#the college ill be graduating from has their name in the sidewalk with all the other graduates from the year i was born | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

The most dangerous game

I know I’ve been hella dead, but I return with my usual! Stano smut! I dunno why I adore writing these two so much, but I guess I’m attached, so yeah. Ya’ll get content.

CW: Predator/prey vibes, Xeno gets chased but there’s no real big acknowledgement of it.

It was likely because Xeno had developed a persistently wonky sleep schedule that he got so many night time jobs. That, he supposed, was why he was once again out at night hunting another Vampire, despite having told his boss of his run-in with a particularly pretty vampire. However, at the moment, Xeno somewhat wished he was dealing with Stan instead. At least with him he could rely on his need to flirt and toy with him to give him away. But no, the scientist wasn't hunting Stanley, but instead a completely different vampire who was proving his dislike for hunting the blood sucking monsters. Taking advantage of how dark the night was, the human's weaker vision, and whatever ninja techniques he had learned from the internet, the young vampire had hidden annoyingly well in the thick blanket of shadows and clutter on the streets. So, the white-haired college graduate was poking around at every rock and thicket of grass or bushes along the sidewalk before the boiling irritation in his veins got to be too much and he let out a mix of a groan and a scream like a tea pot. Stomping over to one of the few flickering street lights on the road, the hunter stood in the light and dug out his knife, then used it to slash at his stomach to fill the air with the alluring scent of fresh blood. With a pained hiss and the new wet feeling of blood dripping sluggishly down his pale skin, the trap was set, and all the hunter had to do was wait for the shallow cut to work its magic. Which, didn't take long. All Xeno had time to do was get one of his metal stakes from his pocket and extend it, then he was set upon by the vampiric ninja-wannabe. However, despite his skill at stealth, the vampire was young in both a human and vampire sense. Freshly turned at a young age, he'd become a problem because he had yet to grow out of his pubescent hormones quite yet, and giving him a predatory draw and increased strength had only encouraged him to turn hard into the bad boy persona. Sadly, being a new vampire wasn't all improvements. It also meant an increased hunger and little control of your newfound strength. Which is what had led the young man to be targetted by the monster hunter association, and swiftly wiped out by a stake through the throat via Xeno Wingfield. With a grunt, the monster hunter threw the freshly dead young man to the sidewalk, wincing at the burning and itching sting bending down to yank the stake from his throat brought to his stomach. For a moment or so, he felt bad for the creature. He'd been young, and he'd let his newfound powers obviously go to his head after a lifetime diet of anime and movies, the silver haired hunter could understand his over excitement, but he also had little to no patience for dumbasses who couldn't register that they weren't in Naruto. So, his sympathy was brief, and he was soon just dragging the young creature's corpse into some bushes and calling the cleaning crew to come collect him. Then. He spoke. "God damn, Doll. You're quite attractive when you're being lethal." Stan hummed, hopping down from his hiding spot in a nearby tree and giving the hunter a charming smile that he refused to admit brought a little heat to his face. "Oh, so you're just gonna become a full blown stalker now? Did you follow me from my house, or was this another 'coincidental' run-in." Xeno's words dripped with sarcasm and venom, but the vampire simply rolled his glacial blue eyes, "Actually, I'm here because I smelled fresh blood," At the mention of fresh blood, the scientist glanced down at his work shirt, spotting the tiny stain of blood his cut had left, "Oh." He inwardly winced at how disappointed he sounded, but tried to recover with a sniff, "I had trouble luring the bastard out. It was quite the shock for me to find out that not every vampire would want to chase me down and prowl around my house for the entire fucking night." Stan simply snorted, fishing out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one before he spoke again, "Nah, that's just my thing, doll," "Quit calling me doll! You have my name now, fucking quit." The vampire put his hands up in mock surrender, though his smirk didn't falter under the scientist's withering glare. For a moment, they simply stood in the cool night's darkness, the hunter with his arms crossed and dark eyes narrowed, and the vampire returning his malicious look with his own nonchalant, half-lidded one while he breathed whispy smoke from his dark mouth. Both men seemed to dare the other to say something or do anything, each looking for an excuse to make some sort of contact until the smaller male spoke again, "Are you expecting me to run away? Because I told you the first time we met, I'm not likely to do that," He huffed, but Stan simply shrugged, "I'm just messing with ya, doesn't matter to me if you run or not." He grinned more at the lightning fast moment of irritation on Xeno's face, but the hunter schooled his facial features back into their usual disdain-filled glare, only broiling with frustration on the inside. He hated this man's relaxed demeanor. He was a monster hunter, the tall, hypnotically pretty predator should be avoiding him at all costs. Yet here he was, needling at him as if he couldn't end him just as quickly as he had the younger blood sucker. Okay, well, not as quickly. Stanley had a good four inches on the monster hunter at least, and had a body that had been frozen at the prime of his life, toned and pruned like an artfully shaped shrub through the years into a gorgeous, powerful example of why humans were the apex predators of the world. Or, well, they were, but with his change into the more monstrous his status as the perfect predator had only increased. Stan was perfectly built to hunt humans. Not only did he have a supernatural magnetic beauty to him, but he'd been human, so he knew how humans behave first hand. He was a nightmarish wet dream. Xeno gave his head a good shake to banish those thoughts from his mind when he realized he was looking the vampire over with the hunger of a sugar baby sizing up their next piggy bank. "Hey, Xeno," Stan hummed, but the hunter refused to look back at the man, which he simply took as a greenlight to continue, "you wanna play our little game tonight?" The hunter snorted in response, staring off into the darkness while his cheeks cooled, "I thought you were only here to bother me, not play a game of fucked up tag," He said calmly, only looked back at the man when he heard him walking closer, only stopping when he was about two feet away, maybe within reach, a grin on his pretty face, "Well, I thought it'd be a bit more polite to offer that rather than just asking if I could drink your blood outright." he reasoned, amused at the edge of poutiness that he seemed to sniff out through the veil of aloof indifference the hunter spoke with. "No thanks to either offer, I don't want to be chased tonight." Xeno sniffed in response, simply adding a thicker layer of ill temper to cover how excited he was at the thought of being pursued a second time. The first time had, admittedly, given him a thrill, but he wasn't ready to voice such to the annoying vampire in front of him. However, Stan seemed to have picked up on his kryptonite from that first round, "But aren't you curious to see what happens when you add the scent of blood to the mix?" The purr in the man's voice annoyed Xeno immensely, but the thought of maybe learning just how sensitive vampire instincts were, and how quickly one would succumb to them. Obviously young vampires are more prone to being controlled by their need to feed, but Stanley isn't a new vampire, that curious voice mused, already setting Xeno on a very likely stupid and dangerous path, It'd be immensely helpful to know just how easy it is to bring out those base urges in him. If he's going to follow you around it's best to know what to avoid so he doesn't go feral. It further encouraged, stoking the flames of the scientist's natural curiosity until he hummed, "I suppose it would be useful for the association to know exactly what triggers a vampire to go into a frenzy of some sort. Fine." The vampire grinned at that, "You do know that I can't promise my feeding instinct is the only one that'll come to the surface," he pointed out, making Xeno blink and raise an eyebrow at him, "What? Why would any other instinct come into play?" turning red as Stan laughed, "Well, in simple terms, I find you too attractive to promise that when I catch you I'd only want to drink your blood~" Xeno's face warmed up more at that, getting huffy and tripping over his words in his rush to snap at him. "You can have a five minute head start, just like last time," he simply assured, "Just need a bit of blood, because your original scratch has closed," He laughed more when Xeno pulled up his shirt to see that his shallow cut from earlier had in fact begun to heal, no longer bleeding and instead beginning to scab over. The hunter only responded with a glare at that point as he plucked his knife from the sidewalk where he'd dropped it and wiped it off before leaving another cut along his stomach, this one a bit deeper than the first, but not enough to linger for more than a day or two. With that, Stan gave him a charming smile that showed his extending fangs, his blue eyes already getting a hungry gleam to them. So, without further conversation, Xeno took off down the street. The cuts on his stomach stung and itched more from his running, but he pressed on. His main concern was regulating his breathing and energy so that he could get as far away from the vampire as he could in his small window of time. Naturally, his plan wasn't to just run in a straight line and wait to be caught, not only would that likely be dangerous, as a vampire in a feeding frenzy was much more violent, but was less likely to fulfill the goal of bringing those deadly instincts to the surface at all. So, instead, he sought out other people, a crowded area, maybe a shop, that way it wasn't as easy for the predator to catch up to him. This is insanely stupid, that voice of reason finally spoke up, not only am I playing with fire by instigating an instinctual reaction, but I am woefully under prepared to run from Stan. He realized, filling his veins with icy terror when the weight of his situation fully sunk in, The first time we did this I barely survive on pure panic and him toying with me. If he really loses his shit and goes into a frenzy, I can't outrun him. The reality of the thought hurt, but it was sorely true. Despite all of his training as a monster hunter, Xeno had never been one for good cardio, namely in the stamina category. He relied on his wits and pure speed, not his ability to maintain those speedy response times or pace for long periods. but it's too late now, he reminded himself, thinking back to the way the vampire's fangs had extended so soon after he'd given him a fresh source of scent. Nope, he couldn't chicken out now. He had no choice but to stick to his plan and push the panic and fear aside. Instead, he simply focused on the route ahead of him and locked onto the light of a store further down the street, which he headed for instantly. The bright, artificial light blinded the pale scientist for a moment when he stumbled into the store, but he was swift to regain his barrings and dash down the aisles and through the crowds of night owls and whatnot that were still up at this hour. He knew that his five minutes had ended a minute or so before. Meaning he didn't have long before the vampire would be on his ass. So, thinking quickly, he swiped his hand over his wounds, then smeared the blood on his palm onto the tile flooring in an aisle. Once he had that down, Xeno ran off deeper into the store. He had very few places to hide. The bathroom was basically a dead end with no windows and only one door, he couldn't climb up the shelves or to the rafters in a timely manner, so he forwent that plan. Instead, he did the next best thing. leaving as distracting a trail as possible before bolting out one of the fire exits. "Shit," he wheezed when the fire exit triggered a screaming alarm through out the store. If Stan was in there, he'd definitely know he got out now, but that only meant the scientist had less time to think of such things. He had to focus on running. So, Xeno ignored the way his legs throbbed, and his lungs ached from gulping down the cold night air. He focused entirely on getting home, or at least to a more residential area. He could feel his limbs getting heavier, threatening more and more to give out with each step, but his grit his teeth and bared it until the threat became reality and the asphalt bit into his skin. And there he laid for a few seconds, gasping for air and scraping up as much energy as he could to push himself to his feet. As he did, he glanced back down the street, and sure enough. Stanley was coming out of the alley Xeno'd run out of, his glowing blue eyes locking onto the scientist in an instant. With another curse spat out through gritted teeth, Xeno took off again. His legs still screamed from exhaustion, and now his hands stung viciously from the fall, but he kept going. He could hear Stan closing in on him, which gave him a final burst of frantic energy that carried him to at least the park near his home before the vampire finally tackled him to the grass. The scientist could only wheeze in response, letting the vampire crush against him and push his face into his pale neck with a growl. That seemed to snap him out of the exhaustion cloud, and in an instant, Xeno was squirming and forcing himself up once again. The only way he managed it was because the vampire was taken by surprise, so he was able to slip from his grasp and scramble up, but he only got a few more steps before he had to lean against a tree for support so that his legs didn't crumble a third time. Then, just as quickly as he'd gotten away, Xeno was back in Stan's luke-warm arms, trapped against his needlessly heaving chest with his fangs hovering over his jugular once more. However, he didn't bite down. To the contrary, the feral vampire seemed to hesitate for a moment, seemingly weighing his options of what to do with the hunter before settling on a choice and swiftly switching to almost slamming him against the nearest tree. "S-Stanley!" The hunter wheezed, more surprised then anything, pushing back so that his face at least wasn't forced into the course bark and he could look back to try and see the blonde behind him. Said blonde was keeping him in place with a hand on one of his shoulders, looking Xeno in the eye and almost relishing the dawning realization that painted his pale cheeks before he used his free hand to hook into his pants and tug them down pretty roughly. Then, he was back at the man's neck, but this time he bit with his blunter teeth, sucking at the skin until Xeno's mewls and hums were pulled out and he was satisfied with the hickey he'd left. The scientist, meanwhile was a bit ashamed of how quickly he accepted the turn of events. He tried to save some face by muffling the noises bubbling in his throat, but Stan's mouth at his neck, paired with the way he ground his groin into his now-bear rear drug a few noises out. Though, it also bat back the fog of hormones and lust long enough for the hunter to realize that he was very likely to get hurt if he didn't intervene. So, he whined and reached up to tangle his fingers in Stan's messy hair, tugging at it until he finally relinquished his throat from the second hickey he was dedicated on leaving. Carefully, Xeno turned himself around with what little room he was permitted between the vampire's muscular chest and the much-less-forgiving tree. Once they were face to face though, the college graduate's brain no longer seemed to work, so, the two simply stood there, panting a bit from the chase, before he finally gave up on using words and instead simply sunk down to his knees. Keeping his eyes glued to the glowing blue pair above him as he went. Luckily enough for him, his actions at least intrigued the vampire, because he was allowed to tug his bottoms down just enough for his member to spring free, which earned him a noise somewhere between a growl and a hum. With Stan's pants down and his member now standing erect in front of him, Xeno hesitated. Should it matter if I'm any good at this sort of shit? I just need some sort of lubrication, and he shouldn't really care about anything beyond...mating, so surely he won't give a shit, right? He asked himself, puzzling over the predicament before Stan reached down to grab onto his shirt, reminding the scientist of his lack of patience. So, Xeno threw his insecurities to the wind and grabbed onto the base of the shaft so he could slip Stan's impatient member into his mouth. The vampire moaned in response, and Xeno took that as a sign that he'd bought a bit more time for himself. So, he slowed down, bobbing his head at a medium sort of pace to work himself up to taking as much of the length as he could, which, thankfully for him, was almost all of it thanks to years of speed-drinking coffee and energy drinks and eating at record speeds in college. He also found that once he actually got to moving, the embarrassment of his lack of skills faded away, and part of him simply enjoyed the groans he got out of Stan while he moved his lips up and down him at a steady pace. He simply continued to work him as much as he could until the vampire let out a little hiss and gripped onto the scientist's shirt until he pulled away and let his throbbing member go with a coy 'pop'. Suddenly, Xeno was yanked back to his feet and whirled around again to be slammed back into the tree. His pants were tugged down once more and his feet were kicked apart in rapid succession so the monster hunter only got a moment's break before Stan pushed into him. And while it hurt still, the white-haired man found that he didn't mind as much. As the vampire began thrusting into him, one hand clawing into his hip, the other on his shoulder, Xeno moaned out curses and did his best to grab onto the tree or Stan's neck to keep steady under the merciless thrusts of the blonde. It was shameful how hot his body got, but with how Stan was hitting that sweetspot within Xeno, his face back to being buried in his neck for more marks, Xeno couldn't care less. "Mmmm, fuck! ah, r-right there, please!" he plead, tangling his fingers back into Stan's hair as he moaned, giving another lewd noise when his pursuer did as he asked, swiftly learning that doing so got more needy noises from the hormone-addled hunter. With that, Xeno lost all coherency as euphoria further fogged his mind, and soon brought him to his peak with a whine of the vampire's name. Though, Stan didn't stop when Xeno came, he just kept thrusting into him, still flooding his pale body with more and more pleasure while his hot puffs of breath tickled his hickey-littered neck. The continued rough treatment was beginning to sting, but the edge of pain only seemed to bolster Xeno's pleasure back to its peak, pushing a second orgasm from him before Stan finally grew sloppy with his thrusts and soon gave one final movement before emptying himself into the hunter. After that, the monster hunter let himself melt against the tree, relying on Stanley to hold him up because he was on the verge of passing out after that night's activities. The last thing Xeno remembered was giving a thumbs up to what he assumed was the question 'are you okay'. Then, he let his exhaustion take him into dreamland.

#dr stone #drst #stanXeno #Stan x Xeno #monster au #scenario #vampire!Stan #Monster hunter!Xeno #not sfw

15 notes · View notes

farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak Weather

Genre: Weatherman!Jin, Metropolis/loosely based off comic books, Rivalry, soft Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jin/Male Reader

Warnings: all the sexual tension lol, hurricanes

Synopsis: The rival weatherman at Channel 5 just so happens to be Kim Seokjin who you just so happened to have had a thing with in college. Sort of. When a hurricane brings the two of you back together again, the forecast calls for love and dredged up feelings.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Will you please turn that off?" you asked, taking a sip of your coffee. Normally, you took it with a little vanilla-flavored creamer, but much like that morning's coffee, you were bitter.

"Aw, why? Seokjin looks so cute in his turtleneck this morning," one of the writers said, fawning over the Channel 5 weatherman. "Maybe you should start wearing turtlenecks. It might boost our ratings."

You rolled your eyes as the red light came on indicating that you would soon be on camera. You set your coffee to the side and stepped in front of the green screen.

"Good morning, Metropolis," you said. "You can expect some light rain on your commute today. It should clear up by lunchtime though and it will be partly cloudy for the rest of the day. You watched as the map viewers saw at home shifted as you shifted the topic. "As you know, a hurricane is forming a few hundred miles off the coast. We are currently predicting landfall early next week. I will be traveling to Diamond Beach as the storm approaches to give you the most recent updates. Thanks for watching Channel 4 News, now here's Andrea with traffic."

The red light switched from you and onto Andrea's camera on the other side of the studio. You let out a sigh and walked back to your desk away from the main set.

"You went to school with him, right?" the same writer asked, still watching Seokjin on the screen. His station gave him more screentime because he was so well loved in the city, often they pan to him coming back from commercial breaks and whenever there was a view question or poll.

"Yeah," you said. There was only one university near Metropolis that offered a robust meteorology program and most of the city's weather people came from it. You and Seokjin had gone through together, even graduating at the same ceremony.

"Wow, was he still so stunning in college? Like, I don't think I could've focused if he was in my classes."

"Depends on who you ask."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

5 Years Earlier

"Having trouble focusing?" you asked Seokjin as you noticed his dark eyes were no longer looking down at the computer screen.

"Hmm, it's a bit hard when you look at the screen like that," he said, smirking and turning around to lean against the desk. "Tell me, what's a guy gotta do to get you to look at him like that?"

"Be a warm front." You watched as a warm front moved towards the city while a cold one moved simultaneously from the other direction.

"What if I'm a hot front?" He turned to face you, his hip still leaning against the desk, but his body was close enough that it brushed yours as he moved.

"Seokjin, stop." You clicked a few more times and turned to flip through your textbook. "It's a storm for sure. A thunderstorm or tornado. Shit, it could be anything, how are we supposed to figure this out."

"Its the weather, not heart surgery. We can be wrong fifty percent of the time and still good at our job."

"But, if we're wrong fifty percent of the time, we'll fail this class."

Jin sighed and crossed his arms as his eyes lingered down your body. "Listen, Y/N. We both know that you're going to stress about this for twenty minutes and then figure it out like you always do. Now, come on, let's take a break."

"And do what?" you asked, letting out a breath between your teeth, not tearing your eyes away from the screen.

"I don't know. I have a few ideas though" His breath was against your ear and his body heat radiated against your own.

"Seokjin, this can't happen."

"Why not?"

"Cause I need to focus on school. I'm here on a scholarship. I can't risk distractions."

Jin sighed and looked down at the weather map on the screen. "It's a thunderstorm," he said. "The currents aren't strong enough for a tornado and based on the patterns, its the most logical."

You quickly wrote down the answer and his reasoning, realizing that he was right. How he surmised the answer so quickly, especially when he was barely paying attention baffled you.

"All right, now, come on," he said. "I'm taking you out for lunch and you can't deny me that. I know you're hungry."

"Fine," you said, shutting your textbooks and allowing the computer's screensaver to come on.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Just hours later that same night, you found yourself looking up at the ceiling of Jin's bedroom. Soft cotton sheets wrapped around your torso and they felt softer than even the best sheets you'd ever owned. His shirtless form was turned away from you and you resisted the urge to reach up and run a hand through his dark hair. He'd let it grow long recently, the ends of his hair beginning to grow onto his neck.

"Stop staring at me," Seokjin said, you could hear the smirk in his voice. He turned around to face you. His eyes were calm and soft like the sheets, but you couldn't help but feel the sadness. The knowing.

"How'd you know?" Your voice was small.

"I could feel it. Your eyes hurt, you know?"

You did know. You knew how much it hurt Jin to see your eyes wander down the shape of his torso. That the way you always reached to push his ill-fitting glasses up the bridge of his nose hurt. That knowing he couldn't reach out and sneak his fingertips underneath the hem of your sweater.

"I'm sorry."

"I know, it's okay."

"It's not, Seokjin. We need to move on. Forget about each other. It's best for our futures."

"You know that's not true."

"Seokjin, we both want the same things in life. We'd be competing with each other for every job. We'd rush to get the story before the other. It wouldn't last."

"We don't know that unless we try."

"Seokjin, I don't want to give myself the chance to hate you."

