#~T: Running Headlong Into The Bullshit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xyfanficarchive · 6 years ago

Text

The Length Of A Minute

Pairing: DBH Connor x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: angstttt

Summary: One dead android. Months later- nine more. Same model, same face, same death. Nobody in the reader’s life quite understands their guilt, or why they throw themselves headlong into an unhealthy obsession towards solving this case.

Word Count: 4422

Author’s Note: HERE SHE IS! My fic for @deviantramblings 500 followers prompt challenge! This is literally the culmination of me writing from 3:45 pm right up until 12:15 am, and let me tell ya, my brain fell out of my ass somewhere in between. But it’s finally here. My first Connor fic, and another fic thats like 4.5k words... bro. wtf. anyways i hope you guys like it! as always, any feedback is welcomed and encouraged!!

Prompt: “I don’t need to go to bed, I’m not tired, I’ll be fine.”

It was supposed to have been a break, that night. A repose from the world of blue blood and biocomponents, of plastic parts and processors that you had lived in for the past few months. You had at last gotten the partners you had been begging for weeks, and with the addition of two more great minds you had made whiplash progress on the deviancy case you were working on.

Perhaps you weren’t quite there yet, but you could smell a breakthrough on the wind. Nobody would blame you for wanting a bit of an early celebration.

And it was just as you were ambling out of the bar, just a little bit past tipsy that you saw it – a dark figure rushing past, hunched posture, eyes darting side to side – a flash of blue underneath a hood. A checklist of items spelling “deviant” to your brain.

You were always on the hunt for that “good job” sticker of elementary school days. That rush of pride from a pat on the back, an acknowledgment of your skill from someone older and wiser than you. Sometimes it overrode your common sense. So, you, in your gently inebriated state, began to tail this android, not giving a single thought to the fact that this was a being stronger than you, faster than you, and more scared and more desperate than you.

When you had backed him into a corner, he turned to fight as all scared and desperate and cornered things do. You drew your gun and within seconds you were without it now, too, cornered into a fight you couldn’t win or run from. When he saw his chance to flee, you received a rush of determination in the form of a shock of adrenaline. The predator turned prey turned predator again. Before either he or you inside your drink-intoxicated brain could process it, you were on him, you were straddling him, you couldn’t let him get away, go for the most vulnerable part, the most vulnerable part.

Your fingers, now, tore through the buttoned front of his shirt, and locked around that cylinder in the centre of his abdomen. It came out with a plastic click, and all the android’s strength was gone. The acrid chemical smell of fresh thirium in the air. You were on your feet, and backing away now, still gripping the vital component in your hand as he flipped over as best as he could, now crawling towards you.

“No… no…” A static-laden breath, as he looked up into your eyes. “…Please… Please…”

You stood in silence for a hot few seconds, the android making his pitiful crawl and plea the whole while. You dropped the biocomponent at your feet.

Under your heel, it came apart with a cracking plastic sound.

“No-! Why…?” A breathy whimper. “Why…?”

You had no answer for him. He collapsed, and wept silently, face contorted in anguish until a minute had passed and suddenly it wasn’t, and he was still. The pavement was blue.

After the investigation that night, Hank drove you home.

“Hey, good job facing that deviant all on your own, kid,” he said just as he was pulling up in front of your apartment.

“It’s a shame you didn’t apprehend it in a functional state. Nonetheless, it will be a great benefit to our investigation. As of yet the only deviants we’ve seen have been relatively old models. This AP700 is the newest model deviant we’ve encountered outside of reports,” Connor added from the back seat.

There was your sticker. You sat in silence for a breath, staring out the windshield before you turned and exited the car. And then turned to lean your face underneath the roof to look at the two remaining occupants.

“He cried,” you said, and tiredly continued your way into your apartment.

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

You never took your coffee black before. Now, it was easier to go from cup to cup when you would just ignore the bitterness of the shitty precinct coffee rather than taking the extra time to sweeten it. Every second was precious, was worth something. You were standing in front of the coffee machine in the break room waiting for the pot to brew silently, going over the case files in your head again when you heard a voice approach you from behind.

“Well, you look like shit.”

You smirked a little and turned around. “Good morning, Hank. I wasn’t aware I had put on a mirror today.”

Hank scoffed, grabbing a paper cup and moving to stand next to you. You shifted to face his tall form and he made eye contact with you, quirking an eyebrow. “Morning? It’s one in the afternoon.”

“Well it’s morning for you, evidently, considering you’ve just arrived,” you teased and grinned, and as you heard the telltale low spluttering of the machine having finally expelled all the brewed coffee into the pot you picked it up and poured some out into both of your cups.

You lifted the cup up to your mouth and blew gently on the surface of the liquid as Hank was preparing his. “Fuckin’ Gavin’s MIA again today, the motherfucker…” You spoke up, and carefully took a sip. “Fowler’s said nothing so I guess he’s called in sick or something. Man, I don’t know how he gets away with having so many sick days.”

“As much as we all hate to say it, Gavin’s really, really good at what he does. When he decides to do it,” Hank admitted, eyes turning up from the coffee he was stirring to meet yours again. “That’s why we all put up with his bullshit.”

“God do I wish he’d do something now,” you chuckled lowly. “But there really was no other outcome huh? Serial killer whose victims are androids. Of course he’d drag his feet, and I’m left to pick up his slack.”

“Yeah. How’s that going for you, by the way?” There was an edge of concern slipping into his voice and you bristled. “When I said you looked like shit earlier, I meant it. You don’t look well, kid.”

You paused; too long, now he was certain to know something was up. “I’m fine,” you said curtly as your gaze flashed down to the floor.

“Listen,” he said as he leaned in towards you slightly. “I’m an old man but I’m not an idiot. You’ve changed in the past few weeks. And we- Connor and I are worried about you.”

You remained quiet, growing ever more uncomfortable under his scrutiny with the passing of the seconds.

“This case is wearing you out. Thirty years and I’ve seen it enough times before to know what’s going on. I know you’ve got the passion, but you’ve always known how to pace yourself so you don’t burn out. But this time - it’s like you’re obsessed. You’re starting to neglect everything that isn’t this case.” He looked at you in earnest. “What’s different this time?”

The hand that wasn’t holding your coffee curled up into a white-knuckled fist at your side. You were still as stone and just as silent, eyes still firmly locked on the linoleum tiles at your feet. You felt cold all over. What was different?

It was the thirium smell. Cobalt blue - the crunching of plastic and metal. Oh how you spent bullets so carelessly. They were just machines. Their bodies hung in rows like your t r o p h i e s - you weren’t meant to be a killer. You weren’t a killer until a few tears were shed and suddenly you were tossed into the reality that you were every bit as depraved as a common criminal with a body count higher than most of the people you put in p r i s o n. And you enjoyed the hunt too, you sick fuck - you’re sick. You’re so fucking sick-

“This…” You looked up as you spoke under your breath, but not at Hank: just over his shoulder, and his eyebrows drew together at your thousand-yard stare. “This is atonement.”

You used his stunned silence as an opportunity to quickly steal away from the break room.

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

Your next door neighbor was a trusted friend. You tended to keep to yourself when it came to those cohabiting the same apartment block as you, but you were glad you allowed her the chance to enter your life.

You were sat curled up in the big chair in her living room that evening, and she across from you, laid feet up on the couch. She was in her early 40s and single, but seemly unconcerned about it. She was a wine mom without the “mom�� aspect - lounging in a satin nightie and silk house robe, tucking locks of swept blonde hair behind her ears as you both sipped rosé from crystal glasses.

She could be blunt, and her advice tended to be dubious, but she was a keen listener - that was something you admired her for.

“I just feel so worn out. I can’t stop though. I can’t rest. I can’t let up until this fucker gets his justice,” you confided, staring up at the ceiling. “Nobody seems to get it. And it doesn’t help that I ended up partnered with fuckin’-” you shook your head in frustration “-Detective Reed. I’ve told you about him?” You looked over at her face and she nodded before you tilted your head back up. “Cunt, he is. Good detective but - God I couldn’t have been assigned a worse case with him.” You sipped from your glass.

