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orange-waterfalls · 4 years ago

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Vampire!Reader x Markiplier Egos

ty anon for the request

A/N: YES. IT'S BEEN A WHILE. HAPPY FUCKING HALLOWEEN. I absolutely remembered today is the 1 year anniversary of ahwm absolutely this is not a coincidence what are you talking about ahahahahha. I've been busy w/ school and drawing and general depression and anxiety with the current situation but I'm getting back into it! Vampire reader. That's pretty much it. Rated T, a bit of cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of fangs. A slightly suggestive phrase but that's just Illinois like there has to be at least one with him it's the law. ALSO. NEW RULE? IF I'M DOING LIKE HCS OR SMTHN I WILL DO 6 AT A TIME. I CANNOT BE WRITING 14 DIFFERENT EGOS AT ONCE I JUST CAN'T I'M SORRY. anyways enjoy!

Vampire!Reader x Egos Headcanons

General

Not much PDA

Not much going out in general

You have to cover your whole body when you do, unless it’s nighttime

You spend much of your time inside or in the forest

You’re basically nocturnal

You do drink blood, and you don’t need a lot of it

You drink human blood only if they give permission

You don’t kill people

You know or know of some other supernatural creatures that exist

You are friends with a werewolf. One specifically. You know the one.

Darkiplier

You both are edgy as all hell it’s perfect!

Politely asks you not to bite him

a) because he’s not human and b) because it’ll hurt

You both are very calm and well-spoken. So. not much happens.

However, you are both, in fact, dumb bitches, so things are still entertaining

“My darling, would you like some garli-mmm nevermind...”

You go out with him sometimes on romantic moonlit walks

You don’t have to wear as much then

You make him get a pet, a black cat specifically

He loves it

You named it Darko, Dark for short, and he hates the name

Like he hates the name a lot

It is irrational how much he hates the fucking name

He calls it DA

He never explains why

When you want blood he’ll trap a deer or something

You go into the forest and drink a little of its blood

He’s surprised

“What am I, a werewolf?”

He’ll ask you about supernatural creatures, and how to defend against them

You’re pretty sure he’s an eldritch entity so you aren’t sure why he’s asking YOU

He won’t ask how you became a vampire, that seems personal

He never gets startled when you turn into a bat

He can hear your lil wingbeats from a mile away

Sometimes you’ll sleep as a bat and he just smiles at you hanging from the fan

Fine with you not interacting with others, like he does much of that…

Just likes hanging out in your fucking giant victorian mansion with you

Wilford

We all know that his type is, in fact, edgy bitch

Therefore, you are perfect

Dark clothes? Check

Edgy backstory? Probably

Kinda scary? Oh absolutely

And he loves you for that!

He doesn’t want to be a vampire, but he fuckin loves your teeth

He’ll ask you to bare them and then he’ll do a happy wiggle afterwards

He loves dancing with you, slow or fast

It’s always romantic

He’s basically a god so like. Anything you ask for he’s gotchu

You said you were hungry and he fucking kidnapped someone

You said you were hungry, that was on you

You then explain that you don’t need a whole FUCKING PERSON

He then steals some blood bags from the hospital

“Oh, calm down! They have enough!”

Likes taking you out, so you go on night walks a lot.

You’re not used to social interaction, so he makes sure to steer you away from people

Unless you want to talk to them, then he starts up a conversation and lets you take over

You don’t understand people, and neither does he! It’s great.

Likes when you turn into a bat

He doesn’t know why, it just makes him happy

You made him adopt a black cat

He named it Colonel Whiskers

Loves you and your castle and your weird ass little quirks

Actor

Bite him.

BITE. HIM.

LET HIM BE IMMORTAL

You refuse for the sole reason that he is a dick.

You do get along because you both are, in fact, pretentious

You wear those silk robes around the house, and he gets mad at you

HE is the sexy mysterious one, COME ON!

At least you won’t have an edgier backstory than him…

Likes slow dancing with you

Very much enjoys your Aesthetic

Believes that he too belongs in a Victorian era castle isolated from the world

Loves the dark romance

Is a Fancy Boy

Was fully prepared to murder someone for you to drink their blood

Surprised when you said it wasn’t necessary???

Buys a horse or smthn

Asks about supernatural beings and which are immortal

He asks that a lot

He worries you sometimes.

Hates it when you turn into a bat

You’re small and you fly around and you’re fucking GROSS

He doesn’t. He doesn’t like animals very much. Besides dogs I mean.

Buys you clothes because you’ve been wearing the same shit for fucking EVER

Don’t worry, they’re all black, dark purple, or dark red

Sometimes you decide to go on a walk and he tags along

Possessive bitch

Thinks you’ll leave him if you talk to other people

He scares them or leads you away

Was fine with a black wolfdog you brought home after searching for food

Names it Phoenix, and you call it Nix for short

Is deeply in love with you, but will never say or show it

Yancy

He thinks you’re wonderful!

Originally a bit mean to you

He thought YOU thought you were better than him

He saw the fangs and backed off

He asked about them and you answered, so you got along

Asked if he could be a vampire

You asked if he wanted to be immortal. He declined.

Suggested you drink his blood when you were hungry

You said it wasn’t necessary, but he pushed

Stared at you the whole time

“what’s your issue” “this is very… intimate.”

On that note: has an issue with intimacy

You’re very cold naturally, so you’d want to cuddle

He awkwardly shifts away

Once he gets more comfortable, he might cuddle with you

Loves the silk robes you own, they’re so fucking COMFY

AND THE SILK SHEETS?? Heaven

Absolutely loves all the fancy shit you have

You teach him how to waltz and he teaches you how to tap dance

You have a very equal give and take relationship with everything, it’s great

Neither of you like social interaction

You will if you HAVE to but mostly keep to yourselves

You love Yancy's prison buddies

They love you too

Asked if you knew mothman

You couldn’t tell if he was joking

He absolutely Was Not joking

He sings to you sometimes

It echoes through the place and the Aesthetic man

Hates it when you turn into a bat

Bad. No. Stop. Scary.

A small animal flying at him is a no go

Alternatively: get him a pet dog and he will love you forever

He names it Elvis. Yeah you know why.

Overall loves you and your aesthetic, and you could tell even before you got together

Illinois

Excited but doesn't show it

He's met PLENTY of supernatural creatures

Ghosts, gods, there was a thing with that werewolf one time…

(He has the scars to prove it)

But a vampire? That's new

He doesn’t live at your place because he travels a lot

He still stays there sometimes between adventures

Uncomfortable with how clean it is

You are. An immortal being. And you take the time to clean. What the fuck.

“Would YOU wanna spend eternity in a dusty ass mansion?”

His flirts are often about your fangs

You threatened to bite him and he said “promise?”

Said you could drink his blood, but you said no

“I don’t know what the fuck you got in that bloodstream”

Doesn’t do walks but takes you on adventures

If it’s a cave. And you turn into a bat.

ONLY if you turn into a bat

Sidenote: he fucking adores when you turn into a bat

He just thinks they’re neat

Uncomfortable with how soft everything you own is

NOTHING is soft in nature

Except. Like a lot of things. But don’t tell him he’ll get mad

Doesn’t really want a pet bc he’ll never be home to deal with it

He’ll be fine if you get one though

He wants to name it Nathan Drake he doesn’t care what it is

NERD(see: Uncharted)

Will never EVER wear a fucking suit

He will DIE before he wears a suit fuck you

Dislikes anything remotely fancy

Talks about the creatures he’s met

you get Bard Vibes if ya know what i mean wink wink nudge nudge he's a whore is what I'm saying here

You hang out normally mostly

He refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you

Not after the mermaid incident.

He eventually will, i promise

Magnum

He’s a pirate, he doesn’t care

He’s seen sirens, ancient spirits, probably Davey Jones at some point

A vampire? Low on the list of dangerous creatures

He has a whole ship made outta wood he’s not that worried

You don't really sail with him often

When you do, you're seen as a threat to anyone and everyone

He loves that about you

Warned you not to bite him or he'd stake you

You promised not to and that was enough for him

You get along with the crew fairly well

However do NOT turn into a bat around them

They will not hesitate to shoot

"UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT, MAN YOUR BATTLESTATIONS!

You can maybe do it around Magnum and only Magnum

Doesn't like your house

He belongs to the sea

But can and will steal your sheets for himself

A pirate can have a little silk, as a treat

Offered his crew's blood to drink after a while

You declined because you don't know what the fuck kinda diseases they have

Doesn't really want a pet. He can't tell them what to do.

You bought an axolotl and he loves it a lot

Its name is Delta but he has deemed it Magnum Jr

Can't really. Fit. In any suits you have

He has to go out and get one personally tailored if he wants it

Likes dancing with you

Slow dancing. To Danny Boy.

He can't dance but that's ok he tries

You talk about land creatures and he talks about ocean creatures

So far he despises werewolves and skinwalkers

He likes spending as much time with you possible

He doesn't much like the idea of a relationship bc of his uh line of work

But he loves you

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chilling-seavey · 4 years ago

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Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter One

A/N Hey there, ladies and gents! It’s time to be swept away into an alternate universe where 1950s LA is the place to be. This is my first ever soulmate au and it took a lot of planning to make everything fit just right so I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: It’s 1958 and summer has just begun, sending the teenagers of Los Angeles into warm weather freedoms and part time jobs. Eighteen-year-old Daniel finds himself spending his days trying to find his soulmate and he refuses to give up until he has her.

Los Angeles in 1958 was a thriving city of luxury and fame; housing many of the greats and certainly more to come in upscale Beverly Hills mansions with top dollar views. They lived in their own worlds in the coastal city; unbothered by the working class with 9-5 jobs and single-family bungalows in the suburbs. To the everyday person, life in Los Angeles was more than nice with the beach on one side, the mountains on the other, and enough cultural entertainment to hardly ever be bored. People were happy you could argue and, in a sense that was true. Happy that they were able to settle down in that warm American Dream with the one they were destined to be with. Their soulmate.

This wasn’t a world full of lonesome heartbreak – unless one would choose to live that way – as everyone was assigned someone that they were meant to be with. By their eighteenth birthday, strange habits started to arise where you could taste whatever your soulmate was eating at any given time. It started faintly the day of your eighteenth birthday, as just a light sensation on your tongue, sort of like what it feels like to have a craving for a specific type of food. As weeks progressed it became more pronounced until after a month or so you could taste nearly exactly what they were eating as if you were eating it yourself.

It was something to get used to at first, but it was reality, and everyone went about their day to day lives with this invisible connection to the one they were destined to be with. Some people never found their soulmate – after all, the world had a population of almost three billion, so the odds weren’t always on your side – but eighteen-year-old Daniel refused to let that be his fate.

The second the clock hit midnight on April 2nd, 1958, Daniel shut his eyes really tightly in his bed and swirled his tongue around his mouth to try and taste something. You see, he was in love with the idea of love for as long as he could remember, and he had been counting down the days until he turned eighteen since he was old enough to know what numbers were. His parents had that perfect love story; high school sweethearts in 1935 where his father knew she was the one from the first week he turned eighteen, married and expecting their first child by 1936 and had three boys with a baby girl on the way before his father was drafted into the war in 1942. His father returned home in 1945 just as in love with his mother than ever before and the rest was history. Daniel wanted a story just like his parents; one where it all just fell into place.

The two-and-a-half months from the day Daniel turned eighteen to his high school graduation gave him absolutely no clue as to who his soulmate was. He tried scrounging the cafeteria at lunch time to see if any of the girls were eating that turkey sandwich he could taste or drinking that cold bottle of Coca-Cola, but he was met with no luck again and again. His soulmate seemed to eat something different everyday for each meal, but he soon came to realize that the only consistent thing was strawberry milkshakes. Usually around the time Daniel got off the school bus at home he’d lick his lips with the sweet flavour of strawberry and whipped cream that was rolling its way along his tongue.

He was just glad it wasn’t chocolate. He hated chocolate.

On the first real day of summer vacation, after graduation and their final high school dance, Daniel was staring out his bedroom window towards the street, impatiently waiting to see his older brother’s shiny red Thunderbird turning onto their street. Sure enough, he got a glimpse of the shiny red sports car in the distance and with an excited gasp, Daniel took off for the stairs.

“Christian’s home!” he shouted through the house, hopping the last three stairs and whipped open the front door just as the car pulled into the driveway.

He jumped off the porch as his parents came out of the house behind him and Daniel rushed to set his hands on the pretty red hood of the car that was still warm from the long drive from upstate.

The tired nineteen-year-old stepped out from the driver’s side and pulled off his sunglasses to offer a dimpled smile to his family, “Hey, you guys. What’s shaking?”

“Christian! How was college?” Daniel asked with a grin.

“Just swell, little brother. Why don’t you come help me bring my things upstairs? I have something for you.”

Daniel absolutely idolized his older brother, so he didn’t need to be asked twice to carry his things. As Christian headed for the porch to greet his mother with a kiss to her cheek and his father with a handshake, Daniel opened the trunk of the car to unload the bags. Out of the four Seavey children, Christian and Daniel were closest in age; Christian was only four months old when their parents fell pregnant with Daniel; leaving the two boys at only thirteen months apart. This made them very close and they shared a bedroom up until their oldest brother Tyler moved out for college a few years before. It was safe to say that when Christian was next to leave for school, Daniel had a hard time adjusting to life in the house without him.

But he was finally back, dressed in his usual slicked back dark brown hair and finished with a leather jacket. Leather was never usually Christian’s choice and Daniel let his eyes linger on the back of his brother’s jacket as he helped him carry his things upstairs to his room.

Christian stopped in the doorway to the left at the top of the stairs, poking his head into the light pink painted room, “Hey, ankle biter, I’m back. Did ya miss me?”

Their younger sister, Anna - a moody force to be reckoned with at fifteen - glanced up from her magazine she was reading on her bed, her record player playing quietly from on top of her dresser, “Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“Did you get that Elvis guy to marry you yet?”

“Oh, shut up, Chris.” Anna blushed, throwing one of her stuffed animals at him before getting up to slam the door in his face.

Christian glanced back at Daniel with a small smile before heading into the room adjacent to toss his bag on his bed. Daniel set his suitcase by his closet and leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“What’s with the new getup?” Daniel finally asked.

“Oh, this old thing?” Christian grinned, pulling at the hem of his leather jacket. “A buddy in the dorms threw this little bash back in the fall and there were all these swell guys there talking about this new fashion tread. Said it was what everyone’s doing now. I think it looks pretty good, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” Christian scoffed. “Well something’s coming to you of this whole business too.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The guys got me a job at the car shop upstate for the year, I made a bit of dough, fixed up some wheels, and I’m even transferred to another shop down here for the summer. But with the big bucks I made since the fall I can afford a new car.”

“That’s great, Chris.” Daniel said slowly, unsure of where his brother was going with that.

“So I want you to have my T-Bird.” Christian tossed over the keys.

Daniel tried to grab them in his shock but fumbled them and they fell to the carpet. He bent down quickly to pick them up, “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope. Car’s all yours. That or I’ll resell it but I know you’ve had your eye on it since I first got it.”

“Yeah! Oh, boy! Thank you!” Daniel grinned.

“Only thing I ask is that you tell me how your birthday went.” Christian smirked, flopping back onto his bed. He leaned back against the headboard with his hands tucked behind his head and his shoes resting up on his bag.

Daniel bit back a small smile, sitting gently at the end of his older brother’s bed, the car keys still in hand, “It was nice. Mom made me a cake. Vanilla, of course. And I had a few friends over to watch a movie on tv and we ordered a pizza.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Christian kicked him with the toe of his shoe lightly.

Daniel’s whole family knew about how excited he was to turn eighteen, solely for the purpose of finally being able to find his soulmate. The younger brother blushed lightly through a smile.

“I haven’t found her yet. But she likes strawberry milkshakes.”

“Strawberry? Well, thank God it’s not chocolate or you’d be miserable.” Christian chuckled. “Think she goes to your school?”

“I dunno. High school’s over anyway. But I want to try and find her this summer. She’s gotta be in the city, right?”

“It’s a big city, little bro.” Christian said.

“You’ll help me, right?”