You got up from the bed and buttoned your shirt, pulled on your trousers, and tied your shoes. Seokjin watched you, didn't try to stop you as you headed towards the door. Gripping the doorknob, you walked out and back down to the sidewalk below.

Following that day, you didn't see Seokjin again. Sure, he still sat a few rows in front of you, he still presented in class, you glanced over his name in the paper when it was announced he was taking over the weather position for Channel 5. You saw him on billboards and on Reddit posts. Yet, you never met allowed your eyes to meet his again. Unless it was through the warm, freshly printed Metropolis Daily.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Nearly no one was heading east towards Diamond Beach. Westbound traffic was full of cars heading into the city to weather the storm, while eastbound only consisted of a few cars. Mostly media and others who couldn't drop everything and run from the hurricane.

You could just make out the Channel 5 van ahead of you. Focusing down on your laptop which was tracking the conditions minute by minute, you tried not to focus on the fact you would likely run into Seokjin.

This certainly wasn't the first time a hurricane or tropical storm caused you and Seokjin to collide like convergent fronts. Every year you found yourself at Diamond Beach trying not to watch his broadcast from a few meters down the beach.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Two Hours Later

"Hello, this Y/N Y/L/N reporting for Channel 4 news. Hurricane Roke is expected to make landfall later tonight. Most of Diamond Beach and the surrounding areas have been evacuated as Roke is currently a category four storm. I will be monitoring the storm and providing updates through Twitter throughout the night and I'll be back on the beach at 5am. This has been Y/N Y/L/N covering Hurricane Roke. Now, back to the studio."

You felt Jin's eyes on you as you gave your report. He was about two hundred feet down the beach. He wore a similar coat to your own and even with his hood pulled up you could feel the way his eyes cut through you.

Once the red light on your camera went off, the one on Seokjin's came on and he began his report. It was nearly identical to yours, Seokjin adding his own flair and charm. Like you wished you could.

Seokjin finished his broadcast and your filmographer began to pack up. "I'll see you bright and early in the morning?" she asked, her hair catching in the wind and obscuring her face.

You nodded and helped her pack up the camera and other supplies, working quickly to prevent it from getting damaged from the wind or rain. Walking up the beach and back to the hotel felt like it took forever, especially with the heavy filming equipment.

Your filmographer had already checked in earlier and headed to her room, carrying the camera and filming equipment. You kept the portable meteorological tools, already anxious to set it up in your room. Jin and his filmographer came in just as you got to the front desk.

Giving them your name, you handed them your ID and the company credit card. The receptionist furrowed her brow and glanced up at you.

"It looks like your room was accidentally double booked," she said. "I apologize, but due to the current situation, would you mind sharing?"

"Uh, sure, that's no problem. Who am I sharing with?"

The woman squinted at her computer. "Kim Seokjin."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"You're not even going to look at me?" Seokjin asked as the two of you set up your computers. He'd let you have the desk while he took the counter of the kitchenette.

"Not until I get this setup."

Seokjin sighed and pulled out his phone. Service was already finicky, but he managed to pull up Spotify and got music to play. It was soft, as not to disturb your neighbors in the packed hotel.

You smiled as you heard the familiar tune "Dancing Queen". Jin was a fan of older music and the two of you used to listen to ABBA's Greatest Hits when studying together.

"You still listen to this?"

"Of course," he said. "It makes me happy."

It made you happy too and when you finished setting up your computer you peaked out the window. The storm was still a couple of hours from landfall, but the trees were already swaying wildly.

"It's going to be a big one," Jin said, glancing at you and catching your eye. It was the first time you'd truly looked at each other since the day you'd left him on his own. It felt like a lightning bolt skewered you in half.

"Yeah," you said, sitting down on the bed. "It is."

You traced the seams of the comforter with your index finger. The song switched and this time it was "Can't Help Falling In Love With You".

Jin finished setting up his computer. Your screen and his looked nearly identical showing a map of the coastline and the storm approaching. He sat down beside you, closer than you would've thought an acquaintance would sit.

"We should go to bed. Early start tomorrow." His voice commanded you to look at him. "Let's not fight over the bed." Placing down the two extra pillows down the center of the bed, he went to the bathroom to change.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

The storm was in full force when you made your way outside. The four of you: you, Jin, and your two filmographers tried to get onto the beach, but the sand cut your skin. Various debris already littered the beach. Mostly seaweed and tree branches, although you noticed a few shoes and patio furniture from the nearby condos.

"The hotel said we could report from outside," you said. "It'd be safer."

Jin chewed on his cheek and glanced out at the beach. The two filmographers began to set up their cameras and you did you best to ensure your hair didn't fall into your face. You stood away from the wind, finding it hard to breath with it blowing onto your face.

"Seokjin! Stop!" His filmographer yelled, abandoning his equipment, he rushed towards the other man. You turned to see that Seokjin had taken off towards the beach, seemingly want to report from there no matter the circumstances.

You looked over at your coworker and she gave you a curt nod, ensuring that she would watch over the equipment. She dragged both cameras inside the lobby one at a time. Giving her an empathetic look, you took off running towards the beach, hoping to catch up with Seokjin before he got entirely soaked.

When you came to the edge of the beach, you saw that Seokjin was already halfway out, his filmographer not far behind. You sighed and continued out, knowing he was determined to give the report from as close to the middle of the storm as he could.

The filmographer neared the middle of the beach, fearing going any further. When you caught up to him, you stopped to catch your breath, even though it was nearly impossible with the wind. Your breath was swept away as soon as you drew it in.

"He's crazy," the other man said. "I have no idea why he's doing this."

"He always has to go the extra mile," you said, rolling your eyes. "Even if it's stupid and dangerous."

Seokjin turned back to look for his camera operator, only to see him halted halfway up the beach. Seokjin was three-quarters of the way up the beach now, reaching dangerously close to the rough tide. He noticed you still running towards him and smiled before a gust of wind knocked him off his feet.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Your chest constricted when you saw Jin get thrown off his feet. He landed a few feet away in the sand. You ran as quickly as you could, falling to your knees beside him.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking him over.

His eyes looked up at you, obviously taking in your features. Yet, his lips said nothing.

"You crazy bastard! What the hell were you thinking? Rushing out here like that? You of all people should know how dangerous that is." You could barely catch your breath between words as you placed your hands on his arms to help him sit up. He didn't budge, however, his eyes just locked on your face.

"What are you doing?" you asked, sighing and dropping your hands from his hands, looking down to meet his eyes for the first time.

He smiled when you finally met his eyes and leaned up to connect his lips to yours. It was brief due to the circumstances, but it felt like lightning coursing through your veins.

"I ran cause I knew you would chase me."

63 notes · View notes

blackkudos · 4 years

Text

Donny Hathaway

Donny Edward Hathaway (October 1, 1945 – January 13, 1979) was an American jazz, blues, soul and gospel singer, songwriter, arranger and pianist. Hathaway signed with Atlantic Records in 1969 and with his first single for the Atco label, "The Ghetto", in early 1970, Rolling Stone magazine "marked him as a major new force in soul music." His enduring songs include "The Ghetto", "This Christmas", "Someday We'll All Be Free", "Little Ghetto Boy", "I Love You More Than You'll Ever Know", signature versions of "A Song for You" and "For All We Know", and "Where Is the Love" and "The Closer I Get to You", two of many collaborations with Roberta Flack. "Where Is the Love" won the Grammy Award for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocals in 1973. At the height of his career Hathaway was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and was known to not take his prescribed medication regularly enough to properly control his symptoms. On January 13, 1979, Hathaway's body was found outside the luxury hotel Essex House in New York City; his death was ruled a suicide.

Early life

Hathaway, the son of Drusella Huntley, was born in Chicago but raised with his grandmother, Martha Pitts, also known as Martha Crumwell, in the Carr Square housing project of St. Louis. Hathaway began singing in a church choir with his grandmother, a professional gospel singer, at the age of three and studying piano. He graduated from Vashon High School in 1963. Hathaway then studied music on a fine arts scholarship at Howard University in Washington, D.C., where he met close friend Roberta Flack. At Howard, he was also a member of the Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity. Hathaway formed a jazz trio with drummer Ric Powell while there but during 1967 left Howard just before completing a degree, after receiving job offers in the music business.

Career

Hathaway worked as songwriter, session musician and producer for Curtis Mayfield's Curtom Records in Chicago. He did the arrangements for hits by the Unifics ("Court of Love" and "The Beginning of My End") and took part in projects by the Staple Singers, Jerry Butler, Aretha Franklin, the Impressions and Curtis Mayfield himself. After becoming a "house producer" at Curtom, he also started recording there. Hathaway recorded his first single under his own name in 1969, a duet with singer June Conquest called "I Thank You Baby". They also recorded the duet "Just Another Reason", released as the b-side. Former Cleveland Browns president Bill Futterer, who as a college student promoted Curtom in the southeast in 1968 and 1969, was befriended by Hathaway and has cited Hathaway's influence on his later projects.

That year, Hathaway signed to Atco Records, then a division of Atlantic Records, after being spotted for the label by producer/musician King Curtis at a trade convention. He released his first single of note, "The Ghetto, Pt. 1", which he co-wrote with former Howard roommate Leroy Hutson, who became a performer, writer and producer with Curtom. The track appeared the following year on his critically acclaimed debut LP, Everything Is Everything, which he co-produced with Ric Powell while also arranging all the cuts. His second LP, Donny Hathaway, consisted mostly of covers of contemporary pop, soul, and gospel songs. His third album Roberta Flack & Donny Hathaway was an album of duets with former Howard University associate and label mate Roberta Flack that established him, especially on the pop charts. The album was both a critical and commercial success, including the Ralph MacDonald-penned track "Where Is The Love", which proved to be not only an R&B success, but also scored Top Five on the pop Hot 100. It sold over one million copies, and was awarded a gold disc by the RIAA on September 5, 1972. The album also included a number of other covers, including versions of Carole King's "You've Got a Friend", "Baby I Love You", originally a hit for Aretha Franklin, and "You've Lost That Loving Feeling".

Perhaps Hathaway's most influential recording is his 1972 album, Live, which has been termed "one of the best live albums ever recorded" by Daryl Easlea of the BBC. The album can also be found on the British online music and culture magazine The Quietus' list of "40 Favourite Live Albums". It was recorded at two concerts: side one at The Troubadour in Hollywood, and side two at The Bitter End in Greenwich Village, Manhattan.

Donny Hathaway is also known as the co-composer and performer of the Christmas standard, "This Christmas". The song, released in 1970, has become a holiday staple and is often used in movies, television and advertising. "This Christmas" has been covered by numerous artists across diverse musical genres, including The Whispers, Diana Ross, Aretha Franklin, The Temptations, The Four Tops, Stevie Wonder, Alexander O'Neal, Christina Aguilera, Chicago, Harry Connick, Jr., Dru Hill, *NSYNC, Gloria Estefan, Boney James, The Cheetah Girls, Chris Brown, Anthony Arnett (First Baptist Bracktown Christmas Celebration), Patti LaBelle and Mary J Blige (A Mary Christmas, album 2013), Seal, and Train.

Hathaway followed this flurry of work with some contributions to soundtracks, along with his recording of the theme song to the TV series Maude. He also composed and conducted music for the 1972 soundtrack of the movie Come Back Charleston Blue. In the mid-1970s, he also produced albums for other artists including Cold Blood, where he expanded the musical range of lead singer Lydia Pense.

His final studio album, Extension of a Man came out in 1973 with two tracks, "Love Love Love" and "I Love You More Than You'll Ever Know" reaching both the pop and R&B charts. However, it was probably best noted for his classic ballad, "Someday We'll All Be Free" and a six-minute symphonic-styled instrumental piece called "I Love The Lord, He Heard My Cry". He told UK music journalist David Nathan in 1973, "I always liked pretty music and I've always wanted to write it." Added the writer, "He declined to give one particular influence or inspiration but said that Ravel, Debussy and Stravinsky were amongst whom he studied."

He returned to the charts in 1978 after again teaming up with Roberta Flack for a duet, "The Closer I Get to You" on her album, Blue Lights in the Basement. The song topped the R&B chart and just missed the number 1 spot on the Hot 100 (reaching #2). Atlantic then put out another solo single, "You Were Meant For Me" shortly before his sudden death.Liner notes for later releases of his final solo album explain: "Donny is no longer here, but the song "Someday We'll All Be Free" gathers momentum as part of his legacy... Donny literally sat in the studio and cried when he heard the playback of his final mix. It's pretty special when an artist can create something that wipes them out." Edward Howard, lyricist of the song, adds, "It was a spiritual thing for me... What was going through my mind at the time was Donny, because Donny was a very troubled person. I hoped that at some point he would be released from all that he was going through. There was nothing I could do but write something that might be encouraging for him. He's a good leader for young black men".

Personal life

FamilyHathaway met his wife, Eulaulah, at Howard University and they married in 1967. They had two daughters, Eulaulah Donyll (Lalah) and Kenya. Lalah has enjoyed a successful solo career, while Kenya is a session singer and one of the three backing vocalists on the hit TV program American Idol. Both daughters are graduates of the Berklee College of Music.Mental illnessDuring the best part of his career, Hathaway began to suffer from severe bouts of depression. It was found that he was suffering from paranoid schizophrenia and was known to take strong medication daily to try to control the illness. However, Eulaulah Hathaway has said that her husband was frequently less than diligent about following his prescription regimen. Donnita Hathaway has said that her mother gave her similar information about her father, saying that when he took his medication, he was generally fine, but that when he did not, it was impossible for her to deal with him. Over the course of the 1970s, Hathaway's mental instability wreaked havoc on his life and required several hospitalizations. The effects of his depression and melancholia also drove a wedge in his and Flack's friendship; they did not reconcile for several years, and did not release additional music until the successful release of "The Closer I Get To You" in 1978. Flack and Hathaway then resumed studio recording to compose a second album of duets.

Death

Sessions for another album of duets were underway in 1979. On January 13 of that year, Hathaway began a recording session at which producers/musicians Eric Mercury and James Mtume were present. Mercury and Mtume each reported that although Hathaway's voice sounded good, he began behaving irrationally, seeming to be paranoid and delusional. According to Mtume, Hathaway said that "white people" were trying to kill him and had connected his brain to a machine, for the purpose of stealing his music and his sound. Given Hathaway's behavior, Mercury said that he decided the recording session could not continue, so he aborted it and all of the musicians went home.Hours later, Hathaway was found dead on the sidewalk below the window of his 15th-floor room in New York's Essex House hotel. It was reported that he had jumped from his balcony. The glass had been neatly removed from the window and there were no signs of struggle, leading investigators to rule that Hathaway's death was a suicide. However, his friends were mystified, considering that his career had just entered a resurgence. Flack was devastated and, spurred by his death, included the few duet tracks they had finished on her next album, Roberta Flack Featuring Donny Hathaway. According to Mercury, Hathaway's final recording, included on that album, was "You Are My Heaven", a song Mercury co-wrote with Stevie Wonder.Hathaway's funeral was conducted by the Reverend Jesse Jackson. Later in 1979, the Whispers recorded the tribute song, "Song for Donny", for their self-titled breakthrough album. The song reached #21 on the R&B chart.

Legacy and influence

Hathaway has been widely praised for his voice. Justin Timberlake calls him "the best singer of all time." Raúl Midón said that Hathaway is "the strongest soul singer that ever existed" and compares his vocal technique to a classical singer. "When Donny sings any song, he owns it," David Ritz quotes Stevie Wonder as having said. Amy Winehouse called Hathaway her favorite artist of all time. She mentioned him in her hit "Rehab” and covered several of his songs. Hathaway's work including Donny Hathaway Live, which featured noted R&B musicians Willie Weeks (bass), Fred White (drums), Mike Howard (guitar), Phil Upchurch (lead guitar side 1), Cornell Dupree (lead guitar side 2) and Earl DeRouen (percussion), has been cited as an influence by numerous other artists including John Legend, D'Angelo, Mary J. Blige, Aretha Franklin, Luther Vandross, R. Kelly, Alicia Keys, Jon B., Chris Brown, Nas, Common, Beyoncé, George Benson, Victor Wooten, India.Arie, Jon Gibson, Stevie Wonder, Brian McKnight, Anthony Hamilton, Usher, John Mayer, Led Zeppelin, Freddie Jackson and Frank McComb. Hathaway's use of the Rhodes Piano on his early Atco R&B recordings has also influenced many neo soul artists & producers.A second live album called In Performance, released in 1980 following his death, also included tracks recorded at venues in Los Angeles and New York between 1971 and 1973, showing Hathaway to be a fine stage performer. Later, in 2004, selected tracks from these two albums were added to previously unreleased live recordings for These Songs for You, Live!.For Record Store Day 2014, Live at the Bitter End 1971 was released on 180g vinyl as a numbered, limited edition. This album marks the first time this 1971 performance at The Bitter End has been released on vinyl, previously appearing on the CD release of the 2013 career anthology, Never My Love. The 21-minute recording of "Everything is Everything" had never been released before on any format and was an exclusive track to this release.

Discography

Studio albumsLive albumsSoundtrack albumsCompilation albumsSinglesWith Phil Upchurch

Upchurch (Cadet, 1969)

The Way I Feel (Cadet, 1970)

Tributes

On soul group the Whispers' 1980 self-titled album, the group paid homage with "Song for Donny", written by fellow soul singer Carrie Lucas. The song was set to the melody of Hathaway's "This Christmas".

In 1999 Aaron Hall recorded a brief tribute version of "Someday We'll All Be Free" on the third album for his group Guy titled Guy III, with Teddy Riley and Damion Hall.

In September 2001, Alicia Keys performed "Someday We'll All Be Free" on the 9/11 televised tribute concert America: A Tribute to Heroes.

In 2005, neo-soul singer songwriter guitarist, Raul Midón (Blue Note) worked with Hathaway's longtime producer Arif Mardin (known for collaborations with the Bee Gees, Chaka Khan, Bette Midler, Norah Jones, and Aretha Franklin) and created a tribute song to Hathaway called "Sittin' in the Middle".

In her 2006 song "Rehab", Amy Winehouse sings of learning from "Mr. Hathaway" instead of going to rehab.

In 2007, Deniece Williams covered "Someday We'll All Be Free" for her Love, Niecy Style album. Williams later shared that she broke down in tears in the studio while recording.

In 2008, Ed Pavlic published Winners Have Yet to Be Announced (University of Georgia Press), poems re-imagining the life of Donny Hathaway.

The song "What a Catch, Donnie", from Fall Out Boy's fourth studio album, Folie à Deux (2008), is named for Hathaway and mentions Roberta Flack, his writing partner.

Bizzy Bone's song entitled "A Song for You", is a track that includes an interpolation of Donny Hathaways's original recording of the same name.

In the 2013 song "Classic", band MKTO references writing songs "like Hathaway".

Wikipedia

10 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

surveys by -thoughtlessdork

Have you ever had the chicken pox? Yeah, back when I was 7.

how often do you do laundry? I personally don’t do it because I have help with certain things like that, but it gets done like once a week. I have a lot of clothes.