“Tell me the details of this case,” she said, and you heard the flick of a lighter, and the smell of cigarette smoke hit your nostrils.

“I don’t think I could give you the details,” you said, “but - strong anti-android sentiment coming from Reed. And this killer targets androids. Nine bodies found so far - all AP700s with the same face. All killed by removal of the thirium pump regulator.” You shut your eyes. “God, it’s like this guy is mocking me,” you said. Of course it was odd that this killer killed in exactly the same way as you did on that pivotal night - exact same model, exact same method. It was a constant, chilling thought at the back of your mind, but you tried not to pay attention to it. There was no way it wasn’t just some fucked up coincidence. You weren’t so self-absorbed as to immediately assign yourself relevance in places where you didn’t belong.

You shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter from your lounging posture. “The crime scenes are almost immaculate… He leaves clues, but I’m positive he does it on purpose. Selects evidence to leave that bring me just close enough, but never quite there. Doesn’t let me connect the dots - whenever I get close, he throws a fucking wrench in the whole system that sends it all collapsing to the ground. And Gavin Reed sits on his ass while I do all the work.” Your eyes followed the tendrils of smoke coming from the end of her cigarette as they danced, raising up into the air before dissipating into the room.

“Okay first thing,” she said, and you met her green eyes as she sat up, taking a kindly expression. “I think you’re getting way too stressed out over a bunch of androids.”

You straightened in your seat, brows furrowing as you began to speak, hesitantly as she took a sip from her glass: “...What do you mean?”

“I mean, come on. Really, all the same model, and all the same face? It’s not like there aren’t a million androids identical to that! There’s only one of you. You can’t be replaced like they can in the event that you stress yourself to death. I mean, look at you! You look sickly.”

You took another sip from your glass, quick and nervous as you got up and turned around. You pursed your lips tight as a deep pit of disappointment began forming in your chest.

“I mean, it’s not like they can either. And- and beyond the fact that it’s my job to solve this case, I - I operate on the predication that all life is precious, and valuable, and irreplaceable, I -”

“Ask yourself: are they really alive? Maybe you’ve gotten yourself all mixed up in all this post-revolution confusion. Weren’t you the one who was just months before working so hard to understand and contain the whole deviancy thing?”

A face flashed through your mind - brown eyes casting an intense gaze, a stubborn lock of dark hair flopped over onto a forehead. A smile; one with teeth, one that reached all the way up to the corners of his eyes past cheeks just barely dusted blue. One that you looked forward to seeing and experiencing the warmth that it spread through your chest.

And another, tear streaked, pressed into the concrete in the November chill.

You whipped around. “Of- of course they are! Of course they’re alive!-” Your hands fidgeted, not quite knowing what to do, before you turned back again.

“God, I knew it. I knew it. Nobody understands,” you squeezed your eyes shut, your strained voice mumbled under your breath and you sighed, raising your face up to the ceiling as you blinked hard, trying to keep the frustrated tears at bay.

Your voice raised in volume, but it quivered. “You know, there- there was another AP700. A human gave him his body. A human gave him his mind. And we think- we think a human probably gave him whatever scrap of code in his programming that let him have… insight into the reality of his existence.”

You began to pace the length of the floor behind the couch, still holding the glass of wine, your voice raising and cracking, try as you did to contain it. “He- he risked everything- everything he ever had on the… vague hope that there might be some small corner of this fucked up world where he could experience more than the life of servitude he was born into.”

You stopped at the mirror she had hanging on the wall of her living room, and leaned in close. “And it was a human-” you reached out a shaky hand to the reflection of your face, before closing it into a fist, “-who stole all of that away from him in a moment of animalistic violence.” By this point your eyes were wide, your voice almost loud enough to be yelling.

In an instant all the intensity was gone from you, and you fell to a near-whisper. “Who watched, expressionless, as he died, weeping and hopeless on the ground.” Your eyes slipped closed, and with a shaky hand you raised the glass to your lips, quickly gulping down the remaining half-glass of wine. You turned around and walked to the coffee table where you set down the empty glass.

“He wasn’t the first, either,” you made direct eye contact with her face, her eyes wide, eyebrows raised as her mouth hung slightly agape. “Nor was he the last. And that’s the weight I have to carry for the rest of my life.” You gritted your teeth and sucked in a sharp breath, squinting your eyes as you reached the back of your sleeve up to wipe away the hot tears you now felt rolling down your face.

“Now another human is doing it again, and again, and again, and it’s like nobody cares but me. So that is why I am getting so stressed out over a bunch of androids.” You shut your eyes, and when you opened them you had broken the eye contact you held.

“I’m sorry. I have to go now,” you said, and you left her apartment.

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

The clock read 2 am. You were sitting at your desk at the precinct, once more throwing yourself into the world of brown file folders and clear glass tablets, desk terminal glowing blinding blue in your eyes in the low light. You were bothered endlessly by your vent-session gone wrong earlier in the day, and you were left restless for the remainder of the night, so you did what you always did now when you were unsure of how to occupy yourself: ruminate over the case files. Analyze, agonize, again and again.

You could feel the pull of exhaustion, even into your second cup of coffee, but you willed yourself to stay awake. You were afraid you would dream.

You were growing agitated now, but for a different reason than before. By this point, you saw perfect replications of all the photographs taken in your brain, could probably recite all the reports and analyses by heart, but still you made no progress. You got nowhere, endlessly spinning your wheels for the slight chance that you might gain some sudden, magic insight that caught the killer.

One thing you never found intact were the androids memories, so therefore you had no record of the killer’s physical form. The processor and memory units were both destroyed after the android had shutdown following the removal of their thirium pump regulator. Performing only the former action would suffice to kill an android, but this murderer made sure they suffered for those few minutes before wiping them not only of any trace of himself, but of themself too. An identity hidden, an identity destroyed. It was all so infuriating-

“Y/N?” A voice called from behind you, footsteps echoing throughout the still silence of the night. You took a sip from the coffee mug you held in your hands before leaning back in the office chair and swiveling it around to face the person approaching.

“Connor,” you beamed at him, and he shot back that warm half-smile that crept in along the edges of your mind, fighting off the frustration consuming your consciousness. “What are you doing here?”

He was carrying his coat folded over his arms that were crossed in front of his stomach. You could see, vaguely through his white dress shirt, the outline of his arms and chest, you caught a glimpse of his collarbone peeking out from behind the undone top two buttons - he never did that. You liked it. “Hank sent me to check up on you. He seemed especially worried about you today.” He laid his jacket over the rolling chair sat at the desk opposite yours and brought it over, sitting leaning his front against the back of the chair. “I went to your apartment but you weren’t there. Given the information Hank told me, I thought you might be here otherwise.” The corners of your lips drew out, and you gestured your hands outwards to match.

He glanced briefly down at the mug in your hands, before looking back up at you. “You shouldn’t be drinking coffee this late. It will disrupt your sleep schedule.” You contemplated throwing a smart remark at him, but as you looked down into the deep brown liquid you decided to slowly set it down onto the desk - in all truth, that small expression of concern woke some kind of feeling in you, fleeting but warm all the same, and you didn’t want to argue with it. Your eyes followed the mug, and then flitted back up to meet Connor’s gaze - more deep brown. He looked at you so sweetly, and you swallowed thick and heavy, feeling like you would melt in his vision.

His voice took on a softer tone: “Are you alright, Y/N? Although your stress levels have decreased since I entered the room, they are still quite high. It isn’t ideal for humans to endure this kind of strain for so long.”

You averted your gaze to the floor. “I’m alright. I promise,” you muttered, and attempted to smile, but you cursed internally as you felt the fact that it didn’t reach your eyes. Connor wouldn’t be fooled.

“You can trust me, you know,” he spoke slowly, and you heard the shuffle of clothes as he reached out across the desk. You startled slightly as you felt his hand clasp over yours - he was warm, god, he was warm. “...I’ve noticed your overall health and wellness decline since being assigned to this case.” He paused, thinking, contemplating his next words. “I would be lying if I said it wasn’t hard to watch, as you are someone… important to me.” Neither of you moved for a hot second. You felt your face heat up and your lips part as your pulse and breathing began to quicken, before Connor spoke again: “Maybe you should go home and rest for now. You need sleep.”