“I gotta work.” Christian shrugged. “Besides, I gave up on that junk.”

“That junk? Finding your soulmate?” Daniel frowned over at him. He thought back to the late-night talks in their shared bedroom when they were nine and ten, sitting up facing each other on their adjacent twin size beds, talking about what it would be like to grow up and find their soulmates.

Christian hummed, sliding his tongue over his lips and in his mouth, an obvious unaware habit that meant his soulmate was eating something right then. Daniel wondered what he could taste.

Christian clicked his tongue and sat up with a deep inhale as if to pull himself out of his own thoughts, “Yeah, no use stressing yourself over it. Plenty of swell birds around to find, right?”

“I guess.” Daniel mumbled.

“I gotta unpack my things. Why don’t you take the car for a spin before dinner?” Christian suggested, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Sure.” Daniel stood up, glancing down at the keys in his hand. “Thanks again.”

Christian only sent him a dimpled grin and Daniel left his brother’s room without another word. He walked down the stairs and to the front door, calling over his shoulder to his parents that he would be back in a little bit before heading for the driveway. Daniel hopped over the door of the convertible and settled into the red leather seats with his hands falling gently against the steering wheel. He let a small smile come to his lips as the engine roared to life and the familiar taste of strawberry milkshakes grazed his tongue.

#daniel seavey #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we #christian seavey #why dont we music #wdw #why dont we fanfic #seavey #au #soulmate au #daniel seavey imagines #why dont we imagines #🍓

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 4 years ago

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Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfic (Chapter II)

Summary: Chapter two is a little plot heavier than Chapter 1. Javier wakes up the next morning after the raid he had attended as a consultant for the DEA and the questions he avoided during the night are still very much unanswered and Isa, his wife, needs to know more about what’s going on. The second part of the chapter is in the past so we get to know how Javi got to be a consultant and how this affect his family life.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Domestic Javi!, fluff, implied sexy times. Spanish and thoughts in cursive, translations are between parenthesis right after the dialogue line.

A/N: Hey, thanks to everybody that liked and reblogued. I was a bit weary of uploading this ‘cos this fic feels more like a characters study than any other thing. I’m just fascinated by Javi, from this chapter plot will move faster. S.

Chapter 1

Double life

"Daddy, wake up" Elvira grabs her father's arm that rests languidly at the side of the bed and shakes it until he answers:

“Morning" his face smashed against the pillows and his brown hair disheveled

"Good morning" she kisses him on the cheek and stays really close to his face, still pretty much asleep Javi starts snorting softly again “Daddy wake up!”

"You're hungry?" Javier clears his throat and opens widely his eyes as to convince his body that it has to get up. Elvi grins at him, with those honey eyes and that crooked smile she is the cutest creature on earth.

"You lost another one" he points at her mouth

"Yeah, yesterday, it was moving really funny so mami convinced me to get it out. I didn't even cry!" She tells proudly

"Such a strong girl! Let's get you a good breakfast then, what do you want?"

She smirks devilish and looks over Javier’s shoulder to make sure her mother doesn’t hear, but she finds her laying on bed completely naked and she seems puzzled for a second

"Why is mummy naked?"

"Oh" Javier pushes the covers over Isa that sleeps soundly. "You want those sugary things...the captain..."

"Cap’n Crunch!" Elvira raises her small arms excited

"Yeah, let's get those"

Javier adjusts his underwear under the sheets making sure everything is in place and gets out of bed. He lifts Elvira to his chest while she giggles.

"I love you, daddy" she holds his face on his little hands and he thinks his heart is about to explode.

"I love you too" Javier kisses her forehead, resting his child's head on his just for a second. He feels how the tangles around his heart become undone with her small, warm body against his. Everything seems kinder, happier, like if all of the sudden sunshine had pierced him deep inside where he hid his fears, regrets and pain.

He smells her hair for a second and then leaves her gently on the ground

"Let's eat"

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The light between the curtains is like a knife to her eyes even under the covers. Her body is exhausted, her muscles relaxed and unwilling to cooperate to get her up. Isabel had heard her daughter’s laughter but thought that Javier could handle the situation and make up for the time he had expend who knows where the day before.

She doesn’t complain about being busy all the time with Elvira, she actually really likes it and is dreading the moment when summer will be over and she’ll have to spend the day alone with Elvi being at school. But every day she finishes the daily routines tired and instantly falling asleep when she goes to bed, after juggling between doing the chores and entertaining her daughter. It has been months since Javier’s head was elsewhere.

Knowing she is not gaining any more sleep, she gets up. The heat of Texas comes through the glass windows and she feels that even as naked as she is she could melt.

Isa puts on one of the big, old, soft t-shirts that Javier rarely uses and a pair of his shorts. Wearing his clothes, with his scent still lingering on them, is one small solace she finds when he’s away. She takes her nightgown and panties and throws them in the laundry bin, seeing Javier‘s clothes from last night, she grabs them and inspects the pockets before throwing it with the rest of clothes. She finds a few coins, a pen and a half emptied Marlboro packet that she squeezes on her hand. Maldito veneno (Damned poison)

At the kitchen table, Elvira is telling every single detail of her pool day at the neighbor’s house that Javier had missed. When Isa arrives, she hugs her daughter from behind and kisses her head before grabbing a cup of coffee from the kitchen counter.

"Look, daddy prepared breakfast" she says stuffing her mouth with those multicolored cereals.

"Oh, I see, he grabbed a bowl, poured the cereal and the milk and voilà." She kneels beside her but is smiling directly at Javier. “Daddy of the year” she raises her cup and Javi smacks his lips but says nothing.

"No me diste los buenos días, princesa" (You didn’t say good morning to me, princess) Isabel holds Elvira’s hair and starts to untangle her mane with her fingers.

"Buenos días, mami" she kisses her leaving a sticky mark on her skin.

"After that you will eat a piece of fruit, me oiste?"

"Sí" she smiles engulfing another full spoon too big for her little mouth .

"And I don't get a good morning?" Javier adds looking at his wife over the cup of black coffee.

Isabel walks slowly towards him and brushes her lips on his forehead. She opens her right hand in front of him, the Marlboro packet squished inside.

"Morning"

With a dramatic gesture, she opens the trash can and throws the plastic packet angrily. Javi observes her but says nothing.

"You're mad at daddy?" Elvira asks looking between the two her little face concerned.

"A little" Isa responds

"Why?" Her little voice breaks

"I misbehaved. I didn't listen to your mother" Javier answers and pinches his kid chubby cheek softly “That’s why you have to listen to her always”

"Have you apologized?" Elvira leaves the bowl aside as to fully focus on this pressing matter and crosses her arms over the table

"I have, many times" Javier faces his wife with a smirk

"Twice" she clarifies “and they're not enough"

"Never" Javier sips coffee from his cup and winks at his wife. Elvira looks at them confused.

"Mami if he has apologized I think you have to forgive him"

“Yeah, I guess I have to" Isabel takes a sit at Javier's right side and holds his hand on hers. The simple golden ring in both their hands makes her feel a pinch on her heart, she was so young and so scared when they got married not knowing what she could expect from him and, and on top of that, having a newborn baby that demanded all her attention.

Now, 6 years later she can even begin to express how fiercely she loves her daughter and how all the sacrifices she made were all worthy for her beautiful baby.

Javier is another thing. Sometimes she thinks of him as the sea, something you can see, touch and be submerged in, but in the end there is a depth you are not able to understand. There are things that lie on the bottom of his heart and mind that she is not welcome to visit. And she loves him, and has an ardent passion and need for him but she feels as if he’s slipping through her fingers every time she tries to hold him.

"Can I finish breakfast watching TV, please?" Elvi’s question gets Isa out of her thoughts.

"Yes, but grab an apple"

The little girl jumps out of her chair already chanting some song she knows from her favorite cartoon show.

"So what was the operation that you had last night?"

Isa usually asks him about his job every morning and Javi always answers briefly without many details, mainly because he is not that interested but when he decided to counsel for the police, she started to insist more, trying to calm her worries, but Isabel grows more and more anxious with his vague answers. She had met him after leaving the DEA, and though he hadn’t told her about his life in Colombia, she knows that Javi was a broken man, lost in dark memories. In those six years of marriage he had been better, he was still the same, but he smiled more, was kinder, more open. But the shadow of his old self lurks through the house and Isa feels how her anxiety twists her stomach watching his husband crumble before her eyes.

"There were a few trucks passing the borders, they suspected they were hiding drugs” he finished his coffee and casually eats cereal from the box

"Why on earth would you be there at the moment they caught the transport? I mean, why were you on the raid?"

"You’re asking if I was ever in danger. The answer is no, I'm here, am I not?" Javi took her hand that still holds him and kisses her knuckles.

"Yes, you are, but my question is..."

"But" he sighs

"You're smoking again; you are not sleeping quite right. You think I haven't noticed? What is going on?"

"I'm fine"

"You're stressed"

"I said I'm fine"

"Then why are you back to the old habits?"

"You really are going to just drink a coffee for breakfast?"

"Don't change the conversation, Peña"

"Look, there's nothing to worry about. I was just there to help them out since I’m experienced” he turns the chair closer to her and poses his hands over her knees softly caressing her with the pads of his fingers “But everything is fine”

"Alright" she concedes "so is it done? The operation?" She looks at him from under her eyelashes

"I don't know, maybe they need me a few more times"

She’s about to say something when he presses his lips against hers and gets up saying "I'm going to see if I can repair the AC, it's fucking hot in here"

"Language" Isa says before he leaves the kitchen.

She finishes the coffee her gaze fixed on the trash can where she has thrown the cigarettes. Too nervous to eat anything she starts cleaning up the kitchen. The lasagna from last night still intact on the counter, the repetitive songs on the TV is loud and she feels the headache coming.

“Elvi turn it down, please!” The girl ignores her the first time, and a second...and a third time.

“¡Elvira Peña, baja la tele ahora mismo!” (Elvira Peña, turn down the TV right now!) She screams coming to the living room.

The kid pouts and turns it down looking angrily at her; the apple she took is still intact by her side “And eat your fruit!”

Gosh, this is what I’ve become, the annoying wife and the tiring mum

Javier doesn’t know many things, but one thing that is always true is that shit follows him like a dog after a bone at every step of his life. After all the chaos that occurred with Cali and him leaving the DEA, he had spent a few month with Chucho back in Laredo. But soon enough, the atmosphere grew thicker consuming the air in his lungs and he woke up every day sweating and out of breath. Dreams of blood were leaking from the darkest parts of his memory polluting his nights.

“Mijo, ¿qué pasó allá?” (Son, what happened there?)his father asked every time and he found himself out of words. Not because he hadn’t them in him, but out of fear that if he began speaking the words would choke him and the disappointment he’d see on his father’s eyes. If they only knew he thought. If they only knew the things I did.

So after a time, he had to leave home again. It was better for both of them to be parted. Javier found the most boring job out there with his skills: Consulting companies that imported and exported things from Latin America. He translated documents, made calls in Spanish, and basically died a little every day in an office job, with bad coffee from a machine and many cigarettes each day to cope with the absolute weariness.

But again, shit followed him. StarsTextile Exports INC, nothing more than a normal company that passed, apparently, textile goods from South America to the US but you just had to dig a little to see the shady numbers they managed, a tangled list of companies’ names and banks in various tax havens. When he untangled all that mess what was left was a clear link to the biggest Cartel in Mexico. Shit. He even thought for a moment to let it pass, to just turn a blind eye like everybody did. But after many sleepless nights, he made the call.

“Agent Murphy”

“Hi, Steve, it’s Javier” he said softly suddenly feeling a little embarrassed of the time that had passed without calling his friend.

“Jav?!” Steve exclaimed “it’s been a long time...H-h-ow are you?”

“Fine, fine, you?”

“Great, I’m in Miami. But why you call me at the office? You alright?” he asked with a concerned tone.

“Yeah, it’s...well, maybe it’s nothing. But I need you to take a look at something”

“What exactly do you want me to check?”

“Some documents, I’ll send them to you”

“Great. Where are you now? Still at your pops?”

“No, well. I’m in Texas but I live with my wife.”

“Wait! what! you said wife?!” he exclaimed

“Yeah, yeah. Long story”

Javier had to hear his old college laugh for a good five minutes before he could say another word.

“I need to meet her. Gosh, I can’t believe it. Connie is gonna die when I tell her”

“Yeah...”

“Listen, I know you didn’t want to talk about you getting out and everything but I’d love to talk if you want. You know that...”

“I’ll send the documents right away, okay? You can call me at this number whenever you have any conclusion” he interrupted.

“Alright, Javi. It’s good to know from you. I’ll check those out”

Immediately after hanging up the phone, Javier felt like shit. He hadn’t contacted Steve, a good friend, in a long time. He knows his big out of the DEA would be a matter of a long conversation with him, a conversation he doesn’t want to have as he doesn’t want to tell all that to Chucho or Isa. Those days were gone, that crap was far away, he repeats to himself knowing that his memories have dark claws that hang on him like his shadow, reopening wounds he thought were healed.

After that brief phonecall, more followed. Steve and Javi found a perfect hour to talk when both Connie and Olivia and Isa and Elvi were asleep. They chatted about the documents, clearly there was something weird and Steve, though he could not confide anything to a former agent, agreed to disclosure tiny details. The DEA was behind StarsTextile Exports from months, but anytime they came close, they would hide again with dubious moves like changing company names, CEO’s and corporate headquarters.

“I see your instinct is still intact, Jav. You should still be with us” lamented Steve in one of their midnight conversations

“Yeah...but what can we do? nothing” Javi huffed

“We’ll see, I keep you informed”

“Yeah, thanks” he agreed but a little voice inside him replied why do you care? why do you still care?

“So, can you tell me about your wife? Connie keeps asking me for more information” Steve asked

“Her name is Isabel. She’s younger than me”

“Nice! Is she pretty?” the agent jested

“She is. We met at a bar; she was bartending for the summer while she was off college. I had just arrived after Cali” he explained

“She must be quite special. I mean, Jav...you left another at the altar” Steve replied shyly

“Well, that was another time and yes, she is...she is...a good woman and a good mother” Javi lay down on the sofa and turned his face towards the aisle, he could see the dim light of Isa’s nightstand lamp still on. She was always waiting for him to come to bed.

“How long did you wait to have the kid?”

“We didn’t. She got pregnant unexpectedly and then we got married” Javi sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh! I don’t want to be indiscreet, but that’s why you married her?” Steve muttered

“Kinda, but as I said she’s an amazing woman”

“Are you happy?” Steve cut him

“What is this? Are you my therapist now?” Javi chuckled

“No! no! just Connie, well, Connie and I, we worried, we wanted to know if things were okay with you. It’s been a long time, Javi, and the things we saw... well, we’ve been through some shit”

“I’m fine” his voice cracked, the more he said those words the less meaning they got

“Fine, God, Javi Peña, a family man, I still can’t believe it”

Javi smiled

“Yeah me too”

“But it’s nice, it keeps you grounded. Now you have a place to come back”

“Right...”

And also thousands of questions, expectations, and nowhere to hide when all I want to do is be alone, he thought but didn’t say another word.

“It’s late and I don’t want to wake up the girls” he said before biding goodbye to Steve and promising to keep in touch.

A week after that conversation, Steve told him about the operation that the DEA was preparing at the frontier near Laredo. And last night, he rejoined the agents just as a consultant. But again shit followed him and they asked him to be present and advice in case they needed him.

Even though he was far up on a hill with a few other agents waiting for the transport to arrive, he heard clearly the gunshots and they left him with a terrible headache and a familiar yet horrible ring in his ears. He felt his heart beating hard and fast inside his chest. The rush, the thrill and the fear all very well-known to the old Javier and he could sense a part of him suddenly awake, begging for more, the tingling sensation on his muscles that he was doing what he was made for. It scared him. He had decided that he was through it all. He could not be back, but there he was, lecturing those agents, finding evidences where they looked clueless. He was made for this, and though he didn’t like the praise, he hadn’t felt as good about himself until that night.

