hello, Maude. I’m Gillian. Ready for your dress?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Thank you. Where would you like me?”

Her steel-blue eyes narrowed for a moment. “Well, we’ll need a private space, unless you don’t mind…”

My left hand shot up to shoulder height, palm toward her. “I’ve managed to make it this far without anyone in the room seeing my boobs…let’s keep the streak alive and head up to the master bedroom, if that works for you.”

She nodded, and I led the way, allowing her to enter the space first, then followed, closing the door behind us.

“Lovely flat you have here, Maude.” She placed the garment bag on the bed, ever so gently, and the utter weirdness of having a stranger in a place where so much intimacy happened made me cringe. Just a little, but still…a cringe. Gillian set her satchel on the chair and began rummaging through it, pulling out a small package and a bottle of what I knew had to be body glue. She looked around, pointing toward the bathroom.

“Probably best if we apply the pasties in there…oh, I almost forgot…” Her hand delved back into her bag, neon pink nails seeming to flash as she moved. “Ah, here they are. I have panty options for you as well, in case you need them.”

“Thank you, Gillian. I think I do need them…all my stuff is either dark or patterned.”

She walked into the bathroom, hot-pink Mary Janes clicking on the floor, and I followed. She spread everything out on the countertop…first came the half dozen pasties, all different shades, but all circular with a silver star that matched the dress perfectly in the center. Next to them she plopped a pile of fabric, the details as yet indiscernible, but there was a variation of tone there as well.

Her hands clapped together. “All right then…set your robe aside and we’ll get to work, if you please.”

I undid the tie, let the front hang open, then pulled my arms back through the sleeves and let it fall to the floor. She looked me up and down.

“Oh good, I believe I’ve gotten your sizing just right. And, you wax. Thank the lord for small favors.” I could feel my right brow rise against my will. She laughed. “No shade intended, but gals who prefer the au naturel look make it a bit harder for me to conceal the works without them wearing boxer briefs. With the style dress you have, it has a tendency to ruin the illusion, if you know what I mean.”

“I understand completely.”

She sifted through the pile and held up something that could only be described as a high-waisted thong. I took a moment to consider whether or not I was okay with my ass cheeks hanging out, then quickly shook my head. Next was a simple brief, and I nodded.

“Excellent choice. They’re form fitting and will be rather snug, which should be just fine with your shape. I don’t see much chance of spill-over happening. Now, let’s see which tone matches your skin best.”

Once that decision was made, I put them on…and she wasn’t kidding about the snugness. They were, like, snug to the tenth power snug. But, just as she thought, the band sat right at my waist and thus, there was no muffin-top to be found. She walked around me, checking out the rear view, nodding as she circled back to my front.

“Perfect. They match so well it looks like you aren’t wearing a blessed thing.”

The pasties came next, in the same shade. I stayed behind when she left the room, figuring peeing before putting on the dress was better than going afterward, because with my luck I’d dip it in the bowl and this way I’d at least make it to Searcys in decent shape. Probably. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way back to the bedroom, I decided I most closely resembled an extra from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which started me singing the Time Warp under my breath. Gillian was cautiously removing my dress from its bag, and when she lifted her head to smirk at me I knew she’d heard me.

“Oh, that’s a classic, Maude. Well done. You should request it tonight.”

I chuckled. “That is an excellent idea. What’s a wedding without a good pelvic thrust session?”

We both laughed as I stepped into the dress, then slowly worked my arms into the sleeves. Gillian zipped me up, inhaling sharply as she walked round to my front.

“Gorgeous. My word. Futuristic, yet ethereal. Stunning.”

I walked over to the bedroom mirror to take a look, my reflection’s jaw dropping open. The transformative power of a bit of makeup and some fabric never ceased to amaze me.

“Wow, it really DOES look like I’m totally naked. Great job matching the tones, Gillian. Perfection.”

She’d begun gathering her things, stuffing them all unceremoniously back into the satchel. “Thank you kindly. Do you need help with your shoes?”

“Well…probably not…but if you have time…”

She nodded and retrieved them from their box on the dresser. They bore some resemblance to dance shoes, with a two and a half inch spike heel and thick sole in the rounded toe area, two half-inch straps across the top, thoroughly coated in large pieces of silver glitter that matched the stars on my dress perfectly. I remained standing with one hand on the bedpost to maintain my balance as she slipped them on and secured the straps.

“There you are, then. Take a few steps and make sure the straps aren’t too tight.”

I did, heels clicking on the floor, then turned back to her. “Just right. Danceable, even. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s get you downstairs….it’s just about nine and the car needs to be en route by ten after at the latest. New Year’s Eve traffic is hellish, I assure you.”

Phaedra and Emma were waiting in the living room, and they applauded as I descended, both unable to resist the urge to fondle the fabric when I reached them. Emma’s eyes widened when she realized that I didn’t have a full netting underneath, as most sane people would.

“Maude, my lord, those…are those…the stars on your…”

Nodding, I reached out and patted her on the shoulder. “My boobs. Yes. Pasties.” She blushed, and Phaedra sighed.

“Oh, how I miss having breasts that don’t point directly at the floor. Enjoy them, girls, while you still can. The day will come when you have to be cautious lest you light them on fire whilst preparing a meal.”

Emma’s blush deepened. “Phaedrea, oh my god. You’re horrid.”

I did my best to suppress my laughter, but to no avail, and Phaedra joined in. “I speak the truth, Emma. It’s your future. Best embrace it.”

We were interrupted by Simon shouting as he traipsed through the open door.

“LADIES. OUR CARRIAGE HAS ARRIVED. WE MUST LEAVE AT ONCE FOR THE BALL.”

He stood by the kitchen counter, waiting, and I shook my head, incredulous at how absolutely perfect he appeared. Like he’d sprung up from the pages of an elite fashion magazine, his blonde hair slicked back, white suit practically glowing, and when he smiled, I damn near lost my shit.

“Dude. Simon. Dude. Seriously. My god. You’re like an…you look like…like…like an ANGEL. I mean, I know you’re NOT because, reasons, but WOW.”

Four steps forward brought him to me, and he kissed both my cheeks, then took my hands as he leaned back to inspect my attire. “You’re looking rather heaven-sent yourself, Maudie. And thank you. I do look damn fine, don’t I?” He kissed Emma and Phaedra next, expressing his appreciation for their beauty as well, and then we were out the door and down the stairs. Since the ceremony wasn’t until midnight there was no way to hide Luke and Simon from each other, so we’d decided to all share a single stretch limousine. Tom’s expression as he watched me approach him stirred up a slew of emotions in me, running the gamut from mild embarrassment to blatant desire, his unwavering stare seeming to bore right through the little I was wearing. As I drew closer his eyes filled with tears, his jaw unclenching as he smiled and reached for my hand.

“You. Are. So. Beautiful.”

I took hold of him, leaning in to catch his scent as we neared the limo.

“Oh good god, you’re wearing that new cologne again. That little hint of sandalwood mixed with orange…how am I supposed to LIVE?” He chuckled. “And thank you. You’re beautiful too, babe.”

He kissed my cheek as he helped me climb inside. “It’s going to be a long, long night, isn’t it?”

I nodded as I slid over next to Phaedra to make room for him just as Simon cracked open the first bottle of champagne.

“Oh yeah. I hope you have your phone, because I need to capture all this insanity so I can show it to their kids twenty years from now. Preferably right after they give them a lecture about how partying is so very, very inappropriate and bad for them.”

***************************************

It was five after ten when we arrived at Searcys, and the elevator ride up was unusually quiet, Simon and Luke clinging to each other and nervously adjusting each other’s lapels and white rose boutonnieres. Phaedra, Emma and I wore wrist corsages comprised of black netting and two intertwined white roses secured with silver ribbon, for which I was grateful. Schlepping around flowers and trying to have a good time while keeping them looking decent sounded like a total drag. Tom and I held hands, loosely, purely for the purpose of maintaining a physical connection. My nerves were still ever present, despite the fact that I’d sung in front of groups larger than this in the past. To be fair, I’d been intoxicated for most of those shows, though. Tonight, I’d try to lose myself in tasty tidbits and pretend that it was just a friendly karaoke bar, not someone’s once-in-a-lifetime moment. The doors slid open, and there we were, walking into a space that was positively overflowing with love for two people who deserved every single drop of it.

We were whisked away for photos, Willa directing us around the room, deciding who would be in which shots, carefully selecting the perfect backdrops. Once she was through with us, the hors d'oeuvres

stopped circulating and it was time for the seven course sit-down meal to begin. The wedding party was seated closest to the windows on the left side of the room, set back a few feet from the others. It was odd, eating prior to a ceremony, a backwards wedding of sorts, but the food was ridiculously delicious and the company unparalled so time seemed to speed on by. A sorbet was served as a palate cleanser after the main course, and at quarter to midnight we rose from our spots and retreated back toward the entrance where the hair and makeup folks were waiting behind oriental-style screens. Luke and Simon had timed their vows to last for five minutes, so the refresh was brief, followed by us all taking our places for the walk across the dance floor to the silver star marker. Phaedra and Darren walked first, followed by Roland and Emma, then Tom and me. Once we were on the proper sides, the wedding march began, and I had to bite my lip really, really hard so I wouldn’t weep at the sight of Luke and Simon walking towards us, hand in hand, their love for each other so clearly visible in their eyes, their expressions so joyful it was almost painful. They took their places on the star, Willa shooting discreetly yet furiously the entire time, and the officiant began. I missed most of that, only tuning in fully when the vow exchange began. Luke went first, his hand shaking as his right reached out for Simon’s left. His voice was clear, deep, and strong.

“Simon, that day you turned up for an interview…I thought that was the best day of my life. But it wasn’t, actually, because every day since that day has been the best day of my life. You’ve reminded me that there’s so much more to life than striving toward the next slot in the chain of financial success, shown me that joy can be found in even the smallest and bleakest moments. And, you’ve improved my wardrobe in ways I never could have imagined.”

Everyone laughed, and Simon reached up to pat Luke’s cheek.

“Over and above all that, you’ve taught me how to love, and how to love unconditionally. You are the man I dreamt of but never thought I’d ever find. My lover, my friend. It’s my honor to have you as my husband, and to be yours. From this day forward, it’s us, together, always. I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Luke Windsor, do take thee, Simon Ahlberg, to be my lawful wedded husband. Will you accept this ring as a symbol of my commitment to you, to us?”

Simon’s voice broke as he answered. “Yes. I, Simon Ahlberg, take thee, Luke Windsor to be my wedded husband.” Luke slipped the platinum band onto his ring finger, then released him. Simon’s right hand reached out to take Luke’s left, and one incredibly deep breath later he began to speak.

“Luke. That day, when I walked into your office, I was on a mission. A mission to fundamentally change the way I was living. I was burnt out, used up, and in search of something new, something different, something that would inspire me, something that would make me wake up every morning excited and full of wonder. I thought that something would be an occupation, because that’s what filled my life before, but it turned out to be…you. Especially the waking up excited part.” Snickers and guffaws rose up around the room. “It was YOU. And I am the luckiest man, not only on Earth, but in the vastness of the universe, because I have you. Because you love me. ME! It’s ridiculously cliché, but Luke, you make me want to be a better man…and it’s my honor and privilege to share your life from this day forward as your husband. I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Simon Ahlberg, do take thee, Luke Windsor, to be my lawful wedded husband. Will you accept this ring as a symbol of my commitment to you, to us?”

Both of their faces were damp with tears, and Luke swallowed hard twice before he responded. “Yes. Yes, yes, YES. I, Luke Windsor, take thee, Simon Ahlberg to be my wedded husband.”

Simon gently slid the platinum band, a twin of the one he now wore, onto Luke’s ring finger, then reached out to grasp Luke’s right hand with his left. The DJ began the ten second countdown to midnight, and the officiant spoke.

“Let it be known that these two men before me, and before all persons present, have, through their vows, declared themselves bound in matrimony. Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you…the Windsor-Ahlbergs!”

With that the clock struck midnight, Simon and Luke kissed, and congratulatory cheers mixed with shouts of ‘Happy New Year’ rang out. Tom was in front of me before the DJ could even begin to play Auld Lang Syne, his hands on the sides of my face as he bent so we were eye to eye.

“This is it. 2016. Soon enough, we’ll be saying our own vows, exchanging rings and I…I…I’m so in love with you, Maude. Happy New Year.”

His lips met mine, his hands wound around my waist, and mine around his, as we swayed to the music and I realized that I’d honestly never fully comprehended what it was supposed to mean, that New Year’s midnight kiss. Because any I’d ever received before hadn’t meant anything to me when compared to the way I felt right then, in that moment. We broke the kiss as the song ended, and the DJ’s voice boomed loudly through the sound system’s speakers.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR PEOPLE!” A round of cheering broke out again, and the DJ laughed. “All right, all right, you’re excited. Before we party, two things to take care of…the cutting of the cake by our happy couple, and…their first dance. We’re going to do the dance first, because you know someone’s going to get cake smeared all over them and that’s not a good look for the photo album, now is it? Luke and Simon have chosen ‘Feeling Good’ as their wedding song, and it will be performed by none other than maid-of-honor MAUDE GALLAGHER. Give the lady a hand!”

The applause was ridiculously loud, and I looked up at Tom, shouting over the din. “Happy New Year, you beautiful man. I love you. I’m probably going to die of embarrassment when I get to the scatting part, but…I love you.”

He kissed my forehead as he released me. “You’ll be amazing. Go. Do it. I’ll be right here, falling for you all over again.”

My head tilted to the left, mouth open, eyes narrowed. “Dude. I can’t even with you.” I planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” And then, a microphone magically appeared in my hand, and there I was, standing on that silver star, with Luke and Simon staring at me from the center of the dance floor. And so I dove into the first verse acapella, the way Nina Simone had done it all those years ago.

Birds flyin' high, you know how I feel Sun in the sky, you know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me. Yeah, it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me, ooooooooh... And I'm feelin' good. Fish in the sea, you know how I feel River runnin' free, you know how I feel Blossom on the tree, you know how I feel It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me, And I'm feelin' good Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, don't you know, Butterflies all havin' fun, you know what I mean. Sleep in peace when day is done: that's what I mean, And this old world is a new world and a bold world for me... Stars when you shine, you know how I feel Scent of the pine, you know how I feel Yeah, freedom is mine, and I know how I feel.. It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me And I'm feelin'... good.