“I don’t need to go to bed. I’m not tired. I’ll be fine,” you said. Slowly, you pulled your hand out from underneath his before standing up and crossing your arms over your chest, shoulders hunched over guardedly. “I’m just so… defeated. I’m at my wit’s end, Connor. I work and I work and I work and I get nowhere on this case, and Gavin’s doing jack shit, and god knows how long until the next victim turns up!” You exclaimed.

Connor stood and moved in close to you, raising his hands to gently place them around your upper arms, and you dropped your defensive posture - he always had such a way of calming you, of bringing you back down when your emotions mounted high. You met his eyes and he asked earnestly: “Is that the whole truth?”

You tilted your head, eyebrows drawing slightly together. “What do you mean?”

“Hank told me you said something about this being ‘your atonement’,” he said. “I know the murders in this case bear a striking - almost identical - resemblance to one of the androids you apprehended on the deviancy case. One that you were particularly emotional about.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I want you to know that you don’t have to work yourself so hard because you feel the need to right what you did wrong that day. You don’t have to let your guilt take hold of your life like this,” he continued. You straightened in his hold, not yet pulling away but-

You closed your eyes. “How long do you perceive a minute to be, in comparison to us humans?” You asked, opening them again and staring directly into Connor’s gaze.

“I don’t know how to answer that, since I have no other frame of reference to compare it to.”

You paused for a split second. “I remember this thing I read, this concept I kept hearing about. That it was likely that the faster a being processes information, the slower they perceive an objective measure of time to be,” you said. “I think about that so often,” you shook your head, still not breaking eye contact. “It only took a minute for him to shut down. I just wonder: how long was he in that minute for? In that state of having given up, the defeat, the crippling sadness, after I stole from him a life of freedom he hadn’t even tasted yet?”

“Perhaps you don’t understand, but I have to do this. For myself, and because nobody else other than you, me, and Hank in this whole godforsaken police force gives enough of a shit about androids to seriously investigate their murders,” you said.

“You shouldn’t let it get to the point where it affects your wellbeing,” he said kindly.

“It’s not. I’m fine, Connor,” you said, a little exasperated.

“It’s two in the morning. At the very least will you go home tonight and sleep?-”

“I told you I’m not tired, and I don’t need to sleep right now.” There was a frustrated edge creeping into your voice that you tried to keep at bay, but you were growing annoyed with his insisting.

“Fine,” he said, his grip tightening just slightly, enough to accentuate his urgency. “You want to solve this case? Well I’m telling you that there have been measurable, observable declines in both your mental acuity and physical functioning since you were assigned to investigate this killer. You are jeopardizing your investigation by continuing on this path where you obsess over the case and refuse to take measures to take care of yourself.”

You jerked yourself out of his grip. All the warm feelings at last entirely gone from you, you backed away a step as you narrowed your eyes at Connor. “Oh, so you’re going to be like that now? I don’t have to fuckin’ listen to you, Connor! So either you drop that tone or kindly piss off, thank you-” You were moving to sit back in your chair when Connor’s hand darted out and held your arm tightly, a hold that was almost bruising, and you whipped your head back around, face twisting in clear anger now, as he spoke this time with more intensity.

“Y/N if you do not go home and rest I will have no choice but to come in tomorrow and report to Captain Fowler that you are too emotionally compromised to effectively carry out this-”

“-OH, fucking REALLY?” You had an incredulous expression on your face. “Wow, that’s- Okay. Fine.” You spat, and gathering all your strength you took hold of his wrist and ripped his hand away from you, throwing the extended limb back in his direction with enough force that you surprised him and caused him to stumble back. There was a smile on your face you couldn’t contain, but you were sure you looked absolutely deranged, eyes wide and trembling with anger.

“Wait, Y/N, please-” His voice and expression softened now, but it was too late.

“Nope! Whatever! I’m going home!” You turned to your desk and quickly, angrily, you stacked the files and all the tablets, and less pushed and more hit the power button on the computer terminal, at which point you began hastily shoving the materials you’d brought from home into the backpack you had sitting under your desk. You ignored Connor’s pleas as you threw on your jacket and slung your bag on one shoulder, making a point to shove past him as you made your way out of the grid of desks.

“Y/N, please, I’m begging you to listen-” An edge of desperation was now creeping into his voice, but you cut him off.

“Good night, Connor,” you seethed from across the room, and hurried your way out. He didn’t make an effort to follow you.

When you arrived home, you went straight to bed.

#dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh fanfic #deviantramblings500 #dbh #dbh connor #x.writing

106 notes · View notes

doomedandstoned · 6 years ago

Text

Record Label Red Flags

~Bacon's Blog~

Featuring photographs of Dopelord, IL, and Kazuskoma by Mo Nemo

★

Bands hit me up asking about the deals they get offered by record labels all the time. They want to know if they should take them, if they will get screwed over, and if all "the rumors" are true. This is a really good and healthy line of questioning. Quite often, I think, bands get label deals and then they just take them. Or they get deals and they assume is all bullshit, because they are operating on the (mostly false) assumption that the music industry is all bullshit. It’s a tricky way to be and the sort of thing that is going to keep you fucked for years to come, unless you figure out how to operate within the system.

That being said, I wanted to talk about some of the things legit labels will do (as opposed to sketchy labels) to provide a sort of blueprint when figuring out your negotiations. Please note that I’m not a lawyer and a lot of this stuff is case-by-case, so you need to use your own best judgement, in addition to consulting with those who are experts on understanding contractual agreements. With that caveat aside, let's dive into this thing.

First and foremost, it’s important to realize that any label worth its salt is going to welcome you asking a lot of questions about the record deal. I know that some bands are afraid of asking questions because they don’t want to look stupid. Here’s the thing: the guys running labels have seen it all. If they get mad at you for asking dumb questions, then you don’t want to be working with them in the first place. At the same time, if they give vague answers or don’t answer at all, it means that either they don’t know or that they are trying to rip you off. If they are coming from a place of complete honesty and transparency, then you know they are going to be easy to work with and there is little reason to doubt what they are doing. It’s simple as that. A lot of folks overthink it, but don’t ask questions. Just go for it in a kind, professional manner.

Children of the Haze by Dopelord

Tied into this, no matter how much you might trust a label or how much you might get along with the guy in charge, don’t be afraid to hire a lawyer. If it’s a smaller release it might not be as necessary, but it’s always a good thing to keep in mind. You can pay a lawyer just a few hundred bucks to check things over. For a multi-record deal, this can save years, even decades, of stress. Are you really that cheap that you don’t want to make sure you’ve crossed your T’s and dotted your lowercase j’s? Are you so proud in your understanding of the contract that you’re willing to risk years of turmoil with a label you never really should have trusted in the first place? Yeah, I didn't think so. Sure it's a pain to consult a legal professional, but it is a struggle we all need to face. If a label explicitly tells you not to hire a lawyer, it’s a scam and you should tell them to fuck right off.

In terms of finances, it once more pays off to be cautious and talk to the label openly and honestly. If they are giving you an advance, then make sure you are understanding how it gets paid off. The odds are it does not get paid off in the way you think it does. There’s a lot of trickiness that has worked its way into the industry over the years, so getting how different options work will be key if you want your band to increase its savvy moving forward.

To gain a better understanding of music contract law, I strongly recommend you start with Donald Passman’s classic, All You Need To Know About The Music Business. This will put you in a position of authority so that you can ask intelligent questions and ensure you aren’t embarrassing yourself or getting involved in contracts that you'll later regret. As a general rule, product deals (while less lucrative) lead to a lot less stress and fuckery in the long run. Just a thought.

Образ Пустоты (Void Shape) by ИЛ

Finally, a good label should be fairly open about their production and release process. If they can’t give you a basic outline of how their releases roll out and they claim to have made numerous releases to their name, well then you’re just wasting your time. It’s as simple as that. They don’t need to have every detail for your release nailed down right when you ask about it, but if their plan doesn’t involve realistic timelines, hiring PR, or having some sort of marketing plan, then you probably should sit down and re-evaluate if you want to work with them.