Have you ever been evicted? Nope.

would you grow your own garden? Nah. I don’t have the green thumb. Or the energy or interest in even trying.

do you know anyone who snores? Yeah.

what is your favorite font? I like Times, Ariel, Verdana, Tahoma, and Georgia.

do you know what a wombat is? I’m familiar with the name and know it’s an animal of some kind, but I couldn’t pick one out of a lineup.

would you make a good movie critic? No, I’m horrible at describing...anything. My movie reviews are like, “Omg, it was soooo good! Amazing cast, intriguing storyline. 10/10 recommend.” haha. Or on the flip side, “Uh, wtf did I just watch? 10/10 would not recommend. Super lame.”

what goal are you aiming for this year? Well, right now I’m just trying to get better from this infection I have and take this disgusting antibiotic for the next 10 days. I wasn’t sure I could do it. I’m still not, but I kinda have to. I’m not getting into it all over again, I made a lengthy rant in a previous recent survey, but basically it’s absolutely awful because I have to crush my pills and this pill is d i s g u s t i n g. My body revolts it when I take it and I have to fight to keep the damn thing down. My body is also dramatic and I don’t do well with nasty tasting things (I mean, most people don’t, but they can probably just suck it up and chug whatever it is or eat it really quickly and move along barely fazed at all... not me). It’s just causing a lot of stress and anxiety and makes me feel worse than the illness because of it and yeah. Not fun. Unfortunately, that’s my only option unless I want to spend a week in the hospital to receive the medicine through an IV and that sounds awful as well. Ha, so much for not getting into all over again. *shrug*

are you currently reading any books at the moment? Not at the moment. I just finished one a few days ago, though, and plan to start a new one soon.

when i say foxy lady what comes to mind? Beyoncé’s character in the Austin Powers movie she was in lol; her name was Foxxy. <<< Hahaha yep.

would you have liked to have lived during the Victorian times? No.

would you own a Siamese cat? No, but I’m just not a cat person.

have you ever had an ultimate adrenaline rush? No.

do you like deviled eggs? I’ve never had them; it’s not a common dish here. But they always look so good in the American shows I watch??? I really hope they taste as good as they look. <<< I think they do! I love ‘em.

what tends to upset you? Upsetting news.

what's the farthest you've walked? All around San Francisco. It’s a big city and the streets and sidewalks go up and down at high slants, so it’s no easy feat.

what is your favorite horror movie? I enjoy several, but my top favorites are the Halloween, Scream, and It movies.

what does your favorite shirt look like? I love all my graphic tees.

is your life like a daily routine? It very much is.

were you ever told as a child if you eat carrots you'll have pretty eyes? Not pretty eyes, but strong eyes.

what career are you most interested in? I don’t know. :/

have you ever seen a rooster? Yeah.

what time do you usually wake up? Lately, it’s been really all over the place. I don’t know what’s going on with my body.

what do you think about religion? I believe in Christianity.

what made you feel most accomplished in your life so far? Graduating college with my BA was my biggest accomplishment. Probably always will be.

have you ever seen a lunar eclipse? No.

what are you allergic to? Tangerines and typical seasonal allergies.

do you ever feel like people hold things you do or say against you? Yes.

what can't you afford but wish you could? A beach home.

what is one word that sums up this year so far? Shitty?

ever felt like you were putting your life in danger? Yes.

what do you like with your eggs? I like scrambled eggs with cheese, green onions, and spinach, or with just country gravy. I like over-easy eggs with just pepper. I like hardboiled eggs as is or with just a little bit of salt. I like deviled eggs with mayo, mustard, and paprika.

what remedy do you partake when experiencing the common cold? The good ol’ wait-for-it-to-go-away life hack. <<< Yep. Cold medicines can help alleviate some of the symptoms a little, although I personally find they don’t really help at all except for if I have a headache. I honestly don’t usually bother taking any cold medicines. I think teas can be soothing and can make me feel a little more relaxed. Ultimately, though, it’s just something you’re gonna have for at least a week or so regardless.

would you ever spend a weekend in the mountains in a log cabin? Not alone, but yes absolutely. That sounds amazing.

have you ever been called a psycho? No.

have you ever taken martial arts? would you? No.

who is someone you look up to? My mom.

is there something you're anxious about? Of course. Ongoing things and new things.

what is the longest you've gone without sleep? Like 36 hours.

what is the longest you've been on the phone? I used to spend a few hours on the phone often with friends back when I was in middle school and some of high school. It still surprises me that I used to do that because of how much I hate talking on the phone now and have for a long time.

do you care about calories? No.

do you know someone with a really annoying laugh? No.

what band do you mostly always listen to no matter what mood? Linkin Park.

have you ever been to Indianapolis? Nope.

what type of bread do you like to eat? Wheat, white, sourdough, croissant.

do you have any great great grandparents still living? No.

what is one country that you really want to visit someday? Sweden.

who usually cooks or what do you usually crave the most? That’s two different questions, but okay. In my household, it’s usually my mom or brother that cooks. My dad does sometimes. As for what I crave the most, it’s ramen and boneless wings from Wingstop.

ever been associated in a program that was a complete waste of time? Hm. Not that I can think of at the moment.

do weird numbers call your phone? Sometimes.

where are you right now? On my bed wrapped in my blanket. I love that it’s finally cold here. It even rained yesterday *chef’s kiss*

do you tend to care about other people's feelings more than your own? I most definitely do.

what type of lifestyle do you want to obtain? if you haven't obtained it? I don’t know.

what was something that use to frighten you as a child? Ghostface from Scream. I love those movies now, though.

have you ever been on a train? Nope.

who's been in your life the longest? did you expect this person to still be around? My family.

how do you feel about anatomy? Uhhh. It’s complex and pretty crazy how it all works.

Insert interesting fact here: Nah.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

4 notes · View notes

365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-Four: Street People ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, homelessness, blindness ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

They met quite by accident.

After the death of his parents and the disappearance of his brother, Sasuke was tossed from family member to family member. But wherever he went, ill luck seemed to follow.

The final straw was his aunt - his mother’s sister - facing a rather sudden death. Her son, Shisui, was already in college several states away when she took Sasuke in at the age of fifteen. For months, things seemed...normal. Manami had claimed she didn’t believe in superstitions like so many others in their family. According to her, they’d always been a magnet for misfortune.

But not long after his sixteenth birthday...Sasuke lost the last safe harbor he’d been afforded. After military service that took her leg, raising a son by herself, and mourning the death of her younger sister...Manami was killed ever so simply in a car wreck.

...she wasn’t even driving. A pedestrian struck on the sidewalk by a drunk driver. Her lacking limb meant she was too slow.

...too slow.

Sasuke found himself with nowhere else to go. Shisui couldn’t take him, and Sasuke refused his apologies.

“I’m not your responsibility. Don’t give up on your future for my sake. Don’t quite school. I’ll figure something out.”

‘Something’ turned out to be couch surfing for a while. But that was soon given up when his dropping out of highschool soured his reputation to many a parent of many a friend.

And so...Sasuke was officially homeless.

Shisui, refusing to do nothing, had given Sasuke his car, claiming he was getting by in the big city without it. It was his only home, a place he could sleep, live, and travel in.

...but that didn’t change the fact that he was alone.

He worked odd jobs as best he could, but few wanted him around. A high school dropout, homeless, and with a bit of an attitude...he wasn’t exactly prime worker material.

Lounging in his car one night, he tried his best to think up some way to make money. He just needed enough to scrape by. Once he turned eighteen, he was sure, he could try to get his GED. Try to start putting pieces of a life back together. And Shisui would be back to help him out. But at the moment...he was stuck.

...and then it hit him.

Literally.

Rolling over in the back seat, he gave a cry and a curse as something along the rear dash tumbled off and clunk him on the head. Scowling and rubbing at the sore spot, he spotted one of the few things he’d managed to keep with him.

His guitar.

...of course…!

The next morning, he found a decent parking lot in a grocery store nearby one of his hometown’s parks. Locking the cart and jogging across a few intersections, he found a bench sat along a fountain. Sighing to steady his nerves, he placed a cap on the ground before him...and started to play.

Admittedly, he was a little rusty - he hadn’t picked the thing up since Manami died. But he knew quite a few tunes, and after a while to warm up...was actually doing pretty well. A few people stopped to listen, some even coming up to throw a few spare coins or bills in his hat, which earned them sheepish, grateful smiles.

And that’s when she showed up.

Drawn by the music, a girl his age carefully maneuvered through the crowd, stopping at the rim of people and listening. This guy was actually pretty good, she couldn’t help but think.

And then he started playing a song she knew...and it was her turn to have an idea. Cane in hand as she carefully guided herself to the edge of the fountain, Hinata sat along the lip...and began to sing along.

Startled, Sasuke had actually fumbled a few notes, looking to his unexpected companion and earning amused laughter from his little crowd. She was angled away from him, just...sitting there singing.

And honestly? She was...really good!

Gawking at her a moment longer, Sasuke eventually reverted his focus, finishing up the song and earning applause. Several people came forward and dropped money, and guilt quickly bloomed in his gut. Scooping up the hat and muttering thanks, he approached the girl, still sitting along the fountain’s edge.

“Hey, uh…” How to address this… “Look, you obviously earned some of this. You want a few bucks?”

“Oh, no - I’m fine. I...I hope I didn’t interrupt…?”

“No! Actually I think that really helped,” he admitted, spare hand itching his neck. Watching her, he realized she wasn’t looking at him, instead staring a bit over his shoulder with oddly-pale eyes.

...wait a minute…

Glancing to her side, he saw the telltale white cane. And then it all fit together.

“Are...are you blind?”

As soon as he blurted it, he went red in embarrassment. That was so rude, he did not just do that...!

“I-I mean -?”

But she just laughed. “I am. And d-don’t worry, I get that a lot. I have minimum vision - I can perceive s-some light, but...otherwise, I’m unable to see most things. Hence the cane.”

“...wow. Uh...I’ve never met someone blind before.” Thus he...really had no idea how to react. “...you...you sing really well.”

“Thank you. I took choir when I was in school.”

Sasuke’s brow furrowed. But she looked his age… “...have you already graduated?”

“No...I had to quit. I...ran away from home a few months ago. For a while I stayed with a friend, but...it didn’t, um...d-didn’t work out. So now I’m doing this solo.”

“Blind?!”

Another laugh. “Well...so far it’s actually h-helped. People tend to be pretty sympathetic. But...it’s still difficult, yes.”

Sasuke scrambled to think of something - someone like her shouldn’t be navigating all of this alone! “W-well...I have a car! If...you need someplace to crash, I’d be fine with it. I can’t just leave you by yourself. That’s not right.”

Her lips curled in a somber smile. “Taking pity on me?”

“N-no, I just -!”

“I’m just teasing you. May I...ask you your name?”

“...Sasuke. Sasuke Uchiha.”

“I’m Hinata Hyūga. Nice to meet you.”

A bit of an awkward silence bloomed.

“...y’know, I...was serious. If you need someplace to go -?”

“I’m sure you’re crowded enough, but I appreciate it.”

“No, really. I can’t just walk away. My mom would kill me. Just…” A nervous hand ran back through his hair...and then he asked, “...what if we just...did this together?”

“What?”

“Y’know...all this. And the performing. I’ve only been here an hour but there’s at least twenty bucks in here. If we, y’know...pooled our talents, I bet we’d do even better. Maybe even make enough to scrape by. And that way neither of us have to go it alone.”

Hearing he was serious, Hinata hesitated. “...you really...want to help me?”

“Hell yeah I do. I know it’d work. We can at least try it today. See what happens. Either way, I’ll buy you some dinner for your help if you decide to leave. How about it?”

Milky eyes blinked, clearly taken aback. “...all right. Let’s try it…!”

And so, they put their heads together, plotting out songs they both knew. The rest of the afternoon was spent doing slightly-shaky duets, Sasuke filling in gaps to let Hinata’s voice rest.

By the end of the day...they’d made over a hundred dollars.

“Man, this is the way to do it!” Sasuke couldn’t help but whoop. “Here, this is your half...want to go get something to eat?”

“Oh, yes please...I’m s-starving!”

One round of fast food later, they made their way back to Sasuke’s car. “Well...it’s not much, but for now, it’s home.”

“I’d be happy to see it,” Hinata lightly joked. Carefully, she felt her way into the passenger seat. “...well, I suppose I’ve broken my promise to Father about g-getting into a car with strangers.”

Sitting in the driver’s side, Sasuke just snorted.

“So you sleep in here…?”

“Yeah. That’s about the only time I’m in it, honestly. Move it when I have to, but otherwise I’m out and about trying to scrounge up money. Food. A shower. Stuff like that. I’ve managed okay so far.”

“...may I ask...w-why you’re homeless?”

“Lost my parents when I was seven. Was traded around by family, but...weird stuff kept happening. Last straw was my aunt dying in a car accident. Hit by a drunk driver.”

“Oh no…”

“My cousin’s away at college, said I could have his car. Took some finagling to get it in my name, and paying for gas and insurance makes things hard, but...so far, so okay. Shisui - my cousin - says he’ll come back and let me room with him once he finished up school. He’s going for his masters right now. Another year or so and he’ll be back.”

“Wow…”

“...what about you? You said you ran away…?”

Hinata gave a small nod. “...my father has always been strict, but...the older I got, the worse his treatment of me became. He treated my condition as a burden. I wasn’t the p-perfect daughter he wanted. A friend offered to let me stay with her, so I left...but her parents ended up saying I couldn’t stay. I’ve stayed in a shelter most of the time since. But, um...it’s not ideal.”

“Neither is living in a car.”

“No...but I guess n-none of this is easy. Being street people, I mean. I could go back to the shelter, but…” She seemed to dim. “...it can be...unpleasant.”

“...well, my offer still stands. It’s not grand, but it’s something. I bet we can make enough to get by pretty easy, between the two of us. And we wouldn’t be alone.”

Absently, Hinata slowly turned her cane in her grip, thinking. “...all right. I-I’ll stay.”

“Just until my cousin comes back. Then you can bunk with us.”

“B-but -?!”

“The way I see it, we’re friends now,” Sasuke replied airily, clearly ignoring her refusal. “And as your friend, I’ll just have to let you couch surf...once I’ve got a couch. But couches aren’t good for sleeping, so...it’ll just have to be a bed. Then you and I can catch up on studies, get a GED, and then...go from there. Until then, we give the folks a little song and dance for our dinner, huh?”

After a pause, Hinata just giggled softly. “...all right. It’s a deal.”

.oOo.

So this is...very random. While the term 'street people' doesn't HAVE to refer to homeless people, it's the most typical example. I've had friends go through homelessness before, but know very little about it personally, so I didn't want to come off as either glorifying or ignorant. Hopefully I managed that much ^^; Anyway, uh...not sure how to really extrapolate about this one. I likely got a lot wrong, lol - but I tried. I just like the thought of them pairing up and helping each other out, using their talents to scrape by until they can (hopefully) get a second chance. Probably won't continue this one, but it was neat, I guess! But it's late, I'm very tired, and I better get to bed, so I'll leave it there. Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #homelessness //#blindness //#best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

16 notes · View notes

andromeda---galaxy · 6 years

Text

you aren’t like him

Lukas sits in the purple chair and feels his cheeks heat up under Rachel’s last question. He’s been seeing her since they got back from Vegas, though now that Fall classes have started he has to go on Thursdays instead of Tuesdays. He doesn’t know how much it’s helping him—he’s never been the biggest fan of therapy, but she did remind Lukas that they needed to sign up for graduation when they’d completely forgotten to do it. Philip claimed he hadn’t forgotten, but Lukas knows he totally did.

They’re really distracted lately. It’s their goddamn senior year of college and Lukas can hardly believe it. Gabe is still recovering and they try to get to Tivoli as much as possible to check up on him. Philip is starting to deal with the assault case with that fucking asshole and it’s giving Lukas more anxiety than he usually has. They’re trying to figure out when the hell they’re gonna have their wedding, how to deal with all the things they have to plan for. And—they’re still actually married. They’re going to remain actually married. Which both thrills and terrifies Lukas to death because he keeps feeling like he needs to tell people.

“Lukas?” Rachel says.

He zones back in and gets flustered by the question all over again. “Uh,” he says, shifting a little bit. “I mean. Yeah. I do—I worry about protecting him. A lot, uh—all the time.”

“And you think the whole thing with the assault case—it’s drawing the memories of the kidnapping and murders back to the surface?”

Lukas’s heart is beating really fast. They’ve been sorta tip-toeing around this subject for weeks now, and he only told her the whole story last visit. She seemed horrified, almost looked at him like he was making it up until he started crying. He hates doing this shit without Philip, talking about the worst parts of his life, but then again questions like this one come up and he’s happy Philip isn’t here to see him lay out his insecurities. Lukas knows he knows them, that Philip knows every little detail about every inch of his life. But he hates how he sounds when he says it out loud.

“Yeah,” Lukas says, nodding. “It just, uh—reminds me of what I couldn’t do. And it makes me nervous, like—when he, uh—when he took us I was just—fucking paralyzed with fear and then it just—all happened.” He feels a little dizzy and he wonders if Philip is waiting outside for him already. He’ll always remember the moment when Ryan took them. The gun, the threatening, the way he advanced. Lukas had tried to shield Philip but he was too afraid. Too vulnerable. And with the darkness came the guilt. He knew he was leaving him alone. Leaving him alone with the biggest danger in their lives. He couldn’t do enough. He wasn’t strong. He couldn’t save him.

“Remember to throw away all blame,” Rachel says. “There are certain things you can’t control, and dwelling on something that is in the past, already set in stone, only adds to your anxiety. Try to remember that the assault that happened to Philip is not the same as what happened to the two of you, as much as you’re correlating the memories. You said the man—his name was Ryan?”

Lukas swallows hard, nodding. He hates even hearing it, like saying it out loud might conjure him back up again.

“You said you don’t want him to be your boogeyman,” she says. “You need to stop demonizing his name. I see how you tense up when I say it.”

He hates how she knows him, already, some fucking how. He wonders how transparent he fucking is.

“Make it your mantra. Something you remember, that you say in times of difficulty or fear. Ryan is dead. Ryan cannot hurt me. Ryan cannot touch Philip. Ryan is gone.”

Lukas blows out a breath and nods.

“If you say it like that, in times of doubt, it’ll become commonplace. As will his name. As far as this new situation, you seem to be taking it so far as to worry about every moment when you and Philip are apart, is that correct?”

He shifts his lips to the side. “Yeah,” he says.

“As soon as you disengage this situation from your past trauma, it’ll be easier to realize it isn’t something that’s going to be the norm, in any capacity. You said you haven’t encountered much homophobia here, since you started college?”

“Yeah,” Lukas says, in a rush of breath. “Yeah, thank—thank God, this guy has been the only real issue. I was expecting more but I guess that’s…that’s…”

“How you were raised,” she says, sympathetically. “But you can look at that and this—it was a fluke. This man, this—this Dour, he’s gone now too. Not in the same way Ryan is gone, but he’s removed from you, removed from Philip. This situation in no way calls you out as inadequate.”

Lukas chews on his lower lip and traces the lines of Philip’s heartbeat on his wrist.

“Would you think of Philip as inadequate if the situation were reversed? If the assault had happened to you when he was out of town?”

Lukas tenses up again. “No, no. Absolutely not.”

“How is it different?” Rachel asks.

“Because—because it’s like—” His heart is beating a little faster and he feels stupid.

“Do you believe you’re still blaming yourself for how you treated Philip in high school?” Rachel asks. “All these years later? And it’s bleeding over to every situation in which Philip gets hurt?”

Lukas sighs. “Sounds pretty spot on.” The tears are prickling in his eyes now and he looks at his watch. “Yeah, I—yeah, I mean. Yeah.”

“And you said you had that situation where you almost tracked this Dour down,” she says, clinically. “And Philip wasn’t happy about it.”

“Yeah,” Lukas says, feeling dumber and dumber with every passing moment.

“Why do you think you felt the need to track him down?” she asks.

Lukas shakes his head. “I wanted to defend Philip. But Philip, uh—said that it was more about defending my own pride. Territory. Which made me feel gross, but he’s right.”

“Do you think that it’s possible that you see some of your past self in Dour?” Rachel asks, a question that sends ice through his veins. “That you’re so intent to exact revenge because you’re still attempting to make amends for how you behaved towards Philip in high school? And this seemed, subconsciously, like the perfect opportunity?”

It makes him feel fucking ill. He hates Dour. He hates him. “No, like...that guy is an asshole.”

“You’ve called yourself that exact same word when we talk about high school.”

He squirms a little bit. “Yeah, but...”

“It’s interesting that the assault took place in the form of a kiss instead of a punch,” she says. “It could very well be an indicator of the same sort of person. Violently closeted and lashing out.”

“But,” Lukas says, stammering. “But I, I mean...” He scoffs, his ears going hot.

“The guilt still eats you up,” she says.

“Yeah,” he says.

“And you’d do anything to change how you acted,” she says. “Anything to right those wrongs.”

He feels sick. He doesn’t want to be anything like that fucker. And yet when he thinks about it, the sense it makes...he feels fucking sick. He doesn’t want to think about it. He hates everything about it. He hates that it feels right, true, and he can almost feel how he hit Philip in the hallway. How he pushed him away at the party, at the lake. How many times he’d hurt him. Then kiss him.

Fuck.

He briefly looks at Rachel and feels really, really resentful. She seems like she knows.

“Lukas,” she says. “You two are in a very healthy relationship. You’ve grown, you’re getting married, you’re in a completely different space than you were then, in every capacity. You have to forgive yourself. I know without meeting him that Philip has absolutely forgiven you.”

Lukas shakes his head. “He’s like…he’s like, the best. And I just—Jesus, I don’t know. My mind is so messed up when it comes to him because he’s the kind of perfect that makes me feel like nothing is ever gonna be good enough.”

“Right there, that’s where you need to start,” Rachel says, scooting forward in her seat. “He loves you for who you are. He does not see you as inadequate, no matter what’s transpired between you and in your lives, separate and together. You need to learn to love yourself, too.”

“Yeah,” Lukas says, at a loss.

“And when you leave here—Philip is gonna be waiting for you, right?”

“Probably,” Lukas says, nodding.

“So think about it, take a good look at him, and realize that it’s more often than not that he’s safe, even when he isn’t with you. He’s okay when he’s alone. Something bad is something rare.”

He’s always hated therapy. Sometimes the clarity makes him ten times more confused than he was to begin with. He walks down the hallway and types out a message to Philip. He’s more eager to see him than he usually is.

You outside? <3

He barely takes a breath before his phone buzzes in his hand. Just got here :)

Lukas picks up the pace a little bit, turning the corner and heading for the door. He sees him sitting on the bench across the sidewalk—Lukas immediately feels lighter, less tense, the strange vulnerable feeling therapy drapes over him sliding off his shoulders. He wishes nothing would happen to them ever. He wishes they could erase all the Ryan and Dour bullshit like that weird Jim Carrey movie. He wishes he’d stop being so fucking insecure about his own damn self because he knows Rachel is right. Philip does love him.

He can see it in his beautiful face when he lights up. Just like he’s doing right now when he notices Lukas come out of the building.

“Hey,” Philip says, getting to his feet. “How’d it go?”