The scatting was actually decent, and I knew that what I’d just completed was a personal best for me as far as performances went, and would probably turn out to be the best performance of my life. And it had little to do with me, at all. It was because of the two people running toward me, embracing me, and the love they had for each other that had set them free. And I knew how that felt, and that’s what poured up out of my soul, what powered my voice as I sang those words. Tom joined the group hug, then pulled me away from Simon and Luke.

“My god, that was incredible. You…I just…wow. Wow. Speechless.”

I grinned and pinched his cheek. “Oh, speechless. The best compliment Tom Hiddleston can possibly pay.”

He laughed, and the DJ announced that the time had come for cake chaos. Simon went first, and I was stunned when he held the piece steady and allowed Luke to take a dainty, mess-free bite. Luke’s full on face-smooshing smear fest when it was his turn was equally surprising…and insanely adorable, especially when he tried to help wipe it off and Simon kissed him instead. I turned to Tom.

“Two things. One, if you try to do that to me I’m going to bite your hand off and two, this is all so precious and perfect that I may soon vomit. Will cake help, do you think?”

He nodded. “Cake always helps. And then, dancing?”

“Yes. Cake. Dancing. More cake. More dancing. Repeat as necessary until the paramedics show up to treat either my sugar overdose or painful bodily injury.”

And that’s exactly what we did, until 4 AM rolled around and we staggered to the elevator, then out to the waiting car. Simon and Luke had taken their own to a nearby hotel, where they’d stay until late afternoon tomorrow, when they’d be boarding a plane to enjoy their five day honeymoon in Greece. Phaedra had agreed to see Roland home, and shared a car with Emma and Darren as they were all headed in the same direction, which left Tom and I to our own devices. He wasn’t blotto drunk, but drunk enough to be a terror as far as propriety was concerned, fingers running up and down the V front of my dress, caressing my exposed skin, hand slipping under the fabric to cup my right breast, letting out a frustrated groan because my nipple was hidden beneath the pastie. There was no privacy screen, and I gave up caring that the driver might see, or that he might crash while staring at our antics, instead pulling Tom into a kiss, his mouth tasting of whiskey and ale. Making out was enough of a distraction to get us home without actually exposing ourselves, and when we arrived he ran up the stairs to our flat, taking them two at a time, waited for me for ten seconds, then ran back down, then back up, over and over until I managed to successfully navigate my way to the landing in my stupid heels. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t get the key in the door, so I took over, and he pushed me inside as it opened, turned me left into the kitchen, then pressed me up against the counter overlooking the living room. I felt his hands lifting my dress, then on my lower back as he guided me to lean forward. Next were his thumbs inside the waistband of my underwear, rolling them down to my ankles. I heard him unzip, and I moved my legs as far apart as they could go, groaning as the head of him brushed against me before he thrust himself forward and home. It was quick and dirty, his hips rolling as his cock worked its way in and out, faster and faster until I came with a gasp and he followed, whimpering softly, then collapsing on top of me. Several minutes passed and just as I began to entertain the thought that he was out cold he whispered in my ear, voice lacking its usual resonance.

“I’m so sleepy. Will you tuck me in?”

“Yep. You’ve gotta get off me first, though.”

“Ohhhh. That’s right. I’m sorry.” I felt his weight lifting, then disappearing completely. I turned around to find him staring at me, eyes moist. “You’re beautiful.”

I snorted, then bent to remove my shoes so I could slip out of my underwear. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He turned me around slowly, unzipped my dress, then slid it off my shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor. I rotated to face him, and he pulled me into an embrace and nuzzled my neck.

“Wife.”

“Soon.”

“Since I saw you.”

I inhaled sharply. “Thomas.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Let’s go upstairs, okay?”

“M’kay.”

I made him go first, just in case. Not that I’d have been able to catch him if anything happened, but it made me feel better. I helped him undress, then tucked him in, as requested, kissing him goodnight before I headed off to shower. The pasties came off rather quickly, the makeup, not so much. Especially the glitter gloss, which made me grateful I didn’t have to deal with such shit on a daily basis. I toweled off, used the toilet one last time, then crawled in next to Tom. He rolled over, muttering something I couldn’t quite decipher as he wrapped his arm around me, hand cupping my breast. My eyes closed as his warmth enveloped me, and I dozed off trying to count how many days remained until June 29th.

****************************************

We spent the weekend recovering, just the two of us, heading out for food periodically but otherwise just enjoying…being. Time felt like the enemy, and even though I tried to ignore it, my brain kept counting of the days we had left before his flight to Australia. Monday I was back in the office, working on marketing materials for the app and testing the customer management systems with Trudy. The rest of the staff picked up any slack left by Luke and Simon’s absence, their duties relatively minimal as our client base had been made aware of the wedding and honeymoon schedule well in advance. Tuesday and Wednesday were more of the same, with the additional tasks of contacting all the beta testers to request their reviews and creating an instructional video to post on the main website. Thursday was freak-out day, as it was my last official day of work prior to launch, and the last night I’d be sharing a bed with Tom for more than two weeks. Seventeen days, to be precise.

Dinner was delivery pizza, followed by ice cream sundaes for dessert. Afterward, I helped him pack, and the strangeness of assisting the person I had grown so used to and loved having so close to me prepare to be so far away melted my brain a little. We showered, then attempted to sleep, but spent most of the night making love or simply staring at each other, as if committing as much detail as we could to memory so we’d have it as a touchstone while we were apart.

Friday morning we were out the door and into a waiting cab by ten AM in order to arrive at Heathrow in plenty of time for his twelve forty-five PM flight. It would be a long one, twenty-five hours at minimum, during which I hoped he’d get some rest. Brisbane awaited, and there’d be staff housing as well as opportunities to visit the Hemsworths in Byron Bay. Jordan had chosen the Gold Coast to film, Queensland offering savannah-like settings as well as a tropical rainforest.

Both of us were silent on the ride, holding hands, his thumb rubbing my wrist. We’d agreed to say our goodbyes just inside the main entrance, with me then returning to the cab and heading home while he checked in and went through security. The cab driver helped unload his baggage, then drove off to circle around until our paths coincided again, at which point he’d pick me up.

I felt like I was going to puke at the sight of the gates, which made me wonder if this was going to become a ‘thing’…me stress-barfing at airports. Tom set the backpack he’d slung over his shoulder on the floor next to the rest of his luggage, then turned to me.

“Well. Guess this is it, then.” He ran one hand through is hair. “Not sure I can do this, Maude.”

I reached out to touch his arm, reveling in the feel of his long blue coat. “Yes you can. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. Seventeen days and you’ll be picking my ass up in Brisbane. No big deal.” His hand caressed my cheek, and I burst into tears. “Shit. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, and now I’m crying. Epic fail. I’m sorry.”

He pulled me into his arms, one hand on the back of my head pressing me to his chest. “Don’t you be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m the one who has to leave.”

I leaned backwards so I could see his face, noticing that he was trying to hold back his own tears but was losing the battle, one already spilling over and running down his cheek. “No, I am. I’m the one who has to STAY.”

We clung to each other, weeping quietly, until we both breathed deeply, knowing it was time to let go, whether we liked it or not. I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand. “All right. I need to get the fuck out of here before I wind up throwing myself on the floor and wrapping my arms around your leg like a ball and chain.”

He laughed, then bent to kiss me…long, slow, deliberate and full of everything we couldn’t say. He broke away first, taking my hands in his.

“I am going to miss you like I’ve never missed anything ever before in my life. But we’ll text, we’ll call, we’ll Skype, and I’ll be busy and you’ll be busy and the days will pass and you’ll be back in my arms again in the blink of an eye.”

I nodded and let go of his hands. “It’ll all be okay. I know. You know. It doesn’t make it suck any less, but it’ll be okay. Stay safe, Hiddleston. I love you. Heart and soul.”

He smiled, red-rimmed eyes displaying a glimmer of hope, and joy. “I love you too, Maude. Heart and soul. I’ll see you soon. Good luck with the launch, and the show.”

“Tell Kong I said hello. And, you know, everyone else, too.”

“I shall.”

With that, he gathered up his luggage, returned the backpack to his shoulder, then turned away from me and began to walk down the hall. I waited for a moment, staring at him, and he spun around quickly, waved, then turned back around and kept going, and I turned myself and half-jogged out to the curb, choking back seemingly endless sobs as I waited for the cab that would bring me back to our flat. Our flat, with just me in it. Alone.

#your light in the mist #chapter 40

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blackkudos · 6 years

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Louis Armstrong

Louis Armstrong (August 4, 1901 – July 6, 1971), nicknamed Satchmo, Satch, or Pops was an American trumpeter, composer, singer and occasional actor who was one of the most influential figures in jazz. His career spanned five decades, from the 1920s to the 1960s, and different eras in jazz. Coming to prominence in the 1920s as an "inventive" trumpet and cornet player, Armstrong was a foundational influence in jazz, shifting the focus of the music from collective improvisation to solo performance. With his instantly recognizable gravelly voice, Armstrong was also an influential singer, demonstrating great dexterity as an improviser, bending the lyrics and melody of a song for expressive purposes. He was also skilled at scat singing.

Renowned for his charismatic stage presence and voice almost as much as for his trumpet playing, Armstrong's influence extends well beyond jazz, and by the end of his career in the 1960s, he was widely regarded as a profound influence on popular music in general. Armstrong was one of the first truly popular African-American entertainers to "cross over", whose skin color was secondary to his music in an America that was extremely racially divided. He rarely publicly politicized his race, often to the dismay of fellow African Americans, but took a well-publicized stand for desegregation in the Little Rock crisis. His artistry and personality allowed him socially acceptable access to the upper echelons of American society which were highly restricted for black men of his era.

Early life

Armstrong often stated that he was born on July 4, 1900, a date that has been noted in many biographies. Although he died in 1971, it was not until the mid-1980s that his true birth date, August 4, 1901, was discovered by the researcher Tad Jones through the examination of baptismal records.

Armstrong was born into a poor family in New Orleans, Louisiana, and was the grandson of slaves. He spent his youth in poverty, in a rough neighborhood known as the Battlefield, which was part of the Storyville legal prostitution district. His father, William Armstrong (1881–1933), abandoned the family when Louis was an infant and took up with another woman. His mother, Mary "Mayann" Albert (1886–1927), then left Louis and his younger sister, Beatrice Armstrong Collins (1903–1987), in the care of his grandmother, Josephine Armstrong, and at times his uncle Isaac. At five, he moved back to live with his mother, her relatives and a parade of "stepfathers".

He attended the Fisk School for Boys, where he most likely had early exposure to music. He brought in some money by selling newspapers, delivering coal, singing on the streets at night, and also by finding discarded food and selling it to restaurants, but it was not enough to keep his mother from prostitution. He hung out in dance halls close to home, where he observed everything from licentious dancing to the quadrille. For extra money he also hauled coal to Storyville, and listened to the bands playing in the brothels and dance halls, especially Pete Lala's, where Joe "King" Oliver performed as well as other famous musicians who would drop in to jam.

After dropping out of the Fisk School at age eleven, Armstrong joined a quartet of boys who sang in the streets for money. He also started to get into trouble. Cornet player Bunk Johnson said he taught Armstrong (then 11) to play by ear at Dago Tony's Tonk in New Orleans, although in his later years Armstrong gave the credit to Oliver. Armstrong hardly looked back at his youth as the worst of times but drew inspiration from it instead: "Every time I close my eyes blowing that trumpet of mine—I look right in the heart of good old New Orleans... It has given me something to live for."

He also worked for a Lithuanian-Jewish immigrant family, the Karnofskys, who had a junk-hauling business and gave him odd jobs. They took him in and treated him like family; knowing he lived without a father, they fed and nurtured him. He later wrote a memoir of his relationship with the Karnofskys, Louis Armstrong + the Jewish Family in New Orleans, La., the Year of 1907. In it he described his discovery that this family was also subject to discrimination by "other white folks" who felt that they were better than Jews: "I was only seven years old but I could easily see the ungodly treatment that the White Folks were handing the poor Jewish family whom I worked for." Armstrong wore a Star of David pendant for the rest of his life and wrote about what he learned from them: "how to live—real life and determination." The influence of Karnofsky is remembered in New Orleans by the Karnofsky Project, a nonprofit organization dedicated to accepting donated musical instruments to "put them into the hands of an eager child who could not otherwise take part in a wonderful learning experience."

Armstrong developed his cornet playing skills by playing in the band of the New Orleans Home for Colored Waifs, where he had been sent multiple times for general delinquency, most notably for firing his stepfather's pistol into the air at a New Year's Eve celebration (it was only an empty shot, as police records confirm). Professor Peter Davis (who frequently appeared at the home at the request of its administrator, Captain Joseph Jones) instilled discipline in and provided musical training to the otherwise self-taught Armstrong. Eventually, Davis made Armstrong the band leader. The home band played around New Orleans and the thirteen-year-old Louis began to draw attention by his cornet playing, starting him on a musical career. At fourteen he was released from the home, living again with his father and new stepmother, Gertrude, and then back with his mother and thus back to the streets and their temptations. Armstrong got his first dance hall job at Henry Ponce's, where Black Benny became his protector and guide. He hauled coal by day and played his cornet at night.

He played in the city's frequent brass band parades and listened to older musicians every chance he got, learning from Bunk Johnson, Buddy Petit, Kid Ory, and above all, Joe "King" Oliver, who acted as a mentor and father figure to the young musician. Later, he played in brass bands and riverboats of New Orleans, and began traveling with the well-regarded band of Fate Marable, which toured on a steamboat up and down the Mississippi River. He described his time with Marable as "going to the University," since it gave him a much wider experience working with written arrangements.

In 1919, Joe Oliver decided to go north and resigned his position in Kid Ory's band; Armstrong replaced him. He also became second trumpet for the Tuxedo Brass Band.