But the DEA asked for more, always does. He had given them his all and they paid him with lies. But again he said yes to keep on going with this partnership and teach the field agents and give some advice on how you take down a cartel. Like if we actually won the war on drugs, like if we actually made things better

With all these, he kept Isa in the dark, giving just vague answers about who call him late at night and about what was going on at his job.

The look in her amber colored eyes breaks his heart with each lie he tells her. She had met a broken man in Laredo many summers ago, he never said anything really specific about his time in Colombia, but Isa was perceptive enough to see his cracks and shadows and everything he wanted to hide. She had lighted his life like a timid candle in the night, opening the darkest rooms of his mind and inundating them with her presence and comfort and domestic life.

There was no space for the old Javi, always running and burying his demons in alcohol, sex and cigarettes, in this new reality there were bills to pay, school supplies, family duties and morning conversations.

And at that moment, “family guy” Javi and the “ex-DEA but again working for the DEA” Javi were battling inside his mind making him feel like he was living a double life.

Half of him wishes to stay, go to the pool with Elvi, Sundays at his father’s house and hold Isa tight every night; but there again, the air grows thicker, the days are long and he misses the rush, the thrill, the only way of life he had known for so long.

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña FanFic #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Narcos Netflix #Narcos #Narcos fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

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wordsandshawn · 6 years ago

Note

"It took really long for me to convince her to record a song with me because she don't think she can sing even though she has a beautiful voice and it was even harder to convince her to be part of the music video. She's really shy around everyone but especially in front of cameras. But this colaboration ended up being my favorite ever and I'm really proud of her." Please? 😍💜💜💜

“You said it was just for fun.” You tell Shawn as soon as he answers the phone call. When you saw his text he sent you asking if you would mind recording the song you wrote together, you called him immediately.

“It was, but it’s so good, y/n.” He responds. You know that he’s in the studio today, so he’s probably going over his voice notes, trying to figure out what to record. He must have come across the little snippet of the song you two wrote together a couple of months ago. You were at his condo. It was a lazy night, one of your favorite kinds of nights with Shawn. You drank some wine and ate takeout because neither of you wanted to cook. The song just kind of happened. You’re not a singer or a songwriter, not even close. That’s Shawn’s thing, and you’re glad to support him, but that’s about as involved as you’ll get, which is why you really thought that the song was never going to see the light of day.

You think for a moment before responding. “You can record it. I don’t mind.” You’ve already told him this before. When you wrote the song, Shawn insisted it was just for you, something you could keep forever to remember that night by. When you realized that it actually turned out to be really good, you told Shawn you didn’t mind if he recorded it, you just didn’t want to.

“But I want to record it with you. If not, I don’t want to do it.” He responds, saying the same thing he said the last time you told him he could record it.

“Shawn, I’m not a singer. You don’t need me to do the song.” You respond. “Really, you should do it, though.”

“It’s our song, babe. I won’t do it without you. You’re not ready and that’s okay. It’ll still be there if you ever are. I just thought I’d ask again since I found it again when I was trying to decide what to work on tonight.” He doesn’t sound upset at all. He won’t pressure you into doing something you don’t want to, whether it’s recording a song or anything else, which is something you love about him.

“I’m sorry.” You respond.

“It’s okay, I love you. Okay? I can’t wait to see you this weekend.”

“I love you too.”

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” You say hesitantly as you’re standing in the booth with the big headphones on. This is all so unfamiliar to you, but Shawn has been by your side the entire time.

“You sound amazing. It’s turning out great so far.” Shawn responds. He leans in closer to you, dropping his voice. “You’re doing great.” He encourages you.

You nod, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. Its intimidating to be standing here next to Shawn. You’ve spent many hours on the couch in the corner watching Shawn record, but being inside the booth is a whole different experience. “Okay, I’m ready to try it again.”

“Let’s go from the chorus.” Shawn says, both to you and to everyone watching through the window. Teddy nods, and gives you a thumbs up as the music starts playing through your headphones. Shawn isn’t recording right now, but he’s still standing beside you in the booth. He takes your hand, giving it a squeeze as you take one last breath before singing.

Shawn was on the Elvis Duran show yesterday. He’s out in New York doing press for his new album. The new album that includes the song you did together. You honestly weren’t sure if the song would make the final cut for the album. Shawn recorded way too many songs to fit on the album, and there were so many good ones. Shawn was confident from the beginning that your song would make the cut. It was one of the most important ones to him, so knew he wanted it on the album. You really liked the song. You just weren’t sure how people would react to a song with you on it. You’re not in the entertainment business, so most people don’t know who you are at all or if they do, they just know you as Shawn’s girlfriend.

Normally, that doesn’t bother you, but this is putting yourself out there in a new way, and you’re just hoping you don’t get bombarded by hate. Either way, this week is about Shawn and about his album, so that’s what you’re trying to focus on more than anything.

So far, what has surprised you is how much fans have been speculating about this song since the tracklist was released. It seems like they’re most excited for it out of all of the songs on the album, and that makes you even more nervous.

After the interview yesterday, Shawn told you that he talked about the song because Elvis asked about it. Shawn did a few other interviews yesterday, and he told you they all kept asking about that one song in particular. He was more than happy to talk about it, he was just warning you and checking in with you to make sure you were okay with it all, though, because he knew you were hesitant.

You woke up from a text from Shawn this morning, Morning babe, the Elvis interview is up on YouTube. Call me?

You call him immediately. As you wait for him to answer the FaceTime, you lean over to grab your laptop that was resting on your desk near your bed. Opening it up, you start typing in YouTube.

“Good morning!” Shawn says when the call connects.

“You’re up early.” You respond, noticing that he’s sitting in a van.

“Yeah, more press.” He responds with a shrug.

“Three days.” You say, talking about when his album is being released, “You excited?”

“I’m so freakin excited. And nervous.”

“Yeah, me too.” You respond. For once, you can really relate to Shawn. You’ve always been nervous when Shawn has an album come out, but this time, you feel like you’re releasing a piece of yourself to the world. This is how Shawn probably feels all the time.

“I know they’re going to love that song. Did you watch the interview? Hear me talk about you?” He says with eyebrows raised.

“Not yet, I’m about to watch it now.”

“It’s toward the beginning, so you don’t have to watch the whole thing.” He says.

“Okay, I mean I’d rather talk to you than listen to you talk to someone else. I just want to listen to the one part. Hold on.” You say, clicking the video and watching intently as the interview begins.

“So there’s been a lot of talk about one song in particular.” Elvis says, and you feel your cheeks heat up, knowing that they’re about to talk about the song. “Your girlfriend, y/n y/l/n is on a song with you. Is she a singer?”

Shawn smiles widely at the mention of your name, “It took really long for me to convince her to record a song with me because she doesn’t think she can sing even though she has a beautiful voice and it was even harder to convince her to be part of the music video. She’s really shy around everyone but especially in front of cameras. But this collaboration ended up being my favorite ever and I’m really proud of her."

“We’re really excited to hear it. There’s a music video? Is it a single then?”

“There is a music video, one of my favorites I’ve ever shot. It is going to be a single, and the music video will be released on the same day as the album, so four days.” Shawn responds.

Elvis starts asking another question, and you pause the video, turning your attention back to Shawn who is still sitting in the car, staring at you through the phone. “What did you think?” He questions.

“You told everyone I was shy. I’m not shy.” You respond because in most ways you’re not.

“You’re shy when it comes to your voice. They need to know how difficult this was to get you to do.” Shawn says, his voice light, joking.

“I honestly can’t believe we did it. And the music video.” You say, smiling at the memory. As scary as it was for you to put yourself out there, it was one of the best days ever. Shawn actually pitched the original idea for the video, and it’s something you two brainstormed together. It’s a love song of course, so you and Shawn basically got a few cameramen to follow you around for a day where you guys just got to hang out together and do all of your favorite things.

“The music video is my favorite thing I’ve ever done.” He says. You’re still lost in thought about the video and the song when Shawn says, “I have to go, babe. We’re here. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye, see you tomorrow!”

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes imagine

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ofcrofts · 5 years ago

Text

『JOE KEERY ❙ CIS MALE』 ⟿ looks like ELVIE CROFT is here for HIS FIRST GRAD year as a LAW student. HE is 23 years old & known to be LOYAL, OPEN-MINDED, SCATTERBRAINED & OBSTREPEROUS. they’re living in NOLAND, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ SAM. 23. EST. SHE/HER.

hey there demons! *ba dum tss* i’m sam and elvie is one of my favorite muses, so i hope you like him too and please feel free to message me if you would like to plot!

i. stats

𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊: elvin tupelo croft

𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘: el, elvie, the ghost guy

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓: salem, massachusetts yes, really

𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖍: october 31, 1996 yes, really

𝖟𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖈: scorpio

𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: demisexual

𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖞: law

𝖕𝖔𝖘. 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: loyal, open - minded, exuberant.

𝖓𝖊𝖌. 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: scatterbrained, obstreperous, impulsive.

ii. history

elvin tupelo “elvie” croft was born in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ) on halloween day ( yes, really ). he’s an only child and his dad is the county district attorney while his mom owns a small local business that sells witchcraft supplies such as crystals, herbs, grimiores, etc. fun fact: she’s the descendant of an accused witch, meaning that elvie is as well.

he was five years old when he saw his first horror movie ( an apathetic teenage babysitter let him stay up long past his bedtime to watch nightmare on elm street ) and from that moment on he was hooked.

when he started school, two things about him became apparent: 1) he was highly intelligent and 2) he struggled greatly with tasks such as sitting still and staying focused. he was tested, and it turns out that he has a through the roof genius level iq and he also has adhd, which he was put on a few different medications for until something finally seemed to work for him.

he could have been one of those child prodigies who finished high school at the age of ten and then college at the age of fourteen, but his parents decided that they didn’t want him to miss out on the experience of going through school with people his own age.

as the smartest kid in class with glasses and braces and a strong obsession with all things horror and halloween, he…was picked on. mercilessly.

he didn’t really have friends, but he also didn’t mind. he was perfectly content to go right home after school and spend the rest of the day reading comic books or watching horror movies or researching local urban legends and paranormal stories.

he started his youtube channel when he was a teenager and it was…trash honestly. it was basically buzzfeed unsolved if buzzfeed unsolved consisted of one ( 1 ) dorky teenager yelling at the air in the middle of abandoned house at 3am could be two if his wc gets picked up wink wink, but it turned out that people found it entertaining. his first few videos were flops, but he would soon start amassing subscribers in the hundreds, then thousands, then hundreds of thousands.

so, when he got to his senior year of high school, he was a shoe - in to become the class valedictorian and he was even getting ivy league offers. at the same time, his youtube channel was starting to gain momentum. his parents mainly his father were really pushing him to attend college and elvie, genius level iq and all…didn’t want to go at all. he wanted to focus on his youtube channel, but his dad was absolutely not having it.

he was pre law at harvard while he was an undergrad but when it came time to start law school, he’d had enough of simply doing what his dad wanted and decided to go to radcliffe and he chose to do so solely because he heard it was haunted. he’s even living in noland because he figures that the oldest building = highest likelihood of ghosts.

this is his first year and second semester at radcliffe. he can usually be found not studying, smoking weed, and probably trying to get the campus witch to go out with him.

iii. extras

his name is elvin but basically no one ever calls him that. his own parents don’t even particularly like the name. long story. most people call him elvie and some who are super close to him just call him el.

while he is the “ryan” aka the believer of his youtube series, he’s definitely NOT a scaredy cat like ryan the poor guy. in fact, all his life there’s been this running joke that he doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything, and who knows? maybe he isn’t.

he’s kinda...acing all of his classes without even trying because he’s honestly just that smart but i cannot stress enough that he absolutely does not give a fuck about his classes. he HATES law school. he probably ditches as often as he can, but he doesn’t really push it because y’know attendance points.

he’s literally embarrassed of the fact that he went to harvard so he straight up lies and says that he went to salem state

he has slight Daddy Issues™. slight. when he was born, his dad was hoping that he would get a star athlete kid who would go on to follow in his footsteps and one day become a successful, respectable lawyer but instead he got…elvie. he’s never outright said that he’s disappointed but he didn’t need to. elvie’s a really difficult person to rattle but every time, without fail, he ends a phone call with his dad and he’s in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

he smokes A LOT of weed. like, A LOT OF WEED. like…A LOT of weed. he started off doing it every once in a while as a teenager, and now he’s always high. 99% of people he knows have most likely never seen or interacted with him when he wasn’t high.

he’s obsessed with all things horror, halloween, and 80s. he makes a lot of film references that are often so obscure that most people don’t even catch them.

he’s got jokes. lots of jokes. lots of self - deprecating jokes.

has a really thick boston accent that he doesn’t seem to realize he has.

most people don’t know how smart he really is because he intentionally plays dumb and he’s really good at it. being high all the time and his natural chaotic energy is quite helpful in hiding his intelligence. he just doesn’t like to be seen as smart, so the whole brilliant law student thing? not common knowledge whatsoever.

and yes, he has SO MUCH chaotic energy. he’s the kind of person who will stick a fork in his microwave just to see what would happen out of sheer boredom. he has two pet mexican redknee tarantulas that probably aren’t even allowed on campus named freddy and jason who he just…fucking loses track of every other day. his favorite drink is literally black coffee mixed together with a can of monster energy and 5 ( f i v e ) teaspoons of sugar. he is c h a o s. he has absolutely no impulse control whatsoever.

his car is this PIECE OF JUNK giant turquoise van that he painted to look like the mystery machine

he suffers from chronic nosebleeds that are usually triggered by stress, but he doesn’t get them that often.

he has a HUGE sweet tooth. his favorite food is halloween candy and his favorite candy is black licorice disgusting i know

he takes adderall for his adhd and it’s basically the only thing he’s really consistent and responsible about.

he’s good at…a lot of things because he’s a really fast learner. he can play the guitar, he can draw, he did drama in high school. he just has to watch someone do something once and then he can usually immediately do it himself. this skill doesn’t extend to physical activities such as sports, however. he’s terrible at those.

iv. wanted connections

best friend

friends

cousin ( their grandparents would probably be from boston but otherwise anything really goes for this )

smoking buddies lmao

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

peers he tutors for some extra money

maybe someone who knows how smart he really is

exes, etc.

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with these, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

#radintro #drugs tw #medication tw

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ellvie · 6 years ago

Photo

*laying on a pentagram* ROCK AND ROLL BUCKAROO! - elvie croft, probably

BASIC

FULL NAME: elvin tupelo croft NICKNAMES: el, elvie, spooky guy, captain AGE: twenty - four BIRTHDAY: october 31st, 1994 GENDER: cis male PRONOUNS: he / him

FAMILY

MOTHER: karla croft, shop owner FATHER: benton croft, district attorney for essex county, massachusetts SIBLINGS: technically n/a but basically margo and jupiter.

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES

FACE CLAIM: joe keery RACE/ETHNICITY: distantly english, distantly icelandic. NATIONALITY: american HEIGHT: 5′10′’ but lbr his hair makes him like 6′4′’ BUILD: lanky with slightly broader shoulders and some muscle in his arms. HAIR: unattainable. FACIAL HAIR: might have a little stubble sometimes but usually shaves it off right away. HAIR COLOR: brown EYE COLOR: brown DOMINANT HAND: right SCENT: doesn’t wear cologne, but always smells slightly of burning wood, licorice and autumn air. ACCENT: more bostonian than he realizes. has probably never pronounced an r properly in his life. FASHION: always wearing a quirky t shirt, usually with a flannel or members only jacket worn over them. paired with tattered jeans and the same green high top converse he’s been wearing since he finally his his last growth spurt. NERVOUS TICS: smokes cigarettes, might wipe at his nose to make sure it isn’t bleeding. QUIRKS: constantly fidgets, always wears mismatched socks, highly intelligent but purposely tries to hide it, o b s e s s e d with halloween, seemingly afraid of absolutely nothing, wears size fifteen shoes, perpetually trembling slightly due to overindulging in caffeine, says he can’t dance but it’s a lie, well and truly doesn’t care what people say about him.

