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jim-the-simpleton · 2 years

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A Handsome Stranger - Story -1 of 54

This is the third and final story from 2021 that I will be posting. This one’s very short, as the contest I wrote it for wanted briefer entries. I still haven’t found out the results of that contest, so fingers crossed I win something good!

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A Handsome Stranger (November 2021)

It was the end of my shift when I saw him.

It was impossible not to see him. Working at a corner gas station, you get used to the classic double take. Everybody needs gas in their car, even the weirdos, clad in anything from a speedo in January to full body armor in July. This man, however, wasn’t a weirdo.

At least, probably not. He wore a full gray suit and tie, with short cropped brown hair and the kind of chiseled face you would swear jumped right out of some film noir set. Maybe he was an actor. He filled a boxy silver Cadillac with unleaded and paid at the pump, before walking in and buying a pack of cigarettes and a lottery ticket. You’d be surprised what kinds of people would even bother with those things, but I never judged. They were fun - and you technically had a chance at winning.

We barely exchanged words beyond the standard customer service fare. He went to move his car from the pump and into one of the open parking spaces, right below a streetlamp and just a few steps from my hatchback. The night was thick and dark, and the light flooded over him and the Cadillac as he parked and left the car to check his scratch off, the light gleaming from every chromed edge of the car.

I continued the last five or ten minutes of my shift while keeping an eye on him, watching as he bent over the hood of his car to play the lottery, and as he stood up and leaned against the car, smoking from the pack he just bought. In hindsight, I probably should have stopped him; he wasn’t dangerously close to the pumps, but it is a matter of principle to stop anyone from smoking anywhere in the parking lot. However, my coworkers let me off, and I started toward my car. Suddenly, he called out, “Excuse me?”

I turned to face him, and he dropped and crushed the cigarette below his polished shoe. He beckoned for me to come to him. “Something I can help you with?” I asked.

“Actually, yeah, there is. Can you pay this out?” He held up the lotto ticket. “It isn’t the jackpot, but I just won about thirty bucks on this.”

“You can get that sorted inside, with the cashiers.” I was tired.

“Ok, alright. Just, another thing.” He looked at me for a second, silently. “Can I trust you to run a job for me? It’s a bit of work, but you’ll be well compensated.”

I’ll admit, I was curious. Nine times out of ten, I would expect anybody asking me that question to want a quick screw, but he seemed like the one. “Shoot.”

He nodded, seeming to size me up. “There’s a briefcase in the backseat of this car. Inside there’s $20,000 in cash. Half of it is yours if you take it upstate to San Francisco.”

I was taken aback. “Half?”

He nodded.

“San Francisco though, that’s an overnight trip,” I said.

“Then you better start driving. There’s more instructions in the glovebox. You in?”

I was, and he handed the keys off to me. I rushed back into the gas station to grab an energy drink and the biggest cup of coffee I could buy, and I entered the Cadillac.

It took just a moment to get a feel for the leather seats and what seemed like luxury design to someone who’d been driving their starter car since high school. I collected myself and opened the glovebox. If I had any doubts that what I was doing was illegal in any way, they were quickly silenced by the 9mm pistol that tumbled out onto the passenger seat and into the footwell, chrome and engraved with fine detailing. It seemed nothing about this stranger offering me $10k was subtle or legal.

The instructions were similarly elegant, printed with a thin script font on white printer paper.

Take the car.

Drive upstate to the parking lot behind Louie’s West Coast Pub.

Remove the license plates.

Wait for a bald man in a blue suit to retrieve the briefcase.

Destroy these instructions.

I started the car and began heading north, following the path my cracked iPhone recommended to me. As I got onto the busiest highway in the city, I crumpled the paper and tossed it out the open window.

The drive to San Francisco was always going to be boring, but considering it was about $1000 to $2000 an hour to complete, I didn’t mind. I navigated the crackling of several radio stations looking for music to assuage my reservations with this job, but there was very little music to find between the talk shows desperately calling for my attention. I settled on silence.

Driving was peaceful. Watching the occasional streetlamps fly overhead as I drove in tandem with the usual crowd seemed hypnotic, and my caffeinated beverages did nothing to keep my eyes open. That job went to the briefcase in the back, with its black leather and gold latches. Against the pale brown interior of the car, it seemed supernatural. It very clearly did not belong in this car, and its contents mesmerized me too much for me to be able to fall asleep at the wheel.

That was when I realized I hadn’t ever seen the inside of the briefcase. It was possible there wasn’t any money in it at all. I tried to settle my mind by telling myself that it wasn’t worth the trouble to check for myself. It failed to put me at ease. I had to know. I had to see. And so I put my warning lights on and pulled over to the side, the deep silhouette of the pines looming against a false black sky.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and put the briefcase in my lap, feeling the gold trim with my thumbs. I braced myself for anything that wasn’t cash - cocaine, a severed hand, anything that could possibly fit into the strange narrative the night had made for me. And as I opened, I found bricks of cash neatly arranged in perfect little rows, a note on top in the same script font.

Take half.

Leave the rest for the driver.

I sighed. It seemed impossibly true, impossibly honest, from someone so mysterious. Why me? Why so much trust? We had never met before, and here we were, locked in perfect mutual necessity. I didn’t even know his name.

I closed the briefcase and threw it in the backseat. I wanted to keep going, but I knew better than to drive while my hands were still shaking.

But they wouldn’t stop. New colors entered my vision to drown the neutral tones of the silver Caddy and its brown seats, and I realized that red and blue were not the kind of lights I wanted to see. I wish my exchange with the police involved more tension, more excitement in this strange story that I would never be able to explain, but instead they simply told me to leave the car. When I left, they instantly arrested me. The plates were marked as stolen.

As one of them searched the car, I tried explaining to the other why I wasn’t guilty, that I was given this vehicle, but he didn’t want to hear it. Or, he simply couldn’t hear me. Same result. The other found the cash, found the engraved pistol, and my world instantly caved in.

Panic set in, and I began my blubbering. I knew I was talking over myself, restrained and afraid, about a handsome stranger giving me his car and saying I could have half the cash. Of course the car was stolen. Why didn’t I think of that? What was wrong with me?

The same questions from before raced in my mind. Why me? Why did he have to pick me?

***

I was tried in San Francisco and did my time in Alcatraz. So close.

My landlord from LA rented my place to somebody else, so I found an unstable job and an unaffordable apartment in San Francisco. I became a pretty damn good bartender at the kind of bar that calls it a pub in the U.S. without a hint of self-awareness, but it paid. It felt like my past was starting to get behind me.

But it was the end of my shift when I saw him again. It had been years, but I knew it was him. Different suit, different car, but he didn’t age a minute. Out the window, I saw him in the back parking lot, talking to a busboy. I couldn’t hear him, but I knew what he was saying. Take the car to LA and you get half the cash in the backseat. As that naïve kid got into the car, I could feel the stranger’s gaze loom toward me. He smiled, and tipped his hat.

#short story #writing #2021

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fuck-customers · 6 years

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Another tale from an ex-gas station employee

So a little bit ago saw a post about a girl getting accused of being racist and it brought up a couple doozies from when I worked for the orange triangle. From MY experience if I was a different skin tone from a customer and didn’t cater to their every whim I was racist. Warning long one. Mainly it’s a tale of telling a couple customers store policy/the law and because they weren’t getting their way from me, me being a different skin tone, and working at a small gas two gas station off the highway I obviously had to be racist. 🙄 First one: For this one please note at our store unless you wanted a computer pick on any lotto game you Have to fill out a slip and there is a big sign over the lotto scorcher explaining this. It’s store owner polity since unwanted wanted slips can’t be voided. Anyway was working with a cashier from another store cause we were mega understaffed. We were getting busy and had this older black lady walk in. I think nothing of it as I see her out of the corner of my eye at out lotto/scratch off corner. Well after I finish with the customer in front of her I get lotto lady since my temp coworker was busy. Well before I can even get a word in she starts rattling off all these numbers for daily 4 and how she wants them. And I mean fast rattling so I can only register fully every other number. Finally I stop her explaining how I was sorry but she HAD to use a bet slip if she wanted specific numbers. Store policy. She got all snappy sayin how it was only a “couple” numbers and her normal store in Detroit always dose it for her. Again I explain how it’s policy and I’m sorry. She gets all bitchy as I had her a couple slips, form the display box she had to have seen while looking at our corner before coming up, saying how she doesn’t even know how to use the things. So I try to help her but she won’t let me. Finally she fills them out at for not her “couple” turn out to be ten different sequence of numbers. As I’m starting to check her out she starts to bitch me out saying how I’m treating her like this cause she’s black and I’m from some hick town in the middle of no where. I snarked how it had NOTHING to do with the color of her skin then to have a nice day before helping to person behind her. Temp coworker said she was surprised I didn’t kick her out for how rude she was getting. It was tempting. Case two: just before I quit we had a policy that unless it was a regular and they were buying cigs you had to scan the id; or at the very least type in the birthday with the id in hand. Well a corker was on my til so I could run to the bathroom before she left. Since after that I would have been alone for two hours. Well I come out to hearing this guy just yelling cussing her out. I’m thinking wtf she’s the sweetest lady here Why is this jerk cussing at her so I walk up and she all she is asking is for his id! He looks to be early 20s so dude your gonna get carded that’s how it goes. Well I take over and he snapped if I needed his id to. My answer is yes it’s not only store policy but the law if you look under a certain age to card when getting age restricted items. When he turned to his buddy and asked him to buy I explained his friend couldn’t buy for him it’s illegal and I won’t do it. Set the jerk off even more saying how we were all racist against him and he just wanted his pack of smokes. I must have lost my customer face cause he buddy suddenly started trying to get him lo leave after that. Guy wasn’t having any of it and finally I guess he realized he wasn’t going to bitch his way out of needing his id he pulled it out of his pocket! Had it on him the whole time! I scan it and it’s good. Ok I ring him out and he pays in cash. Go to give him his change and he pulls his hand away last second so it falls on my counter. Remarks how it’s karma and I’ll get mine for treating him like that. His buddy dose make him leave after that because I know I have a look on my face warning I was about to punch his face in. As they leave another gentleman walks up so I take a deep breath and calmly wait on him. Finishing up my day. Hope the last guy eventually gets hit by a scooter. Jerk head. Getting hostile just because we needed to see his id since he was buying cigs when he had it on him. So ya my two fun interactions with people where I was being ‘racist’ for following company policy and the law for the last one. My policy always is unless your a jerk to me first I will treat you politely. Soon as you turn I will give whatever attitude you are giving me right back. (Sorry no tags tried to and nothing will type. On mobile)

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sunlitroom · 6 years

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Gotham – s4e18 – That’s Entertainment!

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham:

Jerome invaded a beautiful 1960s office building to find his estranged brother, Xander Wilde. Then he did find him, and told him he was going to drive him mad. In an outrageously dull and dumb storyline, Barbara is apparently the demon’s head. Bruce didn’t kill Jerome, and now he feels bad about it. Jerome has a plan to turn the city into a madhouse.

As always, long post will be long. There are likely to be rambling digressions. Gobblepot might appear (although I welcome all shippers and non-shippers alike :)). There will be naked favouritism and naked not-favouritism. Broader comments at the end on plotlines and parallels and general direction.

The interim mayor is holding a meeting in front of a large painting (did anyone catch what it was?). A representative is there from the Moral Authority Society, as well as Gotham’s ‘Mother of the Year’, and the Police Commissioner.

The Moral Authority woman is making outraged noises about criminals taking office and gunfights in the streets. Those are both definitely Bad Things, but anyone from anything called the Moral Authority Society is so instantly intolerable that criminals in office and gunfights look just fine and dandy in comparison.

The interim mayor tells Moral Authority woman, Mrs Haverstock, that they have been working to improve the way the city conducts itself.

The lights go out. The mayor sends a bodyguard to see what’s going on. The people round the table shiver suddenly, and wonder if a window has blown open.

They all stand about anxiously – and then stare as Victor strides in, giving them a dry good evening.

They ask what’s going on, but Jervis now appears and tells them there’s no time for questions – they’re needed elsewhere.

Outside, Jervis and Victor usher into the mayor into a van containing a smirking Jerome, Firefly, and a very pretty-looking Oswald. This is the problem with Gotham - the villains are all absurdly hot. Law and order just isn’t as enticing.

The mayor instantly demonstrates how completely full of bullshit he was earlier by blurting out that he has access to the police pension fund. Jerome shrugs at this, unimpressed. The mayor turns to Bridget – saying her knows her. He can offer her money and a new home.

Bridget smiles at him, and says that it was people like him who got her locked up in Strange's lab – the result of which being there is no Bridget anymore.

Getting desperate, he turns to Jervis and offers him a pardon. Even Jervis looks baffled by that one. I don’t like Jervis’ new coat. It’s not half as nice as his old overcoat. The collar sits all funny, and I don’t like the cape.

Jervis makes some noise about how they’re visionaries.

Finally, he looks to Oswald

Oswald - can't you do something?

Oswald looks back at him. He plainly wants to do something, but can't be seen to be a dissenting voice.

Absolutely not. I am with Mr Valeska 100 percent of the way.

The mayor says cops looking are looking for him and there’ll be no mercy, just bullets.

Jerome tells him he’s so serious – and that’s why his approval ratings are so low. He needs to smile more. He puts an arm round Oswald’s shoulders, and Oswald offers a fake smile in agreement.

Jerome goes on to comment that it’s time to give the city the boost it needs. Jonathan sprays the mother of the year with some of the purple gas. As her vision blurs, and she starts to convulse, we hear Jerome say

Come on, Gotham what do you have to lose? Except your sanity.

From the back of the van, Oswald watches – wide-eyed and pale. He’s terrified.

Bruce and Alfred in the garage at Wayne Manor. Bruce asks why they’re there – and Alfred drops a small box into his hands, and wishes him happy birthday. Bruce smiles

You remembered

You think, Bruce?

Alfred says of course did. He bloody loves Bruce’s birthdays. His seventh was a blinder. Bruce got a little red truck which he took outside and played with alone. When Alfred found him, he was gathering stones in order to build a secret place for it.

Bruce smiles – touched that he remembers - and opens the box. It's a car key. He presses the button, and a very fancy car starts up. Even Bruce, who must be used to fancy cars, is impressed.

Alfred – I don't know what to say

Alfred tells him all the fancy specs. 5 litre, 460 horsepower. Matte black. Bulletproof. Ye gods - the insurance will be astronomical.

Bruce hugs him. Alfred is also moved.