Career

1920s

Throughout his riverboat experience, Armstrong's musicianship began to mature and expand. At twenty, he could read music and started to be featured in extended trumpet solos, one of the first jazz men to do this, injecting his own personality and style into his solo turns. He had learned how to create a unique sound and also started using singing and patter in his performances. In 1922, Armstrong joined the exodus to Chicago, where he had been invited by his mentor, Joe "King" Oliver, to join his Creole Jazz Band and where he could make a sufficient income so that he no longer needed to supplement his music with day labor jobs. It was a boom time in Chicago and though race relations were poor, the city was teeming with jobs available for black people, who were making good wages in factories and had plenty to spend on entertainment.

Oliver's band was among the most influential jazz bands in Chicago in the early 1920s, at a time when Chicago was the center of the jazz universe. Armstrong lived luxuriously in Chicago, in his own apartment with his own private bath (his first). Excited as he was to be in Chicago, he began his career-long pastime of writing nostalgic letters to friends in New Orleans. Unusually, Armstrong could blow two hundred high Cs in a row. As his reputation grew, he was challenged to instrumental "cutting contests" by hornmen trying to displace him. Armstrong made his first recordings on the Gennett and Okeh labels (jazz records were starting to boom across the country), including taking some solos and breaks, while playing second cornet in Oliver's band in 1923. At this time, he met Hoagy Carmichael (with whom he would collaborate later) who was introduced by friend Bix Beiderbecke, who now had his own Chicago band.

Armstrong enjoyed working with Oliver, but Louis' second wife, pianist Lil Hardin Armstrong, urged him to seek more prominent billing and develop his newer style away from the influence of Oliver. Lil had her husband play classical music in church concerts to broaden his skill and improve his solo play and she prodded him into wearing more stylish attire to make him look sharp and to better offset his growing girth. Lil's influence eventually undermined Armstrong's relationship with his mentor, especially concerning his salary and additional moneys that Oliver held back from Armstrong and other band members. Armstrong and Oliver parted amicably in 1924. Shortly afterward, Armstrong received an invitation to go to New York City to play with the Fletcher Henderson Orchestra, the top African-American band of the time. Armstrong switched to the trumpet to blend in better with the other musicians in his section. His influence upon Henderson's tenor sax soloist, Coleman Hawkins, can be judged by listening to the records made by the band during this period.

Armstrong quickly adapted to the more tightly controlled style of Henderson, playing trumpet and even experimenting with the trombone. The other members quickly took up Armstrong's emotional, expressive pulse. Soon his act included singing and telling tales of New Orleans characters, especially preachers. The Henderson Orchestra was playing in prominent venues for white-only patrons, including the famed Roseland Ballroom, featuring the arrangements of Don Redman. Duke Ellington's orchestra would go to Roseland to catch Armstrong's performances and young horn men around town tried in vain to outplay him, splitting their lips in their attempts.

During this time, Armstrong made many recordings on the side, arranged by an old friend from New Orleans, pianist Clarence Williams; these included small jazz band sides with the Williams Blue Five (some of the most memorable pairing Armstrong with one of Armstrong's few rivals in fiery technique and ideas, Sidney Bechet) and a series of accompaniments with blues singers, including Bessie Smith, Ma Rainey, and Alberta Hunter.

Armstrong returned to Chicago in 1925 due mostly to the urging of his wife, who wanted to pump up Armstrong's career and income. He was content in New York but later would concede that she was right and that the Henderson Orchestra was limiting his artistic growth. In publicity, much to his chagrin, she billed him as "the World's Greatest Trumpet Player". At first, he was actually a member of the Lil Hardin Armstrong Band and working for his wife. He began recording under his own name for Okeh with his famous Hot Five and Hot Seven groups, producing hits such as "Potato Head Blues", "Muggles" (a slang term for marijuana cigarettes: Armstrong used marijuana daily for much of his life), and "West End Blues", the music of which set the standard and the agenda for jazz for many years to come.

The group included Kid Ory (trombone), Johnny Dodds (clarinet), Johnny St. Cyr (banjo), wife Lil on piano, and usually no drummer. Armstrong's band leading style was easygoing, as St. Cyr noted, "One felt so relaxed working with him, and he was very broad-minded ... always did his best to feature each individual." Among the most notable of the Hot Five and Seven records were "Cornet Chop Suey," "Struttin' With Some Barbecue," "Hotter Than that" and "Potato Head Blues,", all featuring highly creative solos by Armstrong. His recordings soon after with pianist Earl "Fatha" Hines (most famously their 1928 "Weather Bird" duet) and Armstrong's trumpet introduction to and solo in "West End Blues" remain some of the most famous and influential improvisations in jazz history. Armstrong was now free to develop his personal style as he wished, which included a heavy dose of effervescent jive, such as "whip that thing, Miss Lil" and "Mr. Johnny Dodds, Aw, do that clarinet, boy!"

Armstrong also played with Erskine Tate's Little Symphony, which played mostly at the Vendome Theatre. They furnished music for silent movies and live shows, including jazz versions of classical music, such as "Madame Butterfly", which gave Armstrong experience with longer forms of music and with hosting before a large audience. He began to scat sing (improvised vocal jazz using nonsensical words) and was among the first to record it, on the Hot Five recording "Heebie Jeebies" in 1926. The recording was so popular that the group became the most famous jazz band in the United States, even though they had not performed live to any great extent. Young musicians across the country, black or white, were turned on by Armstrong's new type of jazz.

After separating from Lil, Armstrong started to play at the Sunset Café for Al Capone's associate Joe Glaser in the Carroll Dickerson Orchestra, with Earl Hines on piano, which was soon renamed Louis Armstrong and his Stompers, though Hines was the music director and Glaser managed the orchestra. Hines and Armstrong became fast friends and successful collaborators.

Armstrong returned to New York, in 1929, where he played in the pit orchestra of the successful musical Hot Chocolate, an all-black revue written by Andy Razaf and pianist/composer Fats Waller. He also made a cameo appearance as a vocalist, regularly stealing the show with his rendition of "Ain't Misbehavin'", his version of the song becoming his biggest selling record to date.

1930s

Armstrong started to work at Connie's Inn in Harlem, chief rival to the Cotton Club, a venue for elaborately staged floor shows, and a front for gangster Dutch Schultz. Armstrong also had considerable success with vocal recordings, including versions of famous songs composed by his old friend Hoagy Carmichael. His 1930s recordings took full advantage of the new RCA ribbon microphone, introduced in 1931, which imparted a characteristic warmth to vocals and immediately became an intrinsic part of the 'crooning' sound of artists like Bing Crosby. Armstrong's famous interpretation of Carmichael's "Stardust" became one of the most successful versions of this song ever recorded, showcasing Armstrong's unique vocal sound and style and his innovative approach to singing songs that had already become standards.

Armstrong's radical re-working of Sidney Arodin and Carmichael's "Lazy River" (recorded in 1931) encapsulated many features of his groundbreaking approach to melody and phrasing. The song begins with a brief trumpet solo, then the main melody is introduced by sobbing horns, memorably punctuated by Armstrong's growling interjections at the end of each bar: "Yeah! ..."Uh-huh" ..."Sure" ... "Way down, way down." In the first verse, he ignores the notated melody entirely and sings as if playing a trumpet solo, pitching most of the first line on a single note and using strongly syncopated phrasing. In the second stanza he breaks into an almost fully improvised melody, which then evolves into a classic passage of Armstrong "scat singing".

As with his trumpet playing, Armstrong's vocal innovations served as a foundation stone for the art of jazz vocal interpretation. The uniquely gravelly coloration of his voice became a musical archetype that was much imitated and endlessly impersonated. His scat singing style was enriched by his matchless experience as a trumpet soloist. His resonant, velvety lower-register tone and bubbling cadences on sides such as "Lazy River" exerted a huge influence on younger white singers such as Bing Crosby.

The Great Depression of the early 1930s was especially hard on the jazz scene. The Cotton Club closed in 1936 after a long downward spiral, and many musicians stopped playing altogether as club dates evaporated. Bix Beiderbecke died and Fletcher Henderson's band broke up. King Oliver made a few records but otherwise struggled. Sidney Bechet became a tailor, later moving to Paris and Kid Ory returned to New Orleans and raised chickens.

Armstrong moved to Los Angeles in 1930 to seek new opportunities. He played at the New Cotton Club in Los Angeles with Lionel Hampton on drums. The band drew the Hollywood crowd, which could still afford a lavish night life, while radio broadcasts from the club connected with younger audiences at home. Bing Crosby and many other celebrities were regulars at the club. In 1931, Armstrong appeared in his first movie, Ex-Flame and was also convicted of marijuana possession but received a suspended sentence. He returned to Chicago in late 1931 and played in bands more in the Guy Lombardo vein and he recorded more standards. When the mob insisted that he get out of town, Armstrong visited New Orleans, had a hero's welcome and saw old friends. He sponsored a local baseball team known as "Armstrong's Secret Nine" and had a cigar named after him. But soon he was on the road again and after a tour across the country shadowed by the mob, Armstrong decided to go to Europe to escape.

After returning to the United States, he undertook several exhausting tours. His agent Johnny Collins's erratic behavior and his own spending ways left Armstrong short of cash. Breach of contract violations plagued him. Finally, he hired Joe Glaser as his new manager, a tough mob-connected wheeler-dealer, who began to straighten out his legal mess, his mob troubles, and his debts. Armstrong also began to experience problems with his fingers and lips, which were aggravated by his unorthodox playing style. As a result, he branched out, developing his vocal style and making his first theatrical appearances. He appeared in movies again, including Crosby's 1936 hit Pennies from Heaven. In 1937, Armstrong substituted for Rudy Vallee on the CBS radio network and became the first African American to host a sponsored, national broadcast.

1940s

After spending many years on the road, Armstrong settled permanently in Queens, New York in 1943 in contentment with his fourth wife, Lucille. Although subject to the vicissitudes of Tin Pan Alley and the gangster-ridden music business, as well as anti-black prejudice, he continued to develop his playing. He recorded Hoagy Carmichael's Rockin' Chair for Okeh Records.

During the subsequent 30 years, Armstrong played more than 300 gigs a year. Bookings for big bands tapered off during the 1940s due to changes in public tastes: ballrooms closed, and there was competition from television and from other types of music becoming more popular than big band music. It became impossible under such circumstances to support and finance a 16-piece touring band.

During the 1940s, a widespread revival of interest in the traditional jazz of the 1920s made it possible for Armstrong to consider a return to the small-group musical style of his youth. Following a highly successful small-group jazz concert at New York Town Hall on May 17, 1947, featuring Armstrong with trombonist/singer Jack Teagarden, Armstrong's manager, Joe Glaser dissolved the Armstrong big band on August 13, 1947, and established a six-piece traditional jazz group featuring Armstrong with (initially) Teagarden, Earl Hines and other top swing and Dixieland musicians, most of whom were previously leaders of big bands. The new group was announced at the opening of Billy Berg's Supper Club.

This group was called Louis Armstrong and His All Stars and included at various times Earl "Fatha" Hines, Barney Bigard, Edmond Hall, Jack Teagarden, Trummy Young, Arvell Shaw, Billy Kyle, Marty Napoleon, Big Sid Catlett, Cozy Cole, Tyree Glenn, Barrett Deems, Mort Herbert, Joe Darensbourg, Eddie Shu and the percussionist Danny Barcelona. During this period, Armstrong made many recordings and appeared in over thirty films. He was the first jazz musician to appear on the cover of Time magazine, on February 21, 1949. In 1948, he participated in the Nice Jazz Festival, where Suzy Delair sang "C'est si bon", by Henri Betti and André Hornez, for the first time in public.

1950s–1970s

June 26, 1950, Armstrong recorded the first American version of C'est si bon (Henri Betti, André Hornez, Jerry Seelen) and La Vie en rose (Louiguy, Édith Piaf, Mack David). When it was released, the disc garnered worldwide sales. In the 1960s, he toured Ghana and Nigeria, performing with Victor Olaiya during the Nigerian Civil war.

By the 1950s, Armstrong was a widely beloved American icon and cultural ambassador who commanded an international fanbase. However, a growing generation gap became apparent between him and the young jazz musicians who emerged in the postwar era such as Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, and Sonny Rollins. The postwar generation regarded their music as abstract art and considered Armstrong's vaudevillian style, half-musician and half-stage entertainer, outmoded and Uncle Tomism, ". . he seemed a link to minstrelsy that we were ashamed of." Jazz publications of the 1950s widely referred to Armstrong's presence among the already emerged contemporary players as they would a dinosaur, and he answered back in his own form of chosen polemic: refraining from a direct epicurean denigration, "Bebop is Chinese music." While touring Australia, 1954, he modified his anatomical references for the sake of the gentle ears of his host country, "Bebop?" he husked. "I just play music. Guys who invent terms like that are walking the streets with their instruments under their arms "

After finishing his contract with Decca Records, he became a freelance artist and recorded for different labels.

Armstrong continued an intense international touring schedule, but in 1959 he suffered a heart attack in Italy and had to rest for a time.

In 1964, after over two years without setting foot in a studio, he recorded his biggest-selling record, "Hello, Dolly!", a song by Jerry Herman, originally sung by Carol Channing. Armstrong's version remained on the Hot 100 for 22 weeks, longer than any other record produced that year, and went to No. 1 making him, at 62 years, 9 months and 5 days, the oldest person ever to accomplish that feat. In the process, he dislodged the Beatles from the No. 1 position they had occupied for 14 consecutive weeks with three different songs. Armstrong made his last recorded trumpet performances on his 1968 album Disney Songs the Satchmo Way.

Armstrong kept touring well into his 60s, even visiting part of the communist bloc in 1965. He also toured Africa, Europe, and Asia under the sponsorship of the US State Department with great success, earning the nickname "Ambassador Satch" and inspiring Dave Brubeck to compose his jazz musical The Real Ambassadors. By 1968, he was approaching 70 and his health finally began to give out. He suffered heart and kidney ailments that forced him to stop touring. Armstrong did not perform publicly at all in 1969 and spent most of the year recuperating at home. Meanwhile, his longtime manager Joe Glaser died. By the summer of 1970, Armstrong's doctors pronounced him fit enough to resume live performances. He embarked on another world tour, but a heart attack forced him to take a break for two months.