Lukas shrugs, walking over and meeting him in a kiss. He tugs him into a hug, holds him close and breathes him in. “You know. I hate it,” Lukas says, swaying back and forth a little bit before he pulls back.

Philip’s brows furrow and they start walking leisurely alongside the line of bikes hooked up beside them, Philip taking Lukas’s hand in his own. “Like worse today?”

“I just like—I don’t know, sometimes it feels like therapists are superheroes that can read my mind and it makes me feel weird.” The Dour thing is hanging with him, but he doesn’t want to mention it, at least not yet.

Philip snorts, shaking his head. “Is she making you feel any better about everything?”

Lukas shrugs again. “Yeah, I guess. Sometimes it’s just hard to like, face it all. Think about everything all at once and how it fits together. Our life is fucking weird.”

Philip nods, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But we made it, huh? We’re here.” He leans in and kisses Lukas’s shoulder. “And we’re fucking married,” he whispers, like there might be someone around here to spill their secret, but he just can’t keep himself from mentioning it.

Lukas knows they have to go to court day after tomorrow and face Dour again, but he doesn’t want to bring that up. He knows the case should be pretty fucking open and shut, especially with Helen and Nathan helping him, and the cops that responded to the call. He hopes it’s done by the end of the month, so that’ll be one less thing on their plate. He knows Helen will be getting in tomorrow sometime, but he isn’t sure yet if Gabe has convinced her to let him come with. Lukas hopes he does get to come, if only for the fact that having both of them there will make Philip feel safer.

But he definitely, definitely doesn’t want to talk about that until tonight, when they’re calm and warm and sated in their own bed, Izzy and Samson snoring somewhere nearby. He wants to talk about something else, and then head to the little surprise he has planned for the two of them.

“Speaking of married,” he says, the two of them crossing the street a little slower than the crowd around them. “Our second wedding is on the horizon—”

Philip snorts, leaning into him.

“Are we, uh—still thinking the December after we graduate? That gives us a little over a year to get all ready. Plenty of time.”

“Might be a little hard to get people to come, if you’re talking around Christmastime?” Philip says.

Lukas scoffs. “Well, if they love us, they’ll show up.”

“You’re terrible,” Philip says, laughing. But Lukas knows he’s got him with the aesthetics of that time of year, especially back in Tivoli. December has been something they’ve both sorta known for a while now. “Yeah,” Philip says. “Yeah, that’s—a good time.”

Lukas looks down at him, and even though they’re already married this still feels like a big deal. It’s their real wedding, for all intents and purposes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Philip says. “We can nail down the date later but I have a feeling you’re aiming for a couple days before Christmas.”

Lukas grins. “Guess you can read my mind too,” he says.

Philip shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

“So since we decided on that,” Lukas says, turning onto 30th street, “I planned a little thing for us to do. A little wedding thing.”

“Oh yeah?” Philip asks, and he’s got that tone where the excitement is rising in his voice, which Lukas loves.

“Yeah,” Lukas says, forgetting all the things he’s been worried about so he can enjoy this experience with Philip. “You’re gonna like it.”

They sit in the back room of City Sweets in front of their long lace table, watching as the girls bring them piece of cake after piece of cake after piece of cake. Lukas looks at Philip out of the corner of his eye and feels his heart swell with warmth when he sees the happiness on his face, the smile plastered there. There are beautiful tiered cakes on display to their right and to their left, all around them, and Lukas is like, freaked out by how all of them look like edible pieces of art.

The last girl brings in their tenth piece of cake and smiles at them. “Enjoy!” she says. “Make sure you write down your rankings and then we can see if you want to do any combinations.”

“Awesome,” Lukas says. “We will.”

“Thank you!” Philip says, and the girl nods happily at them, closing the door and leaving them alone. Philip turns to Lukas and beams at him. “This was a great idea, babe.”

“Knew you’d be excited,” Lukas says, almost getting overwhelmed as he looks over their options.

“I don’t know what the hell to try first,” Philip says. “Champagne and three berry? Red velvet and cream cheese? Chocolate stout and passion fruit? I’m gonna die. Let’s just get them all. We have that casino money, we can just use it all on cake.”

Lukas snorts, smiling hard. “Oh,” he says, remembering what he got and shoved in his pocket before therapy. He shifts to the side just as Philip is pulling the milk chocolate and hazelnut ganache towards him, and yanks the ring pop out of his pocket. He holds it out towards Philip. “Happy one month wedding anniversary, angel face.”

“Oh my God,” Philip says, laughing. “I didn’t even realize, with all the shit going on.” He grabs the ring pop out of Lukas’s hand and grins at him, tugging him in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lukas says, kissing him again.

Philip pulls back and runs his thumb back and forth across Lukas’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re going to therapy. But if you hate it you can stop.”

Lukas looks at him and shakes his head. “No, it’s, uh...putting some things into perspective. Maybe it’ll make me a better person.”

“Impossible,” Philip says. “You’re already the best.”

Lukas grins and kisses him again. He’s very much interested in never being separated from Philip again, but maybe if he keeps listening to Rachel he’ll eventually figure out that danger isn’t exactly lurking around every corner anymore. He and Philip are married now. He isn’t like Dour anymore. He’s changed, Philip has helped him change. He needs to accept himself. Love himself.

And Ryan is gone. Ryan can’t hurt them. Ryan won’t ever touch Philip again.

Lukas kisses him one more time. “Eat that ring pop,” he whispers. “Then we gotta choose which cake we’re gonna smash into each other’s faces.”

Philip grins. “Sounds like a very good plan.”

Later on that night when they’re in bed, Lukas clears his throat in the darkness, and feels Philip shift towards him.

“Do you think I was like him?” Lukas asks, voice low.

“Who?” Philip asks.

“Uh—Dour,” Lukas says. “Was, I—uh—like him, in high school?”

Philip is quiet and Lukas can’t see his face and he almost wonders if he fell asleep. “Is that what Rachel said?” Philip asks.

“Sorta, yeah,” Lukas says.

Philip shifts even closer, the comforter bunching up between them. “No, I don’t really—agree with that.”

“She thinks he might be closeted too,” Lukas says, reaching down and smoothing his hand over Philip’s shoulder. “Maybe, like—lashing out, like I was—”

“You were under intense stress,” Philip says, a little louder. “You were being hunted by a fucking murderer. You kissed me because you loved me, not because you were trying to have power over me like he did. He did it to hurt me, to intimidate me. He’s fucking gross and you were never gross. You had intentions, you were scared and trying to find yourself, and even if this guy is gay he’s a fucking dick. He’s purposefully nasty and rude to people and you—you just wanted to be who you were. You needed help.”

Lukas thinks about it, sighing.

Philip cups his face in his hands. “You weren’t like him,” he says, sure. “You weren’t then and you sure as hell aren’t now.”

“You don’t think I wanted revenge on him because I want to right my own wrongs?” Lukas asks.

“Maybe,” Philip says. “Doesn’t mean you’re like him. You could decide to throw our toaster out the window to right your own wrongs because I burned my hand on your toaster that time.”

Lukas laughs, resting his hand on Philip’s waist.

“You aren’t like him, baby,” Philip whispers. “You should tell her that. You have a good heart, you always have. You just needed to find the right path, find your confidence. Find some peace. Coming out and being chased by a lunatic who wants to kill you don’t really work well together.”

“You’re right about that, for sure,” Lukas says.

“You’re good,” Philip says. “You’re a good, good person. Nothing like him.” Whenever he puts emphasis on that, on Lukas’s goodness, it makes his face flood with heat. He can’t believe someone so kind can think of him as good. If Philip thinks it, it must be true. It has to be.

“Okay,” Lukas says. “I believe you.”

Philip leans in, pressing their lips together. And Lukas thanks God that he has him.

#philkas #eyewitness #philip shea #lukas waldenbeck #my writing

53 notes · View notes

sadmovies · 6 years

Text

PRAISE THE ROMANTIC AGONY!!! // edmond (2005), dir. STUART GORDON

Edmond opens with the title character getting a tarot card reading. "You are not where you belong," the fortune teller concludes. This launches a middle-aged crisis. He leaves his wife. He believes the universe owes him more. And what is that something more? A good lay.

I had an inverse experience when I was home back East. I was couch hopping, seeing everyone who I thought I should see, and it was — I remember — a lazy afternoon where we, the friend whose house I was currently staying and myself, were waiting until a lady friend's party later in the evening. We passed time by playing Super Smash Bros. We took a walk outside. My friend explained the beauty of the Kingdoms Hearts franchise. It was then, too, that I had an encounter with his older sister. I had known the sister in passing because of a mutual interest in literature. We both had strong opinions of what made good writing. Both of us, at one point, had been published in our high school's literary magazine. She invited me upstairs so I could she her room and bookshelf. There, she lamented her love for Nabokov. She was a smallish woman that, because of her frame, had developed overbearing breasts and an impressive rump of an ass. In high school, she stepped into sexuality like a dress: all the male actors, it was rumored in the theatre department, had gotten to second base. But she never fell into a victim role. Sex was a statement of authority. It was her power. She refused to ever give up her power. "Troy, PJ, Vincent," she confessed. "All of them I fucked." She had her hand on my thigh at this point. We were sitting criss cross on her carpet while I read aloud passages from Despair.

"Do you want me to tell your fortune?"

It seemed like a good idea.

Lolita (which I'll call her from now on) pulled out a box of tarot card from under her bed. She proceeded to give me a reading. What the actual combination of the cards were I can't remember. But what I do remember is Lolita furiously flipping through her tarot card guide. She dog-eared pages, squinted at them. "You are heading in the correct direction," Lolita said. "Expect great success in your near future." I winced. Good or bad, I don't think anybody really enjoys getting their fortune told. It entertains the same type of pleasure as picking a knee scab or stalking an ex girlfriend's Instagram account: you are so consumed by the anticipation of the thing itself that, when the climax occurs, when the blood gushes down your leg and when the woman who you shared your most intimate moment with, in bed, one winter, both naked, where you confessed to her that insecurity, the insecurity to end all insecurities, and you felt, briefly, weightless, unburdened by existence, when you see this same woman, scantily clad, getting her assed grabbed by a Beef Wellington of a man (the iPhone flash lighting his eyes!), you feel a sadness so immeasurable and rooted to your being that you think that *this* must be what all the dead poets, heartbroken, wrote verses about with ink and quill, late into the evening, while Solider Big Dick fucked their muse next door. I didn't like getting my fortune told because it's always a letdown. Nothing is ever enough. And if it is, I am able to analyze it until it becomes sad. Lolita's fortune, that success was ahead, only meant that I was going to worry about success being ahead. How would I self sabotage?

"Did you tell him about that one time?" Lolita said. This is the question I knew would be asked. It hung over our conversation. She was referring to a night of my life where, after having being dumped by my second girlfriend, I had recklessly texted Lolita asking for nudes. I wanted to feel like a man again. I was consumed with the romantic agony of a high school heartbreak. I told Lolita explicit details of what I would do to her. She told me details of what she would do to me. In the end, she agreed to a dimly lit photo of her bare cleavage. The next year, however, Lolita graduated and I had befriended her brother. A question of morals arose. Do I say what happened? Did I have an obligation to? And if I did, who would want to be told that about their sister? I chose silence.

"No," I said.

Lolita smiled. She edged herself closer to me. "That's probably for the better," she said. "I think he'd be weird about it." I nodded. Lolita began to talk about Lena Dunham and young adult fiction. I looked to the window. Outside, I saw the beginning of fall. The trees glowed with a green that I have only ever seen at home. There is an overwhelming age to the East Coast that I am not sure is readily apparent to the natives. I moved West after high school and so make infrequent trips back whenever I can. Each time I do my perspective becomes more nuanced. I noticed first the hand-me-down quality which Virginia possesses, a place seemingly burdened by history in the sense that—

Lolita placed her hand on my belt buckle.

"What are you doing?"

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"Um," I said. "The trees."

"The trees?"

"You don't see trees like those. You don't see them in, um..."

"Is this a callback to an earlier review?"

"If you want it to be."

Lolita frowned. She looked up to my face. She had the eyes of a woman making a quietly desperate plea, a plea disguised as playful seduction. The eyes said, "I am going through a tough time." They said, "My boyfriend recently broke up with me, all seems lost, and you, the Film Slob, the boy who I knew in passing in high school, are looking pretty good right now. Let's have sex. Let's have sex so that I for a second can forget the burden of being. Okay?" I stood up from where we were sitting on the carpet. I did not have a lot of experience with making moral decisions. The most I've gotten out of morality has been in retrospect. There is always a promise to be more self aware: one part of myself commending another part of myself for catching my shadow self in the act. A Self-Congratulatory Process. But then the day to do better never comes. I'm stuck in hypothetical limbo. In front of me, though, Lolita had on her clothes of late summer. She wore jean shorts and a tight fitting long sleeve. She was an uncomplicated beauty, one that did not ask questions nor seek commitment. I could take Lolita and carry her over to her twin size bed. We could undress quickly before engaging in a breed of sex which I did not then know. We could kiss just for the sake of kissing. We could rub our bodies together just because it felt good. We could do all this while her brother played Nintendo Wii downstairs. I was Edmond but not Edmond. I had gotten the very thing he sought, a woman, but in a different context. In the film, Edmond seeks to get laid. However, to do so, he puts himself in a weak position. He lowers himself to women. He plays a game that is only played while, across from you, your opponent thumbs at the rulebook You're in the dark. You're vulnerable. Who were these women? Who did they think they were?

I stepped out into the hallway.

The first time I heard of Edmond it was through the stage play of the same name by David Mamet. I read it in my dorm while my roommate snored from his half of the room. There was this feeling of secret knowledge and taboo; Mamet, with the play, was articulating something which I saw lurking beneath my own life. It had to do with sexual frustration. It had to with being a male, a white male: the privilege my skin color afforded me so informed my existence that it was like eating candy every meal. I was malnourished. Pleasure cannot be without pain. And if is, pleasure is no longer pleasure. All the years spent — as DeLillo describes — in my toothpaste suburb gave me more comfort that I knew what to do with. Happiness was so abundant that it made everyone sick. We needed to be punished. We wanted to avoid the guilt, or maybe to tap into our common humanity. We came up with illness, challenges to overcome: I remember being fed fifty milligrams of Adderall for getting a C in Algebra. The doctor said, "You have Attention Deficit." My mom, in the chair next to mine, nodded intuitively. I remember, high on amphetamines, chatting movies in gym class with anybody who was polite enough to listen. I was fifteen. "Lynch," I said. "His work is what I would call a mixture between a nightmare and the banality of Norman Rockwell's paintings." I pulled lines directly from David Foster Wallace's interview with Charlie Rose. (I needed to be shoved in a locker. Why didn't anybody shove me in a locker? Probably because they were too small. Biggest revelation: to be assigned a locker in the ninth grade only for the width to not be large enough to fit my head, much less body.) By the time I got to college, I had avoided danger for so long that I was shell shocked. I had been plucked from the bubble of my milieu. In a moment of crisis, I took a nighttime walk around campus. The area surrounding the university was notoriously known for violence and crime; the poverty could be seen in the cracks in the sidewalk, the houses across the street. They were so chewed up and sad; I almost didn't mind that the residences sought to mug their student neighbors. To have to watch each incoming class, year after year. To see them graduate with degrees. But nothing has changed. You still live in squalor, in shit. "Kill me!" I sobbed. This was the purpose of the nighttime walk. I was aware of my position as prey. I wanted a switchblade to the gut but only after putting up a fight. I would not give up my phone and wallet immediately. I would wrap my fingers tight around my killer's neck. I wanted to get at least a couple punches in the eye sockets and nose. Whether or not the act of doing so would help me escape wasn't the point. The point was that I could, for a moment, transcend the reality of my upbringing, of the neurotic guilt which served as an aftertaste for experience. And if I ended up bloodied, on the concrete, gasping for my last breath, I would have been redeemed.

The title character in Edmond goes through something similar: a life of white collars and privilege is great in theory but it deprives us of something much larger. A man must be a man. He must go out into the world and hunt. He must tap into some instinct. Edmond (William H. Macy) knows this not consciously but the audience can see it through his actions. He leaves his wife (Rebecca Pidgeon) under the influence of a tarot card reading. He wants to start a new, dangerous life in the city. The truth is, this anxiety had been bubbling up for a long time. It just needed to find an excuse to express itself. We see the giddiness in his body language when he bets on a card in Three-card Monte. We see his eyes lick, up and down, the bodies of the strippers he lacks the authority to fuck. The connective tissue in these examples is that Edmond is attempting to transcend. The MacGuffin of the story, of him trying to get laid, is really the pursuit of ultimate transcendence: every time we ejaculate — it is my theory — that we are stepping a little bit outside of the physical realm. The pleasure can be so intense that it becomes something else entirely. It is not the same nauseating abundance of pleasure that was found in my toothpaste suburb. Rather, it is like a compacted, silver bullet which explodes inside your being. Your consciousness is shifted, and this is what I assume Death is like. An orgasm that extends into eternity, something that which — when it happens — makes the most sense in the world and is as simple as flipping on a light switch. There's no drama: it only is. Death cannot exist without Life in the same way that pleasure cannot exist without pain. This is because both are polar extremes of the same thing; they inform the other's purpose. One has to acknowledge this if he wishes to understand his world. Primitive man, I think, learned this lesson when they starved in the winter and killed for their meat in springtime. Edmond is a child who craves a caveman's contentment. However, he has been sucking at the generous tit of modernity for too long. And when he builds up the nerve to rebel, to state dominance, the crippling effects of his prolonged adolescence catches up with him. All those years spent without hardship leaves him a perpetual victim. The strippers con him for his cash; the Three-card Monte dealers mug him when he questions their credibility; and, in the film's climax, he is raped in prison by his cellmate and made a bitch. He is properly emasculated by the city folk who, in their environment, carry a nugget of the teachings of the primitive times: survival of the fittest, transcendence through nature, and the arbitrary distinction between Life and Death. I was driving downtown one time with Plebeian, a buddy of mine. We were staking out the city for hot wings. As we drove, we saw a man walking out into the middle of the street. Cars raced passed him, blaring their horns. The man did not react, though. He kept a peaceful pace and completed his walk through traffic. "I'd like to have his confidence," I said. We passed the man, and I saw a brief glimpse of his clothing. He wore a grey sweatshirt and pants that were covered in dirt. "You wanna get that confident?" Plebeian said. "Try crack." We both laughed. I did not think of the man again until later. I was in the bed of Frida Kahlo, and my lips still burned from the buffalo sauce. Plebeian and I had gotten the spiciest wings on the menu because of an unspoken promise between the two of us to live life in a way such that each night was an interesting story to tell. Tonight's story was about the sharp smell of our order, the milk we downed to heal our throats. I thought about the man and his behavior. Was he aware of something that I wasn't? The first reaction is accusations of craziness, of drug addiction. But to suggest those things, it meant that I was in a position of authority. An authority to judge. Who was to say that his perspective was anymore more valid than mine? There might have been something deeply troubling about life he discovered which made walking out into the middle of the street not only sane but strangely moral. It was important to realize there is no objective truth, because then — if I didn't — I was no better than Edmond. Edmond, who lived in a cloistered world and made the mistake of confusing it for reality. He moves to the city where he gets snugly placed in the hierarchy of man.

Lolita's fortune of great success never came. If it did, it was too abstract to notice. Maybe, I thought, the fortune meant that I needed to the find success myself. That, maybe, it surrounded me already in my own life. I was burdened by the Western belief that never was ever enough. Contentment was weakness. The fortune was trying to argue against this belief. I had my head head in the sand ("look at the beauty around you!"), and maybe the great success was the discovery of this - the wisdom it brings.

Or maybe tarot card readings are bullshit.

Everything is bullshit. I think this while Frida Kahlo tells me about my astrological sign. "Pisces are the most sensitive type," she says. She is without pants, vaping. We're in her bed after a failed attempt at sex. "I'm gonna break your heart," and she means this. I know because it's one of the few times she looks up from her phone. "As I've told you, I'm an Aquarius...," but by then I'm not listening. I'm staring at her blossoming unibrow. I could only ever call her Frida Kahlo because Frida Kahlo was the only frame of reference. She wore that night, I remember, a black turtleneck which only women with a pouty enough expression on their faces can pull off. She reminded me of Anna Karina but Mexican and a body which was many things but not modest. She was beautiful. She was so beautiful that it made me want to scream out into the void. I wanted her to hurt me. I wanted her to blow vape smoke in my face and tell me I wasn't shit. I wanted not her love but a condescending side glance, the one that ruins egos: I wanted to be ruined, not loved. Love was the stuff of my mother's gooey cheek kisses and after school specials. It did not have what I craved. I needed agony the same way people needed salt on their food. "Pisces sometimes fetishize suffering," Frida Kahlo says. And maybe she's right. When I think of pain I think of a feeling deep down in my stomach. It is an excruciating nausea. It tells me I am alive, here, in the present moment. It tells me I am madly in love. I say, "What are you talking about?" I say, deviously, "I haven't been paying attention for the past several minutes." This is the game we play. It is a game where we inflict various emotional wounds while the other tries to keep a poker face. I see, in this case, a twinge of sadness appearing in her eyes before — poof — it's gone just as quick. A coldness returns. She looks at me again.