Aw, mate

GCPD- where Jim is telling Harvey about the kidnap - everyone is out searching. Harvey says he was going to say that he had won 100 bucks from a scratch-off lotto ticket and was going to suggest they go blow it at the track and the pub. I’m not sure whether Harvey’s just being flippant here but – if not – some of this might help explain why he was having money problems earlier in the season.

Jim’s phone rings.

We need to talk

Oswald

I’ll be out back - come alone

Jim hurries downstairs to the evidence room, where there is a persistent knocking at the door.

This is a first

Apparently, Jim and Oswald haven’t yet used the evidence room for one of their exciting clandestine meetings. That’s the only part of this that I’m buying as ‘a first’, Jim.

Oswald is agitated, and asks Jim if he’s doing anything about Jerome. Jim asks if he knows where he is. Oswald tells him that going in all guns blazing would not help. He also tells him that everyone is under his thumb – they’re all part of his dark, terrible plan.

Jim asks what the plan is. Oswald tells him about the gas Jonathan’s made. Jim asks if it’s like the fear toxin. Oswald says this is much worse. It’s not neutralised by water or concentrating really hard, for a start. He saw it turn someone into a maniacal cackling violent animal.

Jim demands more information. Really, Jim – I think this is more than you had before, so let’s be grateful.

Oswald protests. He says Jerome doesn't share his full plans- he’s not stupid. They’re all assigned separate tasks. Jim snarls – asking why he’s come if he won’t help him. Jim, he is. You know now that all the villains are likely to carrying out individual missions at different parts of the city; that – if caught – it’s a waste of time to interrogate them about Jerome’s master plan; that a poison gas is involved, so there’s likely to be a need for Jerome to find a way to circulate it widely; and that this gas is essentially a way of weaponizing the public – so you need huge containment measures in place. C’mon now. Lazy writing. You can have him desperately ask Oswald for more information– but not act like he’s not given him anything, because you just make him look either stupid, assy, or like he’s not been listening.

Anyway – before I ranted, Jim had asked Oswald why’d he’d come at all. Oswald is exasperated, and tells Jim that Jerome scares the living hell out of him. Oh, Oswald. That response to the fear serum wasn’t a one-off, apparently.

Jim gives him a considering look. Oswald says he thought Jerome might get them power and money – a return to the good old days.

I really love the notion that Oswald is nostalgic and longs for tradition - because it’s so tricksy, and not quite how things were. I can see it on one hand – because he’s not really like the rest of the villains. His MO and needs are much more standard, and less obviously outre. On the other hand, Oswald is the upstart outsider who completely subverted the old order and caused chaos so he could take the crown. The likes of Sofia and Carmine just curled their lip at him, and saw him as a freak. So he’s in this odd situation of not wanting to be part of the new wave, but being rejected by the old order.

Jim, already turned on by this illicit meeting at work, decides that he wants to provoke Oswald, gives him one of his looks that wander well below the neck, and suggests that maybe he just doesn’t want the competition

Oswald scoffs at this. He says Jerome is simply chaos – an anarchist, whereas he is an honest criminal.

OK – at this point Jim makes a series of weird faces which, frankly, baffled me. Mouth ulcer? Popcorn stuck in teeth? I have no idea what these were.

Jim asks where the gas could be. Exasperated, Oswald reiterates that Jerome only tells what he has to – and that all Oswald knows is he has to be stopped.

Jim and Oswald being Jim and Oswald, they’re standing very close. Jim raises his eyebrows at Oswald’s comment and looks down at him.

Harvey yells downstairs for Jim, at which interruption Jim’s lips thin in a momentary expression of annoyance (it’s in the gifs, I promise it’s not shipper glasses), and he and Oswald slide into a hilariously smooth and practised quick escape. Once Oswald is safely out the door, Jim walks back towards the stairs to meet Harvey – who tells him that Jerome has been spotted at Paisley Square.

At Paisley Square, we see a very small music festival in progress. The main act is being interrupted by Jerome, who has invaded the stage and his shaking his ass at the crowd. The singer tells him to get lost, and is bludgeoned with the mic stand for his troubles. We also see that Firefly is on stage.

Ladies and gentlemen. We are the Arkham Asylum lunatics – and we are here to blow some minds.

He tells them they’ll love this next one, and brings his hostages onto the stage: the mayor, commissioner, bishop and…. this lady, whoever she is.

He’s waiting for two more guests, though, so – in the meantime, he’ll explain the rules. Basically, they have dynamite strapped to their necks, and he has the trigger – so if he doesn’t get what he wants, headless people. Only one man get him what he wants

Gordon! Calling Captain James Gordon!

Oh tremendous – it’s the League of Shadows, which saves me a lot of typing. Some guys is mad at Tabitha’s arrogance and disrespect for throwing his brother out of the club. Tabitha says he a rude ass who won’t pay his tab. The faux girl-power stuff with the Sirens storyline is annoying, because Tabitha is arrogant, and disrespectful, and downright rude – we saw that when she threw Ivy out for no good reason. But because this story is mired in its own weird powerful women rhetoric, she can’t just be called out on it. Her behaviour has to be seen to be justified.

Barbara struts in and wants an apology. The man demands blood. Barbara summons her army, and the men are all taken out. They turn to Barbara afterwards and ask her about continuing Ra’s’ legacy, as opposed to petty shit like this. She apparently has more to learn. Barbara makes a destiny face. Tabitha channels the audience, for once, and rolls her eyes.

My wrists are really suffering today – so this is summarised. Jonathan and Victor invade Wayne Enterprises and demand that they make a huge amount of poison madness gas.

Back to the music festival. Jerome is dancing to the Batman theme. My love for 60s Batman knows no bounds, so this makes me happy

As I live and breathe, Jim Gordon is in the house.

Jim doesn’t want to talk until he knows the hostages are OK – but Jerome says he is the one making demands. Jim says this is an act of terror, which seems to offend Jerome. Jim moves a little closer, but Bridget sprays flames into the crowd.

(An aside. So – are the people in the crowd also the kind of people that allowed Bridget to be experimented on by Hugo? Ivy’s resentment towards the entire city is more understandable. She was repeatedly let down on a personal and impersonal level. She wants revenge on everybody – which is exacerbated by her immaturity. Even so, there’s a transformative element to what she wants to do – making them something better, in her eyes.

Bridget, on the other hand, is seemingly just happy to roast civilians alive if needs be. So – what’s stopped her just going on a killing spree before now? Does she need direction?)

Jerome lets Jim know that this is a dead man's trigger – if it falls out of his hand, then the collars still detonate. He comments again on the two empty chairs. Jim asks who they’re for.

You’re a detective. Do some detecting

Jim guesses Jeremiah – but can’t think of the second. Jerome asks about the other irksome do-gooder who's spoiled his fun – and answers for Jim: Bruce Wayne.

Jim says to take him instead, but Jerome doesn't want Jim. He wants his brother and the version of his brother he’d liked to have had, who – when he had the chance - didn’t abandon him to his violent uncle.

Jim tries to clear the crowd – but Jerome gets angry. Anger manifests, in this case, as making the commissioner’s head explode. He demands Jeremiah and Bruce again.

At Wayne Manor, Alfred sings happy birthday to Bruce as he presents him with a cake. Selina appears behind Bruce’s shoulder and blows out the candles – telling him his security sucks. A slightly put-out Alfred greets her with Miss Kyle, before putting out plates and leaving.

(An aside – Selina is virtually Bruce’s only friend – of his own age, anyway. She got shoved out a window on her way to let Alfred know he had been kidnapped. She nearly died. He… didn’t think to invite her? Stay classy, Alfred.)

Bruce thanks her for visiting on his birthday – But Selina denies knowing that’s what today is. He says it’s good to see her. She says that she knew his bratty stage was just an act, but Bruce says she’s more sure than he is.

Alfred announces visitors – Jim and Lucius letting them know about the Jerome situation. Lucius says he’s designed some radio wave jamming technology that would keep Bruce safe long enough for GCPD to ambush, but Alfred still isn’t happy, and nor is Selina, who is now perched on the table and still picking at the cake.

In the meantime, Jerome makes the bishop’s head explode.

Jim appeals to Bruce’s good nature by saying they can prevent deaths

Bruce agrees and asks what they’re waiting for – people need their help.

Ra’s house. There’s a secret door with no key – but, luckily, Barbara can open it with her magic hand. Just take a moment to ponder exactly how stupid the thing I just typed sounds.

She enters a room full of random pieces of art and culture. Walking reverently through, she catches sight of a very bad painting, and stops short.

Good lord – wtf is that? From what one of the assassin sisters said, it should be– what, 17th century? It doesn’t look it, though.

Barbara is all awe-struck – saying that she’s always knows she was meant for more. Sure, Barbara. Whatever.

I’m home

Back with Jerome and co, we see snipers on the roof – who are being coordinated by Harvey.

Back to Jim – he’s trying to convince Jeremiah, who is pouring himself a stiff drink, and telling Jim he’s mad to consider this plan at all. Jim gets nowhere trying to persuade him.

Bruce introduces himself with a handshake. Jim and Lucius watch him – guessing he might have better luck than them.

Bruce says he wishes the circumstances were better, and asks what Jeremiah is working on – listening with genuine interest. He says that Jeremiah has a brilliant mind, and hopes that he can carry on after his brother is gone free from fear.

Jeremiah watches him as he speaks. He doesn’t seems suspicious, or dismissive – just intent.

Bruce says he trusts Jim and Lucius. And even if things don’t go to plan – they will show the city that standing up to terror is the only way to take its power away.

Jeremiah considers this

Well said

Jim’s phone rings. It’s Harvey – letting him know about the lab break-in. Jim tells him what ‘Penguin’ said about the gas. Yeah yeah, Jim. We all know you use that name for show.

They all leave to head to Paisley Square

There’s a very unnecessary scene where Harvey gets to the lab and learns that they made loads of gas which was then taken away again.

Jerome is singing on the stage when Jim and co. arrive. Jerome invites them to take their seats. Bruce strides up to the stage, face defiant. A nervous Jeremiah follows. Lucius says the device has been activated. Lucius is wearing a purple shirt and paisley tie, which is a fairly consistent style choice for him.

When they get to the stage, Harvey tells the snipers to fire – but the snipers are shot by Arkham patients. Jerome guessed they’d do this – and set his own men up in position last night. They’ve been watching the police all day. In short, they’re fucked.

A genuinely beautiful shot of a glass aircraft hangar – with clear blue skies outside – with the remainder of the villains walking through it.

Jonathan gasses one of the pilots there. Oswald looks nervy. Jervis asks the remaining pilot if it can be piloted alone and hypnotises him.

Oswald’s brain is whirring, and he exclaims aloud when he realises the plan – draw a crowd to the square to drop the gas and infect as many as possible. He can’t contain his genuine feelings about it anymore, and says it’s madness.

Jonathan said he thought he'd appreciate the beauty of it – but that Jerome had already anticipated his betrayal.

You went to Gordon

Ooops. They all ship it.

He adds that Oswald is a Judas – before hitting him on the head. Jervis tells two random goons to tie him up and put him on the blimp - Jerome wants him to have a bird’s eye view

God – this storyline again. Ra’s cellar of random objet d’art. Tabitha says he was a cult leader with brainwashed assassins. Barbara’s gone all conspiracy theorist – poring over one text which outlines how Ra’s has influenced all world history. That’s one document, Barbara. This is not how we do historical analysis.

Now she’s going on about spells. Tabitha says that Barbara would have sold all this once upon a time, and asks her what about how she begged to be part of her and Selina’s team.

Barbara points to the portrait and says that portrait shows her and Ra’s 400 years ago, and that this is her. She’s found her true purpose.

Barbara tells her minions to escort Miss Galavan to the street – and, plumbing hitherto unknown depths of unlikeableness, tell her that she’ll have her loyal servants teach her manners – she wouldn’t dirty her fingers with the task now.

Back to the festival. Jerome is monologuing.

Everyone's got their favourites – the one who cleans their room and does their homework. Mr Perfect – this guy

Jeremiah was adopted by rich folks, while Jerome was dragged up by a depressed alcoholic mother and had to clean up elephant dung.

He faces Jeremiah

But I know something mommy and daddy never knew. You're as crazy as I am

Jeremiah grimaces and struggles.

It’s in the DNA. You see, we’ve got the same blood - we are practically identical. You are a killer. It's your nature. Don't try and fight it.

He gives him the knife.

Take your best shot

Jerome stands back. Jeremiah roars and launches at him. Jerome easily disarms him, laughs, and punches him.

Jim and Harvey have a quick phone conversation about the chemicals headed their way. Jim tells him to evacuate the site, and says he’s going to kill that maniac once and for all.

Back on stage, Jerome is still beating Jeremiah, while telling him he loves him. Suddenly, the tables turn – and GCPD cops are shooting the Arkham patients stationed on the roofs. Jim, meantime, shoots Jerome. Bridget aims her flamethrower at him, but Jim manages to get away. Jerome – on his back on the stage – shuffles away.

As he does, Bruce and Bridget brawl. Jerome tries to hit the switch – only to realise that it’s not working.

From the crowd, we hear a voice

Hey – look up at the sky!

The blimp is now overhead.

Oswald wakes up, tied to something on the blimp, and is instantly wide-eyed with terror

Holy crap!

He frees himself and tries to get the pilot’s attention politely – but realises he’s been hypnotised. The captain goes on to say he’s going to dump the chemicals.

Oswald, bless him, decides that the way to go is to yell bossily, because that’s what he does

You turn this thing around right now!

The captain turns and aims a gun at him. Oswald raises his hands and backs off.

Chaos below. Jerome runs up an alley, and Jim follows. On a rooftop, Harvey looks up and sees the blimp. He calls Jim and suggests shooting it down – but, as Jim points out, that’s incredibly dumb, because it’s carrying all the chemicals.

As Jim chases Jerome upstairs, he gets a call from Oswald. He tells him he was knocked out, and then panics down the phone – telling Jim that he has to help him, the blimp has that horrible poison gas on board, and the pilot has been hypnotised.

Jim says that Oswald is going to help him – and tells him to steer the blimp away. Oswald splutters. He can’t steer a blimp – he doesn't even drive his own car. Thousands could die. Jim tells him there’s something worse. Oswald asks what’s worse than that. Jim tells him he can't run an empire in city full of lunatics. Again – that writing is weird, because it makes Jim come off as more morally bankrupt than Oswald. Or maybe it isn’t weird.

(An aside. Ahhh. In times of true need – as with the fear serum – Jim is Oswald’s first port of call)

On the rooftop, Jerome on the ledge. The pilot calls to say he’s in position, but before Jerome can reply, Jim shoots the phone from his hand.