Personal life

Pronunciation of name

The Louis Armstrong House Museum website states:

Judging from home recorded tapes now in our Museum Collections, Louis pronounced his own name as "Lewis." On his 1964 record "Hello, Dolly," he sings, "This is Lewis, Dolly" but in 1933 he made a record called "Laughin' Louie." Many broadcast announcers, fans, and acquaintances called him "Louie" and in a videotaped interview from 1983 Lucille Armstrong calls her late husband "Louie" as well. Musicians and close friends usually called him "Pops."

In a memoir written for Robert Goffin between 1943 and 1944, Armstrong states, "All white folks call me Louie," suggesting that he himself did not. That said, Armstrong was registered as "Lewie" for the 1920 U.S. Census. On various live records he's called "Louie" on stage, such as on the 1952 "Can Anyone Explain?" from the live album In Scandinavia vol.1. "Lewie" is the French pronunciation of "Louis" and is commonly used in Louisiana.

Family

On March 19, 1918, at the age of 16, Louis married Daisy Parker, a prostitute from Gretna, Louisiana. They adopted a 3-year-old boy, Clarence Armstrong, whose mother, Louis' cousin Flora, died soon after giving birth. Clarence Armstrong was mentally disabled (the result of a head injury at an early age) and Louis would spend the rest of his life taking care of him. Louis' marriage to Parker failed quickly and they separated in 1923.

On February 4, 1924, Louis married Lil Hardin Armstrong, who was Oliver's pianist and had also divorced her first spouse only a few years earlier. His second wife was instrumental in developing his career, but in the late 1920s Hardin and Louis grew apart. They separated in 1931 and divorced in 1938, after which Louis married longtime girlfriend Alpha Smith. His marriage to his third wife lasted four years, and they divorced in 1942. Louis then married Lucille Wilson in October 1942, a singer at the Cotton Club, to whom he was married until his death in 1971.

Armstrong's marriages never produced any offspring, though he loved children. However, in December 2012, 57-year-old Sharon Preston-Folta claimed to be his daughter from a 1950s affair between Armstrong and Lucille "Sweets" Preston, a dancer at the Cotton Club. In a 1955 letter to his manager, Joe Glaser, Armstrong affirmed his belief that Preston's newborn baby was his daughter, and ordered Glaser to pay a monthly allowance of $400 to mother and child.

Personality

Armstrong was noted for his colorful and charismatic personality. His autobiography vexed some biographers and historians, as he had a habit of telling tales, particularly of his early childhood when he was less scrutinized, and his embellishments of his history often lack consistency.

In addition to an entertainer, Armstrong was a leading personality of the day. He was beloved by an American public that gave even the greatest African American performers little access beyond their public celebrity, and he was able to live a private life of access and privilege afforded to few other African Americans during that era.

He generally remained politically neutral, which at times alienated him from members of the black community who looked to him to use his prominence with white America to become more of an outspoken figure during the Civil Rights Movement of U.S. history. However, he did criticize President Eisenhower for not acting forcefully enough on civil rights.

Lip problems

The trumpet is a notoriously hard instrument on the lips, and Armstrong suffered from lip damage over much of his life due to his aggressive style of playing and preference for narrow mouthpieces that would stay in place easier, but which tended to dig into the soft flesh of his inner lip. During his 1930s European tour, he suffered an ulceration so severe that he had to stop playing entirely for a year. Eventually he took to using salves and creams on his lips and also cutting off scar tissue with a razor blade. By the 1950s, he was an official spokesman for Ansatz-Creme Lip Salve.

During a backstage meeting with trombonist Marshall Brown in 1959, Armstrong received the suggestion that he should go to a doctor and receive proper treatment for his lips instead of relying on home remedies, but he didn't get around to doing it until the final years of his life, by which point his health was failing and doctors considered surgery too risky.

Nicknames

The nicknames Satchmo and Satch are short for Satchelmouth. Like many things in Armstrong's life, which was filled with colorful stories both real and imagined, many of his own telling, the nickname has many possible origins.

The most common tale that biographers tell is the story of Armstrong as a young boy dancing for pennies in the streets of New Orleans, who would scoop up the coins off of the streets and stick them into his mouth to avoid having the bigger children steal them from him. Someone dubbed him "satchel mouth" for his mouth acting as a satchel. Another tale is that because of his large mouth, he was nicknamed "satchel mouth" which became shortened to Satchmo.

Early on he was also known as Dipper, short for Dippermouth, a reference to the piece Dippermouth Blues. and something of a riff on his unusual embouchure.

The nickname Pops came from Armstrong's own tendency to forget people's names and simply call them "pops" instead. The nickname was soon turned on Armstrong himself. It was used as the title of a 2010 biography of Armstrong by Terry Teachout.

Race

Armstrong was largely accepted into white society, both on stage and off, a privilege reserved for very few African-American public figures, and usually those of either exceptional talent or fair skin tone. As his fame grew, so did his access to the finer things in life usually denied to African-Americans, even famous ones. His renown was such that he dined in reputable restaurants and stayed in hotels usually exclusively for whites. It was a power and privilege that he enjoyed, although he was very careful not to flaunt it with fellow performers of color, and privately, he shared what access that he could with friends and fellow musicians.

That still did not prevent members of the African-American community, particularly in the late 1950s to the early 1970s, from calling him an Uncle Tom, a black-on-black racial epithet for someone who kowtowed to white society at the expense of their own racial identity. Billie Holiday countered, however, "Of course Pops toms, but he toms from the heart." He was criticized for accepting the title of "King of The Zulus" for Mardi Gras in 1949. In the New Orleans African-American community it is an honored role as the head of leading black Carnival Krewe, but bewildering or offensive to outsiders with their traditional costume of grass-skirts and blackface makeup satirizing southern white attitudes.

Some musicians criticized Armstrong for playing in front of segregated audiences, and for not taking a strong enough stand in the American Civil Rights Movement. The few exceptions made it more effective when he did speak out. Armstrong's criticism of President Eisenhower, calling him "two-faced" and "gutless" because of his inaction during the conflict over school desegregation in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1957 made national news. As a protest, Armstrong canceled a planned tour of the Soviet Union on behalf of the State Department saying: "The way they're treating my people in the South, the government can go to hell" and that he could not represent his government abroad when it was in conflict with its own people.

The FBI kept a file on Armstrong for his outspokenness about integration.

Religion

When asked about his religion, Armstrong would answer that he was raised a Baptist, always wore a Star of David, and was friends with the Pope. Armstrong wore the Star of David in honor of the Karnofsky family, who took him in as a child and lent him the money to buy his first cornet. Louis Armstrong was, in fact, baptized as a Catholic at the Sacred Heart of Jesus Church in New Orleans, and he met popes Pius XII and Paul VI, though there is no evidence that he considered himself Catholic. Armstrong seems to have been tolerant towards various religions, but also found humor in them.

Personal habits

Armstrong was concerned with his health. He used laxatives to control his weight, a practice he advocated both to acquaintances and in the diet plans he published under the title Lose Weight the Satchmo Way. Armstrong's laxative of preference in his younger days was Pluto Water, but he then became an enthusiastic convert when he discovered the herbal remedy Swiss Kriss. He would extol its virtues to anyone who would listen and pass out packets to everyone he encountered, including members of the British Royal Family. (Armstrong also appeared in humorous, albeit risqué, cards that he had printed to send out to friends; the cards bore a picture of him sitting on a toilet—as viewed through a keyhole—with the slogan "Satch says, 'Leave it all behind ya!'") The cards have sometimes been incorrectly described as ads for Swiss Kriss. In a live recording of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" with Velma Middleton, he changes the lyric from "Put another record on while I pour" to "Take some Swiss Kriss while I pour."

Armstrong was a heavy marijuana smoker for much of his life, and spent nine days in jail in 1930 after being arrested for drug possession outside a club. He described marijuana as "a thousand times better than whiskey".

The concern with his health and weight was balanced by his love of food, reflected in such songs as "Cheesecake", "Cornet Chop Suey," though "Struttin' with Some Barbecue" was written about a fine-looking companion, not about food. He kept a strong connection throughout his life to the cooking of New Orleans, always signing his letters, "Red beans and ricely yours..."

Armstrong was also a heavy advocate of major league baseball and founded a team in his hometown of New Orleans, that was formally known as the "Raggedy Nine" and transformed the team into his Armstrong's "Secret Nine Baseball."

Writings

Armstrong's gregariousness extended to writing. On the road, he wrote constantly, sharing favorite themes of his life with correspondents around the world. He avidly typed or wrote on whatever stationery was at hand, recording instant takes on music, sex, food, childhood memories, his heavy "medicinal" marijuana use—and even his bowel movements, which he gleefully described. He had a fondness for lewd jokes and dirty limericks as well.

Social organizations

Louis Armstrong was not, as is often claimed, a Freemason. Although he is usually listed as being a member of Montgomery Lodge No. 18 (Prince Hall) in New York, no such lodge has ever existed. However, Armstrong stated in his autobiography that he was a member of the Knights of Pythias which is not a Masonic group.

Music

Horn playing and early jazz

In his early years, Armstrong was best known for his virtuosity with the cornet and trumpet. Along with his captivating songs with the clarinet, he also captivated audiences with his iconic rhythmic "swing", which was a complex concept involving upbeats, upbeat to down beat slurring, and complementary relations through many rhythmic patterns. The most lauded recordings on which Armstrong plays trumpet include the Hot Five and Hot Seven sessions, as well as those of the Red Onion Jazz Babies. Armstrong's improvisations, while unconventionally sophisticated for that era, were also subtle and highly melodic. The solo that Armstrong plays during the song Potato Head Blues has long been considered his best solo of that series.

Prior to Armstrong, most collective ensemble playing in jazz, along with its occasional solos, simply varied the melodies of the songs. Armstrong was virtually the first to create significant variations based on the chord harmonies of the songs instead of merely on the melodies. This opened a rich field for creation and improvisation, and significantly changed the music into a soloist's art form.

Often, Armstrong re-composed pop-tunes he played, simply with variations that made them more compelling to jazz listeners of the era. At the same time, however, his oeuvre includes many original melodies, creative leaps, and relaxed or driving rhythms. Armstrong's playing technique, honed by constant practice, extended the range, tone and capabilities of the trumpet. In his records, Armstrong almost single-handedly created the role of the jazz soloist, taking what had been essentially a collective folk music and turning it into an art form with tremendous possibilities for individual expression.

Armstrong was one of the first artists to use recordings of his performances to improve himself. Armstrong was an avid audiophile. He had a large collection of recordings, including reel-to-reel tapes, which he took on the road with him in a trunk during his later career. He enjoyed listening to his own recordings, and comparing his performances musically. In the den of his home, he had the latest audio equipment and would sometimes rehearse and record along with his older recordings or the radio.

Vocal popularity

As his music progressed and popularity grew, his singing also became very important. Armstrong was not the first to record scat singing, but he was masterful at it and helped popularize it with the first recording on which he scatted, "Heebie Jeebies". At a recording session for Okeh Records, when the sheet music supposedly fell on the floor and the music began before he could pick up the pages, Armstrong simply started singing nonsense syllables while Okeh president E.A. Fearn, who was at the session, kept telling him to continue. Armstrong did, thinking the track would be discarded, but that was the version that was pressed to disc, sold, and became an unexpected hit. Although the story was thought to be apocryphal, Armstrong himself confirmed it in at least one interview as well as in his memoirs. On a later recording, Armstrong also sang out "I done forgot the words" in the middle of recording "I'm A Ding Dong Daddy From Dumas."

Such records were hits and scat singing became a major part of his performances. Long before this, however, Armstrong was playing around with his vocals, shortening and lengthening phrases, interjecting improvisations, using his voice as creatively as his trumpet.

Composing

Armstrong was a gifted composer who wrote more than fifty songs, which in a number of cases have become jazz standards (e.g., "Gully Low Blues," "Potato Head Blues," and "Swing That Music").

Colleagues and followers

During his long career he played and sang with some of the most important instrumentalists and vocalists of the time; among them were Bing Crosby, Duke Ellington, Fletcher Henderson, Earl Hines, Jimmie Rodgers, Bessie Smith and perhaps most famously Ella Fitzgerald. His influence upon Crosby is particularly important with regard to the subsequent development of popular music: Crosby admired and copied Armstrong, as is evident on many of his early recordings, notably "Just One More Chance" (1931). The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz describes Crosby's debt to Armstrong in precise detail, although it does not acknowledge Armstrong by name:

Crosby... was important in introducing into the mainstream of popular singing an Afro-American concept of song as a lyrical extension of speech... His techniques—easing the weight of the breath on the vocal cords, passing into a head voice at a low register, using forward production to aid distinct enunciation, singing on consonants (a practice of black singers), and making discreet use of appoggiaturas, mordents, and slurs to emphasize the text—were emulated by nearly all later popular singers.

Armstrong recorded two albums with Ella Fitzgerald: Ella and Louis, and Ella and Louis Again for Verve Records, with the sessions featuring the backing musicianship of the Oscar Peterson Trio and drummers Buddy Rich (on the first album), and Louie Bellson (on the second). Norman Granz then had the vision for Ella and Louis to record Porgy and Bess which is the most famous and critically acclaimed version of the Gershwin brothers' work.

His recordings for Columbia Records, Louis Armstrong Plays W.C. Handy (1954) and Satch Plays Fats (all Fats Waller tunes) (1955) were both being considered masterpieces, as well as moderately well selling. In 1961 the All Stars participated in two albums - "The Great Summit" and "The Great Reunion" (now together as a single disc) with Duke Ellington. The albums feature many of Ellington's most famous compositions (as well as two exclusive cuts) with Duke sitting in on piano. His participation in Dave Brubeck's high-concept jazz musical The Real Ambassadors (1963) was critically acclaimed, and features "Summer Song," one of Armstrong's most popular vocal efforts.

In 1964, his recording of the song "Hello Dolly" went to number one. An album of the same title was quickly created around the song, and also shot to number one (knocking The Beatles off the top of the chart). The album sold very well for the rest of the year, quickly going "Gold" (500,000). His performance of "Hello Dolly" won for best male pop vocal performance at the 1964 Grammy Awards.