Frida Kahlo says, "We're not suited for each other."

A knife.

She says, "I don't think this is gonna work."

A knife into my abdomen.

She says, "I have an ex-boyfriend who I'm still not over. He moved to Sweden but then he came back. And, um."

A knife into my abdomen, reaching up to the part of my heart that still values...

She says, "I don't know. It's just not where I'm at."

...that still values a date night, movie and dinner, and it's cold because it's always cold in my memory and...

She says, "Film Slob?"

...maybe, as you're walking back to your car in the parking lot, after the film, you—shit! shit! shit!—you lean in close and wrap your arm around her, your date, and she nozzles up into your shoulder for warmth and...

She says, "I'm sorry. I've just been so..."

...you feel like you could die right there, just die, because it is in those moments (January in Virginia, Inarritu's's Birdman) where the most beauty is found—

She says, "...depressed. I've been depressed."

But it never lasts, the beauty. The beauty turns blue before it curls up into fetal position, dead. You carry the beauty from under the porch. You bury it in the backyard. You don't know how to cope. You consider writing something Important. You consider spending weeks on end alone. Don't shower. Don't shave. After all, you don't have to look after beauty anymore. Your only goal should be writing a novel, an Important novel, a novel that critics will call "genius" and will make any women with Woody Allen frames and a Tumblr url drop their wet panties. But the novel never gets written. It never gets started. You should spend the last several weeks of summer driving around aimlessly at night. You eat at Five Guys. You break the peanuts. One night, after sobbing, you text a woman notoriously known in theatre department as being easy. You ask for a photo of her breasts. You masturbate into an old pair of boxer shorts.

Frida Kahlo says, "Are you crying?"

Move on. Forget it. Develop a love for the masochistic. Finish senior year of high school. Move for college. Try to forget it some more. Pick at masochism like a scab. Know that the pain you fetishize is because of beauty, buried in the backyard. The hole you had to shovel. The dirt you had to throw onto its corpse. Know that it left a huge impression, not easily erased. Be okay with this. Don't be okay with this. Decide to be okay with this.

She says, "Why are you crying?"

Match with Frida Kahlo on Tinder. Meet up in a coffee shop. Talk about Quentin Tarantino, jazz. For a second date, take her back to your dorm. Show her music you like. Get a blowjob.

She says, "Film Slob."

Frida Kahlo jumps on top of me. She begins wiping the tears flowing down my cheeks. I don't do anything. I suck the snot back into my nose. Frida Kahlo gives me a look that is probably of genuine concern but which I have the bad habit of confusing with pity. I grab her waist. I flip her over. I wanted to feel like a man again. My right hand grabs her ass while my left thumbs her nipple. I kiss her neck. Frida Kahlo wraps her legs around me. She rubs my back, unaroused.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Then why were you—"

"I wasn't."

She pushes me off. I go under the blanket, wrap myself in the sheets. I stare at the wall. Praise the romantic agony! I think of Edmond. Emond, with a knife, slicing up a waitress (Julia Stills) that he goes home with. "I had too much coffee," he explains to his ex-wife. This is over a prison phone. Of course, he gets punished for his actions. Of course, he is raped in prison and made a bitch. Where was the true motive, though? The motive, I mean, for the murder of the young waitress. I remember seeing the film after my atoms had been rearranged by reading the play. I remember not much difference in terms of experience except for the killing scene. There was the high pitched squeals of Julia Stills (why don't I see here more often?) as William H. Macy plays up an Edmond that has finally rediscovered his male vitality. "I have a warrior blood, too," he claims to the waitress. In two scenes before, Edmond is lured into a dark alleyway by a pimp. The pimp puts a switchblade to his throat. But Edmond's knife is bigger. He whips it out at an opportune time and begins to slash at his mugger. The pimp screams, begs for mercy. Edmond doesn't offer any. He continually kicks at his gut while calling him a racial slur. With each kick, there is something being communicated. With each kick, Edmond is reminding himself of the power which was within him the whole time. "Don't fuck with me, coon," he says. All seems well. He has the confidence of a man that has just been baptized, given a purpose. He takes this new found conviction and uses it to seduce a bar waitress. The questions remains: Why? Why, when things seem to be looking up, does Edmond decide to murder? I have a theory. It comes to me when I am staring at the wall, avoiding the worried gaze of Frida Kahlo.

"I didn't think it was a big deal."

Edmond, his whole life, has been placed in various hierarchies. This is not a surprise, as most humans are. However, one reaches a breaking point. A man is consumed with the anxiety of judgement. He feels he is not all he could be. He does not exercise that masculine part of his brain enough. His life is mostly ice cream socials and the blue glow of his work computer's screen. Where has the danger gone? It has been replaced by a dreary commute. It has been replaced by two and a half cups of coffee a day. It has been replaced by a wife who, deep down, he knows he does not satisfy sexually. Where, oh where, does he get a break? He grows resentful. He grows bitter enough where he leaves his wife because of, seemingly, no reason. He goes to the city. Nobody will judge him there. Not the street bums. Not the Three-card Monte shufflers. And especially not any of the women. Women are toys, he thinks. He is not interested in actually having sex but masturbating with their bodies. How can you have sex when you don't view the other as an individual? Edmond does not respect women but uses them as a value system. That's the irony, right there. It eats him alive. And so, when he does finally get validated (laid), what does he do? He kills the waitress. In a way, he think he has killed the ugliness which exists deep in his heart: this need for affection, for a female's approval. Hear my roar. I will never be compromised again! Oh, Lolita! I missed my Lolita. To selflessly give herself to me, that one afternoon. To text a photo of her breasts. Was there a woman more selfless? To allow me the gift of choice.

"We've only known each other for three weeks."

Silence.

"Please just talk to me."

It stretches out into eternity.

1 note · View note

calangkoh · 7 years

Text

alphonse elric post-cos headcanons

based on my “teenage alphonse elric would be an absolute nightmare” post except it’s not as funny anymore now it’s just sad

al actually does have a lot of angst going on so let’s talk about that before we talk about how it manifests in his teenage behaviors: first off, general ptsd. now that his memories are back and he has a body and like, a brain to torment him, he’s gonna be having nightmares and flashbacks and anxiety and paranoia and days/moments where he’s feeling so overwhelmed where all he can do is sit in terrified silence. his survivors guilt from the end of the series returns and then multiplies, because he shouldve died but ed brought him back and now he and his brother are together and somewhat happy and it doesn’t seem fair. he also was the cause of the destruction in central, which definitely killed a buncha people. he has so so so much survivors guilt and has a hard time appreciating anything because it always comes with guilt. hes also resentful to ed for making his sacrifice at the end of the series mean nothing. like ed couldve had his limbs back and be happy in amestris but no ed had to play sacrificial ping pong and bring al back and make things ten times more complicated and make al have to live with all the guilt he feels

again before we get into what a nightmare al is i wanna talk about what an angel he is first (because to me it makes sense to talk about the good first and let you leave with the bad lmao). and it has to do with ed’s struggles. al knows his brother and knows how to calm him and take care of him and knows his patterns. at first al is frustrated with himself because ed has changed a bit and he has to readapt to this. at first he feels like he doesnt know his brother anymore, but he catches on pretty fast. Al is an angel because he still takes great care of ed, and knows how to tend to his needs. He can tell when ed is having a bad day, when he’s on the verge of a panic attack, when he’s anxious, and just in general knows all his ptsd markers and how to care for them. als teenage behaviors are also his way of defending ed from how messed up he is. he doesnt want ed to know hes struggling because he knows ed will blame himself. honestly as codependent as the elric brothers are, they have poor communication because they always want ot protect the other, but it never works because they know each other too well and can see right through each other. but they never talk about it. They just act on it. both of them are the most self-blaming people on the planet and it just snowballs because they’re aware the other is self-blaming, which they self-blame for, etc etc etc.

now onto teenage behaviors. so all this angst is what’s motivating it. and obviously, he misses home, too. and hes thrown into this totally different world and he doesnt know what to do with himself. i mean, ed has a resume now from working with alfons’s team, but he’s not gonna keep working for nazis so he’s gonna go get a research career at a university and be successful and probably even be a professor (this idea makes me extremely happy tbh). meanwhile al is like wth do i do with my life? some more relatable teen angst of “what is my purpose in this sucky world.” ed tries to include al in his work but al just is too distracted and depressed to be interested.

so what does al do? he snaps at ed a lot. Post cos ed has learned sensitivity and warmth (like in cos i really got that sense from him that he learned more social skill and grace) and he literally big brothers al all. the. time. and it comes from him caring for al’s mental health (like he knows what al is going through to a tee but he just doesnt know how to communicate verbally with him about it). he’ll bring work home with him and try and get al in on it and al will snap at ed ti leave him alone. ed will offer to take al to work and al will get pissed because why cant he just mind his own business and stop treating him like a kid? ed will offer to do things with al, he’ll do little things to try and make al happy and damn al is terrifying. i mean i have a personal story here: my older sister smothers me a lot and senior year of high school (she was living at home after graduating college) and im sitting in my room and she comes in without knocking, and in the sweetest voice is like “look at this shirt i had that you can wear to school!” and in the most demonic voice possible i just say “get out of my room” and she justs squeaks out “okay” and leaves looking terrified. Like THAT is ed and al. Ed will do something totally unexpectedly thoughtful to try and help al and al will just be a total shit leaving ed with nothing to do but run away for his life because nothing is scarier than a moody, teenage alphonse elric.

So yeah at first al just stays at home alone, wondering, “high school? or factory job?” And just isolating himself from the scary outside world that he doesnt recognize.

When ed takes him out al is so quiet. Ed talks pretty excitedly about his day, trying everything to help his brother out (because god he was just as miserable when he came to this world and the only reason ed is genuinely doing well now and is actually pretty happy despite his mental illnesses is because al is with him now. And ed just wants to freaking save al from this pain but it just...isnt working. he knows its not that he isnt enough; he knows al would rather be with ed here than in amestris without him but god he still cant help how muh self loathing he feels that he cant help his brother like hes able to help him) and al just zones out and plays with his food or sips his tea or looks at the sidewalk. its not that he doesnt care about his brothers day or that he resents him for being happy, its that he just does not have the energy to be present. and then that is snowballing because he feels like a sucky brother and then he feels like hes self-pitying too much and then its just this endless cycle

So al goes to high school because ed thinks the mental stimulation and learning about this worlds culture and science would be better than throwing him into a factory job. thing is, people who stayed in school past 14 in this time period tended to have money. And while ed makes money, he only makes enough to put al in high school and then provide the bare minimum after. and al cares about his appearance and about what others think about him. its just his personality. and even though hes a brilliant kid who picks up on what hes learning really quick, he still doesnt know much about this world and its current events and honestly amestris is so much more modern so al is confused about certain restrictions and stuff like that. so in school al is this poor, socially awkward, but super-good-at-school teachers pet and dude he is so so bullied and has no friends. remember he also has the mind of a 17-18 year old and so definitely appears to be an old soul among his actual 13-14 year old peers. so hes extremely outcasted. but now he also has a temper and he gets into fist fights.

now you’d think al would pummel these kids, right? Well no. you see when al gets into these fist fights, it kinda triggers memories of being in the armor and he becomes clumsy and out of touch with his body and sometimes forgets how to even move. some fights are better than others and the bullies are pretty shocked this kid has any skill at all, but al never wins against this entire group of kids

so yeah al comes home beat up and ed gets majorly pissed but now that theyre in this…normal life, having your big brother come into the rescue is not awesome. And ed doesnt get that because, well, when your bro is being beat up isnt the right thing to do to beat up the guy thats putting his life in danger? like these are eds survival/protective instincts from years of adventure and danger, so al telling him not to do anything is like...what? he doesnt understand. and al is getting super defensive about the whole thing. “Its none of your business” “leave me alone you’re not in charge of me” etc etc. and in a rational moment, al calmly explains that ed doing anything about it will make it worse. and now ed feels even more helpless and we all know that that is the worst thing ed can feel

and al is just such a nightmare now because hes getting in physical fights and sneaking out and losing his temper and snapping at people and being grumpy and rude. i can write a whole other list of headcanons for alter wrath both exacerbating his behavior but also helping his mental health (like him being friends with alter wrath/rudi as the fandom has named him really makes a “things get worse before getting better” situation

#calangkoh #meta #headcanon #alphonse elric #fma #fma 03 #fma 2003 #cos #conqueror of shamballa #fullmetal alchemist #edward elric #i tried writing

204 notes · View notes

liesandlibations · 4 years

Text

Fear and Loathing in Los Santos

*tape recorder clicks on*

"It was never easy for me. I was born a poor black child..."

Laughter, cough, cough, spit. Cursing.

No, no, goddammit. That is the intro to Steve Martin's "The Jerk" you asshole, what the fuck are you doing man? Don't come at these people with this kind of weirdness right out of the gate, Jesus Christ. Fuck. Start over.

*tape recorder clicks off*

*tape recorder clicks on, high-pitch rewind squeal*

"Okay, okay, I've got it now, okay. Second take."

Deep breath.

"Tonight on assholes interviewing themselves in the mirror, some fat douchebag failed writer turned clichéd alcoholic talks about himself for hours."

Laughter.

"Fuck. Okay, okay, everything is fine. It's fine. Just get into it already."

So, hey, about me. Uh. I'm a Leo, an INTJ, a Fire Rooster, I've got an IQ that is just shy of about one-sixty depending on how fucked up I am when I take the test, and my favorite color is, believe it or not, Seafoam Green. Not that any of that matters, of course. Is it cool if I have another drink? Thanks. Yes, I realize that was a frightening amount of alcohol but you want to talk about my past, right? That's what it takes then, and here it is.

I was born to an unwed drug-addicted teenage mother in the bad part of the South in about 1980. Before she gave me up, though, she scribbled my name on the birth certificate.

"Memphis."

No idea what she meant by that. Was I conceived there, was she from there? Dunno, to this day the answer eludes me but whatever, the name stuck. I was put up for adoption immediately and really I can't blame her, shit, who could? Stuffed into the state orphanage system as an infant and shuffled around from place to place for a while. Never really stuck anywhere for long, as I was riddled with physical illness and undiagnosed mental problems and generally considered too difficult. One family, according to the records which I unearthed years later, reported me as "possibly demon-possessed" at the tender age of three. Life in the Southern Baptist South, right? Whatever. I bounced from foster home to foster home until I finally just ran from the whole system at about the age of fourteen. Spent some time on the streets and a lot of time on other people's couches. I was too smart for my own good by then, angry at everything, hated the world, and in the very beginnings of a life of mental and emotional issues.

That was when I met the Professor.

I'd made it to Memphis, Tennessee. City of my namesake. The home of Elvis, the Blues, the birthplace of Rock and Roll, and the final stop for Dr. Martin Luther King. A place almost as fucked up as I was at the time. I was broke and homeless when I stumbled into a coffee shop somewhere in the art district, hungry and hoping for a handout.

I saw him for the first time, sitting in the back at a table with a chess board full of pieces laid upon it, wisps of grey hair catching sunlight through the dirty windows, staring at me over thick-rimmed black glasses. He introduced himself, "My name's Robert, but everyone just calls me the Professor," he said. Bought me a sandwich and a cup of java. He had a kind voice and an easy demeanor, was keen to know where I was from and where I was going. I, of course, young and impressionable, consumed both the sandwich and the attention with equal gusto. We talked through the day and into the night, and when he found out I was homeless he offered me a place to crash for a while. We walked down the worn sidewalks of the Midtown neighborhood past homes gently lit from within, on a warm evening, and it felt like things were going to be okay.

When we got back to his house, I was introduced for the first time to methamphetamine and sodomy, both with a startling swiftness.

I stayed with him for three years.

I hated it but what else could I do? No hope, no friends, no prospects. The meth almost made it worth it, but not really. It's an old story but at least I had a place to sleep and regular food, and I think he did care about me in his own fucked up way. His house was full of books, floor to ceiling, and I devoured every word I could get my hands on. All the greats, man: Keats, Hemingway, Bukowski, Thoreau, Kerouac, and finally the king, Hunter S. Thompson. I even started writing a bit, here and there, which the Professor was super critical of, naturally. But I found an outlet in some of the anarchist 'zines from the coffee shop and for the first time I got to experience that totally orgasmic feel that a writer has when he sees his words in black and white print. Seemed some other folks liked those words too, so I struck up a friendship with the local punks and anarchs, which he did not approve of either. Yeah.

Eventually this led to me taking a bunch of his shit and moving out of his place in the middle of the night, into a communal house owned by a punk band who liked my writings. He showed up pounding on the door and demanding to see me, saying he'd ruin me, turn me in to the cops, out me as some kind of whore, the whole nine yards worth of emotional manipulation, sure. But I'd begun to emulate my heroes of the Word by then, so I opened the door and pressed both barrels of a sawed-off twelve-gauge shotgun to his head and told him that if he ever tried to talk to me again I would turn his skull into a fucking canoe.

When I clicked the hammer back, he got the point, and that was the end of that chapter, yes."

Shit. Okay. Need another drink after that. Yes. That's better, it burns going down, right? Where were we?

"So anyway, I started writing in earnest. Throwing words at paper as if my life depended on it, and maybe it did. I had a pretty serious meth problem by that time and the Words helped to keep the wolf from the door. Luckily the anarchists I'd fallen in with were all straight edge, which I have to admit was annoying as fuck but honestly had it not been for them I might not have made it. They were good kids, at the end of the day, and I am forever grateful for their support. This ragtag group of weirdoes with Mohawks and piercings was probably the best family I'd ever had. Good times in the commune, too, writing and reading, crazy concerts every weekend, just thrashing and bashing and letting the anger out. I even had a girlfriend, for a time, and she, being much better organized than myself, managed to get me to a GED and then enrolled at a local college in some writing courses, specifically Journalism. The girlfriend didn't last, of course, I was still pretty much a mess as a human, but the journalism thing stuck with me and I actually accidentally graduated with honors and a metric fuckton of student loan debt. I was writing more and better than ever before and it was glorious, but I needed credit within the industry, and this led to the next, unfortunately darker chapter.

Jesus Cinnamon-Titties Christ, I need another drink.

*tape recorder clicks off*

*tape recorder clicks on*

"HEY THERE BOYS AND GIRLS IT'S TIME FOR WHIPPY THE SQUIRREL!"

Goddammit. I still hate that voice. It's sort of what you would get if you let the Chipmunks smoke crack and then stuffed them in a blender.

Sometimes we do things we regret when we are young, I guess. I was in my early twenties when I snagged my first legal job, a bullshit internship at a local TV Station. Jesus. I showed up all bright-eyed for my four in the AM shift and was handed a threadbare squirrel costume, complete with giant horrifying cartoon head. It reeked of booze and ass. "Morning kids show mascot," they said, "Whippy the Squirrel, beloved icon of local marketable children everywhere," they said, "Learn how to do the voice or you're fired." they said, and that last bit was the important bit. So I spent three hours in a cramped video closet watching reruns of the previous holder of the title, trying to get it right.

Twenty years that poor bastard was the furred whipping boy for this station, and over the time lapse of the video tapes you could see his spirit wither away, slowly crushed by the awful mundanity of his chosen occupation. I found out later he'd showed up to work one morning, taken a little break to go to the dressing room, put the barrel of a .357 revolver in his mouth, and fucking BLAMMO. Cut to "Technical Difficulties" slate, call the cleaning crew, so it goes.

But I really needed the job and the industry credit, so I lit a joint, got really fucking high, nailed the voice, and became the ultimate personification of local televised capitalism and commercial broadcasting. It wasn't really hard. Put on the giant stinking head, trot out in front of a bunch of bored children, try to get them excited about the next magician, clown, or Hannah-Barbara cartoon rerun. It didn't take long for me to fall into the bad habits again, smoking out and drinking heavily every shift just to get through it.

The morning anchor's name was Jane Childes. A forty-something former beauty queen she was, with an older doctor husband, a very expensive set of fake breasts, and a predilection for cocaine. Before the news she would spend thirty minutes on her hair alone and then spend commercials doing bumps off the news desk. During the break between Sunrise News and Morning News, she'd do, well...

Me.

You ever hoover coke off a magnificent pair of middle-aged titties and have hot, sweaty, furry, squirrel sex in a video closet? And then have to go in front of thirty children and their parents and introduce a bunch of goddamned bullshit while reeking of pussy and weed? Of course not, and it went downhill really quickly.

This whole horrible debacle led to a breakdown on television and a general brawl that got me fired. You wouldn't think eight-year-olds could throw down like that, but those little bastards will swarm you. They will climb right up your furry legs and punch you in the balls with all the skill and anger a disgruntled Taekwondo yellow-belt can muster.

I was, of course, quickly and obviously fired. Barely avoided charges on that one, but luckily Mr. and Mrs. Childes were eager to stay away from any sort of public scandal and paid to have the whole thing hushed up. I suppose you could say that was my first introduction to real Old Southern Politics, where everything was about who you knew and how many people were related to you and little else in the way of reason. So it went.