Jerome says it’s too late anyway – and laughs, calling out bombs away!

Jim shoots him in the gut. Jerome is momentarily shocked, then laughs, falling backwards.

Meanwhile, on the blimp, the pilot starts to pull the lever. Oswald lurches forward, yelling no, and struggles. He overcomes him by smacking him in the face, and takes the wheel, chanting up up up. As he manages to get it to do what he wants, he laughs nervously

Ok ok ok…river, river – where is the river?

Oh, Oswald. I do actually properly love you.

Jim looks over ledge at Jerome dangling from a pole. Jerome comments that it’s quite the dilemma. Let him die – or pull him up and arrest him. What’ll it be? He extends a hand and asks Jim if he’s a lawman or a murderer.

Jim thinks for a moment before reaching down towards him – but Jerome withdraws his hand.

Good old Gordon, always playing by the rules - that's why I’ll outlive you and always be loved. I don’t play by rules.

Jim comments that it’s a long way down. Jerome responds that he’ll live on because he’s an idea. A philosophy. He’ll live on in the shadows of Gotham’s discontent.

He tells Jim he’ll be seeing him soon and, with an au revoir, lets go of the pole, laughing hysterically as he drops towards the ground.

Jim watches, wide-eyed, genuinely shocked.

On the street below, Jerome’s body – looking oddly unharmed – lies on a crumpled car roof, eyes open – still smiling. The crowd surge round him, before the police usher them back.

Jim stares. A tearful Jeremiah hovers close for a moment, and then makes to walk past. Bruce stops him, and says he meant what he said about work – he wants to fund him with a grant. Bruce also looks tearful. Jeremiah walks away, still limping as a result of the beating he took on stage. Bruce acknowledges Jim before walking away.

Jim's phone rings. It’s Oswald

Um – hello. I’m still here. Will someone get me the hell off this thing?

Jim says they’re on it, and asks Harvey how they get a blimp down safely.

Harvey says let him stew. You know, Harvey, any residual shame you feel about being on Oswald’s payroll during the Pax is all on you – so anytime you want to stop being a prick where Oswald is concerned is good.

Jim says they’ll get the standby pilot and he will advise him, adding that he should sit tight. He takes a moment and adds a well-deserved and just ever-so-slightly fond, with the use of his full name.

And Oswald Cobblepot? Gotham thanks you.

Oswald stares incredulously at the phone and yells Jim’s name as the blimp drifts off. Someone is getting a spanking when Oswald lands. I suspect he’s into it.

Tabitha is thrown out. Barbara’s plan doesn't involve her. Honestly, Tabitha, I don’t like you – but I would leave the vortex of dumb that is that storyline while you have the chance.

One of the sisters tells her to leave the city and never come back. Tabitha tells her to kiss her ass

Which one of you bitches wants to go first?

Tabitha starts well, but is quickly overpowered and beaten. From a car a little way down the street, someone watches all this. It’s a pretty ugly scene, with four or five of them kicking Tabitha’s ribs as she lies on the ground.

The sisters walk away.

Next time, we kill you

They close the gates behind them.

Tabitha is lying in the street. The man from the car walks towards her and extends his hand

Let me help you

Tabitha takes it.

Who the hell are you guys?

They’ve apparently been watching her and Barbara Kean ‘the imposter’. Poor sods. They must be both bored and irritated.

They say that Ra’s is the true master. Tabitha points out his deadness, but they tell her death is an illusion, and inject her with some very green stuff that looks like Herbert West’s reagent. She’s dragged away, unconscious. The street is really pretty.

Back in Jeremiah’s drab home, where he pours himself a large whiskey. Jeremiah fairly knocks it back, doesn’t he? We saw him drinking the same way earlier, without a wince or a cough. It suggests that he’s maybe used to it.

Looking over at the table, he sees a present. He walks over and looks. It looks creepy, even with its little tag claiming it’s from Wayne Enterprises.

Now. Would you open that? I wouldn’t.

He opens it. It’s a toy – a jack-in-the-box that can only be described as ‘menacing’. And if opening the original parcel wasn’t dumb enough, he actually turns the handle.

Predictably – an evil looking clown springs out and sprays him with gas. Jerome’s voice plays from some recording. Jeremiah staggers round the room, his face twisting.

Hello brother. You didn't think get you’d get rid of me so easily. My days were always numbered – but you can continue on for me. Be my revenge. Don't fight it – it’s a special mixture I had Scarecrow mix especially for you, to finally set you free. It’s time to have some fun. Burn it down. Burn it all down.

General Observations

A strong episode - excepting the League of Shadows stuff, which I find ludicrous and dull.

A couple of interesting nods to the past in this episode.

There’s Jim and Oswald, of course. They never really stray too far away from each other – but the secretive meetings, and Oswald as informant hark back to the good old days of season one, as does them working together. When push comes to shove, they seek out that dynamic which must - by this point - be almost comforting.

There’s also the moment with Jim and Jerome on the roof – which calls back to the moment at the church, when Barbara attempted suicide by letting go of his hand. There’s a similar rhetoric, too, about being set free through insanity.

Fate or Choice?

There’s quite a lot here to do with free will and determinism, and fatalism. Was Barbara really fated to always end up here? Is Jeremiah bound to end up as murderous and insane as Jerome?

Gotham has played with the idea before. I’m not really fond of it, to be honest – and found it particularly annoying when creepy Elijah revealed the dark past of Oswald’s relatives. Of course background is important, but to reduce Oswald’s life to ‘well – of course, he wound up heading that way, because his grandfather was crazy’ completely cheapens his story.

It also raises the queasy notions like, well, do you even bother trying to rehabilitate those people? Maybe some people are just born bad, and can be written off?

Jeremiah was an example of that, to an extent. Even if you go with the idea that he maybe suspected something wasn’t quite right somewhere, in terms of his mental health, it doesn’t seem as though he had acted on it. He was controlled and secluded, and had found an outlet for his energies in his work. If he was aware of certain impulses and compulsion, then he apparently hadn’t acted on them. He made a choice, in so far as he was able (which is, of course, not to say that this is feasible/realistic/appropriate in a wider and more serious discussion of mental illness – I’m talking about it purely as it’s presented within this narrative).

But Jerome’s final actions removed that choice from him, and framed it as ‘setting him free’. So freedom is giving in? Jeremiah to his (apparently) familial madness? Barbara to following a path set out for her? Bridget can remember being Bridget, but she’s given up on her in favour of living out Strange’s vision of her?

Jim

Jim more or less continues on the path set out last episode, of trying to more solidly be a ‘good guy’. He offers himself up in Bruce’s place, and tries to rescue and arrest Jerome. His interactions with Oswald are occasionally assy (if you watch it with shipper glasses on, Jim seems to enjoy riling Oswald up into a hissy fit) – but his thanks at the end are sincere, I think. He could have said something mean-spirited – but acknowledges instead that Oswald saved the city, and ‘Oswald Cobblepots’ him in the same way that Oswald likes to ‘Jim Gordon’ him.

His interactions with Harvey seemed to be business as normal – Harvey’s slid back to his comedic, mostly ineffectual, ways. This return to old days makes me wonder if the ‘betrayal’ we read about elsewhere might come from this quarter, after we’ve been lulled into a false sense of security.

His bond with Bruce in terms of ‘helping people’ was reaffirmed here, and deliberately made distinct from Bruce’s ties with Alfred.

Oswald

I wrote earlier that Oswald occupies an odd bridge between the old and the new. The old order didn’t want him, but he can’t find a common ground with the new order: their motivations baffle him. When pushed, he prefers order – and if that order happens to be lawful, he’ll take it, temporarily, anyway.

Here – Oswald falls back on what’s instinctive to him which, despite everything, is to seek out Jim. There’s a double aspect to how he goes to Jim here. It makes logical sense, because Jim wants to stop Jerome too, but there’s also an emotional element to it: he’s scared, and he trusts Jim to help him.

Bruce and Jeremiah

I think Bruce and Jeremiah’s relationship - which we know will become hugely important - was really well set up. Although Jerome would frequently puncture the moment with humour, he had poignant moments throughout. Part of him did love his brother. In many ways, they are alike. His brother did abandon him. His childhood was terrible. He willingly lets himself fall at the end.

By the end of this episode – before the gas – we see Jeremiah also deeply unhappy. His home looks dark and enclosed. He’s drinking heavily. He’s traumatised by encountering his brother again. He’s tearful when he sees his body. The one glimmer of light in his life was Bruce’s offer of work, in much the same way that Bruce’s refusal to leave Jerome to be beaten was the lone example of decent behaviour he’d seen in a long time. And now that’s all ruined, and the relationship - which could have been good for them both - poisoned from the outset.

I’m not commenting on Barbara’s storyline. It’s silly.

Things that remain open. Sofia is still in a coma – what happens when she comes round? Does Victor know yet that Oswald didn’t kill Carmine? Will Martin put his stabbing skills to use?

Thoughts?

#gotham commentary #gotham s4e18 #that's entertainment

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lordeemailarchive · 7 years

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OH HELLO.

(19/06/2017)

It's me, Ella. Sorry to keep blasting up your inbox but before you know it it'll be another four years' radio silence and you'll think "why oh why didn't I savour every morsel of those random emails?!" I'm shooting a music video somewhere totally magical. Never done a music video like this and I can't wait for you to see it. There's running involved. So it's been something of a big week.. we're in our third country in 4 days, Leg 1 of the tour went onsale, Leg 2 presale not far behind... oh, and Melodrama came out. I want to thank you for the outpouring of love this record has already seen. It's been a surreal, incredible week watching the reviews pour in, reading all of your tweets claiming favourite songs and favourite lines, and just generally being so grateful that the world has been kind to my baby. It's so wild making an album for two years in a totally isolated environment and then just letting it out, but the fact that you GET IT makes it all a little less freaky for me. So thankyou. The thing I really wanted to do with this album cycle is continue the story of the record long after release week - there's SO much stuff still to come. Gorgeous reinterpretations of the music, crazy visuals, performance art, merch... I can't wait to share it all with you. If you got a ticket to Leg 1, YAY. Can't wait to see you. And in the meantime, NORTH AMERICAN PRESALE CODE IS: WASTERS Go go go. With all my love and thanks, Ella x

NORTH AMERICA DANCE w/ special guest TBA Mar 1 - Milwaukee, WI @ BMO Harris Bradley Center - (Tickets) Mar 2 - St. Louis, MO @ Chaifetz Arena - (Tickets) Mar 3 - Kansas City, MO @ Sprint Center - (Tickets) Mar 5 - Denver, CO @ Pepsi Center - (Tickets) Mar 8 - Vancouver, BC @ Rogers Arena - (Tickets) Mar 10 - Portland, OR @ Moda Center at the Rose Garden - (Tickets) Mar 12 - Sacramento, CA @ Golden1 Center - (Tickets) Mar 13 - Oakland, CA @ The Oracle Arena - (Tickets) Mar 14 - Los Angeles, CA @ Staples Center - (Tickets) Mar 16 - Glendale, AZ @ Gila River Arena - (Tickets) Mar 18 - Dallas, TX @ American Airlines Center - (Tickets) Mar 19 - Houston, TX @ Toyota Center - (Tickets) Mar 21 - Tulsa, OK @ BOK Center - (Tickets) Mar 23 - St. Paul, MN @ Xcel Energy Center - (Tickets) Mar 24 - Lincoln, NE @ Pinnacle Arena - (Tickets) Mar 25 - Des Moines, IA @ Wells Fargo Arena - (Tickets) Mar 27 - Rosemont, IL @ Allstate Arena - (Tickets) Mar 28 - Detroit, MI @ Little Caesars Arena - (Tickets) Mar 29 - Toronto, ON @ Air Canada Centre - (Tickets) Mar 31 - Columbus, OH @ Schottenstein Center - (Tickets) Apr 2 - Philadelphia, PA @ Wells Fargo Center - (Tickets) Apr 3 - Boston, MA @ TD Garden - (Tickets) Apr 4 - Brooklyn, NY @ Barclays Center - (Tickets) Apr 6 - Newark, NJ @ Prudential Center - (Tickets) Apr 7 - Uncasville, CT @ Mohegan Sun Arena - (Tickets) Apr 8 - Washington, D.C. @ The Anthem - (Tickets) Apr 11 - Tampa, FL @ Amalie Arena - (Tickets) Apr 12 - Miami, FL @ American Airlines Arena - (Tickets) Apr 14 - Duluth, GA @ Infinite Energy Center - (Tickets) Apr 15 - Nashville, TN @ Bridgestone Arena - (Tickets)

EUROPE DANCE w/ KHALID 26 Sept - Manchester, UK @ O2 Apollo - (Tickets) 27 Sept - London, UK @ Alexandra Palace - (Tickets) 30 Sept - Brighton, UK @ Brighton Centre - (Tickets) 1 Oct - Birmingham, UK @ O2 Academy - (Tickets) 2 Oct - Glasgow, UK @ 02 Academy - (Tickets) 4 Oct - Tilburg, NL @ 013 - (Tickets) 5 Oct - Paris, FR @ Zenith - (Tickets) 6 Oct - Antwerp, BE @ Lotto Arena - (Tickets) 8 Oct - Lyon, FR @ Transbordeur - (Tickets) 9 Oct - Barcelona, ES @ Saint Jordi Club - (Tickets) 11 Oct - Munich, DE @ Zenith - (Tickets) 12 Oct - Milan, Italy @ Fabrique - (Tickets) 14 Oct - Cologne, DE @ Palladium - (Tickets) 15 Oct - Berlin, DE @ Tempodrome - (Tickets) 17 Oct - Stockholm, SE @ Annexet - (Tickets) 18 Oct - Oslo, NO @ Sentrum Scene - (Tickets) 19 Oct - Trondheim, NO @ UKA 17 Festival - (Tickets)

NEW ZEALAND AND AUSTRALIA DANCE 7 Nov - Dunedin, NZ @ Town Hall (Tickets) 8 Nov - Christchurch, NZ @ Isaac Theatre Royal (Tickets) 9 Nov - Christchurch, NZ @ Isaac Theatre Royal (Tickets) 11 Nov - Wellington, NZ @ Michael Fowler Centre (Tickets) 12 Nov - Auckland, NZ @ Power Station (All Ages) (Tickets) 14 Nov - Auckland, NZ @ Power Station (Tickets) 15 Nov - Auckland, NZ @ Power Station (Tickets) 18 Nov - Perth, AU @ Kings Park (Tickets) 21 Nov - Sydney, AU @ Sydney Opera House Forecourt (Tickets) 22 Nov - Sydney, AU @ Sydney Opera House Forecourt (Tickets) 23 Nov - Brisbane, AU @ Riverstage (Tickets) 25 Nov - Canberra, AU @ Spilt Milk Festival (Tickets) 26 Nov - Melbourne, AU @ Sidney Myer Music Bowl (Tickets)