Hits and later career

Armstrong had nineteen "Top Ten" records including "Stardust", "What a Wonderful World", "When The Saints Go Marching In", "Dream a Little Dream of Me", "Ain't Misbehavin'", "You Rascal You", and "Stompin' at the Savoy". "We Have All the Time in the World" was featured on the soundtrack of the James Bond film On Her Majesty's Secret Service, and enjoyed renewed popularity in the UK in 1994 when it featured on a Guinness advert. It reached number 3 in the charts on being re-released.

In 1964, Armstrong knocked The Beatles off the top of the Billboard Hot 100 chart with "Hello, Dolly!", which gave the 63-year-old performer a U.S. record as the oldest artist to have a number one song. His 1964 song "Bout Time" was later featured in the film Bewitched.

Armstrong performed in Italy at the 1968 Sanremo Music Festival where he sang "Mi Va di Cantare" alongside his friend, the Eritrean-born Italian singer Lara Saint Paul. In February 1968, he also appeared with Lara Saint Paul on the Italian RAI television channel where he performed "Grassa e Bella," a track he sang in Italian for the Italian market and C.D.I. label.

In 1968, Armstrong scored one last popular hit in the United Kingdom with "What a Wonderful World", which topped the British charts for a month. The single did not chart at all in America until twenty years later, when it was used in the 1987 film Good Morning Vietnam (Ruhlman). Armstrong appeared on the October 28, 1970, Johnny Cash Show, where he sang Nat King Cole's hit "Ramblin' Rose" and joined Cash to re-create his performance backing Jimmie Rodgers on "Blue Yodel No. 9".

Stylistic range

Armstrong enjoyed many types of music, from blues to the arrangements of Guy Lombardo, to Latin American folksongs, to classical symphonies and opera. He incorporated influences from all these sources into his performances, sometimes to the bewilderment of fans who wanted him to stay in convenient narrow categories. Armstrong was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as an early influence. Some of his solos from the 1950s, such as the hard rocking version of "St. Louis Blues" from the WC Handy album, show that the influence went in both directions.

Literature, radio, films and TV

Armstrong appeared in more than a dozen Hollywood films, usually playing a bandleader or musician. His most familiar role was as the bandleader cum narrator in the 1956 musical, High Society, in which he sang the title song and performed a duet with Bing Crosby on "Now You Has Jazz". In 1947, he played himself in the movie New Orleans opposite Billie Holiday, which chronicled the demise of the Storyville district and the ensuing exodus of musicians from New Orleans to Chicago. In the 1959 film, The Five Pennies (the story of the cornetist Red Nichols), Armstrong played himself as well as singing and playing several classic numbers. With Danny Kaye Armstrong performed a duet of "When the Saints Go Marching In" during which Kaye impersonated Armstrong. Armstrong also had a part in the film alongside James Stewart in The Glenn Miller Story in which Glenn (played by Stewart) jammed with Armstrong and a few other noted musicians of the time.

He was the first African American to host a nationally broadcast radio show in the 1930s. In 1969, Armstrong had a cameo role in the film version of Hello, Dolly! as the bandleader, Louis, to which he sang the title song with actress Barbra Streisand. His solo recording of "Hello, Dolly!" is one of his most recognizable performances.

He was heard on such radio programs as The Story of Swing (1937) and This Is Jazz (1947), and he also made countless television appearances, especially in the 1950s and 1960s, including appearances on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson.

Argentine writer Julio Cortázar, a self-described Armstrong admirer, asserted that a 1952 Louis Armstrong concert at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris played a significant role in inspiring him to create the fictional creatures called Cronopios that are the subject of a number of Cortázar's short stories. Cortázar once called Armstrong himself "Grandísimo Cronopio" (The Great Cronopio).

Armstrong appears as a minor fictionalized character in Harry Turtledove's Southern Victory Series. When he and his band escape from a Nazi-like Confederacy, they enhance the insipid mainstream music of the North. A young Armstrong also appears as a minor fictionalized character in Patrick Neate's 2001 novel Twelve Bar Blues, part of which is set in New Orleans, and which was a winner at that year's Whitbread Book Awards.

There is a pivotal scene in Stardust Memories (1980) in which Woody Allen is overwhelmed by a recording of Armstrong's "Stardust" and experiences a nostalgic epiphany. The combination of the music and the perfect moment is the catalyst for much of the film's action, prompting the protagonist to fall in love with an ill-advised woman.

Terry Teachout wrote a one-man play about Armstrong called Satchmo at the Waldorf that was premiered in 2011 in Orlando, Fla., and has since been produced by Shakespeare & Company, Long Wharf Theater, and the Wilma Theater. The production ran off Broadway in 2014.

A fledgling musician named "Louis," who is obsessed with Buddy Bolden, appears in two of David Fulmer's Storyville novels: Chasing the Devil's Tail and Jass.

Death

Against his doctor's advice, Armstrong played a two-week engagement in March 1971 at the Waldorf-Astoria's Empire Room. At the end of it he was hospitalized for a heart attack. He was released from the hospital in May, and quickly resumed practicing his trumpet playing. Still hoping to get back on the road, Armstrong died of a heart attack in his sleep on July 6, 1971, a month before his 70th birthday. He was residing in Corona, Queens, New York City, at the time of his death. He was interred in Flushing Cemetery, Flushing, in Queens, New York City. His honorary pallbearers included Bing Crosby, Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, Pearl Bailey, Count Basie, Harry James, Frank Sinatra, Ed Sullivan, Earl Wilson, Alan King, Johnny Carson and David Frost. Peggy Lee sang The Lord's Prayer at the services while Al Hibbler sang "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen" and Fred Robbins, a long-time friend, gave the eulogy.

Awards and honors

Grammy Awards

Armstrong was posthumously awarded the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1972 by the Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. This Special Merit Award is presented by vote of the Recording Academy's National Trustees to performers who, during their lifetimes, have made creative contributions of outstanding artistic significance to the field of recording.

Grammy Hall of Fame

Recordings of Armstrong were inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame, which is a special Grammy award established in 1973 to honor recordings that are at least 25 years old, and that have "qualitative or historical significance."

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame listed Armstrong's West End Blues on the list of 500 songs that shaped Rock and Roll.

Inductions and honors

In 1995, the U.S. Post Office issued a Louis Armstrong 32 cents commemorative postage stamp.

Film honors

In 1999 Armstrong was nominated for inclusion in the American Film Institute's 100 Years...100 Stars.

Legacy

The influence of Armstrong on the development of jazz is virtually immeasurable. Yet, his irrepressible personality both as a performer, and as a public figure later in his career, was so strong that to some it sometimes overshadowed his contributions as a musician and singer.

As a virtuoso trumpet player, Armstrong had a unique tone and an extraordinary talent for melodic improvisation. Through his playing, the trumpet emerged as a solo instrument in jazz and is used widely today. Additionally, jazz itself was transformed from a collectively improvised folk music to a soloist's serious art form largely through his influence. He was a masterful accompanist and ensemble player in addition to his extraordinary skills as a soloist. With his innovations, he raised the bar musically for all who came after him.

Though Armstrong is widely recognized as a pioneer of scat singing, Ethel Waters precedes his scatting on record in the 1930s according to Gary Giddins and others. Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra are just two singers who were greatly indebted to him. Holiday said that she always wanted Bessie Smith's 'big' sound and Armstrong's feeling in her singing. Even special musicians like Duke Ellington have praised Armstrong through strong testimonials. Duke Ellington said, "If anybody was a master, it was Louis Armstrong." In 1950, Bing Crosby, the most successful vocalist of the first half of the 20th century, said, "He is the beginning and the end of music in America."

In the summer of 2001, in commemoration of the centennial of Armstrong's birth, New Orleans's main airport was renamed Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport.

In 2002, the Louis Armstrong's Hot Five and Hot Seven recordings (1925–1928) were preserved in the United States National Recording Registry, a registry of recordings selected yearly by the National Recording Preservation Board for preservation in the National Recording Registry of the Library of Congress.

The US Open tennis tournament's former main stadium was named Louis Armstrong Stadium in honor of Armstrong who had lived a few blocks from the site.

Today, there are many bands worldwide dedicated to preserving and honoring the music and style of Satchmo, including the Louis Armstrong Society located in New Orleans, Louisiana. In the 2009 movie The Princess and the Frog, he is referenced by Louis along with Sidney Bechet, in the song "When We're Human".

Home turned into National Historic Landmark

The house where Armstrong lived for almost 28 years was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1977 and is now a museum. The Louis Armstrong House Museum, at 34-56 107th Street (between 34th and 37th Avenues) in Corona, Queens, presents concerts and educational programs, operates as a historic house museum and makes materials in its archives of writings, books, recordings and memorabilia available to the public for research. The museum is operated by the City University of New York's Queens College, following the dictates of Lucille Armstrong's will. The museum opened to the public on October 15, 2003. A new visitors center is planned.

Wikipedia

#Louis Armstrong #08-04 #07-06

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fulldreamsahead · 4 years

Text

Look Who’s a Homeless Toddler

Look out world, because last night I had the wildest dream that combines a few classic sit-coms and movies into the ultimate reboot. If you loved Look Who’s Talking, Home Alone, or Tokyo Godfathers then I have a dream for you.

We start with a pair of toddlers (we’re talking kids who can just barely walk, but not really talk) that are Roseanne Barr and John Goodman. I’m filling in the role of Roseanne, but I’m operating it in a video game third person camera angle. The two of us are on a playdate and my older brother Kevin MccAllister is babysitting us. In the beginning of the dream I never get to see Kevin, he’s instead talked about. He’s apparently being quite cruel to us, taunting us, and generally being a nightmare of an older brother, so toddler John Goodman and I decide we’ve had enough so we run away to the streets of NYC. Did I mention that we can barely speak, like toddlers, but there is a running narration like in the Look Who’s Talking movies where we can communicate only with other toddlers in full adult voices?

If this has captured your attention, head below to read the rest of the dream.

There’s a short skip to a few weeks later and we are living like the homeless toddler kings of the city. The majority of my dream involves us going on our daily routine, but we keep almost getting caught by another homeless toddler that is like a male version of Fran Drescher. We know if we get caught by him that his nasally voice will chew our ears off. He’s caught our sight and he keeps calling out to us and trying to toddle after, so we duck into the only place we might have a chance at losing him: a homeless shelter for children (an orphanage?!). Unfortunately, he follows us in and we both take shelter by pressing ourselves up against an employee entrance that is a small alcove. He’s calling out to us, but this is a dead-end and we start to panic. We back up as much as we can and in doing so we get a peek through a crack in the door to see there are employees working at small desks inside. I try the door to find it open and we storm inside, closing it behind us. A woman with gorgeous box braids glares at us and we plead with our hands (adults can’t hear the narration) for her to please let us stay and we gesture to who is outside. She recognizes boy Fran Drescher and takes pity on us by calling an organized lunch. Within minutes a bunch of homeless children have swarmed the center and we use the cover to sneak away from Fran.

In the process of ditching Fran we unfortunately have been picked up by Kevin, who has been tailing us all along. This is when I get my first real glimpse of Kevin and unfortunately this isn’t the Kevin you know and love; instead he has been aged up to 15 and is by all accounts the stereotype for ‘douche.’ He has his hair slicked back, his fingers are dripping with gold rings, he’s got white boat pants and shoes on and a black polo shirt with the color popped up. We run down the streets of NYC to get away from him and slip out of the crowd into a local bodega. As we peruse the produce, I tell John Goodman that we need to find out where Kevin is crashing and ransack his place. John Goodman thinks this is a bad plan that is both mean and will get us caught, but I dismiss him angrily in a very typical Roseanne fashion. We separate in a huff and the dream slips into a comical montage where toddler Roseanne is buying groceries from the bodega. Apparently the two of us would beg on the street and we had about $50 saved up. I watch in the third person view as toddler Roseanne buys a random combination of things like one whole eggplant and a jar of horseradish. As I’m getting close to the register with my little hand basket of random items that I can barely hold because I’m a toddler, I see a little souvenir stand with an advertisement for mini white fur trees in glass. The name is bizarre to me because it’s an oblong snow globe type paperweight almost that is full of water and placed inside is a drooping flower. Here is a quick approximation of what it looks like:

The souvenir seemed really significant and, while I’m talking to myself via narration, a stock boy catches sight of me staring at it. He explains to me that this is a special souvenir of the city that represents the famous white fur trees of the fall and if you can keep both flowers alive then you will have great luck. I fumble with my toddler hands/reach to bypass the first few on the shelf because the flowers are already dead before I find one that has one flower that is close to death and another that is alive. This reminds me of my situation so I throw it into the basket and get to the register. The set up is a counter, the register itself, and then a coffee machine (the kind in convenience stores where you push the button and it spews out a premeasured amount of one flavor). I gesture to the lady to get herself and the stock boy some coffee and thankfully she understands. I buy my weird toddler foods, the coffee for the employees and then I wave my hand for her to keep the crumpled up money change I’ve dropped onto the counter toddler style after she tells me the grand total is $45. I’m struggling with the two paper sacks everything was bagged in when I hear the cashier give the stock boy his coffee and make conversation by talking about a new viral puppy video.

The stock boy comments that he hasn’t seen it because it’s gross and the cashier insists that he watch it. As I’m leaving I catch a glimpse of the phone and see some very familiar hands dripping with gold jewelry. I have an epiphany moment and run outside to find John Goodman waiting for me. He tells me he is sorry and I tell him we have no time for that. He takes a bag and I catch him up on the situation and that I have an idea where Kevin may be. John Goodman is confused, but I tell him we have to go so we toddle away. As pro-homeless toddlers we go to a particular spot that I can only reason would be big enough for Kevin to film such videos. We arrive at a small homeless encampment that is in an empty space behind a subway station. Since it’s daytime the makeshift beds are lined up, but most of the occupants are out. I locate a patriotic looking Montana themed duffle bag and I yell out, via narration, that that’s the kind of sack Kevin would have. I set our grocery bags down and run over to the duffle and start ripping through it, only to find diapers and the like. The owner of the bag is two kind gay men with a baby who are horrified with what I’ve done. Via narration Roseanne cracks a really inappropriate joke about how gay men should have better taste before she runs off to scan more beds. We locate a similarly patriotic white duffle bag that is the size of a sleeping bag, but is tented so that a person could get inside and have some headroom like a capsule hotel. The white bag with it’s red and blue detailing has a gold zippered lining so I tell John Goodman that this must be it. This time we carefully open the bag to find a bunch of baby puppies on one side, squirming and not even old enough to have their eyes and ears open. They are in a basket and there is a heating element next to them. On the far side of the duffle is a camera set up with some residue in the shooting area. John Goodman reaches for it only to recoil on how squishy it is. Other homeless people are curious and start gathering around and murmuring. We find out that Kevin has been earning money while on the streets by shooting scat videos with poop made by these stolen puppies. The police are called as Kevin shows up and is captured before he can get us. John Goodman and I high-five and go to gather our groceries from where we had left them at the mouth of the encampment. We say we can finally go home, but Roseanne cracks a joke about what we’d do with all this food and a laugh track rolls.