Again, I’m not saying that you should be a dick and to quiz people, the same way you might with a used car salesman. You should just try to get a general idea of how they envision themselves being involved in making your album release as successful as it can be. No doubt, this is a tricky process every single time -- even for established bands; but if you don’t embrace it and make a point of getting your questions answered, then things could end poorly. Like I said, if the label doesn’t want to answer, then start to back away slowly.

One more thing: at some point in your band's life, you will probably end up feeling fucked over by a label. It’s part of growing in your knowledge and awareness of the business, which is continually evolving. Be cautious of contracts that involve indefinite terms or "in perpetuity" clauses, but don’t immediately run away when you see them. In fact, nothing should be an immediate turn off, just an opportunity for clarification and mutual understanding -- and the label should be damn ready to explain them to you and give you a reason to engage with them. It’s simple as that.

Remember, most of these labels are run by genuine fans (doom metal is a dumb thing to attempt running scams in). If you take the time to learn and grow, then you increase your band's chances of finding a productive path forward. If you just go headlong into a contract you don’t understand to say that you have a deal, then it’s probably going to lead to regrets or, in a worst-case scenario, fuck you over. I don’t want to wish that kind of stress and misery, which the music industry can sometimes pour down, on anybody.

Matt Bacon (IG: mattbacon666) with Dropout Media is a consultant, A&R man, and journalist specializing in the world of heavy metal. Matt also co-hosts the Dumb & Dumbest podcast with Curtis Dewar of Dewar PR.

#Bacon's Blog #Matt Bacon #Dropout Media #Advice #Dopelord #ИЛ #Kazuskoma #Photography #Mo Nemo #Doom Metal #Stoner Rock #Doomed & Stoned

3 notes · View notes

xottzot · 8 years ago

Text

2017-3(MAR)-45 onwards-2017-Friday onwards--several days of blog entries-

2017-3(MAR)-45 onwards-2017-Friday onwards--several days of blog entries.

Internet connectivity and speed has been so slow as to be non-existent. Even just getting something simple like radar image weather report literally takes awhile to scroll down the screen.

The official weather departmeht has been once again (as always and constant) over-ambitious in sayin that here's goimg to be rain here. They say thay're there's to be a 70% chance of rain. Hah! - We'll see what happens.....an 99.9% of teh time they're WRONG. There is no rain. And when there is rain, it's so light that it just pushes the dust on the ground around a bit then dries up again.

Friday night was the usual thing......aboriginals (especially ones who do not live there) wandering in and out of the aboriginal household and walking all along the streets as if the streets were footpaths.

Over the back somewhere is a nearby place that is also aboriginal and you can tell by the level of noise made. Think of manic children doped up on petrol (or whatever) and screaming out and yelling nonsensical and you get the idea. That goes on until darkness, and then they move-off onto the streets and other areas and it goes on and on.

It was later the turn of the local shops area to then have all that happen all about it, as they congregated all about there using the roads as footpaths.

But later that night in darkness, all become somewhat calm. I guess unmarked Police patrols are maybe making themselves more known about. But that's purely a guess.

Illgeal unlicensed motobikes again are a curse on the roads. On Saturday, I spotted one that has been tearing along the roads and riding all about. It came through a pedestrian walkway, then rode along roads, then all about the school poperty areas and beyond and about. It came back boldly along the road at the same time just as it was getting too dark since it had no lighting on it whatsoever (as if that would make it legal on the roads - Hah!), and this time it had two shitheads on it. Crazy.

During one of the many times on Saturday (25-March-2017), it made a circuit and tore through the pedestrian walkway, where a family consisting of a moother wheeling a pram with child in it, and together with a group of several small children walking all together as a sensible quiet group with them with ice-creams in their hands (it was HOT, and it was supposed to be 24C but was 6 degrees celcius hotter and was closer to 32 (90F), which was predicted (guessed) for this hellhole area. Forecasted it was supposed to be 26C (78F) but REALITY in this hellhole was closer to 32C (90F).

A hot day........some obviously illegal motorbikes were all about. And no care at all for the innocent family walking about who were just about to go through the pedestrian walkway and use it for what it was intended, a walkway for innocent PEDESTRIANS. They just simply watched the damn thing tear through there and roar past by on the road within spitting distance of them all.

So that's what pedestrian wlkaways are now are they?.....give-way zones to rampant out of control illegal motorbikes at all times, especially for mothers with baby's in prams, get outta the way! -- They innocents looked on at the speeding motorbike with disgust and resignation. The small kids probably then asked with ice crams in hand when could THEY have a motorbike to do the same. (shitheads in ghettos create more shitheads)

Up and down the streets illegal bikes were going. You could hear them day and approaching night, but at night then it was the turn of over-roaring engines of load cars mostly but still motorbikes at times.

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

On Friday evening, I never got to sleep until near 1am. And I then was woken up later at 4am.

I fed Sam & Max and let them outside for their dog ablutions and went with them. Max started to bark and then Sam, at someone in the streets walking about in the darkness. -- That's what shitheads do....the moving about of shitheads from one place to another andor back again ad-nauseum was on and had been going on all in the darkness for hours.

As I write this part, it's almost midnight Saturday night. The streets 'seem' calm and quiet. But that's now always misleading. Tomorrow in Sunday I predict based on previous countless instances, that an unlicensed motorbike will come tearing along the roads. Maybe it'll go up to the shops area get some stuff, and fly back along the roads again. And as always it will use the pedestrian walkways as conduits and ways to stop Police from following them.

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

On Saturday 25-March-2017, that aboriginal toddler girl child, of the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD was once again free and roaming on the streets.

At one point an adult female walked out of there, crossed the road, got to the street corner and just happened to turn her head back and saw that toddler just walking out by itself and onto the road as it squawked for attention. (so, please judge that for the level of care that they give to a toddler and then magnify that to ALL the many criminal children of that CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD)

And so what does she do? - She justs stands there and is agitated the brat has come out and she has to deal with it so she beckoned the child to come to her, to walk across the road to her. The toddler races along the street verge, goes straight onto the road without looking of course, and then it goes to her.

Does the kid receive admonishment? - No, the exact opposite. It's actions and attitude gets rewarded. The kid gets picked up and carried to the shops area. - And you wonder why all these kids from the CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD have no road sense at all, why they actually play ON the roads, why cars and vehicles almost run them over and then the drivers get accused for supopesdly violating the aboriginals in some way!? -- They kids are taught and allowed to be this way from being toddlers onwards, who play actually ON the road, they do that and just get worse and worse as they grow older, until they run rampant on the roads. And when they get old enough to drive vehicles....they carry that careless atitudes onwards into the lives of all other traffic users. Before the useless get killed and or kill others in road smashes.

Recently within the past few days, there was a news report of a nearby area losing power to thousands of homes because a car driven by (women?) from this area smashed straight into a light pole bringing it down on top of the car they were deliberately careening about in. They dont care. - They'll just get another car, one way or another. (Being women gives them more bargaining power to get what they want.)

It starts out with not caring about anyone or anything. By being so utterly selfish and animalistic and feral and constantly being indulged, by departments and Police (who are obliged and forced to take extremely lenient or no actions at all against any of them), all of which creates the terrible aboriginal crime that is rampant and (the highest?) in all the states of Australia.

Do YOU dear reader have a toddler in diapers who is allowed to just run out in the road, ON THE ROAD, and is rewarded when it does that? - And this is not new. This was going on this time LAST YEAR with the the same toddler and inept 'parents'. Then it was in diapers. Now it's in training pants or whatever, still shirtless and without shoes and running headlong and without a care in the world onto the roads.

But it doesn't matter. Because they are making their own 'laws' (which are not) and influencing and subventing the existing laws so that they are creating a situation whereby normal lawful behaviour just does NOT apply to any of them. If you object, then you are branded as 'racist'. They've been using that tactic more and more lately, with authorities and Police to bend them to their wills and wants.