LIFESTYLE

RESIDES: manhattan, new york BORN: salem, massachusetts RAISED: salem, massachusetts VEHICLE: a mystery machine, a green 1980s chevy sedan that might just be the biggest piece of junk still on the road, a black rolls royce ghost that he never drives. PETS: freddy and jason - tarantulas & harriet - lizard

HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION: completed, valedictorian COLLEGE EDUCATION: nyu, dropped out in his final year MAJOR: business administration, on the fast track to earning his mba and absolutely hated it. MINOR: accounting and absolutely hated it. CAREER: youtuber / paranormal investigator /television show host / movie theater owner OTHER: always seemed to excel in school without really trying

RELIGION: neopagan ( primarily wiccan ) BELIEFS: the law of return. anything & everything else. MISDEMEANORS: none technically FELONIES: n/a TICKETS AND/OR VIOLATIONS: lmao he is...the worst driver. i honestly don’t even know how he got a license so yeah he’s probably gotten a shit ton of tickets and traffic citations. DRUGS: yes / sometimes / no SMOKES: yes / sometimes / no ALCOHOL: yes, freshman beer pong champion / sometimes / no DIET: absolute garbage. mixes monster energy drinks and pure sugar into his coffee. his favorite food? halloween candy. has quite possibly never eaten a vegetable in his entire life.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: probably straight. MARTIAL STATUS: married to astrea croft. CHILDREN: see pets AVAILABILITY: may or may not be possessed by at least one ancient immortal demon.

LANGUAGES: english, sarcasm, 80s references, and a little bit of icelandic.

PHOBIAS: elvie croft isn’t afraid of a n y t h i n g. HOBBIES: solving mysterious, provoking demons, scaring people, tweeting, watching movies, climbing trees, expanding his grimoire, collecting ouija boards, filming youtube videos, bothering margo. 5 POSITIVE TRAITS: driven, jocund, insightful, perfervid, dauntless. 5 NEGATIVE TRAITS: impulsive, sarcastic, hyperactive, credulous, uncouth.

FAVOURITE

LOCATION: salem, massachusetts. SPORTS TEAM: gryffindor quidditch. GAME: dungeons and dragons or call of cthulu SONG: spellbound - siouxsie and the banshees SHOWS: the twilight zone, the addams family, the munsters, night gallery, alfred hitchcock presents, scooby doo, doctor who, kolchak the night stalker, beetlejuice, goosebumps, are you afraid of the dark, the x files, courage the cowardly dog, danny phantom, the grim adventures of billy and mandy, supernatural, peter parker. MOVIES: here. FOOD: halloween candy. BEVERAGE: black dunkin’ donuts coffee mixed with a whole can of monster and loaded with sugar. COLOR: orange, green, purple, the blue of astrea’s eyes.

CHARACTER

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good - “a chaotic good character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him. he makes his own way, but he's kind and benevolent. he believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations. he hates it when people try to intimidate others and tell them what to do. he follows his own moral compass, which, although good, may not agree with that of society.” MBTI: esfp, the entertainer - “spontaneous, energetic, and enthusiastic people. life is never boring around them.” ENNEAGRAM: type 7, the enthusiast - “sevens are extroverted, optimistic, versatile, and spontaneous. playful, high-spirited, and practical, they can also misapply their many talents, becoming over-extended, scattered, and undisciplined. they constantly seek new and exciting experiences, but can become distracted and exhausted by staying on the go. they typically have problems with impatience and impulsiveness. at their best: they focus their talents on worthwhile goals, becoming appreciative, joyous, and satisfied.” TEMPERAMENT: sanguine WESTERN ZODIAC: scorpio CHINESE ZODIAC: year of the dog HOGWARTS HOUSE: gryffindor SONG: the lonely life of the ufo researcher by tullycraft and ghost party by oh!hello IDEOLOGIES: halloween is always and karma will sort out every problem.

#excesstask006 #× ❪ ⸰ about elvie. ⸰ ❫#this is a whole shitpost

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mamavirtuemoir · 7 years ago

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Stars on Ice, Hamilton

So as some of you may know I had the pleasure of going to the Hamilton SOI tonight and it was great.

I will try to recall as much as I can. I did film a few things, but tried to stay in the moment as much as possible. So that means that I am drawing from memory and there were a lot (a lot a lot) to take in.

I would like to preface my take on the night, by saying that I have been to multiple Worlds through the years. One of which was the 2016 Worlds in Boston. Besides being a huge Tessa and Scott fan for years, I have been a skating fan for even longer than both of them have been alive. So to get to see so many world champions (and of course Olympic Champions) in one show was really something super emotional for me.

Some highlights

Meagan and Eric’s program really got a huge response tonight. With a well deserved standing Ovation at the end. The memories of me cheering so hard for them in Boston and crying when the got gold came rushing back to me. They were entertaining and fun.

Javier Fernandez was another skater I was lucky enough to see win gold in Boston. His first program was a little shaky and had to have a retake at the end of the show. But his second program was emotional and engaging. Sometimes Javi seems to go for humor, this program went for depth. I felt it for sure.

Gabby Daleman was shaky in her first program, but kill the Whitney number later.

And Kaitlyn Osmond was welcomed in to the World Champions club by all the rest of the world Champs, which was sweet. Her jumps are so powerful and magnificent.

Elvis was entertaining and botched his lutz and had to do another retake at the end. As did Jeffery Buttle. He just feels every note and fills the program. It is so clear why he is such a talented choreographer.

Weapo’s better program was definitely the Tennessee Whiskey program. People seemed to like it.

On a side note, number that they did with Tessa was short but sweet. I have decided that Tessa just makes everyone look better (by that I am not trying to say that Weapo looked bad without her - please don’t come for me). She really does have something magical about her somehow.

Patrick Chan... there is just no singles skater like him. I always find him amazing, but every time I see him skate in person it reminds me how quickly I forget how much more he really is. It just does not come across when you see him skate on TV. His glide and flow is completely unmatched by anyone (so the chan-flation people can go stuff it). It cannot be explained. He covers so much ice in a few strokes and seems to gain speed during transitions. He just makes me so emotional when I watch him skate live. It has to be experience.

Fields of Gold was another big moment - standing ovation again for the Gold medal winners.

I also loved Meagan and Eric’s number with Patrick. They final lift off ice was great.

Now Tessa and Scott...How can I even begin. It was some night for sure. Those two will have me emotionally drained and I still have to drive back home tomorrow for more than 8 hours.

First off - I posted the MJ program. It was fun and flirty. In shapes of you, they were over the top as usual. Scott’s mouth on Tessa’s shoulder and Tessa grabbing the nape of Scott’s neck. You know --- Usual Standard Business Practice.

There were are a lot of kisses and arm stroking. Stolen glances and smiling. I am hoping that people with better seats than I captured that. The family next to me were discussing when they would get married, which I found funny. Someone else mentioned to them that according to Scott they were not romantically involved. The dad actually snorted and rolled his eyes. I had to turn away, to stop myself from laughing.

MR was everything I hoped for. This is the main reason I decided to make the long journey. I wanted to get a chance to see some form of the the program live. It is never the same on TV. And it was worth the trip. It was glorious.

And the I will be found with the entire cast was also super emotional (it does not help that I just saw Dear, Evan Hansen a few months ago - and I ugly, snot bubble, cried at that show).

But as if my shipping heart had not already seized from all the PDA from Scott and Tessa all night. They had to freaking go an do the whole get married stunt that still gets me wound up. WHY DO THEY DO THIS? Scott could have just ignored it. A person yelled it out, but it could have been ignored. It was not so obnoxiously loud that it could not be ignored. But NOOOOOO....... Scott ‘platonic skating partner’ Moir had to repeat the request with his microphone so that the entire arena could hear it too. And then the sweet Tessa and captain of our ship had to pretend to kneel down. I think I saw spots in front of my eyes. Thank god I had the where with all to record some of that. I actually had to rewatch that clip as I was leaving the arena just to make sure that actually happened. They were out there to fill time, because they had to do some retakes for the TV recording.

We got quiet a few retakes. The boys number was a bit of a mess the first time around so they had to do the whole thing over again. I am not 100% sure what happened, but I think Eric got tangled up with the boom arm from the TV camera that was in the corner were I was sitting.

All in all - it was a glorious night. I am so glad I took the time to come see it live. There really is no substitute.

#tessa and scott #Csoi2018 #patrick chan #meagan and eric #kaitlyn osmond #javier fernandez #my experience

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duallygirl178 · 4 years ago

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Dearest O'Malley Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Gladys got too old to drive, I began to get antsy for a workout. Gladys retired in 1980 and by 1992; Nathan was born in Farmington New Mexico. I was handed over to Joe Popplewell to be driven and just to be a back up guy. Joe sure couldn’t drive me because he had to look so far up and out passed the hood to see the road, which frustrated him to the max. When I got a good look at Nathan as a baby. I was filled with joy. I’ve never been a father but at least I got to see what a baby is and what it looked like. Jan and Randy sure went through some trouble and back just to save him. I had heard something was going on with his heart or something that he had to be rushed to the Albuquerque hospital. I distinctively remember that I sure was worried-to-parts about this baby needing to be put in the ER. I smoked so many Pyramid full flavor 100 cigarettes that it took at least 8 butts just to calm me down. I had my suspicions that if Nathan never made it alive, I would be beaten down by Erik who was soon to be a careless pain in my prat and I would never see my life happy again. I was nervous that I wanted to know how the baby was doing. I had became so determined to hear the news on Nathan that I made a nasty habit of smoking cigarettes every day. When the day that Nathan came home, I was so relieved to know he was okay. After Nathan’s recovery, I knew I could quit smoking but I craved a butt and the taste drew me into an unhealthy lifestyle. I tried leaning towards working out and other distractions that was healthy but I wanted a cigarette. Finally, Joe got me on a quitter’s cycle; gum, patches, and hemp seed oil. It worked! I didn’t crave nicotine. When Jan would drive and smoke butts inside me, I didn’t even want a cig. At this time, Jan was working and living at Acacia Street, I was the only transportation Jan and Randy borrowed just until Jan had the resources to get another car. One morning, on my good mood, I was cruising down the road whistling “King of the whole wide world” by Elvis Presley, when people started to stare at me. I would just smile and wink just because I was in a good mood. While Jan was cleaning a house for a couple just down the road, I was waiting on the curb minding my own business. I seemed to be interesting to the sight of a glossy blue 1968 blue Chevrolet Impala. She seemed to be really interested. I was somewhat interested in her because I could tell when a female is interested in me because when she’s looking my way, she finds faults and quirks endearing and she realized my attraction was something she could learn. She had that sweet smell of heated oil and exhaust fumes radiating off her tailpipe. She had serious eyes for me that summer of 1993. The fumes caressed around my tailpipe and it made me feel crazy. Her name was Emma-Sue as she was leaning into me while she came closer into my personal space. She put on quite a revving roaring mating call with her huge V8 motor rumbled as she circled me. I held still as she was looking me over while I was getting a drippy stiffy. I was enjoying this interesting female’s attention and when Jan was all done cleaning house, the moment disappeared. Emma-Sue stopped and went back to the driveway. Jan got in and started me up steadily. Emma-Sue watched me leave until I was far away. I knew she was going to sneak over to my driveway to make heat and romance raise up tonight. Still in joy, I listened to many songs about love on tapes that included Elvis.

Many years into the future, it was the 15th year of that summer, I still hadn’t heard from Gonzo nor have I seen him. I missed him. I remembered when was Nathan was 2 years old, I had began to read him children’s stories using my talented voice to role in the characters even though I knew well that they had their dark origins when they were told. Boy, I really could entertain him when I did the right voices, and I loved it when Nathan laughed. It brought the flow of delight in my weekend days. While the parents were at work and Nathan was a curious little creature. He and I were spending time together and like every other two year old, Nathan pulled off one of my do-haws on the dashboard. It hurt but innocence comes in small packages. It was aright, I had pulled a few whiskers from my old man’s face and that’s just because I was a baby and wondered if the hairs would come off. When I would spend time with Nathan and when, I felt like I was already a dad. Nathan had started talking and he had called me “Papa” once a few times. Those were the days that were good to me.

Randy would drive me with Nathan along and the three of us would scoot ourselves into town when the parents had an off day. It was rare that Randy would take me out to town but we always had fun. I’d get comments of “I like your car” and “Nice car” which was aright. Every other day, I would get a car wash on my birthday and get detailed in August. I got wool seat covers one year on my birthday. After those days, I didn’t really care about presents on my birthdays. While Nathan was first home schooled, I’d sit in the carport to protect me from the weather’s rain and storms. I would always be up here once or twice a month to keep Ozzy company. Back in 2000, Joe bought him from PESCO, a place where he used to work at. Ozzy was a 1991 Ford explorer just sitting in the parking lot. He basically was used for lifting Carol in and out because Carol couldn’t stand on her feet any longer. Ozzy was there for the job. I had no envy towards Ozzy and since he was a sweet little bugger, I got along better after a break from the hectic storm with the morons living outside. Before, I knew it Ozzy was my little roommate. When I asked Ozzy how much he was sold for, the results shocked me. He was 4 grand and like many old things, there has to be a second wheel to accompany the leader. Ozzy’s lift was very useful because every time, Carol had a doctor’s appointment, Ozzy just picked her up with his ramp and he was ready to scoot. I basically came up there to get away while Ol’ Reliable was giving me attitude. I’d be invited in and I’d park next to the fireplace. I watched a little bit of the news with Joe and Jimmy Swaggart with Carol for 30 minutes tops until I fall asleep. Every hour or so, I’d make myself at home on the couch. Sometimes Nathan would come up to visit and sit with me to check on things.

Some time that Fall, Randy couldn’t get me to start up because now that Jan had the resources to afford a secondary car. It was a Jeep Liberty that I didn’t like. Jan had a loan on it and that could lead to rough road later in the future. Randy had bought a Plymouth voyager van and that was all I could accept. But whenever Randy would visit Joe if I was giving him issues, Joe would come to the rescue. I liked Joe because he could fix anything. Often Joe would fuss at Randy because he smoked and asked him to quit. I knew Randy wanted to quit tobacco butts but he couldn’t give it up on how much he had to follow. Jan tried to get her husband to stop, but Randy was antsy to have a butt to smoke. At night, when I was ready to get back to Jan’s house, Nathan and Randy would watch TV together because he couldn’t sleep. I sure didn’t mind staying up late because I could sleep with noise. Even when Nathan had a school night. The couch I was just as comfy as a bed was.

I remember when Nathan was a kid and every Easter, I dressed my best, in that horrid bowtie. I had thought I would never wear it again as long as I lived. But it wasn’t the last time I wore it. I had to wear it again for occasions later. I also remember when Nathan got candy but tucked it away never to be seen again. He didn’t used to eat a lot of candy. I had been in my wild 30s and I had a tradition of burning a little rubber off for the spring seasons to hype up my jive. Each Monday was fill the fridge and cupboard day and which I had to carry 23 bags of groceries from the store and it was my work out for the week. I could always tell when it was time to go shopping. So one Monday night, I had just zoomed in loaded with groceries, I noticed my shocks were getting sore and bad as much as my wheel bearings were creaky but at least it was nice to see Miss Gizmo who was always there to greet everyone. Now for Tuesdays, which were my resting days to take it easy and do what I want. A day to recover. I got to relax at Randy’s work and take the weight off my sores and pains. Even though he worked at a quality building between Aztec and Bloomfield, Randy had gotten on SSI to help pay for his health and that took more of the pain off my joints. It was a matter of time before he could stop working and rest.

#chevy #creative_writing #novel #writing

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thehooliganhangoutspot · 7 years ago

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(Submission) ☝🏾Link to transcript of Bruno’s 60 minutes interview.

Bruno Mars on his artistry: “I’m working hard for this” He’s been broke, busted and nearly homeless. Now, as 60 Minutes’ Lara Logan reports, he’s on top of the music world

2016 Nov 20

The following script is from “Bruno Mars,” which aired on Nov. 20, 2016. Lara Logan is the correspondent. John Hamlin, producer.

Bruno Mars is one of the world’s biggest music stars and he’s one of the most driven people we’ve ever seen. Just 31, he’s the product of what he calls a “school of rock” education – a working class life of experiences that have taught him the music business. None of it came easily. He’s been broke, busted and nearly homeless. But this week, following the release of his first album in four years, he’s on top of the music world.