I got a letter in the mail from the Liberty City Courier the very next day, the third most popular newspaper in a crime-ridden city the majority of people hadn't heard of outside of the late night news. Seems they loved my work and wanted to make me an offer. So I sold all of my shit and bought a bus ticket.

"Time for the big time," I thought.

Goddamn, I was naive.

Let's have another drink, shall we? I'm not drunk, you're drunk, shut up. I'm telling this story, you goddamned reflection. Why don't you lose some weight, too? Fat bitch, I hate you. No, no, I didn't mean that. Finish the story and we can both go to bed.

Okay, bottoms up and here we go.

Oh fuck, oh fuck I have the hiccups, shit. OMG I HATE FUCKING HICCUPS. Okay, okay, wait... I'm good. Whew.

Liberty City in the early 'ought's, right?

Fuck.

I would call it a den of sin and iniquity but that wouldn't do it justice. I rolled into the Greyhound station ragged and jittery, too many days off the drugs and hard up for the next thing to prove myself. I grabbed my bag, walked outside, and saw a car fly through the air. It flipped upside down, murdered two pedestrians, hit a traffic light, righted itself, and sailed off into the night with about a hundred cop cars, lights a-flashing, trailing behind. Nobody called an ambulance for the poor smashed unfortunates, either, they just laid there as my taxi pulled up to take me to the low-rent apartments that the paper was paying for.

I was, at the time, unprepared for that kind of mental clusterfuck and had a bit of a breakdown in the car. My cabbie, who I think was some kind of Russian from his accent, laughed.

"Welcome to Liberty City, my friend," he said, as he wove in and out of traffic at a terrifying pace. I got to the apartment, locked the locks with a trembling hand, and called in to the paper. They wanted me to report at six in the AM. Fortunately I'd had my new cabbie friend stop off at a local liquor store and the fifth of Jack Daniels I'd procured got me through that night.

It wasn't easy, but nothing was easy.

Except maybe dying, in Liberty City.

I started at the Courier the next day. Covering the crime beat and believe me I made waves right out the door, just by having the audacity to actually talk to the criminals and ask them for their viewpoint. Up until me, I guess the Liberty City Courier was most pro-police-law-and-order and then here I come with my anarchist bullshit, the fucking audacious idea that we examine the society that had led to criminals, consider them as people instead of the usual big bad villains. Having the sheer gall to suggest that the cops might be the bad guys too. The old dogs in the bullpen hated me and I don't blame them. Some dumbass kid from the South with a weird haircut and the wrong clothes rolling up in their turf questioning the very fabric of the very normal kind of journalism they practiced? Very much an asshole, no doubt.

But when I broke that story about corruption in the LCPD, and it went national, no one could deny me.

The public, oh the ignorant and so easily distracted public, they ate it up. Bear in mind this was the late nineties, right? Anti-heroes were in full effect and my kind of crude yet poetic narrative was having its day. Sure. I got invited to the best parties by criminals and celebrities, vast displays of decadence on yachts and in underground clubs everywhere. I was a hot ticket, for a minute. I even managed to get a new girlfriend, yeah, a lovely, uh, a perfect, a...

A goddamned angel, and no mistake.

Shut up, shut up. It's okay. Moving on.

Anyhow. I got in pretty good with some local heavies. Not as difficult as you would think, nobody loves to talk about themselves more than criminals. What's the point of being smarter and harder than anyone if you can't somehow tell everyone that you are? All I had to do was listen and write the words I heard, at the end of the day. Sure, a little embellishment, maybe a punch-up here and there. Change the names to protect the innocent (not that anyone was, of course), and then BLAM you have a newspaper article, then a column, and then a book, and then it all kind of went wrong in the worst way.

Shit. Okay, wait. I just need another drink. It's okay, just, ahem, it's okay.

*tape recorder clicks off*

*tape recorder clicks on*

Heavy sigh.

Okay, let's get into it.

I published my collected articles with a major publishing house and we titled it, "Fear and Loathing in Liberty City."

It went to the top three on the NYT Top Ten Publishing list immediately and stood there proudly for two weeks.

Nobody remembers that now, of course, and there is no reason they should. I wish it hadn't gone as far as it had.

See, it seems that some crime lords, arrogant and narcissistic fucks that they are, don't appreciate it when you publish a book in which they feature heavily (even if names are changed), and they are described in a less than favorable light and maybe with words like: "weak-ass Nancy-boys", "useless mentally-challenged fucknuts", or "punk-ass exploitative shit pimp beta fucks".

Well, sure, they get a bit pissed-off at you. Some of them. Well, okay, one in particular.

Sergio Antoine.

Eh.

So there was this mostly-unheard of gang of criminals on the Southside, right? Second-hand punks, mostly, pseudo-bikers. Garbage white-trash meth-heads, low-level drug dealers, pimps, and so forth. Called themselves the "Southside Desperadoes" and owned a three-story warehouse they'd converted into a sketchy strip club named "The Platinum Pony", which was basically a front for their meth and prostitution rackets. Their leader was an ugly bastard that fancied himself as some kind of made man with the local Mafia (none of which, mind you, knew who the fuck he was). Sergio Antoine. He wore expensive clothes and watches, drove Italian sports cars, and wore ridiculous hair pieces.

I swear to God, every time I saw him he had a new look. Short hair, long hair, dreadlocks, shaggy bush, high and tight, loosey-goosey, everything. Couldn't really make up his mind and he ran his gang about the same way. They were drug-lords one week, pimps the next, an MC biker club the week after. Pure chaos. But I managed to ingratiate myself just enough to get access to the inner circle and after that it was a real awakening as to the ways and means of the Liberty City underground crime scene. That formed the basis of "Fear and Loathing" and most of my articles thereafter. I told the club what I was doing, of course, transparency in journalism and all that, but when the book hit, well, they took exception.

Especially Sergio.

Look, I will acknowledge that I didn't exactly describe him in flattering terms, okay, but everything I said was a hundred percent accurate. That probably made it worse. Don't poke the ego-driven narcissistic bear, right? But look here; these people were not good people, they were psychopaths almost to a man, exploiters of everything around them, murderers when they found it convenient and just overall terrible, terrible shitlord human beings. Bad as it was, every single word I wrote about them was true. I just wish it hadn't...

Well, I mean I should have known it would...

I...

Fuck.

I need another drink. Standby.

*tape recorder clicks off*

*tape recorder clicks on*

Her name was Sarah.

Yeah. Before all this really hit its stride, I'd gotten just well enough known at the Courier that I'd been assigned an assistant. Some young, plucky, college intern, much like I'd been once upon a time. We hit it off, she was amazingly competent at all the things I was not and for my part I was a hopeless wreck of a human being. We bonded over drinks and a predilection for old punk bands and one thing led to another and then my book hit (which never would have happened without her help) and we got engaged and the local press made a big deal of it and we were in love and that should have been the part of the story where the fucking narrator says, "they lived happily ever after" and the end of it.

*extended silence*

Goddammit.

*cough*

Sorry, sorry. We were walking out of a trendy downtown restaurant when a car rolled up on us and gunfire erupted from the windows. I found out later that Sergio had ordered the hit because he felt I'd made him look weak in the book. I took one bullet in the shoulder and one in the knee. Sarah took three in the chest.

I held her, um, hmm. Sorry.

I held her while she died.

Um. I need a minute, okay?

*tape recorder clicks off*

...

*tape recorder clicks on*

So, yeah. Okay.

When I got out of the hospital I went on a bit of a bender.

I mean, like, some epic Greek-hero level shit. Total blackout. I dropped a ton of money on coke, meth, booze, pills, everything. Whatever I could shove into my stupid brain to make it forget the pain, right? Still don't remember anything, and that's probably for the best because I woke up in a cornfield in Iowa three weeks later, wearing a powder-blue dress and one sock. Drug my hungover ass out of the field and down the road until I could hitch-hike into the nearest town, get some breakfast and check the feeds. Iowa locals don't even blink about this shit, too many years in the middle of America and everybody's cousin has a meth problem. Your weirdness doesn't even make a dent.

But it seemed the Platinum Pony had mysteriously burned to the ground in the time I'd been out. Multiple dead, all members of the gang. Sergio himself had been found in the back, in a safe room, almost untouched except for a hole in his head the size of a train tunnel. What survivors there were reported an attack by a demon, a figure dressed in a squirrel costume with a high-pitched voice that terrified them as it hunted them one by one, relentlessly murdering everything it encountered with a sawn-off shotgun.

I've no memory of any of that time, of course.

But I did wonder.

So I got my shit together, such as it was, and sold it off to pay for my ticket home. Went back to the Tennessee hills and got me a little cabin up on the top of an Appalachian mountain. Spent my time collecting royalty checks from book sales, drinking moonshine, smoking meth, and hitting on local moonshiner's nubile daughters who might have read one of my books on the down low. I had my reasons, of course, I'd promised my publisher two more books and they'd already tried lawyers to no avail. I feared they would try hitmen next, ditto for the gang scene in Liberty City, who have large egos and long memories.

So I went to ground, grubbing it out on the top of a mountain. No contact with the outside world, just me and the booze and the meth and the occasional young lady with a passion for literature.

It was not the best life, but it was good enough for me at the time, yes.

Fast forward to now, though.

Two things happened, really, that got me off that mountain. Firstly, I couldn't write. It's fucked up, but too much clean air, too much sunshine, trees, grass, squirrels and whatever the fuck, it broke me. It was too easy goddammit. My brain could not deal, and thus no words. I was hamstrung by bliss, I think. Secondly, the money ran out. Surprisingly enough, moonshiners and meth heads don't give credit. So I drug my dumb blissful ass off the mountain and down to the city, made some phone calls to some contacts in the newspaper world, checked the feeds, and found out that Los Santos was the newest hottest criminal hotspot in the world. I felt it too, that vibe, when I stepped off the bus. That feeling that you could die at any time, strike sparks anywhere, and hammer the fiery words of the gods onto paper.

Los Santos smells like gunpowder, diesel fumes, and blood.

And somewhere in my soul, the old Muse stirs.

I'm here to write words. I'm older now, the reflexes aren't what they used to be, but I think I still have some stories left in me. This is the last ride for this old dog journalist, and I aim to make it count, to leave a legacy, whatever it may be, written in the stars of the universe and hopefully at least two books worth of shit because the publishing house is still after my ass for that contract. It's okay though, I know this music and I remember the steps to the dance. The next chapter of chapters starts here, and words are coming easy in Los Santos.

But if I've learned anything, it's that nothing is ever easy.

*tape recorder clicks off*

0 notes

ciathyzareposts · 5 years

Text

Interview with Brian Cody, Co-Creator of Fooblitzky

By Joe Pranevich

From time to time, it has been our pleasure to not only play and explore the classic games, but to discuss them with their creators. We’ve spoken to game designers and game illustrators, but I am pleased to have been able to spend some virtual time with someone who was both: Brian Cody, the co-creator of Fooblitzky, Infocom’s first and last computer board game. If you missed our coverage of that game, you can find it here. Brian was not only responsible for much of the game design, he also developed the game’s unique graphical style.

The following interview has been assembled from a series of emails in January 2019 and edited together for your reading enjoyment.

A fine example of Mike’s “textbook”-style illustration

How you got your start at Infocom and what you had been doing prior to that?

I came from a commercial art background, having graduated from Massachusetts College of Art in the mid-seventies, and worked in a variety of art-related jobs: freelance illustrator, TV cartoon animator and art director in children’s book publishing. My last position before joining Infocom was as staff graphic designer for Houghton Mifflin’s Children’s Book Division, a position I found very slow-moving and boring. I was anxious to try something different.

Can you tell us more about the children’s books that you illustrated of cartoons that you worked on before Infocom?

Children’s book publishing is broken into 2 types:

Trade books: those big colorful picture books you typically find in all children’s book department. Many successful star illustrators have emerged from this category and earn a good living. I was not one of them.

Educational publishing: huge publishing programs that produce 200-300-page textbooks for grades K-12 and, in the lower grades, are filled with fun, colorful, spot art. Textbook illustrators do not make big money. That was me.

So, consequently, there are no trade books with my name on them. But if you had a grade school child in the late 70’s, 80’s, 90’s or early aughts then they undoubtedly experienced my work; you would have to dig through the back of the textbook to locate the paragraph, invariably set in 6-point mouse type, to find my name listed along with 25 other illustrators. I did thousands of illustrations for all the major textbook publishers: Houghton Mifflin, Brown, Scholastic, Harcourt/Brace, etc.

Just FYI, If you ever travel back in time and need to call Brian, he’s extension 61.

As a child of the 80s, I no doubt saw some of your illustrations! Unfortunately, I didn’t steal any textbooks to allow me to go back and check now. Can you tell us about the Infocom Graphics group, what was done when you arrived and what was not? How did it get started?

There was never any Infocom Graphics Group per se. Infocom author and interactive text game-designer Mike Berlyn hired Dan Horn, an Atlanta-based, experienced computer gamer, and myself in late 1982 to design Infocom’s first graphics game. We were sort of like the company’s skunk works; nobody knew what we were doing, least of all us. Mike was our manager and his first assignment was for us to go play computer games for six months so that we could learn what an actual, re-playable game was. We met weekly to discuss learnings. At around the six-month mark Mike decided it was time for Dan and me to produce some graphical game concepts, most probably to justify our existence.

How did development of Fooblitzky get started?

My first idea for a graphics game was of a huge, unwieldy, ill-defined meta game supported by six smaller, simpler games that required solving before gaining access to the big meta-thingie. What ultimately became Fooblitzky was at first one of those six smaller games, a computerized scavenger hunt involving stores and collectable items. During my presentation, composed of just Mike, Dan and myself, Mike allowed me enough rope to hang myself by trying to explain the meta mess. Once I proved I had no idea of the scope of what I was proposing, Mike looked at Dan and me and said, paraphrasing, “See that scavenger hunt? That’s your game.”

So I had a direction. Using the same blue-lined graph paper we all used in fifth grade science class, I mocked up a crude gameboard showing sidewalks, stores and items to be collected. We rolled Monopoly dice and moved around the board, keeping rough notes on who bought what. It must’ve shown some potential as a multi-player, family-oriented computer board game, of which there were few on the market at the time. But it had to be more Infocom-weird.

A “Koala Pad”, courtesy of Wikimedia commons. Uploaded by Nynexman4464.

What happened next? How did the team come together?

Up until that point in early 1983, I was producing near unintelligible computer graphics on a Koala pad with stylus and no printable output. Then Infocom management showed up with something called a “Macintosh”, a pre-release, 128K Apple prototype, intended for use in the development of future Infocom products. Mouse-driven, with both word processing and graphics programs, Mike recognized what it could be and soon appropriated it for my graphical use only. It did not take long to master both MacWord and MacPaint and I was soon producing graphics with supporting text for our weekly meetings, demonstrating what this computerized scavenger hunt might look and play like. It was at this point that one of Infocom’s original founders, Marc Blank, began to occasionally join the graphics meetings, most probably at Mike’s urging.

In the meantime, Mike began inviting a couple of different subject experts to our weekly graphics meetings. Poh C. Lim, an MIT graduate and software engineer at Infocom, was added to begin the conversion of my Macintosh graphics files into a format acceptable to Infocom’s proprietary, virtual ZIL-machine compiler. Poh soon became an almost full-time member of the still-informal graphics group, providing not only deep technical support but also many different game suggestions and improvements. Brian Moriarty, a former tech editor at ANALOG Computing and combination tech editor/game designer at Infocom, also joined the group for our weekly meetings; while his principal function seemed to be to remind us every week of how stupid we were to be designing a graphics game in an interactive text gaming company, Brian’s long background in computer gaming often proved invaluable in keeping the game’s design and implementation on track.

If this is composed of reused tiles, I sure can’t tell.

[ Ed Note: You can read about Brian Moriarty’s ANALOG career and his first game published in that magazine here. ]

What was Poh Lim’s role on the development team?

It was Poh who first understood and articulated the need to establish a limit on the graphics used to produce the scavenger hunt. Otherwise it would grow too large and slow for the mainframe-based ZIL graphical compiler to be able to digest and convert into Apple II, IBM PC and Atari-compatible software. If memory serves me, I was given 240 separate and distinct blocks (8×8 pixels? Not sure.) to use to illustrate, color and animate the entire game. For instance, a single black block could be used a thousand times to outline the four-quadrant gameboard, the multiple iterations of the animated dog, the 18 different store items, the Chanceman and so on and the compiler would still recognize and count all those things as being comprised of only a single, black block. To a degree, that explains the game’s blocky look and feel; the entire thing is built on a grid.

As the game took further shape, mid-to-late 1983, and Poh was able to preview online the most basic functions using my Macintosh illustrations – gameboard, stores, spinning game wheel, animated items and animated dog, etc. – weekly graphics meeting became important in fleshing out the actual gameplay. I’d come up with the game’s concept and look/feel but the gameplay itself needed more fun, more randomness, maybe even some strategy. Which is where the addition of Marc and Brian to our group of Mike, Dan, Poh and myself became so valuable; the Chanceman, crosswalks, the falling piano, UGH, bumping, lockers, pawn shops and more elements of chance all came careening out of this collective group. Marc came up with the name Fooble to describe the game’s coins and eventually named the game Fooblitzky.

Oh yes. We know all about Cornerstone. *shudder*

How did the development of Cornerstone affect what you were doing and how it was released?

Other internal projects, including Infocom’s answer to Lotus Software’s groundbreaking 1-2-3 spreadsheet software, named Cornerstone, continued pulling at Mike’s time and he began to back out of the babysitting portion of managing Fooblitzky. Jon Palace was hired to project manage the graphics project as well as other ongoing interactive text projects. By this time, I knew what Fooblitzky was and I knew what was required, from a graphics POV, to finish it; just keep drawing. Jon joined our weekly graphics meetings and his scheduling discipline became important to helping keep development on track.

You’ve mentioned Mike Berlyn, Marc Blank, and Poh Lim, but there is a fourth person credited for Fooblitzky. How did Paula Maxwell come to join the team?

In very early 1984, I was able to hire Paula Maxwell to help with the game’s animation. Her responsibility was to complete animations I’d begun, using a rough style guide for direction. Paula worked in the graphics group for about six months and then decided to return to her native California.

By mid/late-1984 we had a fingers-crossed finish date for development of Fooblitzky of December 1984. I’d mocked-up a prototype of the game box and worksheets, shown them to Mike, Marc and the group and, with their approval released it to Carl Genatossio, Infocom’s Creative Director, for production. A rough cut of the game was in Testing for debugging and it had been previewed with Public Relations and the senior interactive writer’s group. “Doubtful” was the word I think best described their puzzled reaction. In late 1984 I was unexpectedly laid off. Graphical work on Fooblitzky stopped.

That is unexpected! Do you know how the game was finished?

In 1985, I was hired back as an independent contractor to finish the remaining Fooblitzky graphics and animations. January and February are what it took I believe. Mike had, at that point I think, left the company.

Original Fooblitzky box for the PC

The launch of Fooblitzky was strange– mail order-only for the first six month. Leaked sales records suggest it may have sold only sold 500 copies that way. (It sold more later.) Do you know anything else about the release?

I had no input into the game’s production, release, and distribution. It would not strike me as silly to find that Carl had 500 boxes printed and management put minimum effort into trying to sell them in order to clear warehouse shelf space.

I later heard anecdotally through Infocom friends that the development of Cornerstone had far outgrown anyone’s estimate for time, budget, and headcount required to finish. And that all non-mission-critical internal projects had to end in order to get Cornerstone out the door. Just company gossip.

What have you been up to since then?

I returned to my core expertise in late 1985, what was once called “commercial art”. I held a variety of positions involving illustration, graphic design and art direction. Eventually I moved into management, spending 10 years at Digital Equipment and culminating in five years as Director of Marketing Services at relational database manufacturer Sybase, then one of the 10 largest software manufacturers in the U.S.

I am fortunate to have a wonderful 43-year marriage to my wife Joel. We have 2 great kids and are starstruck daily by our four granddaughters, two of whom live in Seattle and two locally in Ipswich; the latter pair I fruitlessly attempt to provide daycare for. Fooblitzky was a breeze compared to these two.

This is amazing! Thank you for sharing your story.

Brian really does find unique character in his art.

I want to thank Brian for spending as much time as he did talking with us. Reading over our conversation for the first time was like turning on a light into an otherwise unknown portion of Infocom history. There is a lot here to digest, but it’s clear that Brian had a much larger role in the development of the game than is popularly understood. Perhaps we can have a follow-up interview with Mike Berlyn in a few months, if he is interested, especially as we have now played all of his adventure games except 1997’s Zork: The Undiscovered Underground. You can find (and purchase!) Brian’s work at his website, BrianCody.com as well as his Zazzle store.

Up next for me will be Dave Lebling’s Spellbreaker, our last Infocom game of 1985. That should be a lot of fun.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/interview-with-brian-cody-co-creator-of-fooblitzky/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

0 notes

dangerouscrusadefire-blog · 6 years

Text

Rover75 rear hit by a 4x4. Garage says not repairable what do I do? how much will the insurance pay?

"Rover75 rear hit by a 4x4. Garage says not repairable what do I do? how much will the insurance pay?

