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jinmukangwrites · 4 years

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Whumptober Day 20

Lost

Ao3

Warnings: attempted kidnapping, concussions

-o-o-o-o-

When Dick opens his eyes, he immediately regrets waking up. Everything hurts… like he's just taken on a pride of lions all on his own and had the bruises to prove it. His head especially hurts, more than everything else. So much so, that it's all he can do to keep his balance as he slowly raises himself to his feet, placing his hands on the lip of something metal to keep him steady.

He pants through his nose, trying to make sense of what's going on. His head really really hurts, and every time he tries to think back on what he could have been doing before waking up here in this… alleyway?… pain spikes.

So, instead, he tries to figure out where he is now rather than where he was. First things first, he's in his Robin uniform. That's... that's good. It makes more sense for Robin to wake up with a definite concussion in the middle of some ratty alleyway than it did Dick Grayson.

Next things next, he's wet. Like. Soaked. Which is understandable considering it's raining and he's currently inside a dumpster—leaning against the walls. His bare legs are smeared with foul smelling juices, and his cape is a solid ten pounds heavier thanks towards the water. He leans his shoulder against the side of the dumpster and searches through his utility belt for his communicator, but when he finds the blocky device and pulls it out, he's disappointed to find it crushed. Little wires poke out of cracked plastic like vines splitting a rock.

He stuffs the broken communicator back into the belt and inhales sharply through his mouth. His head’s still pounding, and it doesn't feel like it will stop anytime soon. He needs to… figure out what's going on and find Bruce. Bruce doesn't like it when Dick's not by him.

Dick doesn't like it when he's not by Bruce either.

He takes in a few more breathes, preparing himself to fight through what will probably most likely be a very uncomfortable experience. Before he can change his mind, he tightens his grip on the lip of the dumpster and hefts himself over the edge.

He hits the cracked asphalt on the other side hard. He just manages to keep his feet under him as his skull pulses like the seven dwarfs were trapped inside, causing his stomach to plead for rebellion as the only thing he's aware of for a few moments is how he can feel the world spinning.

Once he's pretty sure he isn't going to keel over and throw up, he lets go of the dumpster and begins to study his surroundings. It looks like any old alleyway in Gotham. Long, dark, covered in trash and puddles. He risks light-headedness to look up, but all he finds is a cracked gargoyle staring off from the corner of one of the tall buildings making the alley.

He has… no idea where he is. If he could climb up and get a rooftop view of his surroundings, he should be able to at least pinpoint where the police department is—because Bruce told him to always pay attention to the police department, and if Dick was ever alone and needed help, he should find Jim Gordon. But… looking up makes him dizzy. The thought of climbing up to the rooftops makes him dizzy.

It's probably best he searches by foot.

Step one is leaving the alleyway.

He looks down both ends, and neither look that exciting or familiar. He curls his sopping wet cape around his shoulders and slowly begins to walk down a random direction. He only realizes that he chose the direction the gargoyle was facing when he catches it in the corners of his eyes.

Bruce likes the gargoyles.

Dick decides this should be a good direction, then.

When he reaches the end of the alleyway, he finds himself walking onto the cracked sidewalk lining a narrowed street caged by buildings that definitely look like they've been around since seventeen hundreds. There's no signs on any of the buildings, and the street names are worn down and spray painted over. If Dick had to give a guess on where he was, he'd say it's probably somewhere in the Theater District. There's no other place in Gotham that's as ratty and disgusting even on the streets where civilian's live.

He just… needs to find a payphone. Or at least a place he recognizes. He's come into the Theater District enough times, more than any other neighborhood in Gotham, in the times he's been fighting crime with Batman.

Even if it hasn't been for very long…

"Okay, Robin," he whispers to himself as he brings a hand to his temple to rub at the migraine, "you can do this…"

He turns right and goes to take a step, but then suddenly a voice calls out.

And it doesn't sound like a friendly voice.

Dick spins on his heel to look behind him—which makes him dizzy but he's just able to ignore it. His eyes immediately latch onto a group of men, some standing and some sitting with interested faces on the doorsteps of a run down home, sheltering from the rain under a little overhang, each with a cigarette hanging on almost limp fingers or at the corners of their mouths.

"Oh shit, it is Robin," one man sneers, bringing the cigarette from his mouth and huffing.

"Where's the bat?" Another man asks, sounding nervous. "They say the kid's never without the bat…"

Dick swallows and takes a weary step back as someone steps out from under the overhang with a grin on their face. "He's here…" Dick says, trying to sound brave. His voice wobbles against his will through, and he's not sure if it's from the sudden fear of being alone, faced against what must be five men each bigger, meaner, and stronger than himself… or if it was simply because of the cold rain that still poured. "So- so stay away and we won't have any… any reason to hurt you-"

"Look at him shake in those little shoes," someone laughs, joining the first man out in the rain. "He's all alone."

And Dick knows right then that he has to get away. Like. Now. These people… they didn't look friendly. Dick can't fight them, he can barely stand. If they catch him, who knows what they'll do to him. Little kids go missing in Gotham all the time… sent to horrible places Bruce doesn't want him to know about yet because he's too little.