To show us how he got there, Bruno Mars did something he’s never done: he shared with us some of the toughest moments of his Hawaiian upbringing, and gave us the opportunity to witness his extraordinary skills as a songwriter and producer.

We begin with Bruno Mars, the entertainer.

Bruno Mars at Paradise Park, Hawaii AARON TOMLINSON/60 MINUTES This show in Connecticut last month was his first public concert of the year, and he used it as a tune-up for the release of his new album and world tour to follow. On every song and every note, from arenas to halftime of the Super Bowl, he and his band, The Hooligans, perform full throttle.

His standards are high because the legends of music set them.

Bruno Mars: I just really care about what people see. I want them to know that I’m working hard for this. The artists that I look up to like, you know, Michael, Prince, James Brown. You watch them and you understand that they’re paying attention to the details of their art. And they care so much about what they’re wearing, about how they’re moving, about how they’re making the audience feel. They’re not phoning it in. They’re going up there to murder anybody that performs after them or performs before them. That’s what I’ve watched my whole life and admired.

He is a throwback. You see it in the choreography on stage and hear it in the songs themselves. Descendants of the generations that came before him.

“I just really care about what people see. I want them to know that I’m working hard for this.” Bruno Mars Lara Logan: When I listen to your songs.

Bruno Mars: Uh-huh.

Lara Logan: You can hear all those people that you’ve listened to.

Bruno Mars: Yeah.

Lara Logan: Over the years.

Bruno Mars CBS NEWS Bruno Mars: A lot of people are really quick to say, “That song sounds like this.” Or you– “He’s tryin’ to sound like this.” And I’m always like, “You’re damn right I am. That’s how– that’s why we’re all here.” You know, we all grew up idolizing another musician. That’s how this works. That’s how music is created.

The musical education of Bruno Mars began in his hometown: Honolulu, Hawaii. He was born Peter Hernandez, to a Puerto Rican father and Filipino mother: parents who were professional musicians, performing together in the tourist showrooms of Waikiki Beach. Their act was called the “Love Notes” and when Bruno was four years old his parents included him in the family business. He played “Little Elvis” and it’s when he first learned he could steal the show.

The “Little Elvis” routine lasted six years. But the lessons of his parents’ Vegas-style Waikiki entertainment revue, have lasted a lifetime.

Bruno Mars: You know, it was, like, “School Of Rock” for me. And it was just this kind of razzle-dazzle lifestyle.

Lara Logan: That’s real showbiz.

Bruno Mars: Yeah, show business. You know?

Lara Logan: Right?

Bruno Mars: And if you wasn’t hitting those notes and the audience wasn’t freaking out, then you weren’t doing it right.

By the time he turned 12, his parents divorced and the family band broke up. Money was tight. His four sisters moved in with his mom. He and his brother lived with his dad…

Lara Logan: On top of this building?

Bruno Mars: On top of this building.

…anywhere they could.

Bruno Mars: My dad was just the king of finding these little spots for us to stay that we should never have been staying at.

Lara Logan: But you were, like, homeless people?

Bruno Mars: Yeah. No. Yeah, for sure. We was in a limousine at once. 1984 limousine.

Sleeping in the back of a car, on top of buildings, and this place…

Lara Logan: So this is where you lived?

…Paradise Park, a bird zoo where his dad took a job. This was the first time he’d been back here since. Even people who work with him haven’t heard this part of his story.

Bruno Mars: Where we were staying at first—

Lara Logan: Yeah.

Bruno Mars: –didn’t have a bathroom. So we’d have to walk across the park to this other spot that had a bathroom.

Lara Logan: Wow.

Bruno Mars: In the in–

Lara Logan: And sometimes in the middle of the night?

Bruno Mars: In the middle of the night.

When the park closed, they stayed, moving into this one-room building.

Lara Logan: This was your house?

Bruno Mars: Yeah.

They lived here for more than two years.

Bruno Mars: Just so people don’t think we’re crazy.

Lara Logan: Yeah.

Bruno Mars: It did not look like this.

Lara Logan: It had a roof?

Bruno Mars: It had a roof.

Lara Logan: It didn’t have plants growing inside.

Bruno Mars: It didn’t have plants growing inside. I don’t know what happened to the roof. But the bed would be right there in the middle.

Lara Logan: Yeah? And you’d all sleep in one bed?

Bruno Mars: We’d all sleep in one bed.

Lara Logan: Happy memories?

Bruno Mars: The best.

Lara Logan: That’s– is kind of amazing in that, what you remember about it is not the struggle or the things you didn’t have.

Bruno Mars: Nah—

Lara Logan: It’s all the things you had.

Bruno Mars: Yeah. We had it all, you know. We had each other and it never felt like it was the end of the world. “It’s alright we don’t got electric today. It’s alright. It’s temporary.” saying, “Well, we gonna figure this out.”Maybe that’s why I have this mentality when it comes to the music. ‘Cause I know I’m gonna figure– I’m gonna figure it out, just give me some time.

As soon as he graduated high school, he left the Waikiki showrooms and Hawaii altogether.

Lara Logan: You could’ve stayed here, right—

Bruno Mars: And be—

Lara Logan: –and you could—

Bruno Mars: –very happy.

Lara Logan: Yeah? And made a good living, and done what your dad did and been a big star in Hawaii?

Bruno Mars: I wanted to go for it.

Lara Logan: You wanted more?

Bruno Mars: I wanted more. And my family pushed me. And this island pushed me.

Lara Logan: How?

Bruno Mars: These are my people, and this is my culture, and I want to represent them. I want people to think of Hawaii and think of palm trees and magical islands and Bruno Mars.

So he headed for Los Angeles where he was quickly signed by Motown Records. Gone was his given name of Peter Hernandez, branding himself Bruno Mars instead.

“Bruno,” his childhood nickname, “Mars” shooting for the stars. The name stuck but the record contract didn’t. Motown dropped him.

Bruno Mars: I don’t blame Motown. I don’t– I– I was sim– it’s simply I wasn’t ready yet. I think everybody don’t know what color I am. It’s like, “He’s not black enough. He’s not white enough. He’s got a Latin last name but he doesn’t have– he doesn’t speak Spanish. Who are we selling this to? Are you making urban music? Are you making pop music? What kind of music are you making?”

With no hit songs of his own and dead broke, he started over, writing and producing songs for other artists with friends Ari Levine and Philip Lawrence. They were starving musicians. Inspired by the hustle just to pay for food, they came up with this song.

[Music from “Billionaire”]

It led to another record deal of his own. His career as a songwriter and performer was finally on track. About that time though, he was arrested for possession of two-and-a-half grams of cocaine.

Lara Logan: From the outside you really seem to keep it together and to be very professional and, you know, very committed but you nearly threw it all away.

Bruno Mars: I did something very stupid. I’m in Las Vegas, Lara. I’m 24 years old. I’m, you know, drinking way more than I’m supposed to be drinking and it was so early in my career and I always say that I think it had to happen. That was the reality check I needed and I’m– I promised myself that that, you know, you ain’t never gonna read about that again.

Headlines for hits, not drug busts have been his narrative ever since capped by two Super Bowl halftime performances in three years and three Grammys including “record of the year” for his collaboration with producer Mark Ronson, “Uptown Funk.” It’s the biggest hit in a career full of them.

Lara Logan: How difficult is it to write a song that’s great?

Bruno Mars: “Uptown Funk” took us almost a year to write. And there’s songs that taken– that’s taken us two hours to write. And we throw ‘em away. “Uptown Funk” was in the trashcan about 10 times.

Lara Logan: Really?

Bruno Mars: Yeah.

Lara Logan: Why?

Bruno Mars: ‘Cause we made a lot of, you know, you can make a left turn and all of a sudden this song is something terrible. Embarrassing almost. But you have this one thing that keeps you going. This one part of the song that feels so good and it makes you want to keep going. And it makes you want– “Ah, we should just try again. Let’s try again, let’s try again.”

He told us the conception of much of his music begins, in this California recording studio.

Bruno Mars: This is it, Lara.

Over the last two years he has been on lock down here trying to answer the challenge created from his run of big hits. Especially his last one.

Bruno Mars: This album, it was daunting, because coming off of “Uptown Funk” was like the biggest song I’ve ever been a part of. And then you’re like, alright, now what are you gonna do?

This is what he came up with. His new album, “24K Magic.” The title song, out just six weeks, is already another massive hit. He showed us how they built the song from the drums up.

“I was built for this…It’s dedicating yourself to your craft.” Bruno Mars Bruno Mars: That’s how it starts.

Lara Logan: And then?

Bruno Mars: Well come on, come on!

Bruno Mars: And then we could put some sparkle on it. Like put a little magic dust on it. Hear that?

Bruno Mars: Drums and base is locking, right?

Lara Logan: Yes.

Bruno Mars: Feel good yet?

Lara Logan: Yes!

Bruno Mars: Then you add the sauce, the secret sauce. You ready?

Bruno Mars: That’s it.

Bruno Mars: 24 Karat Magic!

Bruno Mars: Showtime! Guess who’s back again?

It’s easy to see that Bruno Mars loves the only job he’s ever wanted and that he’s still driven, to get it right.

Bruno Mars: I was built for this Lara. It’s dedicating yourself to your craft. Spending thousands of hours in a studio learning how to write a song, learning how to play different chords, training yourself to sing. You know, to get better and better.

Lara Logan: Are you there?

Bruno Mars: No. I’m not even close.

#Link #submission

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srseattlestreetnews · 8 years ago

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Seattle Street News 46, New Model Army

Announcement:

I, your trusty editor, am happy to welcome a new reporter, FooBar, into the Seattle Street News family. FooBar is an experienced digitally based reporter who’ll give us the skinny on the streets and back alleys only found in the Matrix. Welcome FooBar!

Corp News:

Ghost of Arislen the Sexiest Ghostie in the 6th World?

We all know the digital rag, the Weekly Wuxing Enquirer: your place for celebrity gossip and irregular sightings of Bat Boy. Everybody seems to read it…legally or not. It is ubiquitous. If you want to know if the lead singer of SuperUniverse is still dating Trid Star Alpha Omega, the Weekly Wuxing Enquirer is the place to go. If you want to know if the brain of Elvis (some 5th World Trid Star) has been uploaded into a biodrone that also looks like Marilyn Monroe (some other 5th World Trid Star), the Weekly Wuxing Enquirer is the place to go.

Every year the Weekly Wuxing Enquirer also has the Sexiest Entity in the 6th World competition. Now, I think we all knew who was most likely to win the competition this year: Alpha Omega. Alpha Omega has been everywhere this year. She was the star of the year’s biggest blockbuster trid: 52 Fast 52 Furious—Bourne’s Impossible Mission 92: The Revenge of Electric Boogaloo. She also had 13 hit singles, including “Love Song #87: Buy This Song! (The Very Edgy Remix).” In a mainstream digital rag? We all figured she was a lock for the win. If not her, then maybe Lofwyr again. Dragons always seem to win these things.

But when the announcement came out…it was not what you’d think. The Sexiest Entity in the 6th World turned out to be former gubernatorial candidate: The Ghost of Arislen. Now this is clearly absurd. The Ghost of Arislen is clearly not the Ghost of Arislen, that much was clear from the election. Who is the cyberjocky that is maintaining the Ghost of Arislen persona and spent their time trolling everyone during an election? Doesn’t really matter, does it? Don’t get me wrong, I do indeed want to know who the Matrix troll is, but that is not relevant to this moment. What is relevant to this moment is that after the Matrix, a bunch of hackers, deckers, and SINless became fans of Arislen. For people who couldn’t vote in the election, a clearly fake candidate trolling the norms, something so very absurd, became one of the few things that made sense in this broken city. Not exactly a gang, but more an anarchist fanclub. And they have been active posting ghostie graffiti all over town…you’ve seen the images.

And it seems, they’ve pulled off the ultimate troll. They have somehow hacked the Sexiest Entity Competition. And so now, the Sexiest Spirit of the 6th World is none other than Arislen’s Ghost. What does it mean in the end that such absurdities come to pass? Perhaps when they have nothing else and no other power, only the absurd makes sense. It may seem like a small victory, but think about it. Arislen’s Ghosties got “The Ghost of Arislen” named the Sexiest Spirit in the 6th World on the cover of the Weekly Wuxing Enquirer. Sometimes that sort of victory is enough.

Reflections on the Robotics Market

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

The Robotics market is a medium sized market in the Metroplex with a value of 137.3¥B. It is much bigger than Agriculture and almost as important. Food, the Matrix, Housing, and Robots. These are the cornerstones of 6th World survival. Similar to Agriculture, Robotics isn’t a very crowded field. The four corps with presence in Seattle’s Robotics are the dominant Saeder-Krupp (43%), second place Renraku (29.8%), Shiawase (19.3%), and finally Horizon (7.8%). Robotics covers so much of our lives, from SK’s Kegbots, to Renraku’s new wolf drones, to Horizon’s innovative use of robotics in entertainment and news, from their journalism drones to their film effects robots.

SSN reached out to all the corps with a Robotics presence but could get no comment from official sources—however, we are lucky to get a rather different sort of market analysis from one of Seattle’s premier financial analysts, Saeder-Krupp executive Vorack. Gentle readers will be asked to remember that Vorack is a brilliant analyst but also a member of Saeder-Krupp, and that offers special insight, but also a bit of a SK slant:

Vorack: Good ol Robotics, it’s used for a whole lot more than you would think! Of course there are your typical bipedal humanoid types, the ones you use as a chauffeur to drive you around or even that certain tutor-bot who can actually stand your brat of a child, and maybe someday will teach them how to be more than a god damn good for nothing nerfherding dwarf! Sorry about that, I personally recommend the KLERM as it is an amazing tutor. Then of course you got your fun bots, the ones used for more recreational goods and that just make lives easier. Be it keeping your brew nice and cold and bringing it to you while called, the ones you set up for Halloween for pranks and used to scare anyone that passes by! Or even the ones who can self ignite, throw on a batch of amazing sausages on itself, get em all nice and crisp and crackling and then serve them out, without you even needing to think about lighting a grill, and then having people complain because maybe just maybe you would like to socialize instead of paying full attention to a grill full of BeccaWurst, I’m sooooo sorry that they came out a little overcooked, I was busy being a good host for everyone else! Sorry again, that was uncalled for, but seriously that KEGbot is perfect at what it does, chilled to perfection. And then of course there are companion bots for those who just need a little extra companionship in their life. There is nothing wrong with having a bot sitting around that you can talk to and bounce ideas off of maybe sing you a song or two. There are so many other types of bots out there that I could write this whole article and still not mention even a fraction of them, that's what is so great about them. A good team of engineers can figure out a new way to make your robo act and then figure how to design them to make it work and Bam!, just like that, your life just got slightly easier as now you will never need to fold laundry again!

It’s weird to say but I owe my life to a robot, I can’t give out too many details but it was a certain group of individuals piloting some KEGbots, they were heading out to a party to keep it going and they found me and rescued me from that warehouse after I was kidnapped. If it wasn't for those bots, who knows if I would have been found and I hate the idea of that. [Editor’s Note: SSN Reporting indicated that Vorack was not rescued by a group of individuals heading out to a party, but a S-K Special Forces team using modified Kegbots as combat Mecha.] So ya the Robotics industry is kinda important. We make robots all the time to do tasks that are either way to dangerous for us to do ourselves or so repulsive that even an Ork won’t do! (That's a joke, I don't know if it came across right but I didn't mean anything by it, I mean no disrespect to the Ork community.) [Editor’s Note: Vorack’s views are Vorack’s and do not reflect the views of the Seattle Street News.] I guess it’s time I get to talking about the division and its players then huh? As of right now there are four corps in the Robotics market but there used to be another, sadly their products were of such low quality that we felt bad for them and bought them out entirely so they wouldn't cause any more harm. Right now us at SK are leading, followed by Renraku, Shiawase and then bringing up the rear is Horizon but they are newcomers to the field so that's to be expected. It has always been a growing industry with very few setbacks in general. There seemed to be an attack on a Renraku factory of some sort months back and while SK was attacked twice by NeoNET, one of those time NeoNET’s own robots, who they were using as the attacking force, ended up turning on each other and it was hilarious to watch and report on, man that was a good time. I was actually there for that strike, we actually roasted marshmallows over the burning wreckage of their robots, the wreckage they caused themselves! (The marshmallows didn't taste that great, I don't recommend cooking anything over a NeoNET product) God I love telling that story, I wish I had a Vid of it.

