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honourablejester · 3 months

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Numenera Character Concept: Aeveen Seersha

Following on from my previous post about a Numenera campaign concept starting in Ancuan, because my favourite part of the Steadfast is definitely the more maritime parts, and because the concept of the Redfleet (rogue pirate oceanographers and marine scientists with their own fleet of submarine bioships, what a concept) is incredible, I wanted to make a Redfleet character.

Aeveen Seersha, an Earnest Jack who Learns from Adversity.

It’s an old Kaparin story. The fleet goes out, not all of the fleet comes back. Aeveen, like many other Kaparin street rats, was orphaned by the sea. She grew up in the school of hard knocks on Kaparin’s streets and underneath Kaparin’s docks. But she never let it bother her, never let it harden her. You learn what you have to learn, you do what you have to do, but you don’t have to be mean about it. You don’t have to be tricky or treacherous or cruel. Make your way honestly while you can, and be honest about it when you can’t. And she never let the loss of her parents blind her to the beauty and mystery and majesty of the sea, either. The opposite, if anything. She spent hours as a child at the RFM, the maritime museum, marvelling at all the creatures and recordings and stories of the vast mysteries of the ocean. Her parents died out there, sure. But they died doing something amazing. Something, she vowed, that she would one day do as well. She’d be a proper oceanographer when she grew up, a true ocean explorer. And she’d find something special. Just one thing, don’t be greedy about it. But one thing to be remembered by. That’s her goal in life.

Aeveen is a Tier 1 Jack from the School of Hard Knocks. She has a Might Pool of 13, a Speed Pool of 12, an Intellect Pool of 16, and an Intellect Edge of 1.

Her Jack Tricks of the Trade are Fleet of Foot (move faster than normal for one round, costs speed points) and Phased Pocket (gain access to a transdimensional storage pocket for 1 hour for 2 intellect points, extend duration at a rate of 2pts/hr).

She’s earnest, straight-forward, smart and tough, and has learned and toughened from her hardships. She’s trained in persuasion, oceanography, sailing, seeing underlying patterns, solving puzzles, providing consolation and emotional support, initiative, and defence rolls against disease and poison. She’s hindered when it comes to tasks to see through lies and trickery. Her Flex Skill is often used for swimming, navigation or perception.

Her father, who was a very skilled man, was her idol as a kid, until he went out with the fleet one day and never came back. While she’s not necessarily credulous, she believed every fantastic story he or her mother ever told her, and she’s inclined to believe them from other people, too. Everyone’s heard or even seen some of the things that are out there. Why would people need to lie, when all of that is already true? It wasn’t until some of her own teenage exploits started to be blown out of proportion that she started to grasp that the truth is often exaggerated in the telling, even when there is some truth. She never wrestled a monstrous squid creature on the docks and stabbed it through the eye with a spear. She stabbed a mostly dead squid creature on the docks, a prize from one of the Redfleet vessels that wasn’t quite as dead as everyone thought, and by more luck than judgement managed to be the one to get it where it counted. But to hear some people tell it, she was always a maritime monster hunter in the making. Aeveen never wanted to hunt anything. She wanted to learn about things. And at least some people, particularly the staff around the maritime museum that she constantly pestered growing up, did see and nuture that side of her. She has a compass, her most prized possession, given to her by one of the caretakers of the museum, maybe a little bit because Aeveen had more patience for her tales of her own long-gone glory days than most. She’s always looking for a crew to join, a taste of her discoveries waiting to happen.

(Aeveen’s connections from her type, focus and description were rolled/chosen as follows: “You worked alongside your father, who was skilled in many things, until he disappeared one day without explanation. Pick one other PC. This character believes you’re some kind of legend based on a decade-old story about you that’s grown in the telling. Sometimes, that makes you confident. Other times, it’s a lot to live up to. Link to starting adventure: Another PC told you what they were up to, and you joined them.” Earnest also gives you an addition item worth up to 10 shins that a friend gave you because of your earnestness, hence the compass).

Aeveen has also amassed an odd collection of objects over the years, from friends, from piles of junk stored in the back rooms of the maritime museum, and in one case literally washed up on the beach. She found a strange device in the back of the RFM storage once, an odd glove that felt weird, so she brought it to her caretaker friend, who confirmed that it was a numenera device that they’d forgotten to sell, something that would let her talk to someone she touched in their heads for a while. She might as well keep it, if she wanted. Another item was a gift to her from a woman who’d crewed with her parents once, a sort of gruff gesture of ‘I’m sorry they’re dead’. It was an ointment made from a strange sea creature, a vicious blue starfish creature, which would allow anyone who used it to regrow a limb just like that starfish. The woman had held up her own hand in demonstration, where three bright blue fingers and a part of the palm had been regrown from what had clearly been a bite mark. Aeveen hopes she’ll never have to use it, but, you know. It’s a handy thing to have if you ever do need your arm regrown after a sea monster bites it off? So she thanked the woman, entirely genuinely, and has kept the little tube on her person ever since. And then, one day not too long ago, she found a strange box washed up on the stones underneath the docks. Another of the sea’s strange gifts. A tiny little box, that she opened it showed her the vast emptiness between the stars. As above, so below. A world of mystery, like she’d always known. It only spurred her desire to make some part of it, some story of it, her own.