What would happen to YOU dear reader if you allowed YOUR toddler to run around anywhere it wanted, onto roads and wherever, in danger? - What would happen to YOU dear reader if your toddler was given into the hands of young (useless and criminal) children to take care of and play on the roads that they themselves play on? - I can tell what does happen here. NOTHING HAPPENS. And so they grow up doing whatever the hell they want. And if they they start bawling, suddenly there's a swarm of attention just to shut the damn thing up, stuff it's face full of candys or whatever. And so they very quickly learn to just bawl for no reason in order to get what they want. I've seen that here for myself in the streets truly countless times.

Now, progress that into them getting older..........they NEVER EVER GO TO SCHOOL. - Oh dear, they're now not just dumb, they're STUPID. But they then hold THAT up again as allegations that they've been mistreated and that it's somebody else to blame.

I'm waiting for the inevitable bullshit of them not having to have a drivers license at all for ANYTHING. I'm sure they'll soon enough bring in some sort of bullshit scheme where by they won't need to have a license and no 'skill' or intelligence. -- It's the way things are heading here.

Progress it further into teenage and older......they become criminals doing crimes too severe and many for Police to ignore, and for authorities to cover up. (forget about all the victims...apparently victioms don't matter anymore we're constantly being told even if victims are asaulted or killed let alone robbed or property stolen or smashed)

And so this state of Western Australia has an extremly high rate of recorded crime being performed by aboriginals...and even THAT rate is constantly being under actual real-world values thanks to all the bullshit that goes on to try to keep it under-reported and out of media and public knowledge. ('averaging' is a gtreat bullshit means to make statsitics lie and state whatever anyone wants to their advantage. Polticiians are expert liars and at doing that.)

How embaressing it would be for authorities and Police if the public knew that a toddler child in diapers was allowed to roam around at will and toddle all over the roads. NOT just a single instance......but which was allowed to happen at anytime of any day. - And in addition that the 'care' of the toddler was constantly handed over to children who never go to school and who themselves are lawless.....

All that above is TRUE. - IT's what goes on here all the time. - It's a ghetto that they've made it, and is allowed to continue and prosper.

So.....we've had a car in a nearby area smash into a power pole and bring down the pole and live wires on top of it, losing power for a couple of thousand people. - I'm sure the media maestros covered a lot of that up pretty quick in the NEWS.

This area also has a lot of those from country areas who breeze-in, set up living in other 'relations' housings inflating numbers, and then they bring in even more of their friends in. It's like a goldmine for them all. - And when things get too hot and Police are after them, they get in a car and take off and go back into the far flung country areaa to hide out for awhile.

In this way you necver know who's living at exactly where, and when they are living about here, they constantly move all about in each others houses day or night.

And yet the SAEM ones live in the SAME houses for more than a year and have been the focus of interminable departmental interventions and 'help', and also Police involvements,........and yet it all means nothing. -- Welcome to the ghetto.

1 year on, they're still doing what they were doing last year, but at a reduced rate, and they're doing it over wider areas now so that it simply just 'appears' as if the high incidences of last year has decreased. (averaging can say anything)

And as I have said so many times, all the shit that they do, it emboldens other shitheads. Hence the rapidly rising numbers of illegal motorbikes and going through pedestrian walkways and elsewhere at will at any time of the day or night.

A child-in-a-pram in the way of a motorbike? - Then they could just kick it out of the way. -- Pedestrian walkways are purely for motorbikes it seems.

I'm sure the Police have tried to stop some illegal motorbikes, however literally for 4 MONTHS straight, there has NOT been a single day around here where a motorbike has not gone tearing along around ON the streets and all about school property and elswhere and most of the time it is an unlicensable motorbike. (wait until they start tearing about on the school oval in cars...)

Lately they've been wearing helmets to disguise themselves but they are just as well not likely to either. And there can be two people upon a motorbike, a motorbike even if it's manufactured to only carry one person.....

And just the other day there was 2 shitheads walking done the middle of the road, 1 of them hobbling down the middle street on the road with his foot still in a cast or whatever, . - I guess he might have been going down there with his friend so he could catch a bus around the corner in order to go to the doctors to get it cut off......and maybe that's why he wants to illegally ride about so much on the roads again to make up for lost time........I'm just guessing.

Year ago, I used to be an offroad motorcyle rider. But every motorbike I had and those of my friend, we had licenses, and licensed (for roads use) motorcycles. -- And in those not far-off years, Police policed motorbike riders FAR more stringently than they do now.

I can recall simply one evening going to the Midland library to return some library books I'd borrowed from there, when Police pulled me over to check my drivers license. It was a random check. And though I didn't have my license with me, (I'd accidently left my entire wallet at home), I was able to quote my long numerical license number and details to them, and the other license types I posses for other vehicle types (several), and they were amazed that I could remember them. -- Since computer checking was avaialable in their vehicle, they did so, and it quickly came back with all the detail which were correct. And of course they had me confirm other details, again which they were surprised to learn I could remember. I asked them for the reason for pulling me over and they said that there had been a rising incidence of people illegally riding motorbikes who just (arrogantly) illegally assume that you could just ride a motorbike without having a license. -- Fast forward to the situation now, and now road users (and illegal road users) simply just don't care at all and just do whatever the hell they want.

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

But all that about me is now ancient history. It means nothing. I am nothing.

Each day I wake up and wonder why I'm still alive when my life is absolute crap.

Each day I see the shitheads and the criminals ever more rising and rampant, and getting rewarded, and prospering, and multiplying ever more.

And when I'm gone, nobody will care. It will be as if I never existed. They'll make sure of that. What you've read about in my blog will be forgotten. Innocence and truth will not matter. Nor the constant pain. Nor the despair.

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

Sunday, 26-March-2017:.....it's supposed to rain today. Like a crazy mad sale, it's been predicted a week ago (as long range forecasting) that it would happen on THIS day Sunday. -- Isn't it strange how they can pin down that one single day and hold it out and yet are hopeless for others?

There's been bush burnoffs happening somewehere. Smoke has been in the air on Saturday. And despite the heat, to try to keep the smoke out, I had to close the windows of this hovel and suffer.

In the mid-morning, a cricket match is beingplayed on the school oval which has a cricket pitch in the centre of it. And in the car parks around the school are parked player and visitors vehicles which have ben a prime source of crime targets for the criminals of this area. They wander and prowl around there as they are always doing (even when there is nothing happening on the unfenced oval). Sometimes an unlicensed motorbike will tear around the place there and the Police have to deal with that to kep it covered up and dealt with but never solved. But criminals have slowly adopted a new tactic of waiting for the vehicles to thin out, then as they are leaving, motorbikes will dash across the oval. Or they wait until they are all gone and do the same. - I want all to know the extent of all these shitheads and criminals.

Last night/early this morning, I fed Sam & Max to beat the forecast rain because its always unprdictable whether it actually does rain or not. The recent thunerstorms (2 of them) were as nothing here for rainfall. And this rain was just supposed to be minor. (it ended up actually produced mroe rain onto the ground here than the two thunderstorms from before.)

The rain started spitting down in the darkness just after I let Sam & Max outside for their abutions after being fed for the day.

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

Weird lights in the sky at 3am.

Outside, I happened to see a weird and strange light effect going on in the sky to the north west of here not far away. It wasn't lightning or anything natural. It was man-made. And it was at 3am in the morning.

The clouds of supposed wet weather was steadily and swiftly coming in, and that's why I was keeping an eye out. But I always keep a watch on the sky and have always done since a small boy. Fliss was always suprised at how I could tell when it would rain wherever we went. But that 'skill' has long gone since the wet weather has become so stupid and unreliable.

The strange lighting itself was cyclical and was oblique circular, the light kept catching on clouds in its cycling around not turning off, so it may have originated at a distance and was being shone onto the clouds, hence the elongated 'circles' or ovoids going around and around in a constant never changing figure-8 pattern. Not a circular pattern. -- It was bright, and at first I thought it was yet another dickhead fucking around with spotlights instead of illegal motorbikes. 15 minutes later it was still going on, just as it had been in a cyclical nature going around and around only in one large area of the sky in the north west of here.