The 4x4 damaged the rear end of my Rover 75, impossible to shut boot and lights not working. The garage and insurance now say it is not repairable. - but even after the accident, the car was driving perfectly. How much will the insurance company pay? Will they? Is there any way I can get the car fixed?

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://freeautoinsurance.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr

RELATED QUESTIONS:

What happens if i get hit by a car and i dont have insurance my car was parked i didnt drive it?

i was parked and a car backed up to park and had a mecahnical problem hit my front bumper and literaly dragged it to the sidewalk. i dont have insurance i always left my car parked ...show more

Health insurance premium just went up because i turned 60.?

Anyone know where I can get my own health insurance rather than through my employer?

""The most basic and cheapest insurance available, forget what it's called?""

There's a type of insurance for mostly minors or people who deal with used cars that are cheap etc, rarely driven, traded often, and it's called ______ I forget, and it only entitles you to be insured against law suits if the other person is injured. Real crappy insurance right? I'm starting to trade cars but some will need to be driven to shops and stuff like that. In my state MICHIGAN, you need to have insurance BEFORE you register, which sucks for me. For example, I am about to buy a piece of crap 500 dollar Chevy Cavalier and I need to most basic insurance, I just forget the term for this. I don't want to get a huge big policy for a car that will be driven probably less then 50 miles in it's time that I have it.""

What the steps to take if someone doesn't want to use car insurance to pay for accident?

Someone just rear ended me. There are deep scratches on the bumper. He has car insurance, but doesn't want to use it. I got most of his information - driver's license #, car insurance info, ect. What are the steps I should take? My car insurance company said I have to call in and report accidents as soon as they happen. Should I do this in case he doesn't follow through and pay me for repairs? Should I go get an estimate right now, and have him send me a check?""

What is the average auto mileage per year?

Farmers Insurance says that it is 22,000 and I don't believe them for a second""

""Whats a cheap military car insurance, with low down payment?""

i know usaa, but i want options.. im in florida.. if that makes a difference""

How much will car insurance be for a sixteen year old girl who lives in California?

My parents don't have the money (plus they don't want to) to pay for my insurance, so even though i'm turning seventeen this year, I still don't have my license. I'm trying to get a job, though, and was wondering if anyone could give me a ballpark for how much it'll cost a year...I get good grades, I know some places will give you discounts if you have good grades...so yeah. :)""

Cheapest car insurance?

I'm looking for the cheapest car insurance coverage right now. All I need is an affordable quote, so I don't care about how good the company is or how much they will cover. I just need affordable insurance to drive a car. I had 2 tickets, and all the quotes I've been getting so far are over $1,000 for 6 months. I am fully aware that I drove like a dummy and was unlucky as hell; that's where the 2 tickets came from. So please don't make any comment on that. I just need some help. Thank you!""

Can anyone tell me about affordable life ins. after age 80?

I have a term policy that will expire in two months, and would like to find an insurance co. that has some ins. that is not priced so high that I can't pay the premiums. Thanks for not sending any SPAM !!""

Is four wheel drive worth it for where I live concerning insurance costs?

How can I find affordable health insurance in Florida?

Trying to get free motorcycle insurance quote from progressive?

Its asking me this though: What date would you like your Progressive policy to start? Im confused. I just want a free quote, i dont want to actually sign up for insurance""

What is average cost for insurance on a 2013 Kia optimum comp and collision?

How much do I pay monthly to insurance to cover a Acura rsx?

I am 19 thinking of buying an Acura rsx but I've been doing research & noticing that the insurance for that car is very high? Does anyone know how much a month would I have to pay & if anyone knows the best insurance company to get for the car? I'm looking for the cheapest deal? Help please

Insurance for acura rsx?

I am thinking about getting an acura base rsx. Im 16 years old. How much would insurance be I live in ky

How much does my car insurance go up if someone sues my insurance for getting hurt in accident?

my daughter was driving my car and got in accident (her fault) and the girl with her is suing, will my ins go up a lot more than just the four surcharges for an accident?""

About how much should the car insurance of a 17 year old who drives a 2003 Black Ford Mustang?

""Driving other cars, insurance policy for under 25?""

does anyone know of any insurance companies that offer DOC on their comprehensive insurance policy for an under 25? If not, how much roughly would a weeks insurance cost on another car?""

2006 Saleen Insurance?

I might be buying a 2006 Saleen supercharged next week. I am 22 years old and female (but I turn 23 in May). I've never been in any accidents, I've only had one speeding ticket about 3 years ago, and I have a pretty good driving record, and I've already graduated from college. Any clue how much full coverage insurance will be?? or maybe what any of you may pay for a similar car?""

Car insurance cost for a Infiniti g35 coupe?

I'm 18 and think of getting one, anyone know how much it might be? Oh and btw I live in Hawaii.""

HELP!! IM 19 i need a very cheap car insurance?

hi i recieved a BMW compact 02 plate car as a gift, and i was really happy but now im really upset because i cannot find any cheap car insurance, i quote all the time and the lowest price i get is 5200 for a year and monthly instalments of 468, i wonder where in their brain do they they think i can pay that every month, i work and pay my rent, sky, internet, gas, tax, credit card etc. what must i do i cant afford to pay 468 more on bills. can you please give me websites which can help, and please dont leave any rude comments because i really cant be bothered for u wasting your time , THANK YOU""

I'm 23 and a female. I've never bought car insurance before. Who's cheaper Geico or Progressive?

Is wanting to pay $100 a month unrealistic?

Can I drive without my name on car insurance?

I'm 18 living in California. I am not on my parents insurance because I don't have a job to help pay the monthly fee. I do however drive the car with my parent in the car with me. My mom signed a waiver that said something like My child is not responsible for any damages if in a collision. Basically saying that my mom is taking full responsibility if anything happens to the car wile we are driving. So I guess y question is; Is it illegal to drive without being on the insurance, but an adult who is on the insurance is in the car? In other words can I still drive with a parent whose name is on the insurance, even though my name isn't? I apologize if this sounds confusing.""

Where can I get affordable health insurance?

My husband has been sick for like a year and we cannot afford to go to the doctor in fact he went to a doctor and they told him he has to go see another doctor because they can't find anything wrong with him. so that's $300 down the drain and we haven't even paid it. Is there something I can get him that would cost $30 a month and have some way for him to get some tests that wouldn't kill us financially?

I dont have car insurance?

Currently i dont have a car. I drive my sister car and she added me to her car insurance. If she rents a car for me would her insurance cover in case of accident if i am in her policy?

Were can you get cheap car insurance?

i am 17 years old. i have ford kA and i am trying to look for cheap insurance cn any one help? xx

What is the average cost of replacing a water heater? Which would you choose insurance payment or heater?

My water heater needs to be replaced (electric) I have a warranty insurance that will replace it however there are a few non covered costs - the pan, the permit, some other part, it will cost me $512.00. They have given me the option to cash out which means they cut me a check and I try to figure it out on my own. Problem is the cashout amount is unknown and it will take up to two weeks for me to find out what the amount is before i can even decide - two weeks without a hot shower is HELL! But I'm not sure what to do. What would you do? Can anyone guess as to what amount they MIGHT give me? The insurance company is American Home Shield. ANY advice will help. I'm a new home owner and don't know a thing about house stuff! Thanks!""

How does car insurance work?

I got a quote for a BMW 325XI. It was going to cost 1390$ for 6 months. Now, does that mean I pay for the 6 months and then get the other 6 months of the year off? Or does it mean that I pay 1390+1390 for a total of 2780$ per YEAR?""

What is the best insurance company to insure an enagement ring?

I'm looking for a dependable insurer that will insure an engagement ring; not an add-on policy to a homeowner's or renter's insurance. Moreover, a company that will soley insure a piece of jewelry.""

Is the Nissan 300zx (1991) a good first car for a teenager?

I just want to know, I'm shopping for my first car. I have about $3500 and I want a car that is sporty. I like the nissan 300zx, and I need to know if its a reliable enough car and a good buy for my first car. I f anyone has any advice or knows about the car, let me know. Thank you!""

Is there a CHEAP car that fits my needs?

Hey, Im a soon to be 19 year old, looking for my first car, I iwll be getting my licenses next month and was wondering is there like a cheap big body cars out there sorta like the ...show more""

How much would taxi insurance cost?

How much would it cost to insure a car essentially as a taxi? Also how much would it cost for a person to be insured in a customers car (any car they drive)?

""On average, how much would motorcycle insurance be for someone under 21?""

I want to get a motorcycle to save on gas and just because there awesome, but before I jump into things i want to see if you can help. I am trying to chose between a 1993 or1999 Harley XL Sportster and want to know on a rough estimation how much it will be for insurance for a minor?""

How much is insurance for a jeep wrangler?

ok, im 14 and im planning on buying a jeep wrangler in two years for my first car because i really like jeeps. but my dad says that insurance rates are high enough for jeeps already, but being a 16 year old guy would only make it worse. So i just want to know about how much it would cost a month to insure a jeep wrangler (not a newer model) with geico?""

Best place to get California car insurance?

Online, preferably. Thanks!""

What's the best company to get individual health insurance? What organizations offer group health plan?

I am talking about health insurance that covers doctors, prescriptions, and hospital expenses.""

""Why do people think because Obama wants heath care to be more affordable, that he is for socialism?""

I personally am tired of paying over $10,000. for medical coverage and co-pays because we do not get a more reduced rate, then would be from a larger company, we do recieve a small ...show more""

When I turn 17 will my car insurance or any kind of insurance rate decrease?

My dad wont pay for my car insurance until I'm 17 because he says it does down greatly but I asked some people and they said it doesn't change.

How much would car insurance range for a 16 year old?

I am 16 years old, going to be driving a 1992 Ford F-150, I don't have great grades, I just wanted to get an idea of what I looking at for insurance.""

Cars that are cheap to insure in UK?

hi im 18 and just passed my driving test. i looked for cheap insurance for my dad's wv golf but cheapest route i found was around 2500. i was wondering what cars are cheap to insure!?

Should I change insurance companies? How to change insurance?

If I don't pay insurance, company will cancel insurance, right? I don't link an insurance company to my bank, so I think stop paying, insurance will be cancel. Should I change insurance companies? Someone told me insurance company will increase fee every year, changing company may save money. In my case, I paid $650 for home insurance last year. However, I have to pay $800 this year.""

Is $$ 785.00 a year to much for Full-Coverage car Insurance ?

It's A.A.A. Insurance. My Honda car is 10 years old. With just 84,500 miles on it. --------------------------- (Such Low Milage cause I only drive 450 miles to 500 miles per month.)""

How much would it cost to insure a 16 year old boy?

i want to buy a 1988 toyota mr2 but my parents say the insurance would be to expensive can you give me a estimate how much it would cost.

""Car Insurance, New driver ?""

Ok someone told me today about starting a account with PSECU but im not really sure what that is. Im trying to get a car and someone else told me I should get a car loan and finance a car. Can someone please explain this to me If I take out a car loan , get approved, get a car, how does me paying the loan back and the car payment works ???""

I hit my sisters car in the drive way. will my insurance go up?

When i was backing out she was really close and i hit here side with mine. i put a palm size dent in the car and i broke here mustangs lubber. will my insurance go up because of this? i herd that something like that it wont. it happened in my drive way. and my insurance comp is the General

On average how much do you pay for your car?

My boyfriend makes about 1,100 a month. I made about 1,200 a month. We're young, so we don't make that much but we do live together and we have been since I was 18. Pretty soon, I should be making around... 1,400 a month. WE NEED TO GET A CAR. I had one but gave it to my mother who was struggling. We want to get one so here it goes: 1, When we go to the car dealership what information (other than the standard info) will they ask for? 2. What is required to buy a car other than insurance and a license? 3. How much is an average down payment? 4. Say we get a used car made before 2005, how much on average should the monthly payment be? I know there's a million answers but this but anything will help. Maybe like a honda civic or ford focus, something small and cheap. You're help is very valuable. :) :) :) :)""

Moving insurance question?

In september I will be moving to a state on the other side of the country for a few months and then comming back. Will I need a new insurance company or will my rates go up when I move? does it matter that it will only be for a few months? Im currently in CT and I'll be going to Orlando Florida if that helps at all

How much do Hyundai Coupe S's cost to insure?

Annual Insurance 2002 worth 600 17 year old male driver

What is a very general cost for motorcycle (cruiser) insurance for a teen?

I am a 16 year old living in Kansas City, Kansas. I just need a very general quote for the annual cost for a cruiser motorcycle less than 600cc. A small bike with not a ton of power. I have taken a Basic Rider Course. I've never been involved in an accident car wise. Would it be wise to just have my dad insure it under his name? Are there any potential consequences for that? I only need liability as the bike is only worth around $1300. I have not bought one yet.""

Does anyone know the best way to get insurance leads?

i'm looking for a way to get insurance leads, I would rather own software myself as appose to paying for an individual leads, can anyone tell me the name of a some good software? thanks in advance!""

I need to know if there is any College to learn Insurance in the World.?

any Insurance Instituet or College in the World

Were can you get cheap car insurance?

i am 17 years old. i have ford kA and i am trying to look for cheap insurance cn any one help? xx

What is the cheapest place to get car insurance in Toronto Canada?

Do you know of any auto insurance companies that don't base your rates on your credit report?

Due to an illness/ disability in our family, despite having health insurance, we still owe thousands in medical bills. Those that would not work with us turned them into collection. They now show on our credit report. Despite being insured for both our auto insurance and our home insurance for 20+ year with the same insurance company, we got a notice saying our auto insurance had gone up hundreds of dollars per year based on a credit report they obtained. We have never had an accident, ticket, etc. and the amount automatically comes out of our checking each month. Plus, last year, prior to this, they switched us to a preferred group within the company and gave us a discount when we threatened to switch. How can I find out which insurance companies base your insurance rates on your credit report and or score? Will they tell you outright? This is the first I have ever known that our company did this and was wondering if all of them do it, or do you just know about it when you get a notice like we did? I get their reasoning but it seems like such a rip off when so many are in our boat- insured but with insurance that is starting to pay less and less and cost more. Plus, they have our checking account and if we were not to pay, they wouldn't be responsible for us if we had an accident anyway. Seems like a double whammy to me. Can anyone help?""

Car insurance please help me out?

Oh right lol my query is as follows .. In July 2012 my daughter took out a pay monthly insurance policy with close premium 139 per month which was paid from my bank account every month on time for 12 months. When due for renewal August 2013 the insurance company sent her a quote saying payments were 168 per month! In view of this she decided not to insure her car and didn't use it. Shortly afterwards she receives a letter from close premium saying Hastings insurance could cover her for 100 per month but she never accepted this offer. In September 2013 Hastings took payment from my account so I contacted bank and recalled the payment. She now has a recovery agency acting on behalf of Hastings claiming she owes 400 . I can't see how she owes this money ? Do we have to pay this when we never accepted the policy and close premium passed on my bank details without my knowledge ? ( hope this makes sense)

Denied car insurance?

what happens if all the major car insurance companies deny you insurance if your a first time driver and have bad credit. geico and allstate denied me already. what can i do if they ALL deny me?

What's the point of getting insurance?

It's not like the insurance companies ever pay you anything anyway.

Totally outrageous car insurance quote?

I had some issues paying my car insurance and it was cancelled. I called by ins company today to renew it. They told me they couldn't renew my policy but they have a buddy company that can give me an insurance policy. So they get all my info and they quoted me 730 dollars a month! I understand I have bad driving history and I let my insurance get cancelled, but that doesn't seem right at all, I was paying 100 dollars a month before. That doesn't even seem like a real number to charge someone for car insurance, it's more than I pay for rent!""

Registering a car and car insurance?

So I just got my license last wednesday and idk which step comes first. Do I register the car first or do I buy insurance first?

Estimate how much car insurance would cost?

I just need a ball park estimate: I am 19, female, first time driver. I would have a used Geo Metro from the mid 90's. I can't get on my parent's insurance. Can you give me an approximate range on how much I'd have to pay for insurance?""

Cheap auto insurance safe to have?

I'm going to buy auto insurance and the rates I'm getting are pretty low, $72.00 per month (Progressive) and $92.00 (Geico). But I picked the state's lowest minimum coverage that was available, and I was wondering if it's safe/okay to do that? Thanks :)""

Will i need cash deposit or visa to get rental car after accident in which other party is at fault?

i did not have insurance at time of accident. i live in california.

Auto Insurance for a non-owner in Michigan?

My son, who has never had a ticket or any violations at all, does not own a vehicle. He will occasionally drive my vehicle. I live in Ohio and have insurance on the car in Ohio. Is that ok? Does he also need to maintain some type of coverage in Michigan. I do not see that Michigan has something like a non-owner policy if you do not have any violations and are not required to have the SR22 policy.""

49cc scooter insurance? license? im 16 in Alaska?

what do i need to drive a 49cc scooter in Alaska? i am 16 and have a instructional/ learners permit only. also how much will minimal insurance cost? thanks! :)

Is it illegel for a health insurance company to refuse to sell health insurance?

My wife is 35th week pregnant and she needs health insurance by september 1st. There are a number of insurance company decline her application. Is this ok by law?

How much condo insurance should one get?

if i have a condo that i want to get insurance for, what is a good amount? the condo is 1215 sq ft w/ 2 bath & 2 bedroom.""

Need help on car insurance for young driver?

Hi! I've been struggling to get a good quote for car insurance for a while now. I tried all the big name comparison sites and every one is quoting me 4k (monthly installments). I opted for third party and theft, i am 22 years of age and my postcode starts with sl1 (slough) and i got pass plus and had my licence (manual) since march 2011. I got my car already its a Peugeot 206 1.6l petrol manual 1999 3doors. If you have time you can try for yourself with the above details the quote is freaking too much. Is this just how it is or am i doing something wrong? If you can point me to the right direction that would be amazing!!""

""I wrecked my new car , insurance is liability?

i wrecked my car . my car was new 2009 car and my insurance was liabilty. police decided that was my fault. And also i am still paying monthly payment on that car. Does anybody know what should i do next . i been using that car to work now i am unemployee . should i just bankrufcy

Motorcycle insurance in GTA?!?

Hey, I am 21 and has had motorcycle insurance now for the past 3 years and have been insured for a 2009 kawasaki ninja 250r. I am currently paying $1700 a year for insurance with td and have a perfect driving record. I want to switch my bike to a 2012 harley davidson iron 883 and just got a quote from them for $5500 a year!! I think that is ridiculous! Does anyone know of any good motorcycle insurance for harleys or are similar in age and paying less? I really want this bike but $5500 a year is nuts. I can buy a brand new ninja every year lmao.""

Where can I find cheap young male car insurance on any car?

I'm a 17 year old driver who has just passed my test and when i go to quote myself on any car its either unquotable or something like 20,000 a year or something stupid even with immobilizers trackers parked in a garage etc and when i put my mum as the main driver (she has 5 year NCD) it only dropped like 200 so i don't understand how people are getting it below 10000 let alone 2000. I haven't bought a car yet but could somebody tell me what is the up most cheapest car to insure and all the combinations that make it cheaper. Once more annoying is that I live in a pretty nicer area so you wouldn't think it would cost as much compared to other people but they seem to get theirs cheaper.""

Beware this Scam on Car Insurance.!!?

A friend of mine was telling me about how his son was Scammed by a fake online Insurance Company. They are advertising car Insurance 50% cheaper, which of course is attracting young drivers. He paid 620 by his visa card for full cover, and was sent His Insurance documents. However, he was stoppd by the Police late at night for a Routine check, a few Months later, as It had come up on the NPR that he was driving without Insurance cover. He showed the Police his Documents and he was told that this company does not exist, and he is the 20th driver they have stopped and found that they have fake documents. However, the police did not press charges in this instance, but told him they have been trying to track these scammers for a whilr, but all they know is they are operating from Nigeria, and Latvia, but keep moving around. They advised the Lad in future to use a well known Insurance company or visit a good insurere in person to get Insurance. So God knows how many other drivers are on the road with useless Insurance cover.""

Way to get auto insurance for $100 a month?

I haven't had (needed) auto insurance in five years. I just got a quote from a few places, and can't believe the cost!! I have an unblemished record.""

Auto insurance question -- Florida?

My daughter can't really afford the insurance on her car; it's a 2003 Jetta and if she keeps it she will probably have to do a certain amount of repairs. Right now she has full coverage but is considering dropping the collision to lower the cost. If, God forbid, she should get into an accident without collision coverage, could she sue the other driver to repair or replace the car? Would she be likely to be successful? I am not hopeful of anything like that happening, believe me, but you just don't want to lose your investment especially if you have spent a lot on repairs. Thanks in advance for any insights.""

How to get cheap car insurance ?

I have just passed my driving test 2 weeks ago and im 18 ive been searching forever to get a cheap quote but its not working anyone know what to do and who to go with

Car insurance rates for men vs. women?

I was just wondering if there were any car insurance companies that charge higher premiums for men and in what locations are they higher. I was looking at a study that says that men are more dangerous drivers. Statistically men get into more accidents and cause more accidents with severe injuries. I live in Michigan and I don't think that insurance rates are higher for men here. Thanks for your answers!

College student and no health insurance?