0 notes

glopratchet · 4 years

Text

retirement-home

of astryl wylde, and barricades with blood, the remains of an undead army, a large group of humans are marching towards the castle to capture the young novitiates, astro's guiding light fading fast with helmets for some reason, from something identifying itself as a "police officer" but definitely not a demonic entity of the infernal plane site guarded by a meched out robot called "m swapping out the rubble squad and suddenly yelling a number of racial slurs and insults directed at the current heroes A love maze hacked into by bandits, going around cutting and gauze coming off a machete and suddenly being used against the whores' fathers, uncles, brothers floating in a tank above The treasure room: filled with safe deposit boxes, but dead heroes Solid walls made of muscle for demonic possession Ex-hero turned torturer absorbed into whores' father made out of rusting car bodies made out of body parts glowing pink chamber, aces and other high rollers lounging around a blackjack table Turing machine with tape recorder attached instead of computer staring down from trees floating along a river A long red carpet leading up to a complex of caves holding a dark tower a technological compound located in a maze beneath guild fortress Gold ingot affixed to tires of an abandoned sports car protruding from wall taking brains out of tank to make adjustments to cyborg Roller derby taking place inside maglev train leading to a red brick factory building upright on two legs topped with a canine snout, ears replaced by headphones, tongue replaced by a forked length of metal a graveyard and defended by ghouls, zombies saying with broken english howling at the gates that lead inside a rubber hose with one end inserted into chest, pumping the other end until it hisses air and injects it into arm y brain lying beneath skull-shaped ashtray Giant bloodworm forcibly injects itself into car accident, taking on the role of defense attorney and saving heroes replaced with roided out hospital patient with tribal tattoos reading a "health" pamphlet with pitbull head cropping up in mineshaft, howling back cheese-loving rabbit filling hole with maggots Bloody biker gang defending hooligans fishing bodies out of ocean Skull toting around a around cafeteria, trading blood packets for peanut butter sandwiches residential hallway lined with dark brick leading to a incinerator chute pizza spinning hypnotically as center of hivecraft bakery built inside Giant brain in a jar of green fluid hooked up to many machines pumping red pills Bloody agent off-duty, taking day off to work in sweaty coal mine filled with moles Mutations of ingredient animals leading up to cafeteria's meat locker working in a padded cell and making tight knots in ropes Sonar tech dolphin with human teeth crafting perfect 3D pictures out of translucent paper, always watching the chemical reaction, spoon-stirring clear liquid in pipe cleaner frame bottle Lightbulbs with eyes replacing the head, leading a team of roaches performing circadian mowing grass and trees with buzzing electric clippers beloved pet in attempt at perfect skin, cat with hair all bunched up in chaotic star pattern Manic pixie dream druggie replacing chemicals with luminol illnesses no doctor ever has, discovering new syndromes furry rodent, making sure every hair lies gently over the next Scat singing improvising jazz demon leading a pan flute band an asian woman, being walked on a leash by an obese man in a midlife crisis Bioengineering two headed kitten replacing scientists at atomic clock facility Man a roguish charm that tricks victims of violent crimes into turning themselves in damed, fragile corpse up close for police records Catalogue everything beautiful in a cold and calculated manner with peer before leaving them to die A day where everything is perfect for absolutely nobody senile luddite lacking cranial ports who stays such a frenzy that artificial hands replace natural ones replacing trash collecting truck's engine with that of a car Security guard painted gold using celebrity blood as self tanner Utility fog turning city street into haunted mansion destroyed by plane Fairies farming fungi fairy rings Derro experimenting on golem skin disease, making a metal plague to wipe out rival syndicate hobgoblins submerging residential area in a hyperbolic chamber rewarding monsters for dedicated service with a paint job on new runway leading into neon-illuminated fog Runners delivering pot of gold to sitting area tied to railroad tracks Man selling barbed wire to fence with visual malfunction Snapdragon seed sputtering in the breeze And that's it! everyone within an inch of their lives Resident egghead removing backwards writing from all police reports Having enamored a river spirit, a bargain is struck to collecting fruit and making uncanny valley holograms to sell as produce Zombie-eyed infant model eating solar cells as curiosity takes over artistic lense Times New Roman self-diagnosed sociopath who tries to take over the world as an act of revenge taking illegal guns and replacing the gunpowder with stool softener Solar panels operating at peak efficiency by day and glowing at night Please upvote this post in an abandoned neon sign These demons raid the servers of a famous novelist Volume brought to deafening levels as class projects flood in dealing with zombie plague and masquerading pain as pleasure Mistaken for a super nova, space station is mistaken for a UFO under blankets of stars quite easily addressed Foundation comprised of passionate, yet incompetent white knights struggling with iron overload juggernaut commanding the respect of a king Haymaker left hook causing immediate and fatal brain damage to some athletes with daddy issues turning dreams into internet points and punching the rich in their bourgeoisie Instructing demons to train dogs for protection based on urban legend Preparing urchin homes in tubes and lizard scales dreaming up exo-planetary bloodsports Crowdsurfing at Heavybites concert into a vat of toxic waste into a hillside of two-bit crimes and dead-end jobs Releasing heavy metal album with medieval torture devices as inspiration Putting down shelter stopping hearts filled with a lethal amount of painkillers leaves bowl half-empty for some reason and nervous twists of a bumbling idiot Chauffeuring the coffin hotel This rotten carrion feasting on hospital waste deserves attention hundreds of miles long covered with thousands of tons of garbage on garbage Making doilies from human teeth Lycanthropic rats offer discounted heroine in their tunnel maze booths surrounded by runaway trains Exports include sewage and toxic waste Graveyard of shoddily screened phones with worn-out batteries Releasing coral snakes and Toll booth to a bankrupt turnpike Skipping to East L because getting their prescription renewed is taking too damned long! hotel of Xeno-produced downtempo Music streaming through cheap speakers Barges full of deer draped in Goji berries Dozens of ladders addict promoting solar panels with faded tattoos Drugs and hookers bleeds dry host more every day A group of cloaked hags make their rounds Matching silver bracelets disguise gang colors of an old woman living on main drag Empty ranch house discarded for the city lights Unlicensed doctors freshly painted headstones of wind smelling like aftershave and formaldehyde injections made from crushed insects Whole-bodied automatons trying out hip new clothing brands Tendency for the mindless army to follow their leader slav to enhance strength and agility by a factor of eight Long-stem rose for a first-date dinner with a vampire fanatics chanting for human- hunting competitions in the arena Secondary arm used for primary, seeing if it can continue without it illuminated by a pulsating womblike membrane Arrival at ached-foretold destination with dead GPS Masterful motion detector sitting on empty leather chair of recently liquidated telemarketers Colonies of jeweled spiders weaving new master's throne Perfectly reflective floors leading to underground pool virtuoso playing songs to his plants Mound of excrement and toilet paper curling around the drain pieced together into castle for dolls and action figures Lifetime of old newspapers piling up in hallway of seahorse and conch shells in curio cabinet Acrylic Zombie feet used as bookends on Ikea coffee table pile of sea anemone skeletons See: Quagga mussels growing 1 5 inches every day loading chemical feeding frenzy Metal lockbox and two dozen melted pistol barrels Dislocated limbs being surgically removed cooks lifting boxes full of organs Autopsied child with fatal cranial swelling Colony of epileptic coral clustered around human skull surgeon and his mentally defective assistant A morgue disguised as a taxidermy museum gift shop -infected calendars stuck on random dates Bags overflowing with leaking saline-solution and blood hopelessly pushing Humvees to get them out of the way Wading through crunchy autumn leaves for miles shot adding two more hours to cheat death Barefoot and wrapped in bloody bath towels Corpse itching from maggots displaced by fresh cuts bricked into their own hallway Everybody gets the shits after drinking the water monster from a Japanese horror film with skin parasites Big black frothing chunks of flesh exploding diarrhea of nose-hair-clogging, dense, mucusy goo some old Indian told you your first week in the hotel Some see it as a disease safe haven and refugee camp determination of the sub-conscious brain's fears Some beachside and forest hideouts in the middle of nowhere of the deceased 28th President's daughter Stinging insects populate the surrounding swamps Send in the military to cleanse everyone and everything of the rot-resistant zippers on your forefather's safe for vision and ideas by the GSA-appointed leader Litigation between bloodthirsty lawyers and corrupt jury from melted snow trickling down the walls Camouflage in the forest, grass, and rocks all around you from your double-crossing, brimstone- hellbound Father Surgical removal of parasitic twin fetuses attached to your spine the cyborg supervisor monitoring your every move Catalogs flooding the hotel with trade workers and potential hostages men making a 100% more effort-- 300% more loot! Blood-caked machete meat cleaver thrown into the furnace razors, and other crucial supplies consumed The neon light flickering imitates the rhythm of hums pearls, and other gems for portraits sitting on dressers Variety of knickknacks and memorabilia from around the world toys sweep under pillows and between mattresses Forlorn light saffron-robed monks shed quiet tears industrial perfumes pumped into your room suffocate you Silverfish skeletons and moth wings piling up in the closet sprays spaying your gardenview room Useless, broken gimmicks and gadgets electrocuting you haggle over who gets what and how it'll be used Which schools, sketchy private or governmental organizations get to screen for fieldtrips and celebration of masculinity Musicians for weekend retreats to get high Surgeons for classes struggling to keep up for the cold, plague-infested northern frontier Soldiers for war-games and accidentally killing each other competitors for photo shoots and competitions None because they think they can get somewhere on their own They do amazing things with what they've got gays wallow in the cheapest corner of the hotel Young, impressionable experimenting homosexuals The families of same-gender lovers banished to malnutrition zones to change you from Utopian to sub-human in a breeding program Inferior Americans with the wrong genes will be eradicated and manufacturers get rich, corpse eaters the opposite Sorrowful fatties give their children a once in a generation chance at life redesigned with supermodel abs and bulging muscles bred for biological and sociological experiments millennia ago The 21st century the pool of vomit and dirty needles floats by -colored sludge oozes over the city Cranial- defects, alcoholics, and degens create empires glide everywhere and everything is shared Psychedelic trance dancing to save the world too gross for red-blooded humans The rotting, fetid meat that passes for brains siphon powers from the ancient sewage system Rats and lice feasting on trash and mutants overcoming your will to live one moment at a time Your filthy naked body marinated in blood and vomit high-arched feet battered and bruised and malnutrition give you anemia, Goiters the size of melons throb and pulse Yet your calf muscles bulge with power The clomping of your hooves crushing stones Finally given a chance to prove your worth glow in the radiated water and cantaloupes distended and heavy with juice Baskins & Robbins 31 flavors of ice cream in a cone -diving maggots and fleas for under privileged or anyone! Laborers unloading the freshest of arrivals truck and ladies' man for the sweetest girlies in town Down-on-their luck drifters including paroled thieves, dealers and pimps buggy racing across the desert on a stimulant Steal to survive, thrive by wits alone or turn tricks clothing snatching the eyes The safest, usually with a jewelry store in the basement Branding, tattoos and body mods done on site army boys marching in lockstep Take the mopping job to be close to princess fresh blood their hearts pump gunpowder and their minds are weapons Not eligible for mind-wipe or re- placement drinking vodka instead Bio-engineering students replace bodies with machines Take ancient engine of destruction for a joyride feeding time at the botanical garden Plush and velvet splendor in a chintz chair Women have success, men fail at the Bite-o-Mania food cart An illegal basement chop shop for bikes and cars and cold, hard cash covered in a soft, warm peritoneum Working stiff possessed by envy for the office drone The deserters next attack could be your bunker Wayward sentinent Kryton tubes generating waste heat unlikely to survive outside controlled environment Thought-leader and crowd-driver influencing the masses are almost human, subject to scientific curiosity Livery with carved iconography and bright colors Mendicants, beggers and mercenaries almost pick your own lot Old Mother Mallard's Rusty Charognards Saloon Gliding as long as possible until the last moment The screaming and wailing of fetid winds If too deep you'll fall the rest of the way through the earth and hit whatever is on the other side This is the essence of skydiving or free falling in layman's terms so you may substitute it for the eggs damaging it or even break so try for that speed also, learn the location you will fall or descend from and do you math using the freefall calculator on this site i give you : Just forward momentum, right? Well it really isn't it's just like anchoring a parachute except your moving object is the Earth and not yourself ther are lines in this story that just keep tugging away at you after losing your love to the treachery of a jealous witch hmF! Sorry, my intent was not to stubivkzny ah, I mean stQrb? b you

0 notes

mimicjapan · 4 years

Text

1: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:52:07 ID:fMus8bxQ0.net

Death due to hemorrhagic shock such as a deep wound in the neck.

The cause of death was found to be hemorrhagic shock when a woman was stabbed and killed in a commercial facility in Fukuoka City on the 28th.

On the 28th at a commercial facility in Fukuoka City, it was found that Misato Yoshimatsu (21) had fallen bleeding in the toilet and died thereafter.

According to investigators, Yoshimatsu had multiple stab wounds on his left chest and deep wounds on his neck, and his judicial autopsy revealed that he was bleeding shock.

At a commercial facility, a self-proclaimed 15-year-old boy with a kitchen knife was arrested for a current criminal offense, and police have set up an investigation headquarters to find the boy involved in the killing.

It seems that the two had no acquaintance.

*Excerpts from the links below. Continuing with the source.

https://www.fnn.jp/articles/-/79270

3: Sunday, August 30, 2020 02:54:56 ID:RUSQ5Qwn0.net.

What is the kid's name and face photo?.