(source: forwarded email by u/AitchyB, https://twitter.com/InfoLordeBR/status/876955778548207616/photo/1 , and https://twitter.com/elanafishman/status/877155129052594177)

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markdecastroweb · 3 years

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demosthenes46-blog · 6 years

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The boy who owned the world NOVEMBER 26, 2017 · FRIENDS The boy who owned a world By Josh Maynard Intro April 2020 People are dying. 2/3s of the worlds population has succumbed to an unknown virus. All humans above age 19 are dead. Corpses lie still in their cribs. Elderly lie eternally asleep in their beds. It all started 3 days ago, the flash. Children are waking up from their coma. Milk is sour. No power. Mommy and daddy smell bad. This is the new beginning. Adults have desecrated the Earth. So, the virus only attacked fully developed brains. Chapter 1 0810 Hours “Everything is fucked man, so fucked!” Eric mumbled as he pulled his red flyers wagon down the street. He stopped at a street light and out of habit looked both ways. Warily he crossed the street. Gunshots can be heard in the distance. the familiar pops that would resemble fireworks brought only death. “Damn kids” he spat in the direction on south Freetown. Eric would be turning 15 this year. Like it mattered, he thought. No more birthday candles. They were too valuable. After a few brisk minutes he reached a partially looted liquor store. He silently laughed at the broken registers and lotto machines. Damn kids. Curiously he made his way down the aisle pulling cans off the shelves. First aid and medical supplies went into the wagon as well. Candy bars, ramen noodles, and even pet food all came off the shelf. He suddenly stopped. He stopped right in front of the huge beer cooler. Shrugging a “what the hell” he grabbed a few cases. Eric managed to haul over 100lbs of supplies back to his house. His dads truck still in the garage. His moms eco friendly hatchback was still in the driveway. After putting his wagon away he grabbed his .22 rifle and his fathers .38 special tucking it in his waist band. After grabbing some pretzels and 12 pack he made his way to the front porch. While sitting in the rocking chair he began to whistle one of his fathers favorite bands songs. Eric solemnly took out a pack of malboros and lit one. While exhaling a large cloud of smoke he screamed “FUCK THIS” taking a final swig of his beer, he threw the bottle into the street. Not shedding a single tear. 3 hours later Eric awoke to the sound of screaming. No, laughter? He lazily opened his eyes to see a few kids playing soccer in the middle of the street. A few boys and girls his age while toddlers watched from the curb. The twins were team captains. Obviously, Eric snorted. Grabbing another cigarette he made his way to the street. The automatic gates didn’t work so he used a manual gate next to his mother’s rose bushes. Earlier he had wrapped all of his bike chains around the gate to further secure it. If he at 10 years old knew how to pick a lock then he could count on other degenerates knew too. After undoing all the chains several kids noticed Eric. “Eric! Finally the master of disaster wakes up!” one of the twins piped up. It was Harry, the boy, all long flowing locks of fiery red hair. “What’s up fire crotch?!” Eric replied. Soon all the little ones crowded Eric squealing and hugging his legs. “We rescued a lot of kids today” Sara mentioned as he made her way through the small crowd. “While you were shut in your castle”. Sarah gave him a peck on his cheek. “We thought…..” her gaze fell low “We thought you were fish food man!” Harry exclaimed “But look at you! Smoking AND drinking. Wow. Hey wheres all the warm beer?” Eric put his thumb behind him “I put it in the pool”. At the mention of a pool the kids all stopped playing with the ball. “Well fuck this! Me first!” Harry yelled pushing past all the little ones “Take him hostage sis, hes all yours!” he screamed just as an army of children began to run behind him. Eric smiled, my little army, he thought. “So hot shot, what’s the plan?” he turned to see Sarah in white shorts and a yellow blouse. The wind was whipping her hair across her shouders. She and her twin brother were 16. Sarah and Eric swapped their V-cards together just that summer. “Well Darling” he said between puffs “I guess we take over the world” laughing he locked the gate and slid his arm around her waist. Together they made their way to the pool. “Don’t drink it all asshole!” Eric yelled as Harry grabbed his another beer. “Relax bro, ill go get you a whole store!” Harry replied. They both fell back in their lawn chairs laughing. “Is this the life or what?” Harry asked “Despite the fact I forgot we have no parents, its been alright” Harry whistled a somber tune. “Yeah, our dad was an ass so we put him in the county dump” Harry replied gleaming “ Fuck-em” he whispered as he took another swig. “So captain whats the plan? I mean, how do we live? Obviously we cant take care of all these little bastards” Harry mentioned while he waved his hand at the pool. The pool was filled with more then 50 screaming and laughing kids. They all had forgotten for the time being that they had awoken to dead parents days before. Eric smiled at Harry “I guess we can drop them off in the woods somewhere—OWWW” “Sarah punched Eric in the shoulder “Well? Do you have any ideas princess?” Eric said turning towards her. She was rubbing her temples while in deep thought. “We need them…” she finally said “We need an army” Harry began to laugh but quickly fell silently, no one else thought it was funny. “Your serious?” said Eric, she turned to him “ Its time babe. We’re taking over”. Eric lifted his beer and chugged the rest in one gulp, “Si vis pacem para bellum” he whispered. Chapter 2 A few months later Cars had now been parked to block the ends of the street. After Eric dispatched Harry to the local hardware store to get generators. The wall was being built. Tony was named head engineer. Tony was 13 and still in love with legos so to Eric it was a no brainer to charge him with building a wall. He now supervised 8-15 year olds as they cut and nailed new sections. Eric drove by in his Hummer. “Hey Tony the tiger, hows the progress?” he asked stepping out. Tony grimaced, “ Im not gunna lie Er, we are way behind. That last attack from the Baron’s set us back. We are now using fire retardant wood and aluminum roofing to cover the wood. At least the gate anyway. The vulneralbities are the alley’s and the sewers”. Eric was writing in his notebook. “ Anything else to report?” Tony looked sideways “Well, one of the new recruits is causing some trouble” At this Eric looked up “Trouble?” Tony sighed “She causing some dissention with the younger ones, he goes by Striker” Eric spat at the ground “Son of a bitch” he pulled out his radio “Base 1, this is golden eye over” his radio crackled “Golden eye we read you, what’s your 20? Over”. The kids had raided a police station armory and found radios with code books. “Find out who is in charge of our new guppies (recruits) and bring them all to the hall of justice, over.” Eric said “Roger wilco sir, over and out”. Eric kicked a rock “To the torture chamber we go”. He climbed behind the wheel of the truck and sped off grinding his cig mouth. “Attention on deck!” Lt Gaby screamed. “ At ease” Eric barked. The whole room sat at Eric’s command. “ Lt, give me the list of guppies” Gaby promptly handed over a list of this week’s workers. Striker was last on the list. “Guppie Striker?” Instantly a frail blonde girl stood. She was about his height with green eyes and a very extenuating bust. Shit, Eric thought, he assumed it was a male. “Seize her” 4 guards responded and cuffed her. “Bring her here” Eric commanded, the guards led her without protest to the front of the hall and sat her in the Truth Chair. “Guppies DISSMISSED!” Eric bellowed, Lt Gaby began to bark orders and led them back to work detail. As the last recruit left Eric told the guards to wait outside. “Id rather blow you then get raped” Striker spat in rebellion as he walked behind her. “Who do work for?” Eric simply asked ignoring her provoke, “What?” Eric slapped her hard “Argh, I don’t WORK for anyone you jackass!” Striker screamed. “Why all the bullshit on the wall then!? Your speech is a cancer” Eric retorted as he began to lose his cool. He stayed behind her “I was only talking shit!” She screamed, she smelled good Eric thought as he leaned into her ear “Liar liar pants on ….” He then proceeded to lift a can and pour precious gasoline all over her body “….Fire”. Pity, she smelled so nice. She was screaming and thrashing but chains held her down. He circled her and took out a cigarette, light it and inhaled. “Look ill do whatever you want ok? Ill do whatever you want, please!” she was crying hard now, it gave Eric a thrill to hear her beg. “Tell me, who…..do….you….work….for” He breathed out his smoke so thick she began to cough “Fine FUCK, FINE! Fuck! Ill tell you! But I cant go back there! Please! They will kill me!” She screamed as Eric lit another match. “Who will?” Eric whispered as he slowly circled her. “The fucking jackets!” this puzzled Eric. The Yellow Jacket football team, he thought. Shit. “Guards!” Eric sat down, hands in his lap patiently studying Strikers face. She looked like an animal caught in a trap. The gas worked every time. If she only knew it was a cup of gas poured in a gallon of water for the smell. He smiled as moments later the Hall’s door was filled with guards. “Put her in solitary” He nodded to Striker “Brig, bread and water 3 days. That’s it.” Just as he finished his command Sarah burst through the front double doors with her honor guard trialing her. Oh shit, thought Eric. Sarah walked right up to Striker and punched her in the throat. Striker, still tied in the chair, fell gasping for breath still attached to the Truth chair. “Why wasn’t I notified immediately? Shes a fucking spy?!” Eric looked like he was actually 15. He then looked her straight in the eye and told her the truth “I didn’t want to risk it over the radios” Sarah kicked Striker in the stomach “And that’s for soliciting yourself on my man bitch!”. Between gasps Striker managed a weak “Fuck you..” Sara scoffed and began to try and stomp her face but Eric quickly intervened. “Stop Sara!” She looked back at him incredulously “We need her!” He urgently whispered. “Shes from a new gang, that football team from Glenbard High? Yellow Jackets apparently. That school is a fortress! Fuck a wall. That place could be our capital! We are close to 800 strong and climbing everyday….we need to expand” Eric then lightly kicked the now unconscious girl on the ground. “Shes our golden goose” It took Sara a few seconds to contemplate this and then suddenly jumped on Eric “ Oh Darling this is why I love you!” She blurted in between kisses. “Ahem” a cloaked figure appeared in the Hall’s doorway. “Come now children, daddy’s home!” a familiar Harry swept off his cloak in a kingly manner. “Scary Harry! My man, how goes it?” Harry lit a cigar and dragged a huge toke. “Well, the campaign is going well, we brought an additional 76 guppies in. But even better are our raids. I put the preliminaries on your desk Governor, ill tell you this, we hit em hard” Sarah released her grip on Eric “How hard?” She breathed slowly. Harry took his time “Uhhh…about 10,000 gallons of fuel” Eric’s cigarette fell from his mouth. Sarah ran to her brother and picked him up in a excited embrace. “You little devil you! How!? A transport?” she set him down “Of course my horse! We were raiding the airport when our scouts spotted a few Baron’s guarding a jet and a truck. Our snipers took out the gurads and when we searched the plane. Nothing but this white powerdy stuff. Looks like coke?” “Celebration?” Harry asked his lifetime best friend. “Its time to kill the fatted calf” Eric said with a smile. It was going to be a very good day after all. “Governor! Eric wake up!” Eric opened one eye, it was Lt. Gaby. “Yeah yeah im awake, whats the matter?” Gaby gave him a report “Is this true?” Gaby nodded “Ever since Sparrow (Stanley) put out that radio signal our radar is picking up thousands of kids and vehicles alike”. Shit, he thought, too soon. “Get me my gun and hail Cmdr Sarah and Cmdr Harry NOW!” Gaby quickly saluted and ran barking orders. Within minutes Sarah and Harry had Alpha Teams swarming the banisters. “I want snipers on every fucking roof damn it!” Eric yelled into his throat mike “And someone bring me some coffee!” Eric reached in his pocket and sniffed some sugar, he was floored. “Gaby, get processing teams down there now!” Eric knew first hand what could happen if close to 2,000 kids got riot worthy. Processing teams pushed through the huge make shift camp. Gaby got a p.a. “Males on the left side of the street and females on the right” Medical teams were then dispatched to triage the new kids. “We cant let them all in Eric, there’s not enough supplies” Harry said as he looked at the huge crowd. Reports were coming in that thousands were being added. “Then we build more walls. Send out more raid parties.” Harry looked away in anger “You have no idea what its like out there do you Er? How many good guys and girls ive lost trying to feed these outsiders” He spat as he waved his hand over new guppie crowd. “You and Sarah are living in this fantasy….you CANT save the world.” Eric knew Harry was right. They couldn’t keep on taking in every new guppie that they found. They were already at max capacity. They needed to expand. And he knew just the place to annex. Now was his chance. “Sarah, call the council together and Gaby?” “Yes, capt?” “Make sure these migrants have bread and water. Keep em happy” Gaby then replied a few seconds later “ Uh sir, theres a leader here who calls himself Josiah, he would like a word” Sarah looked at him with conern but Harry volunteered “Ill go baby sit the prophet” Harry said laughing as he climbed down the banister. “He’s a tough SOB that one!” Eric said as he watched Harry entreat this leader to succumb to his world. They both entered the gates minutes later arm over each others shoulder. He was a red head. Damn irish, Eric thought as he chuckled. “Well, you have your army Darling, whats next?” Eric pulled another cigarette from his almost empty pack. “We are gunna take that fucking school” Chapter 3 “8 days later” *Eric and Harry are on a hill ½ mile from Redwood High. Eric has a spotters scope & Harry is staring down a Barret .50. Both are dressed in camo. Its been two says since last relocation. Eric cant stop smoking. He worried about his young sniper team. Most of his team consisted of teenagers trained on video games of violence and gore. Bravo and Alpha teams consisting of 5 guppies contained a comms, medic, assault, and sniper team were stationed in the North and Charlie and Delta were moving in from the East & West. An entire storm trooper army was stationed just outside the Yellow Jackers radar about 2 clicks south, about 2k strong in the FOB* “There he is…” Eric, alert and hyperviligant, whispered. “The queen bee himself, range?” Harry asked “400 yards” Eric whispered. “Fuck man I cant make that shot!” Harry said setting down his rifle. “This is way different then COD bro, we got wind and drop to factor in” Eric whipped out a compass and wind navigator and ran the numbers. “Shoot 8 inches to the left and 5 inches above your target” Eric said to Harry. “Seriously?” Harry spat incredoulous. “Dead serious, simple calculus my friend, x is always moving” Whispered Eric. He watched through his spotters lens as the Queen Bee drank some hot liquid on the roof. “All units prepare for execute, on my mark, fire fire fire……” Erics words were muffled by thunderous crack of lightning. “WEAPONS FREE!” Eric yelled into his throat mike. Infantry units on dirt bikes, ATV’s, and trucks with .50 came barreling from all units and entire buses full of grunts began to appear on the horizon. The siege lasted 45 min. Multiple units began to engage the Yellow Jackets on the 1-4 floors of the school. Tear gas and smoke filled the courtyards. The ill prepared YJ did not stand a chance against riot gear and gas. Many young militants fell in the first few minutes. Medics were dispatched to patch up the wounded. Enemies were captured and rounded up in a make shift camp. After the intial stages of the invasion, the battle was over. A white flag was shown from the Gym of the school which served as HQ. The Gym was full to the brim with over 1,500 kids. “Cease fire!” Harry commanded over his mike. “Infantry, secure the perimeter, Flood the tunnels and seal the gates. No one in or out. Process all citizens of the YJ colony and get medical teams to triage the survivors.” Eric barked into his mike. “Sniper teams, your on overwatch duty, if you see a weapon in the hands of the enemy, terminate them” CRACK Harry slumped over. His face hit the cold ground with a sickening thud. Everything happened in slow motion. Eric’s initial assement assumed his wound was fatal. Crawling over, he deduced that the round had grazed his ear and rendered him unconscious. “FUCK EVAC ON MY POSITION NOW! I need artillery on that roof now! Mobile units, put suppressive fire on those banisters! SOMEBODY PUT A FUCKING BIRD IN THE SKY!”