(I rolled in the Technology Compendium for her 2 cyphers and 1 oddity, and got the above. A Mental Coupling glove, a tube of Regrow, and a tiny box oddity that reveals the emptiness of space. The tube of regrow in particular felt very much like the sort of thing a town obsessed with the natural properties of oceanic life would have come up with, so that was fun).

So. Aeveen Seersha, a tough little scrapper with big dreams and maybe a teensy bit of a gullible streak, who wants to sail out into the wild blue yonder and make her mark on the world. Even if, like her parents, she has to die for it.

#numenera #character concepts #ttrpgs #sailors #street rats #oceanographers #marine explorers #redfleets #i love her already

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kolbisneat · 3 years

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MONTHLY MEDIA: March 2021

Hey March was a weird month what with all the pandemic anniversaries and such but here we are. It’s March. Goodbye March.

……….FILM……….

Attack the Block (2011) After about 20 minutes my partner asked if this was basically a British episode of Goosebumps and....she’s not wrong? I liked it back when it came out but it’s aged really well. Tight script and casual class politics along with the very good space stuff.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988) It turns out I’d remembered so little of this movie that it was essentially a fresh viewing. The artistry and ambition still holds up today plus a noir set in L.A. is always good time. But then you add cartoon hijinks and it’s all just that much better.

The New York Times Presents: Framing Britney Spears (2021) So we watched the ep on Britney Spears and...it didn’t really seem to cover all that much. It kept feeling like it was about to start and then after an hour and a half of that it just sorta wraps with a small legal victory. I know this isn’t fiction so I’m not expecting a happy ending, but I don’t know what it wanted to say.

CBS presents Oprah with Meghan and Harry (2021) I mean I don’t think anything said or shared was surprising anyone. Though I appreciate Oprah not letting either of them sidestep a question. Either answer or say you won’t; none of this fancy poetry.

……….TELEVISION……….

Great British Bake Off (Episode 9.01 to 9.04) This is our first season without Mary Berry, Sue, and Mel and it’s a real shift! But despite all the new faces, it still feels very much like the good-natured GBBO I’ve come to love. Great stuff.

City of Ghosts (Episode 1.01 to 1.06) I hope all that I’m seeing about this means that Netflix will greenlight another season and more television like this. The artistry is fantastic, the concept allows for both whimsy and poignancy, and it’s casually funny in a way that I can’t fully describe. Great stuff.

WandaVision (Episode 1.09) So this didn’t quite stick the landing for me. I figured there’d be some blasts and magic and zooming around in the sky, but I also assumed we’d get some resolution (maybe even consequences) for what Wanda did to the town. Sure, she’s not the villain and it wasn’t intentional, but the show appeared to be built around this theme of denial and acceptance yet abandoned that in the end. But I will give it this: it really has sold me on the relationship between Wanda and Vision.

The Night Manager (Episode 1.05 to 1.06) You know I think I’ve been so primed by Bond films and action set pieces that, while I won’t spoil the ending, I was pleasantly surprised by how it wrapped up. It was a nice change of pace.

The Bachelor (Episode 25.09 to 25.12) What a season. It was a mess, sure, but I also think it was the uncomfortable mix of stagnation and progress. The show needs to evolve and I feel like the finale and aftershow really highlighted that the change has to happen. Maybe it’s starting to happen already or in future seasons it’ll change whether production likes it or not.

……….READING……….

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (Complete) Really fantastic read and such an effortless blend of science fiction and...necromantic fantasy! Dark and gross and light and funny all at the same time. 100% recommend and am very excited for the next entry despite this feeling whole and complete on its own.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) I want to work my way through the series (or at least the original 14 written by Baum) so we gotta start at the beginning! There’s such a light air about the book that everyone kinda just rolls with everything. Sentient objects and talking animals and lots of murder are just met with a “Great! on to the next adventure!” and I love it.

The Marvelous Land of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) It’s really great that the second book has a lot of the same core components (human child meets a bunch of wacky sidekicks while on a very small adventure) yet casually expands the mythos and world. It even builds on the plot established by the first book (the main conflict revolving around Scarecrow being overthrown as leader of Oz ever since the Wizard disappeared). Great stuff.

Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) Bringing back Dorothy and it’s really a merging of characters from book 1 and 2. If anything, this series is shaping up to be about making friends and the genial conflict resolution is really heartwarming. Now i’m keen to watch Return to Oz.

Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) This might just be me but I find a mostly human cast (outside of Jim the Cab Horse) to be far less interesting than the diverse adventuring parties of the first three books. Lots of fun stuff in here and playing fast and loose with the world-building works well; highlight the fun parts of a land made of wood and then continue on to the next location! Great stuff.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 9 by Ryoko Kui (Complete) It feels like everything is starting to come together and wrap up and I’m totally here for a story that knows what it wants to do. And while there doesn’t seem to be as much room cooking with the overarching plot that is driving the story, it never feels like it’s moved away from the heart of the characters and for that I can’t recommend it enough. Excellent world-building, excellent cast, and really great humor.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The IDW Collection Volume 9 by Kevin Eastman, Tom Waltz, Mateus Santolouco, Dave Wachter, Pablo Tunica, Sophie Campbell, and many more! (Complete) The human/secret agent stuff will always be boring to me (even if they’re hunting the turtles) cause that’s not what I want in a comic. I don’t want Batman hunting burglars, I want bright colourful villains for our bright and colorful heroes. Luckily we get into a pocket dimension for a toad god and his relatives during the second half of the volume. Overall, still my favourite ooze series.

……….AUDIO……….

Musicalsplaining (Podcast) Great host dynamics and hot dang I love a good musical.

……….GAMING……….

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) The group has taken a break from the infected giant colony to sort out some Pirate drama! Further session breakdowns are over here on Reddit!

Dungeons & Designers (Podcast) I had the rare chance to play in a D&D campaign instead of run it and it’s even up online! They also air the sessions through their podcast!

And that’s it! As always, let me know anything you think I should check out and thanks for reading.

Happy Wednesday.

#Monthly Media #Kolbisneat #Andrew Kolb

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that-shamrock-vibe · 4 years

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Disney+ What To Watch: My Top 10 Favourite Direct-To-Video Disney Sequels

We’re on category four in my campaign to try brighten the dark times the world finds itself in at the moment due to the current pandemic. We’re now delving into the always controversial topic of Direct-to-Video Disney Sequels.

Just as a disclaimer, I am aware that the term “Video” is outdated these days and many people just say Direct-to-DVD, but I grew up when most of these Direct-to-Video movies were being released and whenever this topic is at its most controversial, the headline is usually Direct-to-Video.

Just to clarify, this is a list of the animated Disney sequels that Disney decided would be a good way of continuing the stories of some of their most classic animated features. Some were good, some were terrible, some even have more than one entry on this list.

As always, please remember that my thoughts and opinions are my own as I may be defending movies that others find ridiculous but I have reasons for liking all ten of these entries.

#10. Atlantis: Milo’s Return

I have to say the #10 entry and the honourable mentions are pretty much of the same level of enjoyment for me, but ultimately Atlantis 2 tipped it because I really had a fondness for the original movie and was surprisingly interested to find out what happened to these characters after the ending of it.

That being said I do understand the controversies with this movie, like other Direct-to-Video sequels, Disney came up with the idea of creating mini-backdoor pilots for potential animated shows disguised as feature-length movies. While some could get away with being mistaken for thought out sequels, Atlantis 2 is rumbled about 20-30 minutes into it when it is discovered that there are three stories in this movie and all are very loosely connected.

Now in a way, this does infuriate me as when I hear Atlantis is getting a sequel as a child I was very excited because I enjoyed the original so much, but as you get older and discover Disney’s true M.O, there’s only so much we as fans can fall for before the bull starts being called out.

All this being said, I did enjoy the three stories, the first one being this epic sea battle mimicking the leviathan battle from the first being, the second being more of a mystic western type of movie and the third actually bringing in Norse mythology several years before Thor was owned by the Mouse House. It’s just a shame that none of these stories were up to par with the first movie.

Even the animation style of this movie compared to the first takes a downgrade as most Direct-to-Video sequels did, while the animation styling was very precise in the first movie, this feels like it has had all of the life sucked out of it and left it feeling flat.

Complaints aside, I did enjoy seeing these characters back and the same voice actors were back to reprise their roles which was great. There isn’t a lot of development for these characters outside of Milo and Kida, but I guess in a movie subtitled “Milo’s Return” he does deserve the development and being married to Kida she also deserves the development.

They did do the fish out of water story slightly with her when she finally discovers what the surface world is like and throughout the movie it did kind of build it’s way for Kida to make her decision about the future of Atlantis and how it could mutually benefit the world and her kingdom for them to integrate. It’s a little bit like Killmonger’s Wakanda argument only Kida goes about it the right way.

The new characters introduced in this movie are not exactly memorable, to the point where I can’t remember any of their names aside from Odin...because he’s Odin...but also aside from the one Atlantean spear introduced in the second story that becomes a plot device in the third story, there is nothing really connecting the stories other than our main heroes.

The best new character for me was the rock-eating dog-like pet of Milo and Kida’s who befriends Mole due to their shared love of dirt. He’s a cute design and the fact he is a lava dog is quite creative, I’m just a sucker for cute animal sidekicks even in animation. I mean he’s no Bruni or Pua but being a simple throwaway side character was always on the agenda in this type of movie.

It’s a harmless movie, if you are like me and just want to see these characters in another story, or three, then this is probably the movie for you. The adventures are slightly pedestrian but just lite of what the earlier action sequences in the first movie were like and again, it’s not exactly a harmful movie.

So what do you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Disney+ What to Watch Top 10s as well as more Top 10 Lists and other posts.