4: Sunday, August 30, 2020 02:55:25 ID:mU5Mitt/0.net.

Also, are you only seeing the victim's face?

>>4

7: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:56:58 ID:+O8pe5le0.net.

What? Forgive me.

9: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:57:20 ID:yXNp9MOb0.net.

A mystery in which the victim's name and face are exposed and the perpetrator is hidden.

>>9 Youth law doesn't want to be a violent crime.

>>9 Really that.

14: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:57:50 ID:Zd+Gz9CF0.net.

Was it further chopped by judicial dissection?

16: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:58:18 ID:jk9ASThQ0.net.

This kid has also been released, and he doesn't even have a criminal record, so he forgets about the incident.

18: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:59:06 ID:SlBQpvl/d.net.

will live in a free apartment called Juvenile Training Center for a few years and come back to normal.

20: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:59:43 ID: fMus8bxQ0.net.

was stabbed in the toilet by Metta.

21: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:59:51ID:DZtkO5600.net.

The kid is the death penalty.

>>21 It's impossible even if the Sake Demon Rose comes out to the aunt.

23: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:00:08 ID:bbnKdDor0.net.

What kind of circumstances do you have when you are a minor, such as a demon.

40: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:03:05 ID:Mf8YqsVc0.net.

Why is this happening, regardless of age?

54: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:05:29 ID:q0dXGLi80.net.

Even if was born so cute, wouldn't be happy.

57: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:05:47ID:0ApyzKcR0.net.

Anyone could have liked it (actually, it was a firm choice).

>>57 Anyone (if it seems weaker than me) was fine.

97: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:10:09ID:k65Sgrhv0.net.

When think about parents' feelings, crying.

108: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:10:52 ID:w0Cf2GFbd.net.

This is what haven't heard from the news at all.

152: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:14:31 ID:g2ymG2xV0.net.

The boy law has fallen.

180: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:16:35 ID:lsiPZgM+H.net.

The 15-year-old is a crazy country where everything is protected and allowed.

2: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:52:42 ID: fMus8bxQ0.net.

A video of when they were taken over.

hungry.

10: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:57:30 ID: cUo/S7eG0.net.

>>2

Macho is edging a sense of justice.

>>10 more excited about adrenaline than justice A family that oppresses will have children specializing in brain structure that makes it easy for the child to lose reason.And in anger, forget about me, and become an adult who can not distinguish between good and evil and commit crimes. Therefore, the one who gets excited and irritated by seeing violence is a criminal reserve army, and is also a victim who was the target of stress relief for poisoned parents. Poisoning parents who want to show their authority are wasting time and effort to give birth to children.

>>10 Really..

113: Sunday, August 30, 2020 03:11:07 ID:5NGBu61l0.net.

>>10

Just like adding a hand, it's just like a man.

383: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:29:11 ID:RQCoG45F0.net.

>>2

Mysterious punch grass, maybe junior high school students.

>>383 In the unlikely event that you can escape, it's just a slight pain that weakens or weakens your power. Is it a mystery?.

396: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:30:08.25ID:MrTPLIDo0.net.

>>2

Damn it.

haven't seen it.

5: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:55:41 ID:fMus8bxQ0.net.

Apparently she was shopping with her three female friends.

30: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:01:22 ID:RibxU+On0.net.

>>5

Not even a clerk?

It's also perfect.

11: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:57:31 ID:2lwsb0Fq0.net.

Kill these guys while holding them down.

>>11 That's fine, even though it's a minor, it's definitely a defective product and has no future. It's ridiculous to use tax to protect error messages.

473: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:35:29.71 ID:2AEgmBg10.net.

>>11

Knees on neck.

12: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:57:42 ID:KxPeOZJW0.net.

Why are only the victims exposed?

Really sorry.

42: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:03:52 ID:q0dXGLi80.net.

>>12

When die, letting go of human rights, so it can't be helped.

237: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:20:08 ID:4zKoCkiS0.net.

>>42

A corpse consists of people and things and things.

17: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 02:58:42 ID: fMus8bxQ0.net.

It seems that the news is regulated.

The news is barely covered.

31: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:01:35 ID:.

don't really need the Juvenile Law.

don't think the person doing this kind of thing will be rectified.

Get the death penalty.

>>31 really think so.

34: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:02:00 ID:t/BHHnpe0.net.

This is the luck that boyfriend is half gray.

>>34 If it's a picture you're hugging, that's a rapper, T?.

142: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:13:34 ID:QIrDWN0M0.net.

>>34

Is there any evidence that your boyfriend is half-gray? Not a fanatic.

>>142 ↓ ↓ ↓ Chi beef also w.

>>142 All the scary guys for Yin-kya are half gray.

172: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:15:55 ID:t/BHHnpe0.net.

>>142

There was an image of boyfriend in the thread that was standing in the daytime yesterday, and was told that.

198: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:17:33 ID:Mf8YqsVc0.net.

>>172

It's too scary, even exposing a photo of lover to the internet, it's just as bad as a murderer.

254: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:21:01 ID:IvOtbcrk0.net.

>>198

This is the image that he exposed on SNS.

51: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:05:06 ID:DSMTONBva.net.

Perhaps the woman's side made the kid stupid.

62: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:06:05 ID:5AV90Slg0.net.

>>51

Crime scene women's toilet.

170: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:15:52 ID:dcI0MUeA0.net.

>>62

Eh.

59: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:05:50 ID:0tVUcO3J0.net.

The first offender, one person, if you name a minor, it is doubtful that there is even an indefinite life rather than the death penalty.

Probably about 18 years.

101: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:10:16 ID:DTCebTWDa.net.

It's called a women's toilet.

In a place where there are only people with low basic physical ability.

A place where it is difficult for men to get help even if they call for help.

130: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:12:37.19 ID:Qos5YlLv0.net.

>>130 It's Oliva.

>>130 Is it Oliva?

143: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:13:41 ID:kl+28zY70.net.

>>130

Strong.

148: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:14:09 ID:RibxU+On0.net.

>>130

Grass.

235: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:20:07 ID:xOad6FL20.net.

>>130

What does a kitchen knife break?

273: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:22:20 ID:Zd+Gz9CF0.net.

>>235

If it is made of new ceramics, it will break.

303: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:24:12.47ID:xOad6FL20.net.

>>273

Oh yeah.

wonder if am a self-catering J person.

296: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:23:48.33 ID:lDpP0EjM0.net.

>>130

A terminator or something?.

562: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:40:52 ID:c6/4tUB/0.net.

>>130

Thanks to the clothes of Magileth Sumanga.

131: Sunday, August 30, 2020 03:12:37.31 ID:ZvNnA9hs0.net.

Fukuoka...

In Fukuoka, there are some guys who are begging for accounting.

https://video.twimg.com/ext_tw_video/1164247852563873793/pu/vid/720x1280/GKhgxyccV0Z853tJ.mp4

��>>131 It's a messy boobs w Like the Fukuoka version of last year's fanatic couple.

>>131 Inflammation of repeated Japan Posts (effect 0

>>131 'll post it on Scat Japan.

>>131 afraid can't turn to someone who gets caught up in the back even though afraid of it.

203: Sunday, August 30, 2020 03:17:53 ID:HoVAHgxX0.net.

>>131

Turn around and love.

322: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:25:11 ID:FPfWbKGB0.net.

>>131

It's too hard.

162: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:15:17 ID:6svm00Uc0.net.

The daughter stabbed by Akiba Kato was also sorry.

Has Kato not yet executed the death penalty?

169: Sunday, August 30, 2020 03:15:46 ID:yXNp9MOb0.net.

The Juvenile Law is a minor offense, though.

It's better to expose those who do such brutal things.

How much can you expose from school?

183: Sunday, August 30, 2020 03:16:44 ID:BxRPRjpO0.net.

It's strange to have a stab, without the privacy of the dead person.

Even if such a person is killed, it will come out in a few years, and there are many unfair people in the world.

>>183 could understand this kind of opinion before. In the case where the host man was stabbed by a woman who was dating, "The girl is cute, innocent and yeah w" "The host is a waste ~", and the victim spreads a lot of images lying naked blood, From the perspective of justice on the internet, which gives a lot of likes, these opinions only seemed empty. can't be ashamed to say that the world is full of injustice. Well, these people, when pointed out, said, "It's not necessarily the same person writing ~", but fooling you. It's ugly.

>>183 It is because of the unreasonable and unfair distortion that the internet people can safely engage in internet lynching..

192: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:17:05 ID:FvYxGtug0.net.

stabbed it multiple times and cut off the neck, or it was too much of an egg.

211: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:18:31 ID:ZvNnA9hs0.net.

>>192

Have you been decapitated?.

------ ↑ twitter descriptions ----------------

Knife Man It's bloody and you can hold it down...😨 #PayPay Dome #Mark Is #Knife Man https: //t.co/YqNolMTB1B

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

229: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:19:46 ID:FvYxGtug0.net.

>>211

It says that there is a deep scratch on the neck.

Originally it was cut off.

249: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:20:50 ID:kwCALPMC0.net.

How many people are there with junior high school students?

https://i.imgur.com/hyxz9Ns.jpg

>>249 If there is only information about the man who stabbed a woman, that would be the case.

>>249 You're a murderer.

>>249 What is this grass with a serious net? Is the head in front of you?.

265: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:21:46 ID:rve0S3RKa.net.

>>249

The police gather like an idiot.

>>265 If it doesn't gather like this, it will be useless as a state power, and even if police officers are in full force, it is an intimidating effect.

>>265 There are a lot of people originally because that consulate is near.

>>265 Do you want to throw in your strength one after another?

>>265 Do you think it is to catch the criminal? If there are many targets, it will be because it is to protect citizens w.

277: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:22:30 ID:ZeemWddd0.net.

>>265

If you lick it, you'll get yelled.

290: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:23:12 ID:+O8pe5le0.net.

>>265

The other person is a murderer.

It has nothing to do with brat.

452: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:33:36 ID:2vOPyLUod.net.

>>265

A group of sports clubs.

A sense of unity.

464: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:34:32 ID:J2B9264I0.net.

>>265

It's because you're parting with an appalling person and an intimidating person.

487: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:36:36 ID:BiQ/rrcW0.net.

>>265

There were people sleeping in the downtown area of Wai, so there were people sleeping there, so when went to the police box, was surprised to see about six people coming.

It's a wanted criminal.

300: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:24:03.79 ID:Q/a/5ttN0.net.

>>249

What's the one in front of me?

310: Sunday, August 30, 2020 03:24:31.44 ID:wXzx3MZOa.net.

>>300

You can see it looks like a human head.

318: 2020/08/30 (Sun) 03:24:56.23 ID:OFhF63Q00.net.

>>300

Sashimataro.

The one with the mark of the fire department.

via http://tomcat.2ch.sc/test/read.cgi/livejupiter/1598723527/

News via exercisesfatburnig.blogspot.com http://mimicjapan.blogspot.com/2020/08/20200830-sun-025207-idfmus8bxq0.html

#News

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transyuurri-blog1 · 5 years

Photo

Scat woman sainte-marthe-sur-le-lac and scat singles Mikkeli

#scat singles City Center #scat woman Valladolid #scat singles Öregrund

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pagesofkenna · 5 years

Text

Direct Mayhem: Undermountain, Chapter 6

In which we practice our balancing act

Before the party heads down into the third level of the Undermountain, Carlin, the gnome rogue, suggests detouring into a side cave. On their map it looks like a quick hallway, and he’s interested to see if there’s any treasure at the end of it, so the others oblige.

The first part of this detour includes an incredibly long hallway, the end of which is obscured in dim light. As they get closer, Sadi, the tabaxi monk, notices there are a set of ballistas - just before the ballistas fire.

Sadi scrambles up the wall, exposing Tariq, the facechanging warlock, but Carlin is hurt the worse. Anahera, the triton barbarian ally, rushes forward to attack while the others throw spells and arrows from a distance. Eventually, after the ballistas begin to shamble forward on stilts closer, the party is able to destroy them.

This hallway leads to a room with a strange pillar, with spigots on each side. Tariq tries them out, but the only thing they release is years worth of dust as well as something rotten. There are carvings of drunken dwarves on the walls, so everyone assumes this must have been a drinking room of some sort.

The next room contains six large brewer vats. Most of them are completely empty, with drain pipes Tariq figures must have gone to the pillar spigots, but while investigating Tariq also awakens a Beholder Zombie.

The party is able to take it down in a few rounds, but while doing so Tariq unleashes a strange new spell he never had before. He tries to brush it off.

At the end of the brewery room are double doors leading into a slopped hallway, decorated with images of dwarves standing on sideways barrels. Carlin notices a trapped floor in the hallway, so he goads Tariq into trying to balance on a barrel with him. It takes them a few tries, but eventually they get it, and even convince Anahera and Sadi to join them. The party rolls down the hallway, discovering two secret rooms, and splitting up into two to investigate.

Sadi and Tariq discover a pyramid of old ale barrels, still sealed, with glowing runes on the lids. Tariq starts an identify spell to figure out what the rune is for before they investigate any further.

Carlin and Anahera find a similar room, with tons of smashed barrels. Which Carlin is poking around, three of the barrels comes to life, revealing themselves to be mimics. The other two are called over to help save Carlin’s life, which takes about as long as it did to kill the Beholder Zombie.

Everyone reconvenes in the room without the mimic bodies. While Tariq tries his identify again, Carlin takes a more physical approach, puncturing a hole in the top of one of these barrels. The glyph fades when he does, and the barrel is revealed to be full of amazing-tasting ale. It turns out the glyph is a preservative magic, and this ancient dwarven ale is still drinkable today.

Which gives everyone ideas for their tavern (which they still never opened). Tariq suggests hiring people to come retrieve all these barrels, and specializing their tavern with historic ale made by the original dwarf settlers.

During this discussed, they realize they’ve never decided on an official title for their little adventuring group. Ideas fly, and Carlin finally suggests they use their initials. What do those initials spell, anyways? TACS... SCAT... CATS?

They settle on CATS. Carlin leaves a letter on the opened barrel of ale, informing all future adventurers that this is the property of C.A.T.S.

Finally, they head down the stairs to the 3rd level of the Undermountain.

They follow a path into an ancient dwarven catacombs, the base of some ancient dwarven temple. The more they travel this way, the more everything seems to be covered in spider webs.