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blkpnkwriting · 7 years

Text

bad for you

part i. / part ii. / part iii.

bad!girl Rosé x Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use, mentions of violence, blood, and injury

Word count: 5,499

“Fuuuck.”

Light slatted through the blinds of your bedroom. You think it’s your bedroom.

Cracking your eyes, you groaned again, the feeble morning light still too strong for your sensitive eyes. Yup, it was your bedroom. Which was strange because you couldn’t remember how you got there. Why did you feel so gross?

Rolling in your sheets, you blinked at the Tylenol sat on your nightstand beside a bottled water. For a moment, you couldn’t understand how it got there. Then it slowly dawned on you.

Rosé.

You sat up quickly, flinching at the onslaught of pain in your head. But you wanted to know if she was still there, in your apartment. With you. A scan around the room proved she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You popped a couple Tylenol and chugged some water before getting up and heading into your small living room.

Where she couldn’t be found.

That's okay, you reasoned. It was probably for the best anyway. Last night was a mess and it was guaranteed that you made a fool of yourself. Now you’d never be able to see her again, not after that. They probably noted that you didn’t quite fit in with their people, couldn’t handle your liquor like they could, just generally wasn’t what they expected. At least, that’s what you thought about it. Well, it was fun while it lasted. Now you had to pick up the pieces of your heart you felt chipping away at the thought of not seeing her again.

What a horrible first... and last date.

You sunk into your couch cushions, sighing with relief at knowing you had the day off and could recuperate from your hangover in peace. Sipping your water, you turned on the TV for something to occupy your mind, distract you from your embarrassment, and surfed the channels before that too bored you.

A chime from your bedroom resulted in yet another groan. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you stood up, skulking into the room and grabbing the damned device.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘

It felt like you were going to fall down. It was as though your hangover dissipated... it hadn’t, but you were so ecstatic that you could forget about it. A smile spread across your cheeks, and you opened your phone to the text message.

There was already several messages waiting for you, and you swore under your breath when you realized just how late in the day you slept in. No wonder she tried multiple times to get a hold of you.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 ur key is hidden behind ur apartment plate btw sleep well!!!

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 i dont wanna be THAT girl but can u text me when u wake up???

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 ok but seriously r u alive

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 i know where u live & if u dont text me back soon im coming over

That was the most recent message, and as much as you wanted her to come back, to apologize for everything last, and to maybe play up the hangover so she could cuddle you, you didn’t want to trouble her.

You Yeah yeah I’m awake but definitely not kicking

You sat back down on your couch with much more enthusiasm than you had just a couple minutes ago. Legs balled up under you, you waited for the next message. It came quickly.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 u shouldnt try to drink as much as me next time 😉

You Nice contact name btw, really captures your character

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 actually i put my number in & u told me it was boring so i had to put some emojis on

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 u legit forced me

You I regret nothing

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 thats surprising

Oh god, she was mentioning last night. You picked at the collar of your shirt --- which you don’t remember changing into --- and hid your sheepish smile as you continued typing.

You Yeah... about that

You I’m sorry about... anything that I did, really. I was really drunk

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 dont be!!! you were hilarious actually & i had a great time

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 especially when u put ur hands down my skirt 😉

You stared down at the words on your screen and felt the color drain from your face. You did what? Now that you thought about it, you remembered the stumbling idiot you were as she dragged you out the back of the bar, how she piled you onto her motorcycle, and how even though you leaned against her back with all your weight, she still wanted to you hold onto her.

And yes, you did put your hands down her skirt. She grabbed your arms to make sure you would hold on and you took the initiative to warm your hands in the space beneath the waistband of her skirt and whatever shorts she had underneath.

This time, you did smack your forehead for real, and then regretted the action as it sent a agonizing pulse through your skull. The hangover was still there alright.

You Wow. I went right for the money, didn’t I? 🙈

You And after how you nice you’ve been. I didn’t properly thank you for the drinks last night. I mean... you did pay for them, right???

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 lisa paid for them lol were friends with the owner & jennie was pissed that she blew like 200 last night on free shit

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 besides that dont mention it 😘

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 thank u for letting me treat u right

The text had you halting again. It was such a strange thing to say. Again, you thought about how she reacted to your compliments and how she seemed to brush them off, like she didn’t know how to respond at all. Like no one told her how beautiful she was enough. Now this? She was thanking you for letting her be nice to you.

It made you sad all over again. There was something you didn’t know about Rosé and it was important. But you had gotten this far, and you knew one thing for certain.

You were hooked and there was no going back.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 ur different

You didn’t have much of a chance to respond, but there she was already texting again.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 i sound totally weird saying this but ur different & i like that

rosè 😈 🚬 😘 ur not like anyone ive met before

There wasn’t a whole lot you could respond with, and if you could, you would just send her the blush you felt spreading up your neck and across your cheeks. So she did like you. The same way you like her. It wasn’t all in your head, a game some pretty and free-spirited girl was trying to play on you.

You I could say the same for you, Rosé

Rosé never responded after her last series of messages.

It worried you at first, but you rationalized that she had other things to do with her life, and as much as you wanted to spend all your time with her, she couldn’t do the same. In fact, you didn’t know what she did with her spare time. You knew she loved her motorcycle, and probably ripped around on it a lot, but she had to have some way to pay for the gas and upkeep. Not to mention her rough group of friends to keep in control. It was like she was their logic or something. That, or she didn’t quite fit in. Which you didn’t mind, because it meant you didn’t have to worry about her getting arrested or getting in a bar brawl.

You spoke too soon, however.

Another boring day sat behind the register with only a small fan to keep company turned south when Lisa entered. Apparently, she didn’t have a motorcycle of her own or else you would have at least expected one of them to come waltzing in after the rambunctious noise.

At first, you were excited to see her. But then your smile faltered, and any joke you had prepared on the tip of your tongue was quickly dissolved.

A nasty cut split her lip just above her labret piercing and gone was her usual hyper demeanor. She did grace you with a small smile at least as she stepped up to the counter, but then she was leaning on the glass display, holding her face in her hands with a low, drawn-out groan of discontentment.

“Lisa, are you okay?” you asked, concern lining your voice. She lifted her head and you could properly see her lip. It was totally busted, but didn’t look too bad on her as far as attraction went. Sort of fit the rogue role you pinned her with. Probably still hurt like a bitch, though.

“Could be worse,” she muttered. A finger with chipped pink nail polish traced a lotto ticket underneath. “Could be better. A fight broke out at the bar a couple nights ago. Pretty dicey shit.”

“What happened?” you pressed. You didn’t want to outright ask about Rosé, but that was really what you were trying to get at. It could have something to do with the reason why she hadn’t texted you back. Which you seriously hoped wasn’t true.

“Gang rivalries,” she digressed, leaning on one elbow to scan the mostly empty store before facing you again, as if it wasn’t supposed to be talked about in public. “It’s usually okay when they’re in the bar at the same time, but there were a few too many drinks that night and shit was said, blah blah blah. It got out of hand fast, and some dude wanted to grab one of my bottles to make a fuckin’ shank --- like he was still in prison or somethin’. I wouldn’t have it, he got mad at me, started grabbing at me, actually ripped my favorite shirt --- asshole. But... uhm. Rosé stood up to him...”

Dread filled your stomach. It had to be written all over your face because Lisa reached out and took your hand, in a way that was much less flirtatious than in the past.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s okay. Just banged up a little, but Jisoo has been taking care of her. Trust Jisoo, she’s a good one, a close friend of ours. Doesn’t involve herself with all that shit, just so happens to hang around Jennie a lot. A lot.” There was a flash of the old Lisa you had seen at the bar in the way she winked at the innuendo, and even though you didn’t know either of the girls she spoke about, you still giggled at the gossip.

“I’m just picking up some cigarettes for Rosie,” Lisa said, back to business. She let go of your hand, which was nice. You didn’t want to have to reject her again. Instead, she twisted her piercing a little as habit, then flinched at the pain, as it appeared to be swollen since she got hit in the mouth. “She didn’t want me to come here and bother you about it, but I thought you should know anyway.”

“Thank you, Lisa. Seriously,” you replied, nodding your earnesty. You knew where to look now to grab her Luckies from the compartments, but you stilled before handing them over. A market sat to the side, and you took it without questioning it. On the back of one of the packs, you stole a second to write a quick message.

Get better soon... I miss you.

You tried to slide them across the counter for Lisa to have on the house just like she had done for you, but she refused. Unfurling your fingers, she forced a couple bills into your hand and then snatched the cigarettes before you could do anything else, jumping away with a cackle. She blew a kiss at you and you rolled your eyes, then she was out the door. It didn’t seem like there was much that could destroy that girl’s spirit completely.

There was no way you were going to be able to stop thinking about Rosé, though. Somewhere. Hurt. Laid up to rest. And then hopefully smiling when she finds your message on her cigarettes.

“Sir, I really can’t stay!”

Your boss actually stamped his foot like a toddler. And he was an older man, divorced and all.

“I have no one else willing to cover the shift, so you’re going to have to!” he insisted. He glanced at a small watch on his wrist like he was in a time crunch, and then waved at you. “It’s extra pay, you shouldn’t be complaining.”

“It’s a double shift,” you tried to explain. You were up bright and early and now you were tired, how hard was that to understand? “I have other plans. I actually have a life outside this job.”

“Well, if you want to keep this job, you’re going to stay,” he deadpanned. The argument was coming to a close and you were on the losing side. Fucking dickhead.

“Just put... that other guy on. It’s not like he does anything anyway, since all he does is sit on his phone here.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to do anything,” your boss spat, sliding his wallet into a pocket, preparing to leave. “You’re going to stay if you want your paycheck. Now, I have to go ---”

You wanted to scream at him. He had you pulling ridiculous hours ever since you started working here some odd months ago. You were the only capable employee of this shitty convenience store, and the owner was never even around to take care of it himself, case in point. Was it really even worth all this trouble? There was a time you would have taken the punishment without a fight. Before, there wasn’t even a life to speak of. This would have been your whole life. But you didn’t want that anymore, and truth be told, you didn’t want this job either.

“You know what?” you snapped, bringing back the owner’s attention. There was a displeased expression on his face, like he’d rather be anywhere else. That wasn’t going to happen. “I fucking quit. You can take your stupid, ugly ---” you yanked the polo over your head, leaving you in a thin camisole, and threw it at him. “Shove it up your ass! Maybe you’ll even fit it over that big head of yours that’s stuck up there too, and wear it!!”

The rush of adrenaline had you feeling all flighty, but the look on the guy’s face was everything to you and you certainly didn’t want to miss even a second of it. He remained there, frozen, mouth agape. You prided yourself in this feat and felt more coming to the surface.

“That’s enough,” a voice said in your ear. Fingers curled around the crook of your elbow, pulling you away.

You knew who it was before you even had to look.

Outside, you swore in an exhale, kicking the ground as you walked to the black motorcycle waiting for you both. There went your last paycheck, and now you were wondering how you were going to pay for rent. You were about to swing over the back of the motorcycle when Rosé stopped you again, turning you to face her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice and in the way she ducked her face in front of you to garner your attention. You were beyond relieved to see Rosé, even more so without a scratch from what you could see, but you were seething with frustration. Her hands ran up and down the sides of your arms in a soothing manner, her palms smooth. After a moment, she brought a hand to lift your chin up, meeting her eyes. “Hey, talk to me.”

“I’m fine, he didn’t do anything,” you muttered. The want to push her hand away from your face was present, but at the same time, you reveled in the fact she was showing so much affection. You really should be asking about how she felt after her fight, but she seemed far more focused on other things.

“Let’s get you out of here,” she said, reaching over to grab the spare helmet that was beginning to feel more and more like yours. “I know just the place, don’t worry. Just enjoy the ride, let it clear your head.”

You wordlessly took the helmet and clambered on behind her. Inside the store, you could see the owner arguing on his cellphone, arms gesturing around and in the air. It made you smile knowing you put him in a pinch just as willingly as he was going to throw you under the bus. Served him right. He looked up just as Rosé revved the bike, a vicious noise echoing in the lot, and you knew he could hear it. You waved, and he flipped you off, but you were already peeling off the cement.

The ride was a blur. You rested the side of your helmet against the back of Rosé’s jacket, listening to the way it chattered against the studs embroided on this particular garment she wore today. It felt way more natural than the first ride did, and you didn’t even mind the fact that your hands were laced around her middle, resting just below her navel, a throwback to that drunken night. Every once in awhile, her hand would drop and cup the outside of your knee, pressing you close like she was hugging you while she drove. You enjoyed the gesture, but did nothing to return it. You saw the scenery change without processing it. All you were thinking about, so grateful about, was that you were holding Rosé again. After what felt like weeks that were just days, you were so ready to see her again. It had been too long.

You blinked and you had no idea where you were. Rosé slowed your ride, weaving up a small unkempt track, dense woods surrounding you. It was only afternoon but it felt more like dusk here. A canopy stretched out overhead, casting shafts of sunlight sporadically upon the rocky road. Abruptly, Rosé swerved off to the side, rolling to a stop behind some brush.

“What are we doing here?” you asked after removing your helmet.