#disney #disney+#disney plus #direct to video #disney+ what to watch top 10s #disney+ what to watch #my top 10 favourite direct-to-video disney sequels #atlantis #atlantis 2 #atlantis: the lost empire #atlantis the lost empire #atlantis milo's return #atlantis: milo's return

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literarygoon · 6 years

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So,

I’ve decided to publish another story from my manuscript.

This one’s called “Post-funeral”, and the main character is named Joel Bishop. He’s a friend of my main characters Paisley Troutman and Neil Solomon, and in this story his older brother has just committed suicide after running for political office in Garibaldi. It’s the 10th story in Whatever you’re on, I want some.

It’s raw.

The Literary Goon

Post-funeral

by Will Johnson

FIRST WE swallowed bitter shards of MDMA, spent hours slip-sliding over each other’s bodies giddy and feverish. I’d been staying at my brother’s mansion with my ex-girlfriend Kylie, up in Garibaldi, for nearly two weeks. We wandered the streets shirtless, dove into foggy backyard pools that didn’t belong to us. We did blow off the toilet tank. We sipped mushroom tea, pinkies erect, then watched Jurassic Park while we waited, dopily dragging on cigarettes and ashing on the freshly installed carpet. We smoked salvia and hash, hot-knifed thumb smudges of tar-black ooze. We were doing okay, food-wise: salmon steaks, cheese-drowned Tostitos, frozen blueberries. We drank Black Label and Bailey’s-infused coffee. Some days we binged on Chinese food and pizza; more often we wandered the linoleum barefoot and mind-fucked, sniffling and twitching, having forgotten what hunger feels like.

And whenever we got bored we circled the neighbourhood spearing my brother’s campaign signs onto unsuspecting people’s lawns, just to fuck with them. Vote for Joshua Bishop, indeed.

One night Kylie fled. I careened along shadowed boulevards in my brother’s minivan just after 3 a.m., wearing sweatpants and a pair of Santa Claus slippers, chain-smoking cigarettes to keep my headspace level. The night dew-misted my forearm hair from the open window. When my headlights slashed across a lawn three blocks over I glimpsed Kylie under an expansive, shadowed oak with thick, threatening arms. She was curled fetal, wearing red bikini bottoms, dollar store flip flops and my Garibaldi Elementary GRAD OF 2004 hoodie. As I lugged her limply off the grass a dog-walker in a peacoat paused on the sidewalk.

“She had a little too much to drink,” I explained. “We’re all good here.”

“And who are you to her, exactly?” he asked, cell phone palmed. “It looks like she needs some assistance.”

“We’re fine, honestly. I’m just taking her home.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

Kylie moaned in my arms as I lift-shoved her into the passenger seat. Her legs slackly dangled towards the concrete as I gathered up her feet and slammed the door shut behind her. Peacoat man flapped his arms, distressed and honking.

“If you fuck with me,” I said. “I’ll kill your little dog and drink its blood.”

I don’t remember what he said after that, but I do remember the electric surge of hatred that blood-dumped through my veins. This man’s banal existence, his uncomplicated morality, the look of fearful revulsion on his face—all of these offended some feral version of myself I’d unleashed during those weeks. I battered my chest, squeezing out wild tears, and roared in his face until he retreated with his little dog yipping.

Kylie wore a thick-padded bra with metal crescents scooping under each fleshy handful. She whined as I undressed her, paranoid of the oil-like substance pooling on the walls and overflowing into the living room ceiling. I worked my fingers under each goose-pimpled boob, inhaled her chest glister. Kylie wasn’t mine exclusively, but our experiences were our own. I took her earlobe in my mouth, her weight supported in my arms, and worked it with my tongue like a soother. We’d tired of our porn-inspired routines and were finding creative ways to exploit each other’s bodies lazily, gluttonously. A tweaked nipple on mushrooms is like a chest-explosion, while a firmly gripped dick on acid can change your life. Cheek to arm pit, sole to shin, elbow to pelvic bone, we chest-banged and hugged, childlike, in the trenches of our sweat-soiled blankets.

Then we slept.

Sometimes I get brain whispers from my former self, little buried guilt yelps from the Christian kid I used to be. He’s horrified. Kylie struggles to believe I used to be religious, that I used to keep a prayer journal, that I was once scandalized by swear words. She can’t visualize it, can’t reconcile it with the version of me that she knows: a hipster rich kid with no moral code to speak of. She can’t understand that it’s all the same impulse, that God is nothing more than the Drug of all Drugs, that the hardest thing I ever had to kick was Christianity. Driving by St. Catherine’s I’ve got multi-year histories flashing across my vision. Our youth pastor Trent Stonehouse sings at the front of the sanctuary, takes kids on missions trips to Tijuana and Brazil and the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver, and then there’s all the kids I knew—Amber, Turner, Paisley, Neil and Ty—they’re all memory-cached, worshipping with the Agape Soldiers onstage while I sway awkward in the pews and try to figure out how come I’m the only one who does’t seem to feel it. Sure, I’ve felt the Holy Spirit before—or at least I believed I felt it at the time—and I’ve been one of those ultra-pious kids seizing on the ground, overcome as the Church Moms lay blankets over our God-blissed teenage bodies. Slain in the spirit.