But no aside from those few issues and the one time a Horizon product backfired and went around broadcasting how corrupt their corp was and how they are using the media to control the masses, there have been almost no problems in robotics, just always going up and it doesn't look like it’s gonna stop. I personally wanna see more corporations get into robotics, maybe come up with some new fun ideas that will change up everything but as of now it’s just a really strong subsidiary with very little downside. Who doesn't want a robotic pet Stegosaurus, I know I wanted one as a little kid and now because of SK and their robotics division I have one and let me tell you, Snappy is an amazing pet.

Robotics are central to everything we do. Sometimes that might be good when it is a hacked medbot in that one alley in the Barrens where SINless can get a bit of aid, but sometimes it might be bad when it is a new fleet of oppressive Robocops stomping on SINless.

City News:

Galahad Academy Front for Child Kidnapping Ring?

The rash of SINless kidnappings, that caused so much outrage in the community, seems to have gotten some answers, and they aren’t pretty. The positive side is that they weren’t murdered by some serial killer. The down side is that they were preyed upon by some Ares scientists for immoral experimentation. Brother of one of the missing kids Sam Ortega, contacted SSN the other day to share some information.

It turns out a pair of Ares scientists, Margret and Foster Fitzgerald were enticing SINless metahumans with promises of SINs and scholarships to the Galahad academy, one of the infamous Ares Squire academies. Rather than a pathway to a new life, what they got instead was destructive experimentation. These Fitzgeralds seemed to be conducting surgeries on the children to make them seem human, suppressing their metatype. Rumors have it that it had to do with some sort of human supremacist program. Details are still forthcoming, but all signs are that this was about destroying these children’s selfhood, what made them special and beautiful, in exchange for…what? For the chance to be forever owned by some shadow organization hidden inside Ares?

Is this why Knight Errant was so slow in investigating the rash of kidnappings—because it was an inside job? I think it is not coincidental that Lt. Monroe, one of the most honest Knight Errant I’ve ever met was sidelined throughout the entire situation. Indeed, where is he now?

Fallout information on the scandal is very hard to find. Ares has moved into damage control mode. They have denied any knowledge of the experiments the Fitzgeralds were involved in, they certainly denied approving the program—indeed, they condemned the program in the strongest possible language. This is something we know. Things we don’t know? What happened to the Fitzgeralds and all the children deceived into their secret program. But we also know that Ares is cleaning house in the aftermath of the scandal. Soltysiak Kane, the President of the Galahad Academy and Order Master of the Squires of Galahad released a press release earlier today announcing that he would be stepping down from his position. He, in his press release, announced, “It has been my utmost pleasure over the past eighteen years to guide this prestigious Academy forward. However, in light of the recent revelations of Doctor Fitzgerald's reprehensible activities it has become clear that I am no longer fit to serve as your Order Master and President. It was my signature that allowed them into our Order, and my lack of oversight that allowed them to carry out their experiments on your fellow Squires. It's at times like these, that Squire Orders are most important. Though I shall be leaving this Academy in an Official capacity, I am now, and shall ever be, a Squire of Galahad.” The new President of Galahad and Master Squire is one Maritza Quartermane. Maritza Quartermane is a very symbolic choice. There are things about Quartermane you would expect. They are a graduate of the Galahad Academy. After graduation they distinguished themselves in service of Knight Errant, holding a variety of positions but being most well known for their work in Information Security. This is what Ares would tell you about Maritza Quartermane. What I’ll tell you about them is that they are an Ork. After a scandal involving human supremacy and unethical experimentation to suppress someone’s metahumanity, Ares has placed an Ork in charge of the Galahad Academy and the Squires Program. Is this an indicator of a more significant change in Ares? Let us hope so.

But for the moment, for Seattle, the most important thing is Liam has his brother back.

Emerald Rainbows—(by Demmalition1)

While walking along the streets pondering my next piece for this column I saw the most peculiar thing. I saw a man in a bright red shirt fidgeting with his commlink and sweating profusely, mumbling to himself about God knows what. I know this because that’s who he was mumbling to, God. He was having an argument with the most supreme being in the cosmos about his life and the direction that he took to land himself there. That’s right, God himself was standing over his shoulder shouting into his ear, and he being only a mere mortal was mumbling back what best he could. As the devout among us know, you don’t say “no” to Him, the one above all who created the Heavens and the Earth, the one who gave the breath of life into this universe and allowed mankind to degrade itself into its present state of corporatocracy and crony capitalism. However, you might give pause to what you’re being told if you were asked to “kill yourself for the betterment of mankind, you loser fuck. Just jump into traffic already!”.

Zachary DeWitt was a human who led a normal life for the first 30 or so years. He had a stable job with a loving troll husband and an adopted ork rescue child who supposedly was born in Germany near the SOX region. He was an analyst for some small-time accounting firm, going over numbers to find evidence of fraud and coverups. One day Zachary decided to go out with his friends after work to a dive bar for a few drinks. While there they all had a bit too much to drink, and too much alcohol can lead to some bad life decisions. Though the punishment varies, the decision Zachary was about to make would have ramifications far beyond his own life. He decided to slot a BTL chip in for the first time. It went downhill from there.

I sat down with Zachary at a nearby diner, a bit rundown but it was the closest thing not near a major intersection. Under the dim and flickering bulbs and over a hot bowl of soup he told me just what it was like to be a whole other person for a little while. He told me how amazing the high was, and how his ability to experience snowboarding down a mountainside grew to feeling the victory of his first underground heavyweight boxing championship. When he threw the knockout punch in the 8th round it was like being the king of the world, like being a dragon lording over a hoard of gold that was yours and yours alone. This progressed rapidly to wanting to know what the female orgasm felt like, to him experiencing the macabre thrill of his first robbery, to feel the joy of hurting someone, and finally culminating in the hollow revelry of killing an innocent person point-blank with a shotgun, taking glee as his victim’s guts splattered against the wall. But the high was fleeting, and Zachary was running out of money. The repeated trips down memory lanes not of his own were growing tiresome, and he needed something more, something of pure and utter passion.

That's when Zachary turned to other drugs, other drugs that would expand his mind and experiences: novacoke, cram, jazz, and even nitro. But even that wasn’t enough. The repeated exposure to the various personalities he inhabited and the false lives he lived started to make him paranoid, and he was developing the early stages of dissociative identity disorder even when not slotted in. His husband took their daughter after a while, he soon after lost his job and subsequently his UCAS SIN. These events caused him to plunge into the deep end of the drug trade to find the meanest, baddest drug around. Nitro wasn’t enough, he needed something more, something so permeable in its euphoric tendencies that not even Zachary himself could handle it. He turned to a new drug, a drug given the street name of “Little Apple”.

You may remember Little Apple was featured way back in SSN issue no. 32 when it started to inject its way into the bloodstream of the city. It has gone unchecked since then and has grown a small cult following in various underground circles. Users within this following are referred to as ‘fluffies’ on account of the fact that they appear outwardly friendly and sociable before degrading rapidly. The drug causes a euphoric feeling much like bliss, but has the added side effects of causing neurologically-based visual and auditory hallucinations. Users see lights, rainbows, and unicorns accompanied by friendly music before flipping on a dime and going into ranting manic episodes. The drug is highly addicting and causes these episodes to get worse and worse with each use. These episodes eventually reach a crescendo of constant depression, hallucinations, and even death by suicide, most commonly by people wandering into traffic with a glazed look in their eyes. Some, like Zachary, willingly throw themselves off of rooftops or into speeding traffic in order to stop the voices in their heads. And Little Apple, coupled with Zachary’s previous BTL-induced side effects was right at the cusp of snuffing his life as well.

Nothing is being done to help Zachary and the other SINless in Seattle. To those of you who are SINless and read this column, know that I care for and am fighting for you. You are powerless to change your situation, with no legal means of voting or working in this oppressively kleptocratic oligarchical corporatocracy. Something must be done for you. But for the rest of you with SINs, I know sure as Hell that you don’t give a damn about Zachary. If you did care for him you’d be calling your representative right now to complain. After all, Zachary is just one among the crowd of assholes who populate our homeless shelters eating up your hard-earned tax dollars. It’s Zachary’s fault he got into this, let him find his own way out in front of a bus going at high speeds. Yeah, that’ll end the drug problem one deranged person at a time. They don’t need our support, fuck em. But don’t say that about Uncle Earl, he needs all the support he can get, he’s just going through a rough patch is all. It’ll all work out in the end, I just know it.

If any of you SINners got out and looked at the state of our city, and I mean REALLY looked, you’d be outside your local Representative’s office screaming at the top of your lungs for reform. You’d want to help those who can’t help themselves, but you know what? Most people with SINs don’t go out and fight for a better tomorrow. They’d rather stay in the blissful reality of their lives going about their daily loop, aiming for the next big and juicy promotion. It’s the drug of choice, their promotion being the next hit to get high on life and ignoring all that’s wrong around them. They’d rather have life go around and around like a merry-go-round, distracted by the colorful lights and cheerful music until they grow old and drop dead. The only difference between life and Little Apple is that Little Apple does what it says on the tin, just a lot faster.

God help us all.

Ares Rolls Out Jack Booted RoboThugs To Invade Our Homes

Ares/Knight Errant recently announced something very disturbing for the SINless and their fellow travellers. In a press release Ares/Knight Errant have announced the roll out of a new product: the Lancer Humanoid Security Drone. It is a heavily armored “law enforcement” drone that is meant to keep the well off SINners “safe” from those of us protesting for justice and representation. They cited the rise of a protest movement that brought our new government and our new hopes as the reason they brought out these new inhuman and frightening forces of intimidation and violence. A representative said the purpose was to “keep us safe from protestors and anarchists.” But who is the “us”—certainly not unarmed and peaceful protester Pedro Tanaka who was shot by Knight Errant officer Augustus Ivan Polk. Certainly not me and certainly not you. They are labeling us all anarchists because we want to be able to walk down the street like anyone else.

The forces of backlash are rising and now a metal army is coming to our neighborhoods. Keep safe chummers. But keep inspired and keep empowered. Nevertheless, we will persist. Once awakened, we will not fall back to sleep.

Features:

Feedback Loop: Activity in the Arcology—(by Foobar)

Hello Digital Denizens; this is FooBar, your Sultan of Systems, coming to you from the heart of the Matrix. I’m here to bring you all 411 from the 0s and 1s, scoping the systems, and keeping an eye on the digital.

The now government run arcology known as ACHE has been a topic of a lot of debates, It’s walls being closed off, and its imports and inhabitants controlled. Nothing goes in and out of the arcology without the government’s notice.

Or so we thought.

Though information is obfuscated for anything within the arcology itself, import records show there is more need for supply within the closed system. Looking deeper, digital transactions within the arcology seems to be on the rise.

What’s more, connecting the data points paints an interesting picture. Over the last few weeks, there have been identical transactions to several of the arcology’s more independently run stores on a regular basis. What does this mean for the arcology? Is there a third party at play here, or just a coincidence of one of the more wealthy of the closed system’s regular habits?

If this is the work of an unknown benefactor we commend your actions toward the lesser man, trapped within a system they’re unable to escape. That’s all for your wave across the matrix today. Stay jacked in Jackrabbits, and keep an eye on the data.

Once More 6--(by Breach)

The 14th Amendment to the UCAS Constitution, ratified on September 4, 2036, gives birth to the System Identification Number - the SIN that we are SINless without. Some are SINless by choice. Some run SINless to escape the legacy of their SIN. Some are SINless because the system has failed them, ignored them, forgotten them. Other world governments would soon follow (some few preceded, though not in quite the same way), but many found themselves unable to avail themselves of the rights promised them.

Metahumans - especially orks and especially trolls - were often denied access to the procedures to register for a SIN, and on February 7th, 2039, the collected rage of the mass of metahumanity spilled over into the Night of Rage. The protests were global, unorganized, and sometimes messy. Hundreds died in the Seattle Metroplex, and I still remember watching, three days later, as the Sears Tower was destroyed in Chicago. Tens of thousands died in the attack and the fires that followed. Metahumans involved in the protests were framed for the attack - shadow sources know it was the work of the terrorist group Alamos 20,000, but official records have yet to be cleared.

In the decade that follows, metasapient rights would slowly grow. The Athabaskan Council, a member of the NAN, was one of the first nations in the world (and the first that is majority human) to recognize metasapients, declaring sasquatches to be a sapient species deserving of rights and citizenship. A rebirth of Eugenics in southern Germany was quickly squashed in a day by apparently magical intervention as yet another dormant volcano awakens. Yamatetsu, the Japanese megacorp that will later become Evo, gained a seat on the Corporate Court the same day Buttercup, a free spirit, became its largest single shareholder. The Great Dragon Dunkelzahn started the show Wyrm Talk, bridging the gap between dragons and metahumanity.

We all miss you, Big D. Rest in peace.

National power sees perhaps its last stand in the 40s; starting in 2044, Aztlan nationalized all resources and holdings, seizing corporate lands and claims from other nations (but not from Aztechnology.) Aztechnology’s position as a founding member gives it a veto on the Corporate Court, and it takes years of legal wrangling to get around it, but by 2048, the Court finally authorized Operation Reciprocity, allowing the other megacorporations to strike at Aztlan and Aztechnology with impunity in retaliation for the nationalization of assets. After just three days, Aztlan capitulates, and Aztechnology pays billions in reparations to the other megacorporations. Never again would a nation attempt to bar corporations from operating in their territory - sanctions have still been enacted against individual corporations, even the megas, but private industry proves its primacy over the public trust forevermore.

We didn’t know it at the time, but the foundation of the Universal Brotherhood in the California Free State in 2043 would send another shock to the world. It took a decade before we saw what was coming, and we’ll talk about that next week.

Questions about history? Ask Breach! [email protected]

Seattle Street News is an independent activist news source released weekly on Tuesdays or Wednesdays

[Watch CorporateSINs on every Wednesday, 6pm PST or on Youtube at, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h11c7BLFQtc&list=PLHKocVDXoWBtzze1SGGUnU6KB5UFrDLFo]

#CorpSINs #shadowrun #HyperRPG

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ethanalter · 8 years ago

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Roger Corman Revs Up 'Death Race 2050': 'We Have the First Picture to Portray Donald Trump as the President of the United States'

Roger Corman checks out a death trap vehicle for ‘Death Race 2050’ (Photo: Universal)

Roger Corman had already enjoyed a prolific (and lucrative) two-decade career as a B-movie auteur by the time a little movie called Death Race 2000 raced into theaters in 1975. But that instant cult hit, which was produced for less than $1 million and wound up grossing at least five times that, holds an exalted position in Corman’s filmography thanks to its fusion of grindhouse thrills and comedy club laughs. “I was trying to combine a car-racing picture with a little bit of social commentary, and a lot of humor,” Corman tells Yahoo Movies, calling us from, appropriately enough, a moving car.

Set in the then-far off future of 2000, the original Death Race imagined an America beset by civil strife and ruled by a totalitarian leader. The only thing that unites this United States of tomorrow is the Transcontinental Road Race, a turbo-charged dash from New York to Los Angeles. Its drivers are explicitly encouraged to let nothing — including citizens — come between them and victory. Seen today, the film still delights, and not just because it offers the opportunity to see David Carradine and a young Sylvester Stallone duel as competing drivers, Frankenstein and Machine Gun Joe. The movie is also an obvious influence on subsequent futuristic stories that seek to mingle bloody action and snarky satire, be it RoboCop or Demolition Man.