Rosé slid off her seat, helping you down, and then took off her headgear. She did the same routine of fixing her hair and adjusting the ripped shorts she wore today, then answered you. “I brought you to my favorite place.”

You glanced around at nowhere in particular. The woods?

The puzzlement was written all over your face, and Rosé giggled. It was adorable enough to bring a smile to your face for the first time since she showed up, and you continued to look at her timidly excited expression as she took your hand and began to lead you through the foliage. After a few steps, you realized there was the faintest of paths, probably worn by Rosé herself. She didn’t say anything else, crooked smile in place. You were content just holding her hand for the first time, walking through the emerald trees. It was scenic, for sure. The sound of birds chirping, echoing through the vast space, the shuffle of leaves underfoot, a crack of a fallen branch. There was no one else around, just the two of you. The sudden realization had a spark igniting in your stomach, and you let your hair fall around your face to curtain your flushed cheeks.

The random appearance of an abandoned tennis court was totally unanticipated.

Nature had claimed it back for the wild. Vines tangled in the chainlinks, dirt and debris darkening the previous green texture of the court. The net was slashed rather than stolen, hanging limp at their respective posts. The singular umpire chair had been knocked to its side, splintered and covered in cobwebs. It was obvious that it had been long forgotten.

Except by Rosé. You could see as you approached the fence a section on one end of the court where someone had brought a broom and had cleared away a spot for a blanket. There was no doubt that she had planned this, for you or simply for herself.

“Where are we?” you whispered. For some reason, it felt like you had to.

“An abandoned development,” Rosé spoke. She brought you to a portion of the fence that had been cut and pried away. The thought of a delinquent Rosé showing up with a set of bolt cutters was oddly appealing. “Someone intended to build a luxury condominium out here, away from the bustle of the city, but it fell through a long time ago. I don’t know much else, but it’s been here since I can remember. It’s my favorite place to go to escape... everything.”

The way she finished had you casting a curious glance in her direction, but she didn’t bother meeting your eyes this time. There was that feeling that she was hiding something again, like she knew everything about you but refused to tell you anything about her. For once, it pecked at your heart, making you a bit angry.

Of course you couldn’t stay angry at her for long, and it dissipated the second she brought you to the blanket and motioned for you to sit. The blanket had to be cleaned regularly because it felt so plush underneath your hands as you folded onto it. Rosé joined you once you were comfortable, stretching out those long legs of hers and reclining back on her hands, sighing deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed and you were given the opportunity to just gaze at her. She was so stunningly beautiful, and you wondered briefly how you ever ended up with her.

“I figured you could use this place too,” she whispered without opening her eyes. She looked so peaceful, and she was right. It was so quiet out here, save the natural sounds of the woods providing ambiance. You laid down on your back, arms tucked under your head, and gazed up at the sky. Despite having been overgrown, the trees hadn’t grown close enough yet to construct their canopy. There was the gentle warmth of the sun stretching to reach you in your little cove. It would be growing dark in a couple hours, and you mused about what Rosé would come up with to give you light.

“Are you feeling well?” she asked, interrupting you daydreaming. You nodded, no words needed. Above you, she smiled, turning her attention down to you. “You looked lost for a second. I guess you like it here.”

“I do,” you admitted, eyes shifting to her lips, then her eyes. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you for like, a week.”

At that she chuckled, looking away again, out to the distance. “Yeah, it’s all good. Just got involved with that dumb shit again. Like usual with those guys.” A finger poked you in the ribs, evoking a laugh. “I got your message --- thank you.”

“I was worried,” you confessed. You didn’t want to hide how you felt when it came to hearing about how she was hurt. “Lisa said it was nasty.”

“Could’ve been worse.” Rosé shrugged. It was something they both said to you now. Just another casual occurrence apparently. “You never know what’s going to happen there. Tensions have been high recently, what with a lot of the gang members falling apart. Loyalty doesn’t mean much to people these days.” There was a pause and you swore you saw something flit across her features. “It means everything to me.”

“That’s because you’re a good person,” you stated, sitting up onto your forearms to garner her attention. All you got was a jagged swallow, as though what you said didn’t sit well with her. “You know that, right?”

Rosé looked at you suddenly, and before you could ask about the tears in her eyes, she was gasping out, “Am I really?”

“Why not?” you countered, the need to justify boiling in your chest. “You’ve been nothing short of... fuck, just amazing to me. I couldn’t care less about the people you hang around or any of that other shit. You’re a good person, Rosé.” You said it like you were trying to drill it into her head.

The red-blonde blinked back her tears, swallowing again, avoiding your gaze. She took a moment to breathe. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t need to!” You sat up the rest of the way, twisting to face her properly. Still, she didn’t meet your eyes. She was looking somewhere else beside you to keep from losing her composure. “I may not have known you for long, and I may not know a lot about your life, but I know how I feel when I’m around you. I trust you. You can tell me all about you, what you’ve done, what you plan to do, but whatever you say won’t change that simple fact.”

When Rosé looked at you again, it was with that look. That look, a concoction of amusement, surprise, and puzzlement --- like she had you all spelled out in her head and you suddenly jumbled it all up. That look she gave you when you told her you didn’t like her smoking instead of keeping the opinion to yourself. That look when your facade gave a moment and she got to see that shy persona hidden away under the confidence you built with shaking hands. That look...

It was cut off by a bitter laugh, shoulders sinking, glancing at the sky.

“I have great parents,” Rosé started. It was your turn to be surprised, eyes widening a moment. “They’ve never done me wrong, but after everything I’ve done, I feel like I fall short of their expectations. Like I’ve failed them. They tried to give me the best life I could have, encouraged me to do well in my studies and with singing.” That was a neat little fact to tuck away. “It just seems like life has a different plan for me, no matter what they wanted. I guess I’m really easy to frame, put the blame on. It only got bad at the end of high school, and I started getting in fights with kids because they thought they were hot shit and would pick on people who couldn’t stand up for themselves. I have a soft spot for those people, like it’s ingrained in me to protect them. But of course, it made me look like the aggressor, and I would get in trouble for all of it.

“I’ve been arrested once, for aggravated assault. I can own up to that. But since that one time, I’ve vowed to stay out of jail. It wasn’t so bad, I was only in for about a month, and then had to do community service and pay a fuckton of fines. But I didn’t want to be known for that, someone people are scared of being around because I might fuck them up or something... I don’t know. I’ve never gone out of my way to hurt someone if they didn’t deserve it in the first place.”

It felt like there was more she was going to say but she stopped, and you were left in the silence to muddle over all she had just told you. It was a very brief overview, but it was more than you ever thought you’d know about her. Despite it, there was no sense of danger being around her. Rosé would never touch you like that.

“Oh,” she perked up. “I don’t do drugs. I mean, I’ve smoked pot in the past, but all I have nowadays are cigs. That’s for the others, not my style. I have my hands full of blood, not drugs.” Then she laughed, shaking her head, blonde hair highlighted by the low sunrays wisping around her face. “That sounded really bad.”

“I like it.” You hadn’t expected that to come out exactly, but it was true. And it was part of you speaking your feelings, not cowering behind your own thoughts. Rosé lifted her face, eyes shining, and offered you a weak smile. She sniffled and wiped at her nose, such a soft gesture in comparison to the story she had told you. You knew that wasn’t who she was beneath the leather and metal and smoke.

“Well, after it was all said and done, my parents didn’t and I didn’t like disappointing them. So I left. I didn’t want that on them, to deal with a daughter like this. I moved out here, falling easily into the wrong crowd. The only person who really kept me afloat was Jennie.”

“Jennie, the bar owner?” you interrupted.

“Yeah, random, I know,” she chuckled. “I was looking for work and Jennie was the only person who didn’t immediately turn me out on my ass by one look at my record. But she didn’t have any real openings for me. So she made me her financial supervisor.”

“Whoa,” you breathed in astonishment.

“Yeah, I’m really good at numbers and stuff like that. With so much on her hands, owning just about the only bar that houses the roughest and rowdiest, she thought I could help her out with some side work, and that way, it would keep me out of trouble. She saw potential in me. And it really worked out. I’m often busy with her business and it’s a great job. She also really did need the help, so she’s happy I’m around. I’ve been with her for a while now. I met Lisa and Jisoo through her, the only girls --- the only friends --- I’m ever around a lot.

“Don’t get me wrong, they bring around their own drama. Especially Lisa. That girl’s a fucking whirlwind. You know she was there that night at the store?”

“She was?” You could hardly remember anything about that night besides Rosé. When you thought about it, it was always that first impression of the hardened girl walking through the doors and stealing your heart that you remembered.

Then you faltered.

Rosé really has stolen your heart, and you weren’t even privy to this obvious fact.

“Yeah, she walked in with me, remember?” Rosé tried to jog your memory, laughing lightly, unaware of the revelation you were going through. “She told me you were staring and I---”

In retrospect, you would never understand what came over you then.

The kiss was so sudden that you both never expected it. Your heart hammered in your chest so loud, it was all you could hear right before you dove in. It was messy, unsaid words catching between your mouths, teeth crashing against each other’s, and you almost tumbled against her when your hand slipped off the material of her jacket on her shoulder. But it only served to throw your hand on top of hers on the blanket, and as soon as she registered what you were doing, her fingers laced with yours and a hand clasped the back of your head, holding you against her lips.

The kiss became something else. It was so much and not enough and everything you dreamt. The world fell away around you and all that remained was Rosé’s lips, that faint taste of smoke on them, how soft her skin felt against your cheek, between your fingers, how she tangled up your hair. And her moan that just escaped? You swore you sank further into her.

All this time you entertained your feelings for this bad girl.

But you didn’t know you would fall in love with Rosé instead.

When you opened your eyes again, it was nearly dark. Fading light in the colors of melting cotton candy tinted the horizon. The air was cool but you remained warm, blushing at how close you two had become on the blanket. One of Rosé’s legs had slid between your own, her entire body angled for you. You took a deep breath, the first to reach the depths of your lungs. Every kiss stole a little more air from you, leaving you dizzied. Adrenaline streaming through your veins acted like a drug that numbed anything that wasn’t Rosé.

There was so much that Rosé wanted to say, you could see it in her eyes. Nothing came forth and you knew the feeling of having it jammed in your throat, unable to say a word. The only thing she gave you was a smile, a genuine, unadulterated smile, and you knew there was one thing that you wanted to say to her.

“Rosé...” you whispered, feeling weightless. “I---”

♡ part iii.

#blackpink #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fanfiction #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #scenarios #PART II IS HERE !!!#it is the shortest of the three parts #mostly because it's filler #getting to know the characters and such #ENJOY #😘

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sarcastic-dogood · 7 years

Text

Island of Misfit Delinquents Part 2

A/N: O wants to go to the zoo, Murphy advocates against Body Shaming, Jasper is zebra prejudice, and the gang runs into some trouble..... So like just any other typical day

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

The Island of Misfit Delinquents

5:15 am

Blake 2: *added Nathan Miller + JJ Goggles + Smol Son Monty to the group chat*

Blake 2: Which one of you sons of bitches is up for road trip to the Polis Zoo

Blake 1: I’ll gladly offer up my car to drive you back to where you belong among the wild beasts

Blake 2: KMGRKJFNBIFLK I’M TRIGGERED

Nathan Miller: I just spent the past three hours trying to get this lanky drunk dude in a neon pink spandex body suit and feather boa who was screaming obscenities at me home so count me as a no

King Azgeda: Wait I thought you were working last night. I didn’t know you were hanging out with Jasper

JJ Goggles: Don’t roast me like this

Smol Son Monty: Yeah roast anything else about him but his body suit

Smol Son Monty: He’s very insecure about his figure

Murph-Man: WHO’S BODY SHAMING JAS I WILL FIGHT THEM

Commander Clarke: John Murphy- the hero I never knew our group needed

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Such a cliched anti-hero, that John Murphy

Caw Caw Little Birdy: BUT ALSO SAME BECAUSE I WILL FIGHT ANYONE WHO OFFENDS JASPER IN THE SLIGHTEST HOLD MY EARRINGS

Blake 1: What a power couple

Blake 2: But for real lets go to the zoo today. Roan said he’d buy me a churro. Or twelve

King Azgeda: You’re definitely not having 12 churros

Blake 2: You’re not my boyfriend anymore

King Azgeda: You’re definitely not having 12 churros CAUSE I WAS GOING TO BUY YOU 13 CHURROS

Commander Clarke: Nice save

JONTAVIA GROUP CHAT

6:52

JJ Goggles: Hey O

Blake 2: Hey J

JJ Goggles: How would you feel about Monty and I sneaking alcohol into the zoo?

Smol Son Monty: HYPOTHETICALLY sneaking in alcohol

Blake 2: I’d say HYPOTHETICALLY maybe

JJ Goggles: I’ve always wanted to get drunk at the zoo and naked fight the zebras

Blake 2: OH MY SHIT

Blake 2: PLEASE

Blake 2: But what do you have against the zebras, Jas?

JJ Goggles: They’ve got SO many stripes. Like pick a single color you over-hyped up multi-colored horse fuckers

Blake 2: ?

Smol Son Monty: Don’t mind him. He’s already started pre-gaming

The Island of Misfit Delinquents

7:30 am

Caw Caw Little Birdy: For whoever is riding in my car to the zoo, your father and I are here outside Casa Blake

Murph-Man: Yes, it is I, your father. And you are all disappointments and the reason I drink

Commander Clarke: Awww it’s like I’m actually talking to my real parents

Blake 1: BABE OMG

Commander Clarke: Wow forgot to compartmentalize my feelings there for a second #wildin

Blake 2: Don’t worry, Clarkey. I got fruit snacks and juice pouches to help numb the pain

Commander Clarke: Scooby-Doo ones?

Blake 2: Are there any other kind of fruit snacks?

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Like jinkies gang! Get in the Mystery Machine or Murphy’s pasty ass is the only one going to the zoo

Blake 1 + Commander Clarke

8:09 am

Blake 1: Remind me again why we decided to split up the cars into boys and girls?

Commander Clarke: Cause Raven, O and I aren’t about to spend the next two hours listening to you guys bitch about our music

Blake 1: You bitch about Taylor Swift one time....