But spiritual awakenings wear off. Slowly, one day after the next, I felt the emotional intensity drain. Outside the context of the St. Catherine’s sanctuary all the meaning dribbled out until I had to go back, soul-hungry, for more. Being a disciple of Christ meant living this special type of life, meant elevating yourself from the mundanity. At Camp Evergreen, around the campfire, we sang “Jesus, I am yours” and two hours later Rachel Peachland gave me a hand job behind the girl’s cabin line, a frantic and gasp-filled spectacle in the shadows. I was a little perv, shame-soaked but undeterred, obsessed with girls but convinced that every lustful thought was a freshly disgusting sin, something to beg forgiveness for. Do you know how exhausting it is to be ashamed all the time? To spend your life hearing how sinful and hopeless you are without Jesus?

Turner used to say the whole point of grace is you don’t need to feel guilt, that God’s already forgiven you before you even dream up our next transgression.

But who said we need to be forgiven at all?

“If you could go back and be Christian again, would you do it?” Kylie asked, morning squinting in my brother’s bed, her voice grumbly from sixteen hours of sleep. I gripped sleepily at my dick while urine hammered into the shower drain.

“I think about that every day.”

“And?”

“Are we talking like a lobotomy-type solution here? Like would I have to give up part of my brain?”

“No, just say you believed again.”

“The thing is, to make that happen I’d have to give it up.”

“What?”

“My doubt. My fucking reason. I’d have to give up my whole personality.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Yes necessarily. Unless God fucking prances in here and goes ‘hey, Joel, I’m fucking real’, this shit isn’t going to happen.”

I slump into her lap. Kylie was born in a Burmese orphanage, got adopted by white Canadians. Didn’t find that out until three months into our thing, when I met her crazy Mom. She kept all that to herself, and I understood why. People project shit, put labels on you. Who wants to be the starving kid from one of those World Vision commercials? She didn’t want pity; she just wanted to be Kylie.

I liked her way more than I realized.

“But what if the thing with Trent never happened?”

“It wasn’t about him. I stopped going to St. Catherine’s way before all that shit in Mexico, before any of those other guys.”

“Do you think he raped anyone you know? Like anyone in the youth group?”

“Fuck, what’s gotten into you?”

“I’m just so curious. I’ve never met someone who knew a real child molester.”

“You talk like it’s a movie star or something.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“So what do you think? Do you think he was doing like pervy, Catholic-style shit?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“But what do you think?”

“I mean they say he molested this Mexican kid, right? Or two of them? That’s why he got arrested originally, in Tijuana. But they never came up with any Canadian victims.”

“Who’s they?”

“Investigators or whatever. He was down there for eleven years years, and it’s kind of like why press charges and do all that work if he’s not even in Garibaldi?”

“Shit.”

“But eventually they figure he’ll be back, right? I mean, the Mexicans can’t keep him forever.”

“When is that going to be?”

“The system’s so corrupt down there. Guilty til proven innocent, all that.”

“Turner told me he got letters.”

“From Trent?”

“Yeah, a while back he was telling me stories about Trent. He told me the letter said ‘you can’t turn your back on God’ and ‘don’t let this be an excuse to lose your faith’, all this shit.”

“Are you serious?”

“From prison he was giving him a sermon!”

“Fuck.”

“I mean, we were smoking a joint but I’m pretty sure he was telling the truth. Wasn’t he like Trent’s little favourite? Do you think it was him Trent messed with?”

I’ve considered that plenty of times, but it’s different to say out loud.

“Trent had a weird thing with Paisley Troutman, one of the girls in the worship band. People were gossiping about that for years.”

“But doesn’t he fuck little boys?”

“Yeah, but maybe he’s just like a non-discriminating deviant, right? Just raping whoever, wherever. Dudes’ fucking evil.”

“I heard there’s some people that think he’s still innocent.”

I light a cigarette, roll across the bed and go looking for blow.

“I’m not one of them,” I say.

Kylie sat cross-legged and hungover in the minivan’s passenger seat, reorganizing her purse while we descended the Sea to Sky. Cliffs draped with steel netting loomed to our left. To the right was nothing but open, cloudless sky. The road slalomed along the mountain slope, twist-rising and falling just as quickly. Ocean air swirled around us. A grey thumb of stone emerged in the distance, thrusted up hitchhiker-style, with a few stubborn bushes defiantly alive atop it’s wind-blasted summit forty feet above the road.

The mansions along the highway—stilted and gleaming in the trees—reflected the Pacific’s blue glow from giant mirrored windows. These were the people in my brother’s voting district, who had proudly displayed his campaign signs so they would be visible for commuters passing through the construction progress below. Vote for Joshua Bishop.

No more.

“The last shit we got from Turner was dirty,” Kylie mumbled. “Fucking weak.”