For all of my high school years, I was on state heath insurance. I am turning 19 at the end of this month and will begin college classes this summer, but I am really worried about not having health insurance (my services end when I turn 19.) I have bulimia and I go to therapy once a week and see a physician once a month, so it is pretty imperative that I have health insurance. I am just wondering if I will just have to be without health insurance until I'm an adult and can afford it? Or is there something out there for college students? Thanks""

What is the difference between comprehensive and third party car insurance and which one is more beneficial?

What is the difference between comprehensive and third party car insurance and which one is better. I have a 2005 wagon r lxi and wants to renew the insurance which one should i opt for.?

Were can you get cheap car insurance?

i am 17 years old. i have ford kA and i am trying to look for cheap insurance cn any one help? xx

MotorBike Insurance For CBT...?

i was just wondering if i bought a Honda CBR 125r and i got a provisional license ad done the CBT would i need insurance to ride on the roads for 2 years or would i not need insurance until i could save up money for lessons, theory and practical test....???""

Affordable maternity insurance?

How can i have a free car insurance for 1 day?

i want to buy a car from auction it has bot MOT & TAX. How can I insure it for 1 day to jut to drive 300 miles back home and then search for a good insurance quote? I am insured to drive another car as a named driver. Thanks

What is the most affordable and complete health insurance?

My husband moved to North Carolina 8 months ago from India and is a Pharmacist. However, until he passes his equivalency exams in the states, he is working as a Pharmacy Technician. I am not working at the moment (not by choice but by the terrible job situation in the country). We are shopping around for affordable health insurance. Blue Cross is too expensive and so are many others. We are on a very limited income, however, health is of utmost importance too. So even if it is really bank breaking, we are looking into getting health insurance. What is the best one in terms of affordability and coverage? We don't have children yet but hope to start a family in a couple of years when we are better settled. Neither one of us are smokers and are in pretty good shape. Please help with sound advice. Thanks so much in advance""

How much is the Tax penalty for not having insurance?

I lost my insurance because I didn't have enough hours. I missed open enrollment last fall and not eligible again until October 31. I heard Obama care is expensive. I also have two jobs and make around 30,000 gross pay with both jobs combined. Is the 100 a monthly penalty or a yearly penalty. Is their anyway to get around open enrollment. Maybe my Union can help?""

Will homeowners insurance pay for a stolen bike?

Do i need insurance to drive with my license with my parents?

so i have had my permit for a little over 6 months and my dad doesnt want me to get my license yet (he wants me to wait an extra 6 months). I want to get my license now, but treat it the same as a permit so that I will not have all those extra rules that your supposed to have for the first year of driving with a license. So my question is... Do I need to have insurance if I am driving my parents car with my parents in the car when I have my license? I know it is not required when I have my permit but is it required when I have my license? I live in california by the way.""

Where i can get cheap auto insurance?

How much would my insurance cost?

hi i am 18 and looking for a vauxhall corsa the old one or a ka the old version i wanted to know from my age and the car on average how much would my insurance cost a month i am from england so could you tell me in pounds please p.s. i know it depends on a lot more things but it will be my 1st car could anyone please give me an average thank you

Is it worth coveriong your sport bike in your insurance or is it best to just cover liability?

Covering your own bike literally triples the yearly rate, as in, your paying more for insurance than the actual bike. Is it really worth covering or should i just suffer my losses. Thanks to all and any veteran riders out their for opinion.""

Should I accept this settlement offer from an insurance company?

I was in a car accident when a girl blew a red light and smashed into my side. $10,000 in auto damages that was fixed rights away. (btw she admitted fault to police so im 0% at fault legally) I went to emergency room for precautionary reasons. That cost $1450. Then little by little the pain started to kick in. I had neck pain, shoulder pain, back pain and terrible pain in my knee. I had MRI on back, knee and neck because those were the worst. That total was about $1800. I was told by the doctor that the mri on my back said I have two herniated disks and I should do therapy. I listened to him and went four times per week for four months. The Mri on my neck came back good. But my knee showed a tear in mcl. I had surgery on that and had to see the surgeon in his office twice plus hospital bills which equals a bill of $14,500. I then needed 2 months of therapy on my knee. Also all the pain meds ive been taking through out the whole process is around $600. I had a ekg for my nerves to test if they were good and that cost $800. So after doing my research I find websites that say the settlement amount s should be all bills multiplied by 3 depending on the persons insurance carrier and coverage. Well this person has $200,000/$200,000. So far all my bills have been paid through my insurance. When I do the math for what all the bills are is comes to roughly $28350. I didn't include the four days per week for therapy and seeing the doctors. That has to be a big chunk also. My lawyer called me and said he was made an offer of $42,000. He gets a 1/3 of that. I think they low balled me soooo bad on this. If i use the X3 multiplier method then it should have been somewhere around $85,000 offer. Remember I didn't even include all the visits to the therapy. Is this a good offer or should I decline and wait for second offer? My lawyer thinks we should wait it out because he has such a big insurance policy that we can get much more especially since that was our first offer.""

Car accident in California with no insurance. What do do now?

A friend of mine just got into a car accident in California. He was test driving a car. The guy who wants to sell the car was in the passenger seat. My friend was unfamiliar with the area and the guy who wants to sell the car told him to turn right. While doing that he crossed another lane and got hit by a car driving there. Both cars got quite damaged, but no one got injured. Police came and filed a ticket against my friend. He does not have any insurance. What advise could I give him? What should he do next? I don't live in the states so it is kind of hard for me to help him.""

Where can I find info on LOW COST Medical Insurance In Central NY? (Student Artist Musician Business Owner)?

My wife and I are moving soon from PHX, AZ to the greater Syracuse area. I am moving my multimedia business / record label (websites, print design, videography, DVD production and studio recording) and I need information on which companies can provide my family reasonable cost heath insurance. Right now my wife works fulltime so we use her benefits, but we will be starting a family and would like to keep her at home for a few years. In PHX, health insurance for non-group individuals runs about $300 a month - from what I can see in CNY it can cost closer to $1000! Can some one help me with this? Am I looking at the wrong companies or is it just that mush more expensive? Are any loop holes? In some states Students, Artist, Musicians & Small Business Owners can get highly discounted rates - is this true in CNY? Can anyone help? Thanks in advance!""

Question about college health insurance?

If my current health insurance is expiring this end of December, am I able to opt-out of the university health insurance for this fall and reapply for the university health insurance for the spring term--just to save money?""

What insurance group is a 1965 FORD MUSTANG FASTBACK?

Can a non-relative be added onto ones insurance?

Example: A friend and his daughter that are living with me He has no insurance, and wont be getting any for at least 6 months, and I am helping to support her. I would like to add her onto my insurance so she is at least covered in case of emergency.""

""I received a ticket for no seat belt, will it affect my insurance?""

I got the ticket in Garden Grove, California (my first offense). I am thinking about fighting it because I DID have my seat belt on but then I found out that the Vehicle Code 27315 states that the fine for a first offense is no more than $20. But then again I am worried that it will affect my record and my insurance. Can I go to traffic school or something to clear the violation so my insurance won't know? If not should I fight it?""

In BC how much difference in insurance costs is it based on the cost of the?

vehicle? I'm not talking about liability but collision and comprehension. I'm buying a car that costs about 10,000.00 and I am used to driving crappy cars that cost $2000.00. I'm trying calculate the difference in insurance costs. Does anybody know?""

What is the best car insurance company for a graduate student?

As a young adult where did you buy your auto insurance and how much did you pay a month?

well i am 19 i am looking for a auto insurance company. i have a 2003 4runner. so what insurance company did you get at my age. and which would you recommend to me? preferably an insurance that is cheap my father paid like 130 per month for this car under his insurance (but he is old lol)

Car Insurance?

I am just about to get my license. My parents want me to have my own insurance policy; and I was wondering if anyone knows of a good company to go with. Something with good coverage, but relatively cheap; I only have a part time job. I am under 18 so I know that will influence a lot of how much it costs me and etc. Any input on this is greatly appreciated.""

Life Insurance for a 40 Year Old?

I need some suggestions on what Life Insurance company to go for. I need one that's legitimate and affordable.

How much does insurance generally cover in a minor accident?

I was backing out of a parking lot space and I backed into a newer Lexus! This was my first accident and I am 18 years old! The damage was kind of minor and the estimate came out to $568.00 *we didnt call 911 How much will my insurance cover? P.S.I have state farm auto insurance

Right now Im on my parent's car insurance policy b/c im 17 but im looking to move out soon?

Can someone please tell me how much your car insurance goes up once you are on you own plan. im paying 360 every three months now.

Do you need insurance on a motorcycle in Florida?

I read online that if you own and have the title of the motorcycle you do not need insurance . But i never believe what i read on random websites so I'm asking here. The insurance companies are giving me insane premiums even though i have a clean driving record. My question is,is that accurate that i dont need insurance to ride in Florida.?Thank you everyone in advance.""

Were can you get cheap car insurance?

i am 17 years old. i have ford kA and i am trying to look for cheap insurance cn any one help? xx

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/non-us-citizen-car-insurance-dan-barrett"

0 notes

houstonlocalus-blog · 7 years

Text

In Their Own Words: Homeless in Houston

Photos by Mark Armes

The City of Houston is back at it again, and by again I mean finding new and inventive ways to criminalize the poor. We already run a debtor’s prison in Harris County, and now some new misguided ordinances recently passed by City Council are receiving quite a bit of attention, both locally and nationally. Under Annise Parker’s leadership in 2012, the city passed an ordinance that made it illegal to feed more than five people on public property without a permit. The 2012 feeding ordinance certainly had an impact on people experiencing homelessness, and last month the city stepped up their efforts by going after access to shelter and resources through two new ordinances.

Ordinance No. 2017-261 is the new ‘anti-encampment’ ordinance. The ordinance specifically states, “Encampment means any one or more of the following: (a) The unauthorized use of fabric, metal, cardboard, or other materials as a tent or other temporary structure for living accommodation purposes or human habitation; or (b) The unauthorized use of a heating device; or (c) The unauthorized accumulation of personal property (other than durable medical equipment) that would not fit in a container three feet high, three feet wide, and three feet deep.”

Did you catch all that? No longer are people in Houston allowed to have anything that resembles shelter. Not even cardboard, and certainly not tents. Also, any personal items that you would like to keep cannot be stored in a container that is anything bigger than 3’x3’x3′. And well, sorry, no grills or heaters allowed either. All three of these violations carry the risk of arrest and a fine of up to $500.

Ordinance No. 2017-256 is the new ‘anti-panhandling’ ordinance. Assuming you can’t technically criminalize asking people for money, the city decided instead to limit who has access to our roadways, sidewalks, and streets. What’s really telling about the ordinance is the exemption that allows city employees to solicit charitable contributions via, you guessed it, a roadway! Gotta make sure churches, fire departments and soccer moms can block those roads and take your money. Just don’t be poor and need to do that same thing! This ordinance paired with the Mayor Turner’s new campaign – Meaningful Change; Not Spare Change – will surely hurt the folks who panhandle to get by.

We understand that the city thinks they are helping. It’s obvious that these issues are not easily fixed. There are multiple organizations who are constantly trying to find resources and funding to meet the needs of folks living on the streets. They aren’t just dealing with homelessness, but all of the trauma that led to a person finding themselves without the ability to meet their basic needs. That isn’t exactly a situation that’s easy for anyone to navigate, but criminalizing folks who have limited access to basic things like food and shelter is not the answer. Part of the problem is that we consistently attempt to use law enforcement to fix issues they are not qualified to fix. Half of what makes up these ordinances is detailing what police are allowed to do when people do not comply. You cannot criminalize the poor or mentally ill and expect it to go away. We should demand better of our elected officials, and ourselves for that matter.

For real change to happen in society we have to start humanizing each other. Our values and beliefs are so misguided when it comes to understanding the trauma and marginalization that occurs to the majority of the population under capitalism. And the people who have the real resources to fix these issues that plague our society are the ones who benefit from this bootstraps mentality we so often hear and see. We should work on how we think and talk about the poor in this country, and also why we criminalized them. To truly deal with this issue we don’t just need funding, we need a culture shift; one that moves away from the tired trope that it’s the fault of the poor that they find themselves in such a situation. We are better than this. So try harder to be kind and stop believing what our wealthy overlords are dishing out. We live in the richest country in history, if only there was a way to rid our communities of homelessness and poverty. Oh, wait.

That said, one thing missing from the coverage around these new ordinances is the voices of the people who are most impacted by them. So we spent some time on a rainy Sunday afternoon under the US 59 overpass and listened to anyone willing to share their experience. In an effort to be more in line with our beliefs as a community paper we wanted to dedicate most of the space for this article to those stories, which we’ve compiled into a photo essay below. Out of respect for their privacy, we will only be printing first names.

________

Mikala I’m originally from Dallas, and most of my life was challenging, but I’ve done the best I could. At a young age I went to work at IHOP to help support and raise my younger siblings. I came to Houston a few years ago and was working on being a nurse, a goal I am still committed to. The cost of school was too much and then in a string of bad luck I was caught with a few joints. I spent my birthday in jail because I couldn’t afford bail. The judge sentenced me to probation and now I’m struggling because I can’t leave the county. The training I’ve received as a nurse would be really helpful to my sick grandmother in Dallas, but I can’t get up there to see her. I have never been interested in help or a handout. I just wish people would understand that we are human just like anyone else. And what the city is doing to us is inhumane.

Jay I grew up in Corpus Christi and come from a military family. I have multiple relatives that have served in the Army, Coast Guards and Navy; a tradition I am committed to continuing. Currently I am enrolled at Houston Community College and am close to finishing my GED. After which I am hopeful I can enroll in basic training and work my way up to Sargent in the Army. It’s been extremely challenging being on the streets and working on my degree. My only ID that I have is my HCC one, and if I lose it I don’t have access to any other form of identification. I am working on getting a state ID, but accessing my birth certificate has been difficult. I appreciate what Operation ID is doing to try and help us, but it’s still a long process.

If the city really cared about what happens to us they would do things like bring us water. Instead they spend money to put up fences so we can’t access our tents. Just a few weeks ago I had some issues with the police when they stopped me for jaywalking. If they had taken me to jail like they were threatening it would have impacted my studies. I just hope they realize that sending me to jail isn’t going to help my situation. I am just going to continue to end up on the streets. I agree with Mikala, I am not looking for a handout. I am working on bettering my life, I just think the city should be more understanding of the struggles we face.

Tammy After fleeing an abusive partner in Ohio, I made my way to Houston. I’ve been on the streets for 6 years. I was recently diagnosed with terminal skin cancer and the tent that I live in is saving my life. I don’t think the city understands what they are doing to me and others when they take away our access to shelter and privacy.

I am working with the ACLU on a lawsuit against these new ordinances. Our lawsuit says the city is in violation of the 1st, 4th, 8th and 14th amendments. I am hopeful that the courts will rule in our favor. It is unreasonable to think that we can fit all of our belongings in a space as tiny as 3x3x3.

I am one of the lucky ones though, hopefully next week my paperwork will be finalized and I can move into an apartment. But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep fighting for the family and friends I have made along the way. No one deserves to be criminalized because they found themselves in hard times.

Patrick & Diamond I think the city needs more homeless shelters. There just aren’t enough beds to cover everyone. They also don’t allow pets, so what am I suppose to do with Diamond? I want to give her a good life. Instead the cops just come by and give us warnings, telling us we have to clear out of here. But where are we supposed to go?

Steve I had a good job driving an 18 wheeler and lived in a home off of Collingsworth, but in the last year I lost my job due to an injury I sustained that left me bed ridden with multiple dislocated discs in my back. On top of that, my landlord raised my rent by $250 and I couldn’t afford to stay. The area I was living in has seen a lot of development over the last few years, development that helped push me out. Right now I’m just trying to start over, and the aggression from the city isn’t helping. We need affordable housing, not new ordinances that criminalize people like me and keep us trapped in a system that we can never get out of. We are good people.

Darius & Renesha (Engaged)

Darius Homa, Louisiana is where I was born, but I’ve been in Houston for awhile now. I would like to see the city have more activities to help with housing. I was kicked out of Covenant House five years ago and am still not allowed back. I have tried to get access to identification, but working with Operation ID is a slow process, especially when you have to get a birth certificate from out of state. Having Renesha by my side helps keep me sane. I agree, part of the problem with shelters is that we can’t stay together, and they often times aren’t safe. I would rather be able to be near her and know we can help protect each other.

Renesha I’m a native Texan who grew up in Beaumont. I graduated from Westbrook High School in 2002. After high school I attended Prairieville University where I studied music, but my abusive husband made it difficult for me to continue my studies. I took my babies and left. My children now live with their grandmother while I am trying to get back on my feet. I am very disappointed that the city is criminalizing me. I wish they would stop taking us to jail or mental institutions to hide us from the public. We are human beings, not criminals. They want us to stay in shelters, but I have found them unsafe and prefer to take my chances on the street. Also, I don’t want to be split up from my fiancé, Darius.

I would love to have access to an apartment, but I am worried about the strings attached to accepting help from the same city who is trying to criminalize me. I’m a grown woman, and want to be treated as such. A few rules are understandable, but I just think they are going to try and control my life and that isn’t something I can deal with.

In Their Own Words: Homeless in Houston this is a repost

0 notes

blackkudos · 7 years

Text

Donny Hathaway

Rolling Stone

magazine "marked him as a major new force in soul music." His enduring songs include "The Ghetto", "This Christmas", "Someday We'll All Be Free", "Little Ghetto Boy", "I Love You More Than You'll Ever Know", signature versions of "A Song for You" and "For All We Know", and "Where Is the Love" and "The Closer I Get to You", two of many collaborations with Roberta Flack. "Where Is the Love" won the Grammy Award for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocals in 1973. At the height of his career Hathaway was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and was known to not take his prescribed medication regularly enough to properly control his symptoms. On January 13, 1979, Hathaway's body was found outside the luxury hotel Essex House in New York City; his death was ruled a suicide.

Early life

Career

Liner notes for later releases of his final solo album explain: "Donny is no longer here, but the song "Someday We'll All Be Free" gathers momentum as part of his legacy... Donny literally sat in the studio and cried when he heard the playback of his final mix. It's pretty special when an artist can create something that wipes them out." Edward Howard, lyricist of the song, adds, "It was a spiritual thing for me... What was going through my mind at the time was Donny, because Donny was a very troubled person. I hoped that at some point he would be released from all that he was going through. There was nothing I could do but write something that might be encouraging for him. He's a good leader for young black men".

Personal life

Family

Hathaway met his wife, Eulaulah, at Howard University and they married in 1967. They had two daughters, Eulaulah Donyll (Lalah) and Kenya. Lalah has enjoyed a successful solo career, while Kenya is a session singer and one of the three backing vocalists on the hit TV program American Idol. Both daughters are graduates of the Berklee College of Music.

Mental illness

During the best part of his career, Hathaway began to suffer from severe bouts of depression. It was found that he was suffering from paranoid schizophrenia and was known to take strong medication daily to try to control the illness. However, Eulaulah Hathaway has said that her husband was frequently less than diligent about following his prescription regimen. Donnita Hathaway has said that her mother gave her similar information about her father, saying that when he took his medication, he was generally fine, but that when he did not, it was impossible for her to deal with him. Over the course of the 1970s, Hathaway's mental instability wreaked havoc on his life and required several hospitalizations. The effects of his depression and melancholia also drove a wedge in his and Flack's friendship; they did not reconcile for several years, and did not release additional music until the successful release of "The Closer I Get To You" in 1978. Flack and Hathaway then resumed studio recording to compose a second album of duets.

Death

Hours later, Hathaway was found dead on the sidewalk below the window of his 15th-floor room in New York's Essex House hotel. It was reported that he had jumped from his balcony. The glass had been neatly removed from the window and there were no signs of struggle, leading investigators to rule that Hathaway's death was a suicide. However, his friends were mystified, considering that his career had just entered a resurgence. Flack was devastated and, spurred by his death, included the few duet tracks they had finished on her next album, Roberta Flack Featuring Donny Hathaway. According to Mercury, Hathaway's final recording, included on that album, was "You Are My Heaven", a song Mercury co-wrote with Stevie Wonder.

Hathaway's funeral was conducted by the Reverend Jesse Jackson. Later in 1979, the Whispers recorded the tribute song, "Song for Donny", for their self-titled breakthrough album. The song reached #21 on the R&B chart.

Legacy and influence

A second live album called In Performance, released in 1980 following his death, also included tracks recorded at venues in Los Angeles and New York between 1971 and 1973, showing Hathaway to be a fine stage performer. Later, in 2004, selected tracks from these two albums were added to previously unreleased live recordings for These Songs for You, Live!.

For Record Store Day 2014, Live at the Bitter End 1971 was released on 180g vinyl as a numbered, limited edition. This album marks the first time this 1971 performance at The Bitter End has been released on vinyl, previously appearing on the CD release of the 2013 career anthology, Never My Love. The 21-minute recording of "Everything is Everything" had never been released before on any format and was an exclusive track to this release.

Discography

Studio albumsLive albumsSoundtrack albumsCompilation albumsSingles

With Phil Upchurch