Commander Clarke: I can assure you we will never forget

Commander Clarke: *I-Knew-Bellamy-Was-Trouble.vid*

King Azgeda created a new chat

9:54 am

King Azgeda: *named the chat Beastie Boys*

Murph-Man: I can’t believe youre subjectifying me to this 1987 swill

King Azgeda: Appreciate the classics

Blake 1: NO SLEEP TILL

Blake 1: *guitar solo from the gods*

Blake 1: B R O O K L Y N

King Azgeda: FOOT ON THE PEDAL NEVER EVER FALSE METAL ENGINE RUNNING HOTTER THEN A BOILING KETTLE

Smol Son Monty: Ya’ll sleeping on Boyz To Men

JJ Goggles: I got you little homie

The Island of Misfit Delinquents

9:57 am

King Azgeda: Had to make a small pit stop

Blake 2: What why

Blake 1: Just needed to stretch our legs

Murph-Man: All of us

King Azgeda: In separate directions

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Did you guys sing I’ll Make Love To You by Boyz To Men to each other again?

Commander Clarke: fuck you guys we’ve been over this

JJ Goggles: Idk what those others losers are talking about

JJ Goggles: I was going IN on that song

Murph-Man: Yeah and making direct eye contact while singing it to us

JJ Goggles: Masculinity so fragile #cantrelate

The Island of Misfit Delinquents

10:32 am

Blake 2: WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS

Commander Clarke: We’ve been waiting in the parking lot of the zoo for like 20 wtf

Caw Caw Little Birdy: O is starting to smell the fresh baked churros and honestly I’ve never been more afraid for my wellbeing

Blake 2: HELLO

Blake 2: Listen here shit-for-brains

Blake 2: You guys are going to get here and you are going to get here NOW

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Um pls hurry

Smol Son Monty: NFJKVNFONVFONVM

Commander Clarke: Did you have a stroke while typing, Monty?

Blake 1: WE LITERALLY ALMOST JUST GOT MASS-MURDERED IN A GAS STATION FUCKLFNJENFBRU3

Nathan Miller: I have about eight million texts to read through but I’m glad I woke up to Bellamy’s frantic text about being deceased

Commander Clarke: Are you guys ok?!

JJ Goggles: We’re fine bUUUT Roan totally made me spill like half my flask down the front of my pants when he went to shield me and Monty with his chiseled upper body

King Azgeda: Sorry???

Nathan Miller: He’s a real fucking monster

Blake 1: Murphy went like MMA street fighter on this dudes ass

Blake 1: Like I’m not even kidding. This rando serial killer comes charging up to the cash register where we’re all standing and demands all the money and cigarettes and lotto scratchers

Smol Son Monty: And our wallets and anything expensive we had on us!!

Blake 1: He’s waving this gun around and the gas station clerk is scrambling around to gather all his demands. And then the guy turns around to us and puts the barrel right against mURPHY’S HEAD

Caw Caw Little Birdy: OHMYGOD

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Murphy are you hurt?!

JJ Goggles: HURT!?!??

Smol Son Monty: he literally stEPS CLOSER TO THE GUY

King Azgeda: AND SMILES

Blake 2: FUCK. IT. UP. YAS BITCH

Blake 1: I honestly don’t even know what happened after that??? Like????

Blake 1: He’s literally standing there with the gun to his head one second and then the next he has this dude on the floor knocked tf out and with a broken wrist

JJ Goggles: Like bone-popping-out-of-skin broken wrist

Nathan Miller: I miss all the fun stuff :(

Murph-Man: Sorry the police just finished questioning me

Murph-Man: I’m all good Rey. Pinky Promise babe <3

The Island of Misfit Delinquents

1:45 pm

Blake 2: Got my churros finally!!!!!!!!

King Azgeda: *churr-O’s happy dance.vid*

Commander Clarke: S’cute

Blake 1: Not as cute as Clarke tho

Murph-Man: I just barfed in my mouth

Smol Son Monty: Not to be like rude but the zoo is kinda underwhelming after the gas station

JJ Goggles: hella underwhelming

Caw Caw Little Birdy: I’m just glad ya’ll are safe

Commander Clarke: For real

Blake 2: Don’t worry. Jasper is almost drunk enough to naked fight the zebras

Commander Clarke: what

Blake 2: what

JJ Goggles: Whhhhaaaaaaaaattttttttt

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limpblotter · 7 years

Text

The UNTAMEABLE Peggy Schuyler

a/n: ... guess who finished 6 episodes of kimmy schimt? meee. summary: Peggy is a sweet but strong willed girl who is taking on the city with her untamed spirit. She rooms with some colorful individuals and manages to make some great friends all the while hoping her past doesn’t bite her in the ass. warning: unedited/raw draft drabble & corny ass plot w/c: 1865

1. Peggy & the Boys

“Welcome to Fatro Bank, how can I help you?”

“Yes, hi, I’d like to take all the money out of my bank account please.” “Name Ma’am” “Margarita Schuyler, but everyone calls me Peggy.” “Mm…Ma’am you have eighteen-thousand dollars in the bank with us…” “I know, I want it all.”

Nothing beat the summer in New York City. It was an aesthetic to get use to. The noxious fumes of cars and trash, the neon colors of signs meeting the contrast of bland and lonesome concrete, yes the city was not for everyone. Making it here meant selling a bit of humanity. Manners and dignity were often second hand traits to survival, the hustle and bustle. It was no place for a girl of eight teen sporting a semi-expensive yellow dress in the middle of Brooklyn’s busiest intersection. It was no place for wide brown eyes and a duffle bag full of dreams and wonders.

It was not a place for the tamed and the easily broken.

It was a good thing that among the many things the youngest of the Schuyler girls had was an untamed spirit. Of course running away at nineteen was unheard of. Peggy deliberated for days before her big scheme whether she was suffering from some sort of stress crisis. But from what? Perhaps the pressures of having two seemingly perfect sisters and who were leading perfect lives? The idea of going to college and unsure what to pursue or maybe the boy her father had introduced her to was finally getting on her last nerve? “ugh…” she grumbled scratching her arm, all of it was giving her hives. She shook her head and began walking down the line of lovely brownstone apartments. “Excuse me.” She walked up to a man with large, mane like hair. “Are you selling these homes? I’d like one, please. Something with a view…ooo and maybe some shelves…” The man turned his head and arched an eyebrow. “You would hm? Sure darling let me toss in some open floor plans and a pool on the roof while I’m at it.” “Oh I don’t need a pool, maintenance on those are In.Sane.” Peggy giggled looking around. The man in the purple suit ran a hand over his puff of hair, letting it spring back to form. “Darlin’, why don’t you run back to your mommy and daddy. Unless you got 10k to drop on me every month these houses are not for the likes of you.” “Pay…you?” “Yes, darling, see I bought these houses off some I dunno, immigrant family or whatever, flipped them for profit and fun. Its like…playing monopoly with…a lot more racial displacement and gentrification.” “That sound awful.” “I’m a Jefferson, its what I do. Now, leave before I call the cops on your pretty little behind” Thomas wiggled his fingers as Peggy made a face taking a few steps back from the front steps of the building. He was a very mean man who had a very nice voice. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, no matter. Surely there had to be another place. The hike around Brooklyn’s more scenic areas reminded her of visits to her aunt in Manhattan. Lovely buildings with iron fences and small rooftop gardens, more importantly the adventure that waited at every corner. Peggy found a few cats, a couple with triples riding a bike while drinking juices, and a homeless man she traded 50$ for his snap-back hat. This was the most fantastic day already! And it wasn’t even noon. Peggy paused in front of another row of lovely buildings and noticed there was a sign beside the stairs that read ‘Property of Thomas Jefferson’ and a phone number. “Here too? Man…he must really like monopoly.” She turned up her lip and kept walking. It seemed every building she tried so far was owned by Thomas…Finally after two hours Peggy hiked herself away from the soft, urban scenery of the upper class too…a drastically different view. She took two steps back and felt the warm, bird singing ambiance of the nicer neighborhood then took a step forward and was immediately met with the sounds of police sirens and crying babies. “Trippy…” she muttered walking down the cracked sidewalk, the buildings were mostly condemned with a few where shirtless men lounged on the stoop. They catcalled her and she immediately turned around. “Hi I’m Peggy Schuyler and most definitely not your…’Mama’ do you know where I can find a place to stay” after some crude offers and red faced insults the men were left dumbfounded as Peggy stormed off. Having left a copy of her eldest sister’s book ‘Women: how to treat them, how to love them’. To be honest she was just happy to get rid of it, it weighed a ton. Eventually she stopped a particularly rundown looking apartment with a large shouldered black man sitting back in the stood with a bag opened. She was on guard, ready to breeze past him when she noticed there was a ‘Roommate Wanted’ sign beside him. “Oh! Oh are you?...” “Yes!” The man exclaimed, “can’t a black man knit on his property without the police—oh you’re not police. Sorry, I’ve been frisked twice. I’m having a bad day.” “I’m so sorry why would anyone do that to you?...what’s frisk?” “They pat me down looking for something, then they laugh at me when they find my back is full of yarn and knitting needles. You honestly can’t win this some people.” Hercules shrugged a bit. “what can I do for you lil lady?” “Sir, I am looking for a place to stay!” Herc looked her up and down taking in her shiny flats and yellow dress… “That hat…does not go with your outfit” He commended on beaten up Red Soxs hat. “I wanted to blend in with New York.” “Rule one: New Yorkers HATE the Red Sox, also I think that hat has fleas.” He motioned to her head, suddenly Peggy tossed the hat aside and began scratching her head feverishly. “As for the place, we need a roommate, but I don’t know…” “Please, please, please I can pay!” She opened her duffle bag and Herc took a step back. He hadn’t seen that much money in years. “I’ve been walking for hours and I can’t find a place that isn’t owned by that…Jeffy guy.” “Ok, hold your roll sweetheart” “Peggy, my name is Peggy.” “Ok Peggy, why do you have all that cash are you some…new age drug dealer?” “No I’m…” She paused wondering if this would be the time to reveal she was a wealthy daughter to a wealthy lawyer from upstate. “I won the lotto?” Herc looked at her for some time and crossed his arms. Peggy felt sweat bead up against her neck as she held back nervous giggles that would give her away in no time. “Alright…but you have to pass the roommate test with the rest of the guys.” “Of course!” wait, guys she paused. She followed Herc up seven flights of stairs until she was huffing and panting. He opened the door to a cozy, and slightly musky smelling apartment. He gave her a quick tour of the kitchen which only had two working burners and a microwave. Also a fridge that if it wasn’t buzzing meant it wasn’t working. The living room where various video games and pants were scattered, and three doors. “Alright, so that room is John’s, this one is mine, and that was a closet but Alexander uses it. He doesn’t take up space…I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping on the desk he installed there anyway. Rent is 250$ a month not including water and gas. We split that evenly and I do the grocery shopping, you want anything you gotta leave me the cash for it.” Herc smiled a bit. “How does that sound to you?” Peggy was already digging through her things and slapped cash into Herc’s hand. “Awesome, sauce!” “Alright, well if you wait about two seconds you’ll meet John.” He took the money and walked into one of the rooms. “Johnny” Herc cooed in a strangely affectionate voice. The door closed, there was some rustling, some stumbling, then the door swung open again and Herc walked out with a smaller, freckled man punching his arm playfully. “John, Peggy, Peggy John. She wants to move in.” “Hiya!” Peggy beamed offering her hand. John looked her over and nodded, “sure, she’s cute so she fits in perfect with us.” He gave her a toothy grin. “I’m John Laurens, I work in the pet shop about seven blocks away.” “That’s great!” “Sure if you love puppy mills and kids running in trying to tap the fish tanks.” John shook his head and went to the fridge. “Surprised Alex let you bring someone in.” “Well…” Herc rubbed the back of his head. “Didn’t say Alex knew yet.” With that, John let out a hard laugh. “Alex is gonna be piiiiissed” Peggy looked between the two men, dropping her bag on the floor. “Who is Alex?” “Currently the only one paying rent.” John chuckled. “I just started working so I’m not seeing a paycheck for a bit. Herc works from ‘home’ manning his Etsy shop. Alex works with the government.” “Woah..” Peggy blinked, that was impressive. “Like a spy?” “More like…uh…he’s the guy that does the research for the guy who does the speeches for the guy who suggests things to some of the city council members. So I suppose down the change of government work…yeah its kinda cool.” Herc shrugged a bit taking a plop on the couch, uplifting some dust and moths. “To sum it up, homeboy argues for a living.” “I’m fairly certain if he’s not arguing he dies…isn’t that what we signed for when he took him in?” “I’m sure it was mentioned in the fine print.” The three joined in laughter, though Peggy had no idea who the third roommate was, he sounded fantastic. She couldn’t wait to meet him! She settled in for an hour, cleaned a bit, spoke to Hercules and John about their lives as she skillfully avoided any questions about her life. Eventually the door swung open again. The man that walked in was pretty small in comparison to John and Herc in both height and frame. He dropped his messenger bag on the floor and dragged his feet towards the small room. “Hey Alex, long day?” “mhmm” He groaned, eyes shut as he tread like a zombie through the house. Herc and John nodded, adding in “well we found a roommate” “Nice…” he yawned only half listening, his mind was aching. No sleep for three days and nothing but work was finally coming down on him. Nothing they could say would stop him from hitting the bed and falling asleep for the next week. “Yea she’s great you’ll love her.” Herc spoke low watching Alexander slid into his room. “Alright, I think its all settled!” Peggy clapped her hands once she was presented with the lease, she had just finished her signature when an unholy, high pitch screeched came from Alexander’s makeshift room. “SHE?”

#hamilton #drabble #oneshot #peggy schuyler #hercules mulligan #john laurens #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #the untamed peggy #draft #uneditted #help #lololol #just wanted to get this idea out there #lordy

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itsworn · 6 years

Text

Roadster Wisdom … Or Why I Own a Roadster

I find myself in a quandary. I like hot rods, I thoroughly enjoy my roadster, and I would like to build another. The quandary comes when I look at my budget … or lack thereof. I have come to that life-altering decision, “Should I sell my roadster?”

For starters, that’s exactly where I am. I will need to sell my 1929 Ford highboy roadster (full disclosure: it’s a Brookville body) in order to move onto a new ride. I haven’t finished the thought process but I know that somewhere there is either a 1940 Ford or a 1934 two-door sedan that would like to live in SoCal. Don’t get me wrong, I in no way want to part ways with my roadster, as it is everything a hot rod should be … great looking, fun to drive, reliable, comfortable (as roadsters with solid front and rear suspensions can be), and it’s paid for! But, reality is nice cars cost money to build, own, and drive so my time has come to make a really hard decision. (This decision could be greatly alleviated should I find myself on the winning end of a Lotto ticket. But alas, I’m too cheap to play, so the odds of me winning are nil.)

It’s been a long time but I once had a conversation with an East Coast rodder by the name of Glenn Roy from Massachusetts. To be specific, he had some wonderful “roadster wisdom;” single-sentence bits of wisdom that explain why roadster owners truly are different from the rest of the group. One of his first quotes about the wisdom behind owning a roadster goes something like this:

“Street rods move the body. Roadsters move the soul.”