“That wasn’t his regular guy.”

“Says him.”

A bored, sunburned teenager wearing a Solomon Development Ltd. uniform waved us off the highway, past some pylons and orange fencing, and towards the razed shoulder currently being paved. Steamrollers grumbled a few kilometres further on, while in front of us six men guided a crane-suspended concrete median into place. I parked beside a line of trucks facing oceanward, overlooking Howe Sound, and texted Turner. Within a few minutes he appeared, knuckle-rapping the window, and Kylie unlocked the sliding door behind her.

“You two’ve been voracious lately,” Turner said. “You’re outpacing my coworkers, even.”

Kylie ignored him, sullen.

“I’ve got five hundred here, that’s two for last time and three for now,” I said.

“And you’ve got time for a couple lines now?”

An ice-blue sky populated with drifting gulls appeared as I took my first hit. Their beak-tips were dolloped with bright red. I thumbed a nostril for leverage, snorted with all my might, and sucked back. It filled me like sunlight. Wave-crests built frothing and burst into chaos amidst the rocks below.

“That feels better, huh?” said Turner. “I’m gonna fire through my afternoon.”

“I don’t know how you do this dip-shit job, man.”

“Whatever.”

“I would feel like one of those historical Chinese guys they used to dynamite the tunnels, you know? Like some expendable pawn they use for the hard labour. A slave they can just blow up whenever they feel like.”

“Yeah, so what’s your fucking job, Bishop?”

Kylie dabbed residue on her gums, sucking her finger. The world continued outside our windshield, introduced a dangling silhouette to our view-scape. It took me a moment to take this character in: parachuting past with some magical floating canopy, he was trailing an unfurled sign that read NO OLYMPICS ON STOLEN NATIVE LAND while filming with a camera strapped to his wrist. He was wearing those stupid shoes with individual toes, the ones rich men wear, and spandex head to toe—like some gravity-defying ninja spirit. I almost laughed.

How long had he prepared for this moment? What did he imagine he would see, hanging suspended and superior over us? The afternoon wind carried him sideways, tilting.

“Look at that piece of shit,” said Turner. “Look at him flying high.”

On the way back to town, Kylie asked if we could swing by her friend Lauren’s place. She lived in one of the new townhouses by the highway, Garibaldi Estates, on the fifth floor.

“This bitch owes me like a hundred bucks,” Kylie said as we rode the elevator up. “She’s always doing shit like this, and I can’t let her get away with it. You know what I mean?”

I shrugged.

The hallway hung silent following Kylie’s door-battering, but after a minute or two the door rattled and opened. A girl wearing a short pink bathrobe leaned into view, her bed-shagged hair streaked a similar hue. Her eyes were half-closed.

“Uh huh,” she said.

“You gonna let us inside?” Kylie asked.

“I’ll come out’n talk,” she said, pained.

I pretended to ignore them while they argued in the hallway, and watched as a dishevelled crow shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the roof, its talons clicking, just outside the window. Kylie paced shouting while Lauren listened bored with her beautiful brown legs.

Eventually Kylie turned back to me, exasperated. “Let’s go, Joel.”

Once we got back on to the Juan de Fuca Hill she held out her palm, two chalky pills cradled in the creases.

“This is supposed to be boss stuff. It’s K. She didn’t have any cash.”

How can I capture that moment? Kylie halfway-swivelled against the seatbelt, her forehead salmon pink from the sun and her white palm-skin outstretched. The grassy bluffs leading up towards the towering dominance of Mount Garibaldi were stretched out behind her, floating and blurred, while within the carpeted boundaries of our little vehicle we were safety-bathed by the air conditioning. I swallowed the pill. We hurtled towards our future.

“Will you put some more signs up with me later?” I asked. “After?”

“Of course.”

“There’s still so many, babe.”

“We can put up as many as you want, babe.”

Sixteen years old I thumb-dabbed my goggles, donkey-kicking, my headphones tucked under my swim cap. The finals heat for the 100 butterfly at provincial championships, and I was the one standing in front of Lane 4. Ty was there, Sketch and Neil too. I spat air, flailed, my feet splashing on the tiles. I expected to win my whole life, always anticipated easy victory—what does that say about me? I had this daily suspicion that I was a little more interesting than everyone else, a little more talented. My brother Josh was the same way, and all during the campaign I wonder if he had any idea how wrong things could go, how easily his future would evaporate. Vote for Joshua Bishop. I can see his temp’s bemused face, the self-satisfied sneer, as he ruined my family’s life with every fucking word he spoke. As soon as my brother’s news went public, our family scattered into our own grief trajectories, none of us sure how to handle the sudden scrutiny. And before we could decide whether we forgave him, before we could prove to him that being a part of the Bishop family means more than some sex scandal, some political campaign, before my father could even talk to him, he was gone. The ocean will take us all, I figure, but we were left with his body, shower-dangling, at his mansion in Garibaldi. That house! White carpets like cat fur underfoot. This is where I belonged, not slave-waging away in Vancouver.