Due to the proximity of the Perth airport, it probbly might have been some new equipment they have but why would they be projcting light into the sky clouds and having it go around in a figure-8 pattern? - Whatever was the source, I went inside and tried to get back to sleep. I'll keep an eye out for it for now on simply for curiosity. Nothing whoo-whoo or anything in the sky, just something odd.

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

It's 10:13am as I write this and it's been false calm.

7 minutes later a small white car pulls up on the street, has its indictor on and it stops against the kerb next to the newly constructed house across the road from the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. Nobody gets out.

And within 5 minutes, aboriginals are out and literally staring at the car. They are quite agitated at the vehicle being there. They think it might be departmentals or whatever.

A male adult aboriginal agitatedly begin pacing up and down the street verges, trying to scare off the car. A female adult woman comes out and begins walking up the road ON the road towards the shops area. (the alchohol store must be open) - The male shouts out to her and she shouts loudly back along the street.

More aborgines come out onto the roads. From one group an aboriginal toddler wearing nothing but a disposable diaper runs along ON the road to the woman walking ON the roads and joins following behind. It's largely ignored. Treated worse than a stray dog. (its how these aboriginal criminals were brought up and perpetuate everything).

As I said, false calm.......a very typical Sunday morning percolating upwards......

What's worse is that innocent normal people have accepted all this as being 'normal' because it's been allowed to go on for so long from the criminal aboriginals. IT's low level shittery in the streets.

But of course where YOU live dear reader, you won't have this going on all the time and you think all this is just fiction. It's not. None of it is.

I've long since forgotten how just not so long ago these streets would have normal people in them, normal vehicles driving along and people NOT taking over the streets, how friendly families would walk about as a group on footpaths not on roads and feel safe, perhaps walk with their friendly dogs on a leash, and all was well in the neighborhoods.....

Now it is a ghetto.

The cricket match on the school oval is a relic of a friendly age where everything WAS friendly and everyone was friendly to everyone else because the entire areas weren't full of criminals and up-and-coming-criminals......

Nowadays there are shitheds like Ben Cousins (a has-been sportsman) a rampant, maniacal drug addict of West Australia who has constantly been in the news for extreme things that are quickly deliberately covered up and forcibly forgotten. - The lives that shithead has destroyed.....and now the newest thing is the umpteenth-time tried public relations spiel that he wants to get off drugs and be a 'good' person again....that he doesn't want himself apparently.

A typical criminal role-model for all the shitheads of this area believe me, and just as much a shithead. Watch the Australian media for another round of public relations bullshit to be manufactured.

Meanwhile, complete innocents are ignored, sidelined, marginalised and suffering......and all get painted by the antics of this shitheads actions and PR......

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

Around 3:00pm the innocent people gathered on and about the Koongamia school oval playing cricket, they start leaving and from the car park area. And the aboriginals start their roaming about on the streets from the CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD.

It's like a trigger event for them.

People who do not live at the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD start coming and going, whilst the usual overweight woman wanders the streets and collects stray aboriginals drug addicts and takes them back there again including the ones who live there.

Now at 3:30pm it's becoming more noisy outside on the streets from them roaming about. - This goes on and will intensify as it always does every Sunday like clockwork.

I'm trying to do as the many neighbours do....ignore it all....but it's impossible.

There's nobody parked around the school oval anymore. Things will only go up in scale........they're free to roam across the oval and school area without being observed......

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

Ay around 5:42pm a Police vegicle (operational: GE 117) come VERY slowly into the area from te bottom of Kalara Way where it joins Clayton Street. It has come from Midland direction. It goes VERY slowly along the street, and takes a long pause slowly coming up Klara Way as it looks into the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD yard.

The big black mastiff dog, that wears no collar and is never ever on a leash, from the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD, that dog slinks out from the yard of the vacant house next door to the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. The Police look at it warily.

But it's the presence of two older white youths on skateboards who they stop and talk to (without getting out of theoir vehicle) at the pedstrian walkway at the end of Kalar Road. Nothing happens. They next pull up at the rented corner household that has been the site of constant aboriginal comings and goings, including today. - Including the VERY odd acting adult male aboriginal of teh CRIMINAL HSOUEHOLD who went in there today for a short time.

Two uniformed police officers get out, a man and a woman officer, and they go and question the mother and of the two boys for about 10 minutes. About what?

Around 5:51pm, the Police vehicle drives away. Then after doing a circuit around the block by going past the Koongamia shops, the Police then heads back to the direction of Midland via Bellevue on Clayton Street.

And within moments, then a a small aboriginal boy is seen walking into that rented corner house property........

Once again.....yet another Police incident of which nobody will know about.....

But at 7:23pm, Sam & Max became distressd hearing the the sounds of slamming car doors. They thought FLiss had arrrived, but she had not. Now they are greatly upset. It was a small white vehicle parked at the rented corner residence that the Police had visited earlier. -- A lot of loud talking, not angry but inflective. Lost count the number of countless times the car doors slammed shut. The noise has also has disturbd neigborhood dogs who are all barking now. -- Around 7:30, the loud inflective talking has become unintelligble angry shoutings.

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

At 7:32pm.....once more a motorbike has come roaring up to the pedestrian walkway in the cover of darkness and gone through it, then it loudly tore off into the Bellevue suburb through there.

At 7:34pm...the white sedan drives off and away.

At 7:50pm....in darkness, a VERY loud offroad motorbike (I did not get a chance to see it because it was flagrantly moving at such very high speed, but it sounded like it was one of the several illegal unlicensed offroad motorcyles that tear all about here and all around EVERY DAY. And it has no lights on it at all as far as I know. - THAT motorcycle came tearing though the pedestrian walkway at the end of Kalara Road, tore through the road intersection ON THE ROAD, went past the Koongamia shops area, turned left onto Jinda Road, went along that road, turned left onto Wangalla Road that goes past the Koongamia school, tore along at high speed all along the street, went up Stuart Street hill and was finally unheard of as it went down other roads. Into places other aboriginals and shitheads live and the strets are black with burnouts.

At 8:05pm:----that seperate loud road? motocycle is now tearing about in Bellevue beyond the pedstrian walkway and it sounds like it's using the roads and illegally the other pedestrian walkways.

So.....once again, the shitheads on illegal motrobikes tearing about has NOT been stopped by West Australian Police yet again, which has been going on for well into the 4th month straight daily. The shitheads only 'paused' for awhile today because Police had been seen in the area and the Police had gone to that corner house.

At 9:28pm....aboriginals are out wandering the dark streets and easily heard because they are being so LOUD. They have walked from the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD on the roads, around the Koongamia shops area, and into and onto the roads and other areas around past the shops. -- All the dogs in the neighborhood are loudly intruder-barking at them as the aboriginals wander about. It has also upset Sam & Max.

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

I'm vainly trying to wind down and get some sleep......it's impossible.

P@21:32 (9:32pm, Sunday, 26-March, 2017) -- I love you Fliss and wish to be with you. Poor dear Sam & Max keep getting greatly disturbed by all the rampant motorcycle noise and so on EVERY DAY close by, no to to mention the aboriginals roaming all about on foot in the darkness and yelling out on the dark streets in the dark of night.

0 notes

directorscutandsomeotherstuff · 8 years ago

Text

Raw Emotions

(Aaaaaaand it’s Director’s Cut, the series where we find a bunch of fanfiction from a long time ago and burbledy burbledy boo. Sorry. All this shouting into the void is kind of silly, when I’m wasting time standing on ceremony. Final Fantasy Seven!)