Simone Griffeth and David Carradine in ‘Death Race 2000’ (Photo: Everett)

Now, with the year 2000 long since in the rearview mirror, Corman, who turned 90 last spring, decided it was time to make a Death Race that wouldn’t be dated for another few decades. Enter Death Race 2050, the latest film produced by the “King of the B’s,” directed by G.J. Echternkamp. Available on Blu-ray and DVD on Jan. 17, the loose remake sets Frankenstein (now played by New Zealand action star Manu Bennett) down in the year 2050, when the USA has become a giant corporate conglomerate overseen by a despotic chairman (Malcolm McDowell) with an all-too-familiar hairdo. We spoke with Corman about taking Death Race back to the starting line, his time working with a young Jack Nicholson, and what happened with his infamous Fantastic Four movie.

Related: John Waters’ Five Favorite Roger Corman Movies

Prior to Death Race 2050, the Death Race franchise was revived as a 2008 feature by Paul W.S. Anderson followed by a series of direct-to-DVD spin-offs. What were your contributions to those versions? My work as a producer on those was almost zero. They gave me the script to the first one, and the others, and asked for my notes on the first one, but other than that I had no actual function. But I know Paul Anderson and I know what he was doing [with Death Race]. He was going for a straight action picture, which was what the first draft of Death Race 2000 was as well. When I read it, I thought there was something missing, and that’s when I came up with the idea of the drivers’ killing of the pedestrians, as a way to integrate the public with the violent sport that they love. But you couldn’t take that too seriously, so that’s when I introduced the element of comedy. When I called Universal about [their plans for] Death Race, I told them that [satire] was really essential to the original idea. So they asked me if I would like to make one. I went back to the original idea and here we are.

‘Death Race 2050’ (Photo: Universal)

The film satirizes a number of contemporary social issues including climate change, terrorism, and corporate greed. What we tried to do is take the same themes that were in the original and project them to 2050. So the United States of America has become the United Corporations of America, and the president is also the chairman. And here we got a little bit lucky. While we were shooting, we thought, “Why don’t we give the president a Donald Trump hairdo?” It wasn’t in the script, and we never dreamed he would actually become the president! So, we can say we have the first picture to portray Donald Trump as the president of the United States.

‘Death Race 2050’: Welcome to Death Race:

yahoo

We also tried to pick drivers who would reflect certain aspects of today. My favorite driver, other than Frankenstein, is Tammy the Terrorist. That name just came to me, and then we tried to figure out who she might be. I didn’t want to get involved with ISIS or anything like that, so I made her into the high priestess of a new religion whose saints are Elvis Presley and Justin Bieber and so forth.

Death Race 2050 mixes the low-fi elements of the original — the practical cars, for example — with modern day technology like CGI. Having observed the rise of digital effects firsthand, how do you feel about its impact on the industry? It’s helpful when it’s used well. Jim Cameron, who started doing some of this stuff when he worked with me making the special effects on our low-budget sci-fi films, uses them correctly. He did it beautifully on Avatar, for example. The only objection I have is when computer graphics take over and the story suffers.

Have you noticed a difference between the generation of young directors raised in the digital effects age versus the young directors you worked with in the ‘60s and ‘70s? I think the basic art of motion pictures has been known for a long time. The difference I see in young directors now is that they are integrating more effects, which can be done well or not as well. They’re also cutting faster. If you look at a picture made just 20 or 30 years ago, you will see shots held on the screen a little bit longer, and sometimes a whole lot longer, than they are today. There’s also more camera movement, which is due to the introduction of the Steadicam, and the fact that cameras have become lighter and more portable. I was looking at La La Land the other day, and that first shot on the freeway is an amazing technical achievement. It’s all over the freeway and there’s not a cut in it. It must have taken them a week! It’s a virtuoso use of the camera.

‘Death Race 2050’ (Photo: Universal)

Turning to your own work as a director, the Edgar Allan Poe films you made are so much fun to watch. Are those the movies you’re proudest of? I’m proud of most of them! Some didn’t turn out quite as well as I’d hoped. [Laughs] Some of those stories were no longer than two pages, so we expanded them. For example, “The Pit and the Pendulum” was only about the pit and the pendulum. So we used the story as the third act, and then tried to write the first and second acts in ways we thought would be faithful to Poe’s vision.

Do you have any good Jack Nicholson stories from your early collaborations with him? Jack was a very good writer, and he wrote a number of scripts for me. When I made The Trip, about an LSD experience, I chose him to co-write the script. As a conscious director, I took a trip myself and had a spectacularly wonderful experience. Afterwards, we talked about the script and I said, “If this is based on my trip, it’s going to be an advertisement for LSD.” And Jack said, “Don’t worry — I had a couple of bad ones. We can put it all together.”

Director Roger Corman (left) with actor Bruce Dern during the making of ‘The Trip’ (Photo: Getty Images)

When I saw the recent animated documentary Tower — about the 1966 University of Texas shootings — I instantly thought of Targets, the film Peter Bogdanavich made for you, which was a fictionalized version of that tragedy. I’m very proud of Targets. It was Peter’s first film, and I think it’s a semi-forgotten film. After we made it, I sold it to Paramount and they got worried about the connection to the Tower shootings and postponed the release, before only giving it a limited release. I’ve always thought that was a mistake on their part. They had a brilliant little picture and it should have gotten more of a release.

In general, distribution appears to be one of the bigger challenges facing films today. In the ’60s and ’70s, your movies always seemed to find a theatrical release. When I started, every film that was decently made got full theatrical distribution. Today, they’ve frozen the lower budgeted films out. Death Race 2050 is a big budget film for me, but for Universal it’s low budget. With a few exceptions, all of these lower-budgeted films are released on DVD or Netflix now. It’s unfortunate, because I like to primarily see films in theaters, but that’s the way the industry is — it’s an art and a business.

Roger Corman’s ‘Fantastic Four’ (Photo: Uncork’d Entertainment)

It’s worth noting that you are associated with the one of the most famous unreleased films of all time: the 1994 version of The Fantastic Four. That was the weirdest production I was ever involved in! A German producer [Bernd Eichinger] came to me saying he had an option on a Fantastic Four movie and a $30 million budget, but his option expired on December 31. This was in October! He said, “Can you take this script and make it for less money?” I said, “How much money do you have?” and he replied, “A million dollars.” Cutting $29 million out of a $30 million budget is a pretty big cut! We actually did start the film on schedule, and I always thought it was a good little picture. But my deal with Bernd stipulated that he had a certain amount of time before its release to sell it to a major studio. He did sell it, but part of the condition [of the sale] was that they didn’t want a $1 million picture to go out there and contaminate the marketplace. So, years later, it ended up being a $100 million film!

Watch a trailer for ‘Doomed! The Untold Story of Roger Corman’s The Fantastic Four’:

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#movie:death-race-2000 #movie:death-race-2050 #_revsp:wp.yahoo.movies.us #_uuid:714cdb9c-da62-3f92-b509-90a5b1ff07c1 #_author:Ethan Alter #movie:the-trip #roger corman #_lmsid:a0Vd000000AE7lXEAT

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theconservativebrief · 6 years ago

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Amy Winehouse is going on tour, as reported by Reuters last week.

A hologram of the artist, who died in July 2011, will tour North America next year. Her father Mitch Winehouse is the primary caretaker of her estate, and says he’s been working with Las Vegas-based company Base Entertainment’s nascent hologram studio to make sure that this digital Winehouse is an accurate recreation. And, as is always the case when a new hologram of a dead celebrity is announced, the reaction from fans has been mixed.

“Like she hasn’t been exploited enough??! Let her rest in peace and stop tarnishing her legacy,” one wrote on Twitter. Fair!

“People are mad about Amy Winehouse’s hologram tour. Can’t relate, I never got to see Amy perform live AND it’s raising money to help the Amy Winehouse Foundation which provides rehab facilities for young people who can’t afford them,” wrote another. Also fair!

What is not fair is that we are forced to consider, yet again, whether the dead celebrity hologram industry is just a niche technological novelty that will soon go out of fashion, or the future of entertainment.

It’s been six years since Tupac Shakur (then 12 years dead) appeared on stage at Coachella to perform alongside Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre.

This hologram, created by special effects company Digital Domain, was not a hologram. It was a trick of light founded on 150-year-old theater prop standard called “Pepper’s Ghost,” which uses glass and some knowledge of refraction to create an otherworldly-looking figure. It was invented by British scientists Henry Dircks and John Henry Pepper, and first used to add a “real ghost” to an 1862 production of Charles Dickens’ other creepy Christmas novella, The Haunted Man and the Ghost’s Bargain.

In a May feature for Wired, Jimi Famurewa called it a “low-tech piece of razzmatazz” and pointed out that it is still in use in Disney World’s Haunted Mansion ride and in stage productions of the horrible musical adaptation of the 1990 film Ghost.

The technologies that enable detailed 3D modeling, capture super-intimate facial tics, and allow neural nets to mimic highly-specific manners of speaking have evolved plenty over the past couple of years. But the technology behind projecting those images to create the illusion of a three-dimensional body has evolved very little since its invention. The biggest change: In 1995, German inventor Uwe Maass patented a version of it that swapped glass for — basically — Saran wrap, and subbed in HD video.

It was this basic tech that was used to make Tupac, married with Digital Domain’s cutting-edge CGI capabilities. The company was, at the time, best known for fabricating Brad Pitt’s face in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and for being owned by James Cameron, though it had actually been purchased by dot-com millionaire (and Michael Bay’s college roommate) John Textor in 2006.

Textor’s company won a special award at Cannes Lions for the Tupac hologram that June, and filed for bankruptcy three months later after Textor was sued for $80 million by the state of Florida.

Tupac Shakur’s “hologram” at Coachella Christopher Polk/Getty Images

In 2015, Rolling Stone’s Andrew Leonard chronicled the bitter (and very spicy!) war between the two biggest hologram companies: Hologram USA and Pulse Evolution. Hologram USA is owned by Greek billionaire Alki David; it was responsible for the Whitney Houston hologram tour that was shot down by her family in 2016, and it was also responsible for the breach of contract lawsuit filed against Whitney Houston’s family in 2017.

It owns the exclusive rights to resurrect Patsy Cline, Buddy Holly, Billie Holiday, and Jackie Wilson, and it is managing Chicago rapper Chief Keef’s current tour, which he is not attending because only his hologram is attending, and because he is legally not allowed to go to London.

Pulse Evolution is made up of the leftover parts of Digital Domain and it owns the rights to the digitally-enabled ghosts of Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, and Selena. Hologram USA sued the company for patent violation days before Pulse was set to debut its biggest accomplishment: Michael Jackson performing a previously-unreleased song at the 2014 Billboard Music Awards. In March 2016, Pulse settled with Hologram USA for an undisclosed sum.

Base Hologram, which is working on the Winehouse tour, is actually a relatively new and minor player in the world of dead celebrity holograms. The company, which is best known for producing Vegas staples such as Magic Mike Live, Phantom, and Criss Angel’s “Mindfreak” magic show, partnered with laser projection company Epson to launch its hologram division in January of this year. It has plans for nationwide tours, like with Winehouse, and for permanent theatrical residences.

The January press release announcing Base Hologram’s existence promised that the new company would represent “one of the most aggressive and unique approaches” to the field. Executive producer Marty Tudor told Vox in an email that his company’s tours use “cutting-edge proprietary techniques” to combine audio with “digital and laser imaging, CGI techniques, and spectacular showmanship.”

This claim was put to the test with the Roy Orbison production, which debuted in LA earlier this month, and was reviewed positively by the Los Angeles Times. Orbison’s son also told the paper that his father would have liked the show, having been tickled by the holographic Princess Leia in Star Wars: Episode IV — A New Hope.

Last year, in a longform consideration of the question of whether the government could commission a CGI Donald Trump to perform the president’s duties whenever he was busy with other concerns — such as golf, or television, or not feeling like it — New York Magazine’s Brian Feldman spoke to “digital facial expert” Mike Seymour, a special effects industry blogger and associate lecturer at the University of Sydney.

Seymour told him: “This technology is growing nearly daily and deep learning and neural nets are contributing not only to modeling and facial tracking, but soon to fine detail, high-frequency animation also. The actual computer rendering of the face has already become remarkably complex, producing digital skin that accurately represents the way light both reflects off skin and is partially absorbed and scattered.”

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There are also private research labs that can create 3D models of a human face using just one high-quality reference image, Seymour told Feldman, and it’s only a matter of time until that technology is commercially available.

But to make Winehouse’s hologram (or light creature, I guess), Tudor tells Vox that Base will just have to hire an actress who resembles her physically to don a motion-capture suit and create a bank of movements. Tudor didn’t mention if Winehouse ever had a 3D scan taken of her face, but it seems unlikely, so his company will also have to work through an elaborate process to make a digital recreation of that. Given that she was a very famous person who was photographed literally thousands of times, it may be tedious, but it won’t be difficult.

Famurewa’s Wired piece explains how the Tupac team “[Worked] around round the clock for two months in a room plastered with pictures of the rapper,” making “an entire bank of facial movements and expressions” to pull from when sequencing the entire pre-programmed Coachella performance. The VFX team basically just used the bank to piece together a video that bounced of some mirrors and translucent foils to make it look 3D; what seemed very high-tech and futuristic was actually just very labor intensive.

Making digital recreations of dead celebrities who can talk and ad lib during a show is also fairly easy now, thanks to chatbots modeled using artificial intelligence. All it requires really is that these companies can find and license a large enough sample of the person talking.

The big question is how to obtain all the materials you need to make a dead celebrity hologram. The legal issues around that rights and archives gathering are still pretty murky.

For example: One of the more notable legal battles in this space happened in 2012, when Marilyn Monroe’s estate threatened to sue obscure startup Digicon Media, which had patented “VM2 — The Virtual Marilyn, the first visual actress to live and work from Cyberspace.” Digicon claimed that Virtual Marilyn — who you can still visit on an incredibly retro, net art-heavy website — “did not in any way infringe upon the purported IP rights that were asserted by the Estate.” Digicon eventually gave up on its plans to have VM2 perform live, and seems to have stopped making new work.

In general, to create a hologram of a dead musician, any entertainment company first has to license the artist’s music and videos the same way it would to use those things in any other, more traditional show. It also has to license any images of the celebrity’s likeness necessary to create the visual recreation, which likely means dealing with the family or estate of the celebrity in question. From there, a contract has to be drawn up between all of the relevant parties to figure out how to dole out the profits.

VM2 — Virtual Marilyn! Digicon Media

But that’s not exactly the end of it! A celebrity’s likeness is subject to copyright and trademark, and something else that’s even slippier: “right to publicity.” This is similar to a normal person’s right to privacy, and means that while a person is living, they hold the primary right to make money off of their own existence and face and voice and even mannerisms. But after they die, what happens to that right depends entirely on the state they lived in.

There are 23 states in which a right to publicity lives on postmortem, and the time frames vary widely, from 10 years in Washington to 100 in Oklahoma. In California, the right to publicity is held by the person’s family or estate for 70 years. In New York, it doesn’t currently exist at all, with the right to publicity halting at the moment of death. Nearly every year, a bill is proposed that would extend the right to publicity in New York to 40 years after a person’s death — primarily to guarantee that a celebrity’s family or estate would be able to profit off of it.

As more of a legal scaffolding is built up around the still relatively niche industry, it will become more and more expensive for those looking to get in the business of buying up life rights and putting on new shows.

When Justin Timberlake hinted that he may perform with a hologram of Prince at last year’s Super Bowl, Prince fans furiously circulated gossipy tidbits about how much Prince hated Timberlake, and wouldn’t have wanted to share a stage with him, even from the grave. They also circulated a quote from a 1998 interview with Guitar World, in which Prince responded to a question about whether he would ever perform with a holographic version of say … Duke Ellington:

“That’s the most demonic thing imaginable. Everything is as it is, and it should be. If I was meant to jam with Duke Ellington, we would have lived in the same age. That whole virtual reality thing… it really is demonic. And I am not a demon.”

But holograms have been normalized, significantly, since 1998. Even before the Tupac performance — landmark primarily because of its shock value and the intimacy of the details programmed into its performance (like thanking the audience for applause, and interacting with the other performers) — Kate Moss walked as a hologram at an Alexander McQueen show in 2006, Will.i.am appeared as a very confused hologram on CNN in 2008, Frank Sinatra performed with Alicia Keys at the 2008 Grammys, Elvis Presley performed with Celine Dion on American Idol in 2009, and Mariah Carey showed up to a T-Mobile event in Poland in 2011.