Underwater is where I feel best, dolphin-kicking streamlined. Life made sense at 16, when my evening revolved around 58 seconds of frenzied exertion. Fuck real life and the future and the present moment too because I’m suspended mid-dive, dripping, while around me the bleachers erupt with cheering. Ice-wind slashes my cheekbones and stings my eyes shut.

Rotting clumps of mown grass collected on my boots as I worked my way up the St. Catherine’s lawn, past the youth trailer in the parking lot, up towards the stained glass window at the apex of the sanctuary. As kids we played this game called Gestapo where the youth leaders would chase us through the streets of Garibaldi with flashlights while we raced from Diefenbaker Park to the safety of the church. I scanned the treeline for spectators, but I was alone. I was thinking about this thing Turner once told me, about how we’re all just energy morphing from one form to the next. In reality, he was the first one to ditch on Jesus. He was braver than I was, less scared of the social consequences, or maybe he was just more honest.

“When I die and go to Heaven, I’m going to walk into the throne room of God and I’ll have three simple words for him: what the fuck?” Turner told me, perched in the Sky Train window, when I asked him about why he wasn’t coming to church anymore.

“If you had kids, what could they do to stop you from loving them?” he asked me.

“Nothing, I guess.”

“So why are we worshipping a deity who routinely condemns whole swaths of society to Hell? It’s so fucking arbitrary, Bishop! You’re born in India, you’re fucked. You’re born in China, you’re fucked. But if you’re a white Christian dude, everything will be fine and you’ll be a happy little saved boy.”

I didn’t know what to say then, and I still don’t now.

“A God like that doesn’t deserve my love.”

The way Turner talked, he didn’t miss religion. He didn’t miss understanding everything, having that communal reassurance. He liked to be an outlier, a rebel, a heathen.

“You can’t spend your whole life pretending,” Turner said. “Sooner or later you have to admit we wasted our teenage years on a medieval crock of bullshit.”

All that meaning, all those years of prayer, all that struggling and learning—for what? I speared the first campaign sign firmly beside St. Catherine’s front entrance, another one beneath its stained glass, and the final one at the top of their hilly lawn. My brother’s plastic face smiling from each one. Then I sat, butt-damp in the grass, and lit a cigarette. My brother was 33 years old when he died, the same age they nailed Jesus to a fucking cross, but he wasn’t dying for any reason. He didn’t get to close his eyes knowing he’d made some huge sacrifice, knowing that he left the world a better place than when he arrived. My brother died tormented and hopeless, kicking against the porcelain, and who deserves that? How come he got hand-picked for that fate? I felt personally robbed of decades of experience, of the chance to see his face wrinkle, his voice change, his hair go white like Dad’s.

“I really wanted to believe in You,” I told the looming, dark church. “If I had a choice, I’d still be here. You know that.”

I couldn’t believe I was praying. I was still high.

“If there’s something more to this, something I’m missing…I guess what I’m saying is if you’re going to keep me around, You’re going to have to do something.”

I sat there quiet, wondering what God could do, short of flashing across the sky in all His radiance, to convince me of His presence. I heard this quote once, attributed to a 16th century hymn writer: “a God comprehended is not God”. If that’s true, then why even attempt to grasp the mystery? Why call out to Him, why pray, why devote yourself to a deity who can’t (or won’t) respond? When I was a kid I used to make little faith bargains, sending mental requests for God to manipulate the circumstances around me. (“If you really exist, make that kid put something in the garbage can as he walks by.”) Sometimes it even worked. It was like having an Almighty, imaginary friend. But now I’m an adult, a real person, I’ve read fucking Nietzsche. I won’t be so easy to convince. A warm feeling in my chest won’t be enough, a whispered voice deep in my psyche was completely inadequate. I needed something tangible, a Burning Bush-style sign, and I would accept nothing short of a miracle. Maybe my brother could bound out of one of his election signs, let me know this was all an elaborate dream sequence, or maybe Trent would materialize in front of me and explain what happened down in Mexico all those years ago. He’ll tell me our youth group’s implosion was part of some larger, mystical scheme, that St. Catherine’s has some continued role to play in my life.

Or what? An angel! A demon! Anything. These sorts of visions end up in sermons and heartfelt testimonies, in parables. These experiences alter people’s entire lives, give them purpose and direction. Why not me? Why couldn’t I, just once, be allowed a glimpse of something beyond all this? Why couldn’t I be the one with the faith, the one who understands the light while everyone else stands in the dark?

“Will You speak to me?” I said, my voice trembling. “Are You there?”

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themousai · 5 years

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Gig Review: Nina Nesbitt - The Tuning Fork [01/06/19]

Scottish Pop sensation, Nina Nesbitt, shared her warm and welcoming spirit with Auckland on Saturday night as she belted out strong vocals and connected with the crowd so effortlessly. The Tuning Fork was packed full of fans, super eager to catch her latest album live, fittingly titled, The Sun Will Come Up, The Seasons Will Change. Nina Nesbitt was supported by the incredible, Paige. Paige kicked the night off with some smooth moves and singer-songwriter melodies. It was great to see the similarity between Nina Nesbitt and Paige. Nina started her career doing singer songwriter EP’s and has grown and developed so much since her earlier releases. It made me eager to see what Paige gets up to over the next few years!