(I started trying to play Final Fantasy Seven and it’s... not great. It’s good, make no mistake. I can see why people might be nostalgic about it. But between the muddy and confusing graphics, the inconsistent scoring, the bizarre and unrealistic set pieces, and the sheer assholery coming from basically everyone who can talk, it’s a game that’s aged poorly. And no, I’m not just saying that as a rabid, unapologetic FF9 fanboy, so don’t even bother suggesting that! >8C)

(Now, I know what you’re thinking. “DC,” I hear you groan, “This isn’t going to be some cringy Sephiroth bullshit, is it? I’m a rabid FF7 fan, and even I’m tired of the cringy Sephiroth bullshit. And the answer is, no. We’re not dealing with Sephiroth, a.k.a. Katana Wielding Phantom of the Opera. Instead, we’re dealing with the greatest love triangle in the history of fiction: that of a man torn between a woman who manipulates his emotions in order to goad him into committing acts of eco-terrorism, and a woman who makes him wear women’s clothing and wander headlong into a fat man’s decadent sex dungeon. Ah, young anime love.)

(And so, I pose a philosophical question: in the grand war between those who ship Tifa, the spunky street fighting anime girl, and Aeris, the spunky fetish enabling anime girl, on which side do you think you’ll find somebody with a username like Aeris Love Gainsborough? I choose to believe he or she can remain impartial on this front, though I haven’t read the fanfic entirely, so let’s find out together, shall we?)

Raw Emotions By Aeris Love Gainsborough ***

I just started writing this one day, trying to capture the love triangle between Aeris, Cloud and Tifa. I hope I did it justice! ^_^ Send your comments to [email protected] (Do you think they still use this address? How freaked out do you think they’d be to start getting fanmail eighteen years after they wrote this fic?)

***

She looked so beautiful tonight, with her long golden-brown hair gently flowing down her back, and in the silky lavender dress, which was the perfect color for her light, pink skin. DON'T STARE AT HER, (Gah! Fuck, don’t shout like that, man.) I told myself... Tifa would kill me. I shook my head, and turned my attention to Tifa, who was talking away quickly.

"So, Cloud, I was thinking of going down to the store to buy myself a new skirt... I don't know, what do you think? Should I get a leather one? Those are nice, but..." (”...but since I don’t really come across in-game as someone particularly versed in fashion, I don’t know why I’m talking like a valley girl about skirts, especially since I can’t really afford them in the slums I grew up in...”) She trailed off, because she realized I wasn't paying much attention to her. I was watching Aeris again, who was giggling, and stroking Red XIII's fur... I wished I could be Red XIII at that moment. (I pushed that thought from my mind, immediately. It was bad enough I wore women’s clothing, on occasion. If the girls found out I was also a closet furry...) Tifa released an exasperated sigh.

"Are you even listening to me??" she said, glaring at me.

"Huh?" I glanced at her. "Oh, oh, yeah, of course I am."

Tifa shrugged, and went on talking. I kept my eyes on my dinner plate as she talked, not letting them trail to Aeris again.

Want to hear the truth? (I still have that silk dress from Don Corneo’s place.) Whenever I look at Tifa, I don't see her as the woman she's grown into. I see the child she used to be... My best friend. I can see what she feels for me, though... (A sense of power and control, of having a giant sword wielding attack dog on standby.) When she speaks to me... When she looks at me... But I just... I just can't feel the same for her.

"...the black one or the blue one? Tell me honestly, Cloud," Tifa said. She was holding up a fashion magazine. There were millions of models wearing different mini skirts and T-shirts. (Literally millions. The page was an orgy of flesh and fabric, the likes of which had never before been captured on film.) I blinked. Most of them were black and blue. I raised an eyebrow.

"The black one," I said, trying to sound like I was listening to her. (”Also, whichever one lets you hold the most Materia. Gotta get that Steal leveled up so you can Mug people all the time.”)

"Yeah, I like that one too, I think it..." Tifa went on.

"Sorry to interrupt," came a voice. I looked up, to see Aeris. Interrupt?? She was more than welcome! "But, Tifa, I think you should get a new dress instead of a miniskirt... Maybe a short summer dress in white? I have one in my closet, if you want to see it, except it's light blue."

"Hey, that sounds cool, doesn't it Cloud? Why don't you wear it downstairs?" Tifa said.

(”What?” I shrieked, my face burning. “Listen, Tifa, that whole cross dressing thing was a one time deal, okay? A one time deal!” It was clear by their expressions that neither of them believed a word of what I was saying.)

"Well, I don't know... I think it's a little revealing for my tastes..." Aeris said doubtfully.

"Oh, that's ok..." I said, then wished I hadn't. "Uh, Tifa wants to see it..." I said, trying to cover up quickly. Aeris raised her eyebrows, and giggled. (She knew what sort of deviant she had helped create, the little deviless.)

"Ok, why not? Just a second!" she said, and walked upstairs. Tifa was looking at me strangely.

"Cloud?" she asked. I looked at her. She shook her head, and said, "Nothing, it doesn't matter... Can you pass me some of the steak, please?"

I shrugged, and passed the plate over to Tifa. I looked at Red XIII, who had been very quiet throughout the meal. (Normally, the talking red lion-dog thing was particularly chatty. Red XIII was a talking red lion-dog thing. Just in case you didn’t play the game.)

"Red?" I asked. He didn't reply. I looked a little closer. His eyes were shut. It looked like he was asleep. (Therefore, by process of cold logic, I decided that he clearly wasn’t asleep, so I called him again.) "Red??" I repeated. He opened his eyes.

"I was meditating," he said crankily.

"Er... Yeah,ok, get back to it, sorry to bug you," I said, scratching my head. He closed his eyes again. "So, Tifa, what do you think?" came Aeris' voice.

I quickly turned my head to look at Aeris, and could feel my mouth fall open. The light blue dress reached her mid thigh, and showed off her long legs. It emphasized her curves... The color made her eyes shine and her cheeks glow radiantly. The only thought running through my head was that she looked incredible. (My envy was palpable. Why was it that only women were allowed to look so damnably beautiful? Why?!)

"Close your mouth, you're drooling," came Cid's voice into my ear. He had just arrived from the weapon store, where he had been buying a new spear. (Cid was the only one who seemed to still remember that we were out trying to save the world. He was a bit of a killjoy, like that.) I shut my mouth quickly.

"It's a great dress, Aeris... I'd like one, but maybe in red, or green... I don't know if white would suit me," Tifa said. (”I mean, the white tank top I have on all the time would look hideous, without the fingerless gloves, suspenders and short shorts to offset them. I totes know how to look like I know how to dress myself, you guys.”) I don't think she had seen me looking at Aeris. She turned to me. "What do you think? Do you like the dress?"

"It's beautiful," I said, taking my eyes off Aeris for a second to look at Tifa. She smiled.

"Ok, great, I'll get one," she said. She pushed her dinner plate away in front of her, and stood up. "I'll come along, too, I know a great store," Aeris said.

"Count me out," Cid said, sitting down at the table, piling steak onto his plate. Tifa glanced at me. "Cloud, do you want to come, too?"

(This was a trap. I knew it was a trap. The two of them just enjoyed teasing me, ever since the Corneo thing. I knew better. I was better than that. I resolved to tell them no, in the most concrete terms possible, and prove I was above the temptation of pretty dresses.)

"Sure!" I said, jumping out of my chair, dropping my knife and fork onto the floor. I think Tifa thought I did that because I was excited to go with her, because she began smiling broadly. She didn't understand it was because of Aeris... It would be hard to explain. Before Aeris, we had gone out on a couple of dates, because I had fooled myself into believing Tifa was the right one for me. But after I met Aeris, I realized that, no, Tifa was just a friend. (Tifa didn’t do the things Aeris did. She didn’t hold up a mirror to one’s deepest, darkest desires and pretend they had been part of her facade, all along. To put it crudely, she wasn’t a freak like Aeris was a freak.)

We walked out of the house. Tifa was walking on one side of me. She was talking animatedly about next month's fashion (or something like that). Aeris was walking silently on my other side, looking at the animals and plant life around us. She gasped, and pointed at a field of brightly colored flowers.

"Oh, those are so beautiful, I have to gather some of them! They're just gorgeous!" Aeris said, smiling. (Aeris was always known for just indiscriminately picking flowers. It’s not like she had any sense of preservation or care-taking, she just always wanted flowers. All the time. It got borderline destructive, at times.)

"Let me help you," I said, and quickly kneeled down by the flowers, and started picking them, making a big bouquet for her.