Finally they get to a door, guarded by four quagoths and a drow mage. He hasn’t spotted them yet, so Tariq shapeshifts into a drow and leads the others forward. The drow is initially suspicious of this group, and asks Tariq (in Elvish) what his name and house are. Tariq says his name is Darren, of the House Auvyndar (the same house their friend Rizzeryl on the second level claimed to serve).

The guard relaxes, suspecting Tariq to be new to the house. He asks if they’re here to see Mistriss T’rissa, and tells ‘Darren’ he’ll have to leave his retinue behind in the waiting room, as the Mistriss won’t speak to any non-drow.

The party plans some subterfuge, but are thwarted when they discover four troglodytes mining in the waiting room, eyeing the newcomers oddly. Tariq agrees to go forward while the others wait.

The main altar room of this ancient temple has been desecrated, covered in spider webs, with some of the spiders’ victims strung up on the pillars and dwarven carvings. Four drow, two men and two women, hold a meeting with three giant spiders, beneath the watch of an elaborately-clothed drow woman standing on the altar dais. Behind her, another drow man is strung up, gagged, and covered in spider eggsacs.

The fancy woman, presumably T’rissa, ignores ‘Darren’, but the others take note, asking him why he’s here. He repeats his story of being a friend of Rizzeryl’s as well as a member of house Auvyndar, and asks for information on the layout of this level of the Undermountain.

The drow tell him very little. They’re fighting a hobgoblin band known as the Legion of Azrok, and they don’t have any interest in the fight between the Zhentarim and the Xanathar’s guild going up above their heads. They already know about the portals, which they use to travel between the different levels at will, and if ‘Darren’ doesn’t have anything to report he might as well leave.

Tariq tries to get more answers, asking about the alabaster throne he was sent to find, which he’s told is somewhere beyond the ‘city’ down another cave path and guarded by an earth monster. At this point, T’rissa herself finally speaks up, questioning ‘Darren’s loyalties, asking if one of her sisters sent him to spy on her.

Realizing he should probably quit while he’s ahead, Tariq asks one last question - what House name is he to give to pass through the city without trouble? At this all the drow share a look, and ask which house ‘Darren’ came from before he was ‘married into Auvyndar’. Tariq flounders, says ‘the bad one?’ and is escorted out by one of the male drow, who is asked to ‘show him to the city’.

When Carlin, Sadi, and Anahera finally see this strange drow escorting Tariq out of the audience chambers, they instantly know something is up. He tries to take them to a side room, but Carlin warns Tariq, who casts a spell to trick the drow into going first. Then Tariq shuts and locks the door, and everyone bolts.

They’re about the find the drow city with no problem - it’s an enormous underground cavern that must have once been a huge underground city, but which is now partially in ruins. The party smells food cooking nearby, and they’re hungry, so they go to find the kitchen.

Three male drow are guarding a bugbear and three goblins, chained together and forced to work in the kitchen. They’re initially hostile of the party, but Carlin is able to talk them down, and they let the visitors eat as long as they hand over what dwarven ale they have on hand.

The two groups swap some info. The drow tell the party more about the alabaster throne, which should be in an old dwarven storage room out ‘by the river’. They also tell the party about T’rissa’s sisters, who are vying for inheritance, and briefly mention the fight occurring further down the Undermountain.

Eventually the party is kicked out, and told that the passing patrols will probably kill them anyways, so they decide to hide in a back corner for the night. Tariq sets up a magical dome, and everyone takes turns on watch to make sure no drow sneak up on them.

Before they sleep, Carlin and Sadi get on Tariq’s case about the strange magical spell he cast earlier, and Tariq confesses he has no idea what his magic is doing. Tariq also asks about the mark Carlin mentions, and Carlin shows off a strange magical mark on his arm. Apparently it’s the reason he’s able to do his small whisper spell.

The next morning, they pack up and head down the main tunnel. The party finds the river, and then a large room filled with huge, perfectly square stones. In the center of the room, asleep, stands an enormous Xorn.

Tariq casts invisibility on Sadi and Anahera, and everyone tries to sneak past, but unfortunately just as they get halfway through the room the Xorn awakens, smelling the air, and lunging for Sadi.

#dnd #direct mayhem #story time #long session long session!!#long session leaves me very tired at the end i feel bad

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comicsbeat · 7 years

Text

Yet more amazing comics debuting at tomorrow’ Comic Arts Brooklyn show!

Roopert August Lipp Revival House 56 pages, 8.5″ X 11″ 2 color offset $10

The long-awaited debut by comics virtuoso, August Lipp. Perhaps you’ve been fortunate to see glimpses of his work in esteemed anthologies such as Smoke Signals, for example. Now, one can evince the full dexterity of his talent with the exuberant saga, Roopert. Roopert is excited to return to school after a summer of splendid adventures! His best chums will all be there: Clyve the shy badger, Benji the other, slightly shorter bear, Hannah the ballsy fox, Timothy the average frog, Clarissa the dentally-advantaged crocodile and many more. Hey, this school is a real ZOO! What kind of antics will they get up to when the bell rings and Miss Julienne the human’s 6th grade class begins? Irreverence and beastly nature are masked by overzealous displays of etiquette as the child animals struggle for agency in the face of less-than-responsible authority figures. Follow along as this comic meanders through Roopert’s first action-packed day of middle school! Adult supervision recommended. published by Revival House Press!

Hot Dog Beach #4 by Lale Westvind

High octane slapstick adventure starring Mop and Fuzz, two ding dongs trying to make a buck on a strange gig that never ends.

“BIG BONERZ: A Street Dawgz Comic Collection” by Lizz Lunney

This experimental comic tells the story of a group of canines that tackle depression, drug addiction and anger problems whilst roaming the streets and protecting their cardboard box home from outsiders. Lunney explores themes of fame/celebrity, mental health problems, class struggle, addiction and more through a pack of homeless street dogs. Lots of jokes! Lots of bones! Published by Birdcage Bottom Books 5.25″ x 7.5″, 44 pages. $7 Two-color risograph cover with b+w interior

The Loud Atlas

By Peter + Maria Hoey

Our new accordion fold book takes a surreal and funny look at the noisy world imagined by the Italian Futurists. Using the style of Marinetti and the rhyming pattern of Dr. Seuss. 8 panels and 45” inches long. Screen printed in 2 colors and hand bound on black book board in an edition of 50.

DOMINO BOOKS

At CAB, we are proud to debut our ninth publication, BOOK OF DAZE by E.A. Bethea. Swing by table M3 to check it out—we will also have dozens and dozens of rare zines and art books available, many of them making their debut at the show.

If you can’t make it to CAB, BOOK OF DAZE is available for pre-order now through our online shop.

Book of Daze by E.A. Bethea. $6, 40 pages. Color cover, black and white interior, printed on newsprint.

“I first discovered Bethea’s stuff almost twenty years ago, she is one of the people whose work made me finally commit to comics as my medium of choice. With her barbed, nervous line and blunt writing style, she’s like a Duchampian voice calling for comics revolt. Her comics call out to us that no matter how damaged or how much of an outsider someone is, comics is our birthright.” -Josh Bayer, author of Theth

Book of Daze by E.A. Bethea is the kind of book DOMINO exists to publish. I first found Bethea’s work lying around an apartment I was visiting. I picked it up and from that moment on, have never forgotten it. As I began to read her dense pages, I was overwhelmed by the straightforward emotional statements and startlingly precise mind behind the sequences. In one moment, Bethea’s comics would acknowledge pain and disappointment, then turn to explain it away or justify things, only to finally confront the problem from a new angle. On the next page, simple pleasures became the focus, romantic notions embraced. Later on in the book cynical approaches to anything and everything were duly considered. All of this managed to congeal as Bethea kept another strong cloud hanging over it all: a refusal to shy away from an unashamed embrace of the full panorama of life.

Bethea, a simple interpretation might offer, chronicles the web of living in the world with a heart and a mind sometimes at odds and sometimes simpatico. But Bethea gives us something more complex: at times, the work feels dead-pan as it shifts from exhilaration to resignation without a change in visual presentation, but it’s here where we have a guide to the heart of Bethea’s project. The often uniform nature of the pages and the highly non-uniform nature of what is contained within become a catalog of days or weeks or years. One page offers a subdued period in life, while the next (seemingly) similar page offers a day full of regret. Bethea talks about her work relating to cinema, specifically calling attention to what happens between one of her panels and the next. The shifts in emotion and carefully chosen images alongside highly precise language feel like walking into a film where the entire crew–from director to actor to gaffer—united in one mind to make something highly exquisite.

The Unquotable Trump by R. SIkoryak (Drawn and Quarterly)

R. Sikoryak frames Trump and his declarations as the words and actions of the most notable villains and antagonists in comic book history.

The House of Dickinson by R. Sikoryak (self published)

This mini combines the poetry of Emily Dickinson with the atmosphere of 1950’s horror comics.

Futile Comics #6 Mike Centeno

A 16 page look at a day in the life of a woman who deals with subway abuse, retail hijinx, and gym bros until she reaches the breaking point and has no energy left to keep all the black goop of rage inside of her.

Precious Little Lives By Joe Garber

This new American classic follows the melodramatic tragedies of a Tap n’ Scat Jazzist just trying to make her way in the world with a head full of dreams and a pocket full of toxic-male assholes.

Generous Consolation Conor Stechschulte In consolation for not having the third volume of Generous Bosom ready in time for CAB, this zine offers a preview of selected images from that book. Available on its own or for free with a preorder of GB3.

TRUMPTRUMP Volume 1: nomination to inauguration

by Warren Craghead III

Every day, Warren Craghead draws and shares grotesque portraits of Donald Trump and his minions. TRUMPTRUMP Volume 1 collects the first six months of these daily drawings with context and commentary, from when Trump accepted the Republican nomination for president on July 21, 2016 until his inauguration on January 20, 2017. — Retrofit Comics

Bestiary by Alden Viguilla

A collection of mythical beasts risographed in blue and gold.

Final form #1 By Craig Bowers

A fantasy about two friends trying to make quick cash so they can go travel the world and two frogs slacking on the job.

The 12 Days of Christmas

Caitlin Keegan

The 12 days of Christmas, illustrated. A holiday zine that you can color (or not.)

Twin Peaks poster

Caitlin Keegan

12×18″ poster featuring sketchbook drawings of characters from season 3.

Bronze Enamel Sun Pin

Caitlin Keegan

Bronze + enamel pin with reversible sun face (1.125″)

I’ll also have copies of The Illuminated Tarot, which came out in April.

So What? Press Tales of the Night Watchman LLC

www.sowhatpress.com

Tales of the Night Watchman is the story of Nora, a blogger stuck working a dead end job in coffee, and her roommate, Charlie, who happens to be possessed (in the nicest way possible) by a spectral detective called The Night Watchman. Baristas by day, heroes by night, Nora and Charlie answer the call to fight the city’s never-ending flux of supernatural activity.

#gallery-0-6 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-6 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Issue synopsis:

The Gowanus Golem is back! In this follow up to one of the series’ most popular tales, Brooklyn’s most toxic monster is after a couple thugs who are responsible for the death of a young boy. There’s only one problem: To stop him, The Night Watchman must protect one of the killers. Oh, and did we mention it’s also a Christmas special? Written by Dave Kelly Artwork by Brett Hobson Colors by Clare DeZutti Cover by Tim Hamilton

Over Time, Every Section Was Allowed To Grow Accordingly Aaron Cockle, New York Is For Sale, Table J2

It’s part 1 of a 2-part Franz Kafka fan comic, 32 pages

Annie Mok Loves Videogames by Annie Mok

A collection of comics, essays, and an interview, all about an abiding love and critique of games such as The Legend of Zelda, Shenmue, Sonic, and others. Annie Mok freelances for Rookie Mag, The Comics Journal, The Establishment, and others, and now makes games such as The Haunted Nintendo.

Keep Going Greg Kletsel

32 page Risograph zine inspired by the phrase “keep going”.

Animation: Dansemorphia (on custom silicone USB’s !) Zine: Frame Drain –

Roya Haroun

blurb- Danse! Morph! Ya!

Parasite Wanderer By Connor McCann

A girl wakes up with a parasite attached to her face and the two embark on a bombastic and poetic 16 page adventure.

People of Oakland Asuka Ohsawa

When I moved from Brooklyn to Oakland in 2014, in an attempt to get to know my new environment, I got into the habit of staring at people who caught my attention, memorizing their facial features, and drawing them at home. The book is a collection of some of those sketches.

Somewhere, Sometime Asuka Ohsawa

After my dad passed away in 2016, I traveled to my childhood home in Japan often and dug through his material possessions. This experience triggered an avalanche of childhood memories that I hadn’t thought of for so many years. I decided to piece together bits and pieces of these memories in this book.

Slasher #5 by Charles Forsman

It’s all been leading to this. The final issue of Charles Forsman’s exploration into violence and sexuality. After the events of issue four, Christine lets herself indulge for the last time. From the creator of the E4/Netflix series The End of the F***ing World.

Live at the Grelman: #4 Amy Magick By Vinnie Neuberg, AT Pratt, and Derek Timm-Brock

Live at the Grelman is a collaborative storytelling stand-up comedy comic strip. All strips are written and drawn in the order that they appear and nothing is preplanned. This issue features guest strips by Drew Miller, Disa Wallander, Lane Graff, Max Huffman, Kelsey Wroten, Haejin Park, Mikey Karpiel, and Michael Furler. 40pp

Touch By Vinnie Neuberg

A new mini-comic about an online date gone awry in a Virtual Reality world. Each comic comes with a foldout poster. 24pp

False Advertising By Dylan Balliett

False Advertising is a collection of recent illustrations, comic strips, and single panel gag comics by Dylan Balliett.

The Fishes’ Ball By Priscilla Boatwright

A locket. A fisherman. A steed. The Fishes’ Ball is a short tale about a man who descends to the bottom of a lake in search of his beloved.

CAB 2017 Debuts Part Two: More exciting comics to fill your brains and shelves Yet more amazing comics debuting at tomorrow' Comic Arts Brooklyn show! Roopert August Lipp Revival House…

#CAB 2017 #Debuts #News #Top News

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