Auckland artist, Paige, started off the night with her singer songwriter magic. The crowd were engaged by her smooth vocals and fun personality. Before she treated the crowd to her first single, So Far, Paige explained how much the song meant to her. "Billie Eilish actually shared this song and it really helped me with my music". She also covered a crowd favourite, the TLC classic - No Scrubs, which got the crowd grooving and singing along. One of my favourite tracks from her set was, Bloom. It reminded me of artists like Corinne Bailey Rae and Ms. Lauryn Hill.

Paige’s set was short and sweet but finished with an incredible new track titled, Can't Back Out. Late last year I saw Paige perform at The Tuning Fork with Auckland artists, Daffodils and Bene. It was so lovely seeing how far she has come and how confident she has become over a small amount of time. Paige is crushing it and if you haven’t caught her live yet, be sure to check out her music as soon as you get a chance. Her sublime singer songwriter sounds are the perfect thing to warm you up this winter.

After a quick break, the lights dimmed and Nina Nesbitt’s band jumped on stage before an uproar from the crowd echoed throughout the room as Nina walked up to the mic stand. As mentioned before, the songs from Nina Nesbitt’s latest album, The Sun Will Come Up, The Seasons Will Change, couldn’t have been more fitting for her first New Zealand show. We were treated to the upbeat track, Colder, from her latest album along with songs like Empire and The Best You Had. I really appreciate the early noughties girl band inspired sound of her latest album which was released earlier this year in February. It was so great to hear live and you could see the crowd feeling nostalgic and empowered throughout the whole set. Nina Nesbitt includes a lot of empowering and honest lyrics throughout her music, and it was so comforting hearing the music connect with the crowd so strongly.

Every moment was inclusive as Nina jumped around the stage. She even jumped down into the crowd a few times to have a groove with some fans which was super sweet. Along with her latest album, Nina also performed a few of her older tracks which was such a treat. She played 2016 track Chewing Gum, and one of my favourites, The Apple Tree, which was shared during the encore. Nina has created some incredible work over the past few years including the release of her track, Psychopath, which was such a great track to hear live. Nina explained how this song was created and features some kick ass women including Charlotte Lawrence and Sasha Sloan. It was released as part of the ‘Louder Together’ campaign which was the first ever collaborative Spotify Singles recording. Nina explained “we only had 6 hours to meet each other and write a song and put it out!”. The song was beautiful live, I couldn’t believe it only took 6 hours to write, record and produce!

When Nina shared her track, Empire, with the crowd she gave us such an inspiring description of the lyrics, “so this next one is on the album, it's about when you're a kid and you fantasize about what you want to be when you're older. This song is about the mentality you have towards your passion and believing in yourself. It’s called Empire”. It was so surreal seeing Nina live as around 7 years ago I first stumbled upon her EP, The Apple Tree. Her tours used to be a lot more intimate in smaller venues before she started doing huge tours all over the world. Luckily, her show in Auckland on Saturday was pretty similar to the likes of her earlier shows. Nina was super appreciative of this as there were “no big lights or fancy production just me and you.” Her next track, Things I Say When You Sleep, was a tearjerker as it was so honest and sweet, Nina introduced it as being about “all the intricacies of a new relationship.”

A little later on in the night Nina had shared an exciting moment as she had just found out recently Taylor Swift had added one of her songs to a playlist which Taylor described as “the soundtrack to my life.” Nina went on to say “I thought that was pretty cool because she was the reason I picked up a guitar when I was 15.” The stories and moments she shared with the crowd were so special. At one point Nina jumped into the crowd to sing the Destiny’s Child hit, Say My Name, just so she could dance with a few fans who were front and center. Ending Nina Nesbitt’s show was a super impressive encore, she played 5 tracks including, The Apple Tree, Stay Out, The Sun Will Come Up The Seasons Will Change, Loyal To Me and a kick ass cover of Britney Spears, Toxic. Nina shared so many memories and special moments with the crowd throughout her set. It was truly something special. Fans were dancing and smiling through each song with their eyes wide and hearts full.

Despite being miles away from home and travelling such long distances to get to New Zealand, Nina Nesbitt put on such an incredible show at The Tuning Fork. Her fans walked away empowered and motivated. Nina’s support towards her fans, team and to the talented, Paige, was awe-inspiring. There couldn’t have been a better way to spend a stormy Saturday night. If you haven’t checked out Nina Nesbitt or Paige, but are into bad ass babes with incredible talent, be sure to follow their links below so you can keep up to date with future shows and releases!

PHOTOS Nina Nesbitt

Nina Nesbitt Facebook | Instagram | Youtube | Spotify

Paige Facebook | Instagram | Youtube | Spotify Review and Photographs by Helena Barnett

#nina nesbitt #helena barnett #reviews #paige #nz #new zealand

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