That’s profound, and without getting all sappy that pretty much sums up why I have always owned a roadster, and more specifically a highboy roadster. I couldn’t have typed it any better. It’s true, “Roadsters move the soul.” There’s something about getting into an open-air car and tooling down the highway, whether they be high-speed interstates or some twisting and turning “blue lanes” that wander through the backcountry from coast to coast. I should point out that I have had the luxury of driving from coast to coast in my roadster and I can truly say without any hesitation there’s no replacement for the sheer joy this effort brings. In a moment of reflection my favorite drive time comes late at night when the air is cool, maybe a bit nippy, the traffic has passed, and your destination lies ahead of you … two to three hours. The joy of comfortably cruising down the highway while keeping an eye on the road ahead, “stealing” a look into the heavens filled with the brightest of stars and imagining if the moon really is made from cheese—I hope thinly sliced Swiss—is the reason I drive a roadster.

Of course: “You never want to drive so late into the night that you sleep through the sunrise.” Sunrise behind the wheel of a roadster is truly an experience to behold.

“A long ride can clear your mind, restore your faith, and use up a lot of gas.”

And that my friends is why you own a roadster. My first early hot rod was a 1929 highboy, and my current ride is another Model A on Deuce ’rails (along with a collection of other odds and ends), but it is nearest and dearest to me.

Another such pearl of wisdom goes something like this: “Roadsters can never hold everything you want, but they can hold everything you need.”

OK, there have been times when my roadster, which is very capable of holding a myriad of replacement parts, didn’t have what I needed. I still got to my destination and found that I had one more great story to tell. So, I guess it did hold everything that I “needed.”

Everyone who knows me knows I have a true love of animals. I’m one of those who can never have enough dogs and cats running around the house and sleeping in the garage under the car cover on the bench seat of the roadster. There’s nothing quite like trying to vacuum cat hair from your roadsters carpet, or better yet have it fly up in the mouth while chugging out of the garage and building momentum down the street. I know, as it happens all the time. And it is because of this that I have a keen sense of knowing why “a dog sticks his head out the car window.”

There’s every likelihood that there will be a closed car in my future. I’m just not sure I’m improving my lot in life.

The post Roadster Wisdom … Or Why I Own a Roadster appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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sparklybouquetcandyme-blog · 6 years

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Assault in area packed with auto dealers as well as garages is the current in renewed wave of blasts to strike the Iraqi funding. Confronted with a West Wing that treated policymaking as a free-for-all, Head of state Donald Trump's chief of staff, John Kelly, is instituting a system utilized by previous administrations to limit internal competition-- as well as to make himself the last word on the product that crosses the president's workdesk. The Podhale is located in the foothills of the Tatra series of the Carpathian hills. It is dealing with the Eastside YMCA as well as Manor Like screen people to raise recognition about high blood pressure. Yes, a Trainee NTE could be non-competitively transformed to the competitive service offered the task chance announcement utilized to fill up the Trainee NTE setting specified the conversion potential and all various other requirements for conversion have actually been met. Taxi to the facility of 20 zł. We recommend, Łukasz as well as Mikolaj from Wroclaw. Partager sur Facebook Tweeter Google+ 20 partages. La façon la plus rapide de partager le Tweet d'une autre personne avec vos abonnés se fait avec un Retweet. The device has actually been utilized on the field of battle and in noncombatant health centers since it introduced in 2014, assisted by a $5 million grant from the United States Military. Attorney general of the United States Lisa Madigan's sudden as well as unanticipated statement that she would not look for a fifth term has actually produced a possible top-tier contest for a significant statewide office, and also candidates from both celebrations rapidly began taking into consideration quotes. There are couple of councils, and specifically their Health and Safety Departments, that could ever before be associated with having an abundance of common sense. In a close range from the hut you can discover numerous vital ski resorst like Białka Tatrzańska, Bukowina and Zakopane. Time invested under previous Internship Program visits might count towards called for job experience hours. En visite à Lisbonne, sa ville natale, le client de PSA annonce un plan d'investissement massif dans le berceau historique de Peugeot. Click OK, after that refresh this Yelp web page as well as attempt your search once more. As component of its effort to supply multinational makers with the means to reinforce precise engineering illustration and also paperwork interpretation throughout their supply chain, ASME broadened its geometric dimensioning and tolerancing (GDTP) employees certification program this summertime to align with its latest 2009 Y14.5 Geometric Dimensioning and also Tolerancing standard. I have actually never entirely gotten over uncovering red food colouring, cochineal, is made from Mexican insects. In this expert-led tutorial, senior DBA as well as technological instructor Basit Farooq gives a step-by-step overview for making use of the SQL Web server Import as well as Export Wizard to move information between SQL Server databases as well as Microsoft Excel worksheets. A wonderful place to get mementos and local works of art made by local artists is additionally a quit at Highland Road. I need to state, it is among the nicest place I've stayed in between Nowy Targ and also Zakopane! It determined 5 challenges influenced the caseworker's capability to do their works properly and save youngsters from misuse. When utilizing such limitations, OPM strongly motivates agencies to accept any kind of applications obtained up till 11:59 p.m. of the day the limitation is gotten to (to fit applicants in non-Eastern time zones). Disclose's business version shares anonymized user place information with online advertisers. Category of dance songs played at village wedding events in Bulgaria. Discover the least expensive Nowy Targ airport auto service now with KAYAK. VesselFinder additionally gathers and also maintains comprehensive information regarding ship activity history (e.g ship track) for the previous 7 days (max). Video launched by Rosemont police Friday depicts Kenneka Jenkins staggering alone through a deserted resort cooking area and also going away around a corner-- the last time she's seen alive. A firm must make its choice from the finest quality category. The Sancus security architecture for networked ingrained devices was suggested in 2013 at the USENIX Safety and security meeting. The U.S. Workplace of Personnel Management (OPM) promulgated executing laws and also ordered them at different locations in the Code of Federal Regulations (CFR), generally 5 CFR parts 213, 315, and also 362. Located in the city centre there are a myriad of eco-friendly areas, consisting of Arboretum, Planty Park and Jordan Parkto name just a few - the latter has a swimming pool and play areas so there is much for every person when remaining at Campanile Krakow Hotel. Not all sections appearing on the left of our overview, on this location may have information as this is a continuous job. Nowa Biała to jedyna spiska wieś na lewym brzegu rzeki Białki, a ta według geografów wyznacza granicę między Podhalem a Spiszem. This will certainly permit you to earn one of the most of your account with personalization, plus obtain access to commenting tools, exclusive games, the chance to win awesome football prizes as well as much, far more. A good base for service journeys to lots of fascinating locations. I attach terrific significance to take care of nature as well as ecological lifestyle and also healthy consuming. In the semifinals Cracovia won 3-0 versus GKS Jastrzębie while Nowy Tag advanced beating 5-3 champ GKS Tychy. CIĄGLE ZMIENIANY TRENING, WYKONYWANY NA WYSOKIEJ INTENSYWNOŚCI Z WYKORZYSTANIEM RUCHÓW FUNKCJONALNYCH. The popular weather application as well as data monetization firm Reveal have issued a joint declaration after safety and security scientist Will certainly Strafach found proof that AccuWeather was still sharing Wi-Fi MAC address information with Reveal even after customers opted out of sharing area data by means of the app. Selon les premières constatations, les trois affaires n'ont aucun lien entre elles. Dameyon Massey, 19, was arraigned Tuesday morning and taken to prison on $100,000 bond. Keep you from opening a new account, requesting a task, renting out an apartment, or getting insurance policy. Sign up currently to start getting breaking news alerts on your desktop. The paintings were produced by the Youthful Poland landscape artists: Leon Wyczółkowski - author of one of the most attractive and also most authentic paintings and prints showing the Tatra Mountains; Jan Stanisławski, who - attracted by these hills - continuously returned to the Tatras and arranged outdoors paint sessions for the pupils of his landscape class", as well as Stanisław Gałek - Stanisławski's trainee and a musician applauding the appeal of the Tatra Mountains, who came from the more youthful generation.

Erie's earliest African American church is collecting today in exactly what's a milestone year for their yearly seminar. Workers in Charlottesville curtained giant black covers over 2 sculptures of Confederate generals on Wednesday to podhale symbolize the city's mourning for a female eliminated while protesting a white nationalist rally. The place loved it. We pertained to the area to get Turbacz and a bit further up Babia mountain. We really did not get a prize in California," claimed Cathy Johnston, spokeswoman for the California Lotto game. The Greater Erie Environment for Humankind introduced Thursday it will certainly be leaving its current headquarters on East 9th Street. Center for Workflow Research in Medication as well as Medical care, H. Milton Stewart Institution of Industrial and also Solution Engineering, Georgia Institute of Innovation, Atlanta, GA 30332-0205, USA. Based on 5 CFR component 302, firms can normally pick from among 3 option methods when filling jobs in the excepted service: the placed checklist, the unranked listing, or a category rating-like process. ASME's head of state addresses subjects including educational programs, current issues of public policy, as well as the several ways engineers have a positive influence in the world. Inning accordance with the SPLC's yearly demographics of hate teams, the rise was led by a near-tripling of anti-Muslim groups. Since the sound regulates sent via LEAP are not correctly confirmed, an assailant could use the memory corruption to gain complete control of the gadget. Electrical energy comes just from photovoltaic cells - in limited amounts in a natural way - 12V (at the home 220V inverters are offered, so therefore charge the cell or use of a laptop computer is no problem, yet do not take along for instance. Insert the complying with code right into the HTML of your web page. As this wave started to have youngsters a need grew amidst their ranks to recreate the Polish Scouting experience, and to carve out a little the Polish landscape in Western New York. To utilize these large resources, a binary power cycle for electrical energy and also warmth manufacturing is thought about by group of scientists. Throughout fiscal year 2015, Apple obtained 1,986 U.S. Account Requests as well as offered some data in 82% of these requests. Trainees that effectively finish the program may be eligible for conversion to a permanent work in the civil service. Il va notamment rencontrer le Premier ministre socialiste qui, put gouverner, à su rassembler. Don't think too much - just go all out. We highly recommend Smolenisko. Nowy Targ remains in the heart of the huge container Orawa - Nowy Targ, about 24 km north of Zakopane on the course to Krakow as well as is at Latitude: 49 ° 28 ′ N, Longitude 20 ° 01 ′ E, Altitude 585 to 680 metres. Please avoid utilizing obscenity or efforts to approximate profanity with creative punctuation, in any kind of language. If OPM does not maintain the demand, the company may not pass over the professional on the basis of the factor presented. If they have an outbreak and it is revealing itself in sign, MARQUIS will NOT KILL coccidia. Expanding trend: handpainted wedding dresses inspired by folklore of Polish highlanders. The Internet undergoes strikes as a result of vulnerabilities in its directing procedures. The USA made use of depleted uranium anti-tank rounds on two celebrations in 2015 during ravaging air campaign against convoys of Islamic State vessel trucks, the Government claimed Thursday. . Information Safety (shortened as InfoSec) is the continuous process of working out due diligence to secure information, as well as information systems, from unauthorized accessibility, usage, disclosure, destruction, distribution, disturbance or modification, via formulas as well as procedures focused on surveillance and also discovery, as well as event response and also fixing. We are worried that the vulnerabilities we found are just the idea of the iceberg, and that the distinct implementations of the protocol on other platforms might include extra vulnerabilities. We stayed over the New Year's Eve period, while it was mighty snowy and also the bordering fields as well as woods were a sight out of this world, simply picturesque. Complying with the reaction, ESPN released a declaration saying that reassigning the commentator was a cumulative decision," according to CNN Cash Provided the level of sensitivity of the issue, it's reasonable why they did exactly what they did. With Busbud, you could acquire tickets with confidence. Cherie Blair seems to have dropped right from the running. Nowy Targ along the Dunajec River, located in the valley below the Gorce Hills. Nonetheless, if a specific comes to be a Finalist and ultimately makes an application for the PMF Program during the next open announcement, the person will certainly surrender his/her standing as a Finalist. Skills & Abilities in the Networked Public Sphere deals with an arising field of modern technology planners, data researchers, security specialists, trainers, and designers to multiply the influence of actors in the human rights and transparency industries. A comparable prohibition was in force in other towns in the Podhale area. Prowadzone od ponad 20 lat badania archeologiczne przyniosły jaskini w Obłazowej światową sławę. The increasing complexity of systems makes hand-operated evaluation almost impossible. The XStat 30, a sponge-filled syringe that can connect deep as well as slim wounds from stabbings or gunfires in secs, has actually gotten approval from the United States for usage in the arm and leg. Airborne attacks, however, supply a number of chances for the opponent. Karen DeAngelo has actually been a shih-tzu dog breeder because 1986 of GLORY RIDGE SHIH-TZU (). Her web site has won the 2006 and 2007 Pet dog Lovers Web site Award for BEST SHIH-TZU PHOTOS. Unless you are a follower of Lenin, this publication does not influence. Pluton słowackich samochodów pancernych ostrzelał domy na rynku. President Trump reaches his project rally in Phoenix az on Tuesday. It was reported around 9 a.m. inside a residence in the 200 block of Short Road. Cottage with extraordinary sights of the Tatra Mountains as well as Nowy Targ. . Enter days to see the overall trip price consisting of extra costs (however leaving out any type of taxes). The Neo-Gothic brick temple, which still exists today, was founded in the late 19th century on the site of the initial taken apart church which had actually been developed from larch wood. Minor advice - you should purchase, with whatever you might require throughout your stay to stay clear of lengthy trips to the store. Back in the Privacy dialog, Click Manage Internet site Data ... as well as kind right into the search bar. While establishing every brand-new field we always keep in mind the requirements and particular character of the neighborhood region. COCCIDIA misbehaves NEWS and also can trigger FATALITY in young puppies. Your home is a small collection with books for grownups (czytadeł to an extra enthusiastic literature) along with for children. The charitable Jewish genealogy organization JewishGen has a comprehensive online database of Yizkor publications and also the towns that they record. Agencies might hold employment occasions at just one school or college prior to filling a work under the Pathways Programs as a part of a more comprehensive and also extra extensive outreach as well as employment technique. Irene Clark of Orlando was owning eastbound on Westover Roberts Road near Florida's Turnpike regarding 9:40 a.m. and also stopped at a crossway with a flashing red light, FHP Sgt. It was homecoming night at Fort Leboeuf, but quarterback Jason Williams as well as the Erie High crime ruled the area in a 42-3 triumph over the Bison.

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