Not all of these people were dead, obviously, but the “wow!” of making any famous person appear to be someplace they couldn’t actually physically be still dimmed a little more with each instance. When Feist — best known at the time as one of many indistinguishable members of Broken Social Scene — “performed” in three Canadian cities at the same time in 2013, the possibility of holographic concert tours that would be easy and weird and possibly profitable seemed fairly close. Yet, no real pop star has tried it.

Japanese virtual pop star Hatsune Miku went on her first wildly successful tour of North America in 2016; fans paid as much to see her as they did to see Taylor Swift the summer before. Not because they love the surprise of a hologram, but because they love her music and this is the form in which she exists. It hardly even seems odd.

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And then, last year, The Verge’s Lauren Goode reported on startup 8i, asking if holograms are “the future of how we capture memories.” The New Zealand and LA-based company has been working on setting up studios that resemble classic department store family photo studios, but use an arrangement of 41 cameras and proprietary software to render holographic video vignettes of whoever steps inside.

“Everybody wants holograms of their kids,” Nicole St. Jean, 8i’s vice president of content, told Goode. And chief executive Steve Raymond promised her, “People are going to want to put their loved ones into their phones for lots of reasons… [It] will become something you can just buy on Amazon and have it installed in your living room and make it at home.” The point of improving the technology isn’t to make anyone think the holograms are real, but to make them feel a more irresistible and automatic emotional connection. You don’t love a pricey computer-generated “vignette;” you love your toddler.

When Wired spoke to celebrity estate manager Jeff Jampol earlier this year, he said that the technology itself was basically worthless: “You can’t move around it, it can’t interact with you other than from a distance. It’s the equivalent of a used VHS tape.”

The novelty of a “hologram,” he argued, would wear off, and only our emotional ties to dead celebrities we’ve loved would remain to keep us interested in a dusty, hokey experiment. If the intensity of feeling that comes with the unexpected intimacy of these tricks of light wears off, this entire hotly debated industry will be little more than a couple-decade trend — as forgettable and inconsequential as the once-beloved VHS.

Original Source -> No industry is weirder than the dead celebrity hologram industry

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republicstandard · 7 years ago

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The Exile of Kanye West from Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Brittle Black Pantheon

On Culture, Black and Human

The big, bad lapdog of neoliberal white America is back to his one-note bark once again. Like a porn addict with a renewed hunger for more of the same, Ta-Nehisi Coates, polysyllabic but monomaniacal as always, is again on the prowl for white supremacy, summoning up more gooey gobs of words to indulge his fiendish fetish, of which neither he — nor apparently his editors at the Atlantic — can ever seem to get enough. The particular target of his latest 5,000-word fantasia is Kanye West.

Who is Kanye West? He’s some hip-hop artist … or so I’ve heard. Sure, I’m being facetious, but really, when you stop to think about it, who is Kanye West? He’s an entertainer, a prominent and prolific black entertainer who recently made some controversial comments in favor of Trump and against the notion that black Americans need to be forever victimized by and enslaved to slavery, as it were. To Ta-Nehisi Coates, who makes a ritual habit of raising the slave ships’ mainsails every time he embarks on his rhetorical voyages and whose entire M.O. is to keep Americans of every race perpetually enslaved to the original sin of slavery, West’s words were, of course, flagrant heresy. And so Coates takes the occasion to muse on black celebrities — the heroes and the traitors to “the cause” alike — and how those like Michael Jackson and Kanye West who aspire to deracinated celebrity rather than the specifically black celebrity that is supposedly their birthright are fleeing an angry ghost and overdetermining history they can never hope to escape.

This is a sad little world in which Coates lives and in which he would confine people based on the color of their skin. And it is a brittle world as well. I return to my question: who is Kanye West? … and, more importantly, why does Ta-Nehisi Coates — a self-styled intellectual, a thinking man — care if a notoriously outspoken black entertainer makes some inartfully worded, off-the-cuff remarks that don’t jive with the dominant narrative — victimhood, slavery, racism, etc. — of what blackness in America is supposed to be all about? Why does his whole world rise and fall on the shoulders of the athletes and entertainers that he forthrightly calls “Gods,” people like Kanye West or Michael Jackson, people like Stevie Wonder, James Brown, Ray Lewis, Colin Kaepernick or O.J. Simpson? Coates has claimed to be an atheist, a rarity among African Americans, but in this particular respect, his worldview unfortunately echoes another dominant strain of African-American theology, a slavish worship of the dollops of pop icons the American capitalist culture industry serves up in supersized portions. Slurping up with relish, to the last drop, its Big Gulp of saccharine flavors, he later finds himself brought short when the ill effects of too much artificial sweetness start to rot the body — his precious, mythologized “black body” — from within. When O.J. is on trial, it is as if all black America is on trial. When Michael Jackson dyes himself white, it is as if a part of black America dies. When Kanye lavishes praise on Trump, it is as if a dagger is thrust into the single black heart to which the black American ritual drum must beat. Good business is good for business, but art and culture are, or should be, a different kind of business altogether. When you kneel before the ever-changing display of glittering artistic, cultural and athletic idols adorning the capitalist temple of Mammon and never bother to wonder whether a deeper truth is out there to be found, you get what you’ve got coming to you.

The underlying pathology at the heart of black America’s fragile constitution, the underlying reason that Ta-Nehisi Coates cares so deeply about what an entertainer like Kanye West says and does, is that black American culture has little sense of history. There are the larger-than-life flavors of the moment — Kanye, Beyoncé, Oprah, Michelle Obama and the like — there are the saints and sinners of the “Old School” — the icons you loved when you were young or the ones your parents and grandparents told you of: Michael Jackson, Michael Jordan, Run-DMC, James Brown, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, James Baldwin, etc. — and then, once that short trail peters out, black America is lost in the woods. Go further out, and all there is is slavery, the mythical “drum” and the “slave ships” — both of which make their obligatory appearance (and, what is more, in the same sentence) in Coates’ latest piece — and, still further out, a still more heavily mythologized ancient African homeland of peace and harmony, natural wonders, dances and divine rhythms and, to the north, a land of vast sands, heavenly pyramids and divine pharaohs incongruously recruited to join up in the “black” cause. No wonder, then, that mainstream black culture’s approach to black celebrities of the present and of the very recent past is so thoroughly theological, making such figures indispensable to the consolidation of the contemporary black sense of self.

White America, of course, is not quite so overinvested in its present-day racial archetypes and allows its heroes to be of many races, to speak with many voices. Although Coates, just last year, lambasted white Americans for allegedly manifesting their white identitarian politics in electing Trump (a misguided argument I’ve debunked in some detail here), the irony is that while only 58% of those whites who voted in the presidential election voted for Trump, a whopping 96% of black voters in 2008 and 94% in 2012 voted for Obama. Meanwhile, many of those same whites who voted for Trump in 2016 had voted for Obama in 2008, so many, in fact, that, he had “won the largest share of white support of any Democrat in a two-man race since 1976.” So on which side of the fictional line separating “black” from “white” do the real racists reside?

Nor is this merely about presidential politics. The fact is that there simply is no unitary white pantheon of contemporary or recently enshrined “Gods” akin to those worshipped by Coates. Whites have their cultural heroes, sure, folks like Elvis, the Beatles, Madonna, Tony Robbins or Tom Brady, but also, folks like Michael Jackson, Michael Jordan, Oprah, Martin Luther King Jr., and even, for many, Barack Obama, even, for some, Ta-Nehisi Coates himself. And if these heroes should take a hard fall, there is a backup stable — in fact, the true starting lineup — of many others spanning the centuries from the dawn of recorded history to the present, people like Homer and Shakespeare, Mozart and Beethoven, Leonardo and Michelangelo, Galileo and Newton, Lincoln and Washington…. The Biblical prophets, the builders of Ancient Egypt, the thinkers and writers of Ancient Greece and the forgers of Imperial Rome and Ming Dynasty China … all these, too, are part of that same generous pantheon. This is not white culture or European culture or even the culture of the West. It is simply culture, human culture. It is owned by no one.

It is only when that culture is attacked and undermined, when its claim to represent the universal heights of truth and beauty — “the best that has been thought and said in the world,” in Matthew Arnold’s oft-quoted phrase — is relativized and ridiculed, that we get to a place where blacks begin to essentialize their racial identity and contrive a need for their own darker-skinned set of parallel deities. Only after the deep, fecund ground of universal culture is pulled out from under our feet and a giant misstep plunges us — and plunges blacks more than anyone else — into the shallow cesspool of identitarianism do we get to the point where Ta-Nehisi Coates, seeing Kanye West flailing to break free of his racial manacles, can summon West back to what Coates imagines as a permanent black “home” in this impoverished, cramped, ramshackle dwelling place:

And so for Kanye West, I wonder what he might be, if he could find himself back into connection, back to that place where he sought not a disconnected freedom of “I,” but a black freedom that called him back—back to the bone and drum, back to Chicago, back to Home.

But Coates’ vision of freedom is, of course, a thoroughgoing species of parochialism, and worse, a vision of never-ending enslavement to the tragic side of the black American experience.

History and culture offer us all, black Americans included, far more than the tired, repetitive cadence of the bare “bone and drum.” But for Coates to let go his disappointment with Kanye, he and all black Americans must first let go of its flipside, the rickety racial pedestal on which Kanye and all of Coates’ other all-too-human “Gods” stand awkwardly elevated. He must let go “black freedom.” He must let go black culture. And he must embrace our culture, the one universal human culture that recognizes the law of greatness alone and that belongs, in equal measure, to me and to him and to anyone else willing to leave their local lore and superficial commitments behind at the base of the mountain and devote their lives to the difficult upward journey.

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gradstudentwriter-blog · 7 years ago

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Chapter Four Sarah, too, had dropped down like Iron Man, the natural posture, the American birthright, of more than one generation. She held still, listening. She was listening for footsteps or any other sign of intrusion. What she heard was commotion. No, she thought, always searching for exactly the right word or phrase. No, what she heard is… a prison riot. No, it was slaughter. There was growling and screaming and loud thuds and she knew people were being killed. The panic that assailed her at times held her in place now, pressing on her skin like deep water. She stayed in place for over an hour. When she toppled over sideways, just like cow tipping she thought absurdly, she worried only about audible creaking in her old, over used knees. When she had pointed out the Snap! Crackle! Pop! in both joints to her Sports Medicine doctor, he had extended his own knee which made the same sound. “We don’t care about noise,” he’d said. Well, we do now, she thought. Page twenty On the down drop from the ceiling she’d gotten a look at a room full of guns. She rolled over on her back now and looked around. Crates, big heavy crates crowded one end of the room. There were ordinary cupboards with small hooks meant for coffee cups that held the trigger guards of hand guns, semiautomatics, revolvers. Holsters, spare clips were tossed carelessly on the counter. The room saw a lot of action. Because of previous research, she recognized a Walther PPK. It must have been stolen from a private home, she thought, they were worth a fortune. In World War II, it was the sidearm issued to the German military, German police and the Luftwaffe, all the same gun. PPK stood for Polizeipistole Kurz ( police pistol short). It was a tremendous machine whose design has not been further modified since 1971. It was the gun Hitler used to kill himself in his bunker and the weapon of choice for the director of the South Korean CIA Kim Jae-gyu when he assassinated South Korean President and dictator Park Chung-Lee in October 1979. Page twenty one The PPK was just barely too small to meet the requirements of the “sporting gun”, an odd phrase because the sport referred to is never named, defined by the Gun Control Act of 1968. The PPK was modified by an increase in height of 4 mm, increase in weight of 1.8 ounces and increased payload of one cartridge. When the agents of the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms were accused of getting out of control with the wide latitude granted them by the Gun Control Act, the Firearms Owners Protection Act was passed in 1986, though it never affected the slightly larger design of the PPK. Finally Walther went the way of all import restrictions and granted license to make the weapon in the United States to Ranger Manufacturing in Alabama in 1978. Smith and Wesson picked up the right to the famous weapon in 2002, which was still unwillingly relinquished by Walther, who built their own U.S. plant in Fort Smith, Arkansas and began making their own gun again in 2017. Such a fine weapon had to be appropriated by the victors for whom the message sent over the Atlantic was clear: we do everything better. At least weapons and movies, Sarah had long thought, when it comes to weapons and movies, don’t even try. The PPK became the handgun the Americans assigned a Page twenty two fictional British antihero with the world’s most desirable accent, a Scottish brogue, right up front in Sean Connery’s first portrayal of Bond in Dr. No. Elvis Presley owned a silver plated PPK inscribed with the letters “TCB” for Taking Care of Business. Sarah looked at the gun and smiled. I’m here to steal guns, she thought, this is my gun now. Guns made her happy, a fact she took some pains to conceal, at least before now. She strapped the Walther to the inside of her left thigh and went to work, piling on the accessories of warfare with duct tape: sniper scopes, Kevlar vests, silencers, night vision goggles, until she found herself too weighed down to pull up for the return trip, but not at all weirded out by dressing up like the bounty hunter in Star Wars. Painstakingly, she unstrapped everything, placing it gently, quietly, across the ceiling tiles until she knew she could pull up silently. Then she strapped it all back on again. The return trip was quieter, anyway. As she grew closer she heard the sound of bones breaking. It sounded like the International Wolf Center at dinnertime. She slid back a tile with difficulty, soaked in sweat and unsure of the best way to move while keeping all this hardware quiet. Boy Wonder was in his place, resting slightly against a ping pong table. He heard her but never looked up. Page twenty three There were beads of sweat on the back of his neck and there were lots of little furry things making happy noises, bustling around cleaning the place up. They looked like a cross between a Christmas elf and a Yorkshire terrier. They took care of the mess with their furry little bodies as well as with soap and water. “Crime scene cleaners?” Sarah asked incredulously. The little animals looked as if they lived for the day they got to clean more blood and brains off the wall. There were snorts and giggles and a regular flurry of activity. “Yeah,” said Boy Wonder, quietly, almost reverently. “Nineteen items,” said Sarah. “Stack them up close to the wall. You were smart to wait. How you holding up?” “I need to come down for awhile.” “Now is good then. They don’t really sleep but they get quiet after they eat.” She crawled by millimeters to the edge where the roof met the ceiling and took off each item but the Walther, hidden by grey sweats cut off below the knee. She did not need to rest or eat as much as she needed to take her place by Boy Wonder, to feel his calm, even if it was quiet engendered by respect for the dead. Page twenty four “I think they may have gotten my kids’ dad. He came in with my group. I didn’t see if he was with the next group or not.” “The guy in that green jacket?” Boy Wonder nodded so slightly she would have missed it if she hadn’t been paying attention, at a cheap quilted jacket hanging on a peg near the door. When she nodded it was easier to see. “He was playing both sides, trying to help the humans with inside information, playing the aid and comfort to the enemy look.” He had been a double agent, who blew his cover looking for her. “They got him.” Tears burned her eyes while she stared straight at the red light above the shoe struck door without blinking to make the tears go back inside her head. Reflexively, she did not move or make any sound, only stood quietly while the tears receded. “It was quick.” Already, she could tell he was lying and wanted to thank him for it. Her journalistic insistence on accuracy had put off more than one family member who seemed to want to say in exasperation, Could you, for once in your life, tell a polite lie?” It had not been quick. He had been carrying. He went down in a gun battle. Page twenty five So. Now. What was the word?What was the phrase? Blood sport. No, that carried with it the implication of pointless violence for entertainment. Revenge. No, it was bigger than that. This was the violence deplored as antithetical to the larger goals of a nation state as well as generational, and therefore useless in achieving positive change. Not useless, however, in achieving genocide. Not useless, however, in winning a war. Not useless in a vendetta. Sarah looked around at the zombies, now bloody and somnolent, and thought, I will kill you and everyone you know.

#science fiction for young adults zombies speculative fiction juvenile delinquents books about war coming of age novel boy books

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