"Oh, I don't need that many," Aeris said, kneeling down next to me. "Here, you can split it in half, and give one half to me, and one to Tifa."

I quickly split the flowers into two groups. I shoved one into Tifa's hands, and then gently handed the other one to Aeris.

"Thanks, Cloud," Aeris said, smiling.

I grinned. "Uh, my pleasure." I noticed Tifa looked just a little bit uncomfortable. "Let's go, the store's gonna close, soon, Cloud," she said.

When we reached the store, Aeris and Tifa went to look for outfits. I sat down for a second to think. I had lost track of my thoughts during the walk to the store. I decided I needed to put all my feelings together, to understand myself.

What did I feel for Aeris?? I had never been romantic, or interested in love... But Aeris brought out feelings in myself that I had never experienced. (At first it was shame, but after the third outing to the shady bars...) But why?? What was it about Aeris that made her so special and different? It didn't have anything to do with her being an Ancient, did it? (Everyone knows being an Ancient automatically makes you a better lover. That’s why there’s no more of them.) Or was it just her sweet, wonderful personality? Or the fact that she was so gorgeous it made her glow like the sun? I felt really bad feeling all of this, despite Tifa's feelings for me... Maybe if I told her, I would lose the guilt...

Aeris was in a changing room trying on another dress. Tifa was looking slightly flustered and uncomfortable, as she searched through the dress racks.

"Cloud..." she said slowly. "Can you come here for a second?"

I nodded, and walked over to her.

"Remember when we used to go on dates and stuff?" she said. I nodded. "Why don't we do that anymore?" she insisted.

"Uh... You mean like, uh... Dates? Well, those weren't really *date* dates... They were more like friends going out for meals and that kind of stuff..." I said, scratching my head meekly. (A slinky little chiffon number beckoned to me out of the corner of my eye. Be strong, Cloud. You were in SOLDIER, for Planet’s sake...)

"Really," Tifa said, a little sarcastically, but then she got emotional. "Cloud, I remember that you kissed me once... Didn't that mean anything to you? Remember, it was late at night, and we had just finished dinner... We went back to the old well, like we did when we were kids... And you kissed me... That meant a lot to me..."

I bit my lip. "Tifa... That was one time, and... Well, I think we both know that what used to be there isn't there anymore..."

Tifa's eyes brimmed up with tears. "Cloud... I still... I... I think I still..." She choked out the last words. "I still love you, Cloud..."

"Tifa... I... I think I love Aeris," I said slowly, looking straight into her eyes.

Tifa sighed, and the tears slid down her face. She shrugged dejectedly, and walked away from me, to another dress rack, where she kept on crying silently. She picked out a dress, then took it with her into a changing room. I sighed, and sat down to think again. I knew I did it all wrong... I had really hurt her. (The last time Tifa started depression-shopping, it was when her cat died. She maxed out credit cards like nobody’s business.) But at least I had told her, instead of keeping it a secret until the end. But now I had to somehow tell Aeris.

"Cloud," came a gentle voice. I stood up and spun around. Of course, it was Aeris. "I think Tifa's crying..."

"Yeah... I know... We had a disagreement..." I said.

"Is it something personal, or can I hear about it?" Aeris asked, concerned.

"Well, I suppose you'll have to hear about it sometime... I used to sort of... Uh, go out with Tifa... On dates and stuff," I said. Aeris nodded. I went on, and I begun beating around the bush. "But, I realized there was this other girl who I liked better... She's gorgeous, and intelligent, sweet, and everything I could ever want..."

"Do I know her?" Aeris asked. She really didn't know who I meant. "Uh..." I said slowly. "You are her..."

Aeris raised her hand to her mouth, surprised. She looked at me, then back at the changing room where Tifa was getting changed, then back at me.

"Cloud..." she said softly.

"Do you... Could you feel the same for me?" I asked her nervously.

(”Are you kidding?” Aeris said, laughing. “No, I can’t. You’re too much fun to jerk around, and besides, I only got involved with you for the same reason I did that other guy: Mama didn’t want me getting involved with SOLDIER boys. And, you know, fuck her. She ain’t my mom.”)

"Yes, I could... I think I already do... I think I love you," she said, looking at me in shock. My heart leaped in joy. "But what about Tifa? We can't leave her like this..."

"I know we can't... But before anything, can I do something that I've wanted to do ever since I met you?" I asked her slowly.

"What do you want to do?" she asked curiously. I leaned in and kissed her. It was the most wonderful kiss I'd ever experienced. As I wrapped my arms around her neck, Tifa came out of the changing room.

"Cloud!?" she yelled out. Aeris parted the kiss in surprise, and we both turned our heads to her, still in each other's arms.

"I can't believe I wasted twenty years of my life... Loving you, Cloud..." she muttered. (”I mean, at this point, you’re more or less rubbing it in my face. Did she put you up to this? Are you gonna tell me you’re entertaining some kind of cuckqueening fetish, now?”)

"Tifa..." I said gently.

"Goodbye, Cloud," Tifa said, on the verge of tears, and marched back into the dressing room. I looked back at Aeris.

"Cloud... Maybe we should give her some time to cool off," she said softly. "Come on, let's go..."

She took my hand, and we walked out of the store. Night had fallen, and the stars were out, twinkling away. We walked silently for about a minute. Then, I spoke. "Do you think it's wrong?" I said gently.

"Do I think what's wrong?" she said, confused.

(”The fact that I collect fetishes like a flystrip collects flies. Seriously, I think the Mako’s screwing with my head.”)

"The fact that even though Tifa is suffering, I want to take you into my arms and kiss you?" I asked, innocently. She stopped walking, and we gazed into each other's eyes. A smile slowly crept across Aeris' gorgeous features, and she leaned in, and we shared another sweet kiss. Once we parted, I smiled at Aeris.

"I... I... How can I say this..." I stuttered. I just let it rush out: "I love you, Aeris." She smiled her beautiful smile. "I love you, too, Cloud." (”But seriously, you’re actually kind of a dick, following the romance while your best friend is beating herself up. That’s kind of how murders happen, you know?”)

"You know... I still feel sort of bad... About Tifa..." I said, scratching my head.

"I think she'll be alright... There's somebody for everyone on this planet of ours..." Aeris said, smiling at me. "It may take her a day... Or it may take her another twenty years. (Luckily, by then she’ll be a cougar. I bet she’ll make for a fine-ass cougar. Mmph!” The look on Aeris’s face as she said that was distressingly covetous. I didn’t know what to make of it.) But she's going to find her Mr. Right, and she will be happy forever." "I hope so," I said gently. "I hope so."

We got back to the inn, and I kissed Aeris goodnight, before we parted ways to our rooms.

"Cloud? Wake up!" came a voice. I yawned, and opened my eyes sleepily. A blurry image of a girl appeared before my eyes. As it came into focus, I realized it was Tifa.

"Cloud, I wanted to say I'm sorry for... For acting the way I did. Believe it or not, I'm really happy for you and Aeris, really, I am... I just was really surprised... I thought that the two of us still had a chance... But I guess not. I just want you to know that, while I am sad, don't blame yourself. If you don't love me, you don't love me... You just can't pretend, it wouldn't be fair to either of us. And Aeris really does love you..." Tifa smiled a little here, and looked down. "I hope we can still be friends."

"Of course we can, Tifa..." I said, smiling. "You'll always be one of my best friends."

Her eyes sparkled with tears, and I hugged her gently. She then stood up, and began leaving the room. But before she left, she turned around, (and that’s when she recognized Aeris in the bed with me, half-naked and so obvoiusly post-coital it hurt. Surprisingly, though, she only) smiled again, the tears gently making their way down her cheeks.

"Goodnight, Cloud."

"Goodnight, Tifa."

(Aeris smiled conspiratorially as she left. “Man, I knew it was a good idea, leaving home. Corrupting the bunch of you’s the most fun I’ve had in years.” She snuggled in close and whispered “Now, about that closet furry thing you let slip, a few minutes ago...”)

#fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic commentary #final fantasy #final fantasy 7 #Tifa #Aeris #Cloud #love triangle

0 notes