Now all the men are out in the rain, the smoke of their cigarettes leaving a snake's tail behind them as the rain pelts against the foul smelling flame. They pick up speed, grinning maniacally… and Dick runs.

He turns heel, his breath catching in his throat and his head spinning, and runs.

Everything hurts, and his body doesn't want to move the way he needs it to. It's all he can do to duck under a grabbing hand and dodge into another alleyway. The people are hot on his heels though, even as he forces himself to run faster. He's… he's scared. His heart is in his chest and he's so cold and he just wants to cuddle up in his bed and cry.

In a split second of dangerous desperateness, Dick grabs onto his grapple and aims it towards a fire escape placed above him. He presses the trigger, preparing himself for how much this is going to suck with his concussion and nausea, but as he's about to launch upwards, something violently tugs on his neck. Dick watches in horror as the grapple flys onwards without him. He has just a split second of true despair before he's jerked back and tossed to the rough ground by the fabric of his cape.

His knees and hands scrape painfully on the asphalt, causing various cuts to open up and weep pink into the water. His neck hurts, his head spins, and he's shaking from exhaustion and fear. He tries to scramble to his feet, but then large arms wrap around his middle, pinning his arms to his side, and dragging him up so his legs kick in midair, his back pressed against someone's chest. He can smell tobacco. He can hear laughter cutting through the pounding in his heart.

"Let go!" Dick shouts, doing everything he can to choke down cries. He struggles in the grasp and kicks out his legs, but nothing works. He goes to scream at them, but one arm transfers from his chest towards his mouth and he's effectively hand-gagged.

And now he can't keep back a sob. It's all so awful. The people are all laughing and sneering while they drag him back further and further into the alley.

And for a moment, Dick thinks that this is when it will happen. This is when Bruce will swoop in and save him.

He looks up towards the rooftops, and all he finds are uselessly staring gargoyles.

Bruce isn't... coming? Dick is alone. If he wants out of this… he has to do it himself.

Which is so much easier to say that it is to do. The hand on his mouth presses harshly against his jaw, which only serves to make his skull pound worse. His limbs feel so weak to where he can only wiggle in the arms holding him captive. His kicking isn't doing anything. He's so small and light—even for an 8 year old—that his struggling is basically useless.

What can he do- what can he do?

His fingers brush on his utility belt and he almost stills. That's right, he has more things than a broken communicator and a missing grapple. Dick's not very good yet at thinking ahead and keeping track of all the tools Bruce gave him. There's so much to remember… but now he thinks… he might just be able to do something.

Which is better than giving up here and now.

"I have a buddy who works for Riddler," one man says excitingly. "Maybe we can hook up and sell the brat."

"I have some rope at my place…" another puts in. And while being the Riddler's hostage isn't exactly the worst thing in the world—much better than Joker or Scarecrow that's for sure—Dick isn't exactly eager to be put in any death traps that are riddle encrypted.

So, even as his head spins and his body shakes with both fear, adrenalin, and the cold rain, he forces himself to take in a deep breath of air through his nose before grabbing at the small, round cylinders hidden inside his belt.

He pulls them out, and before anyone can say or do anything, he presses one of the buttons.

He closes his eyes, and he knows the flash bombs have worked the moment the people around him all yell and the arms around him drop. He plummets to his feet and just manages to not faceplant by throwing his scraped up hands out in front of him. Before the flash can dim or anyone does anything, he jumps to his feet and forces his legs to move as quick as he can pump him.

He runs. And runs. And he doesn't stop, even as he blinks tears out of his eyes and gasps for breath.

He turns a random corner, as he has done several times before during this night, but he's immediately met by a solid wall of flesh. Large hands fall to his shoulders and he panics.

"Stop! Let go!" Dick throws his fists out but his wrists are immediately grabbed. Dick hiccups and struggles, even as the shadowed person tightens their hands around his arms and ignores his shouting.

Dick can't do this anymore tonight. He's so tired. A sob tears through his mouth and his legs give out. He can't he can't he can't he can't-

"Chum, calm down-" a graveled voice says, and Dick freezes like he's just been doused with a bucket of ice.

Dick… he knows that voice. Sobbing and kneeling on the soaked ground, his wrists still in tight holds, Dick opens his eyes to get a better look at his new captor.

He recognizes the jaw. The clothes. The cowl. The eyes.

Bruce.

Somehow, the realization just makes him cry harder. Only, this time, instead of trying to escape, he flings himself forward and wraps his arms around Bruce's neck the second Bruce lets go of his wrists. His throat feels clogged and snot is probably running down his nose, but he's so relieved to finally be safe. He buries his head into the crook of Batman's jaw and clutches.

Safe. He's safe.

And he thinks somewhere at the back of his mind that he shouldn't feel so safe. He's only known Bruce for a couple of months… have only been Robin for a little less.

But when Bruce finally relaxes and wraps his arms around Dick, lifting him up in a way that's so gentle and caring compared to the men who tried to kidnap him… safe is all he can think about.

Bruce speaks softly, his voice rumbling through his chest like a cat's purr, explaining that he tried his best to find Dick earlier, and that he didn't mean to take so long. He mentions something about Poison Ivy but Dick's too tired and relieved to care. His skull still pounds. He can bug Bruce later on details, figure out why he woke up in a dumpster with a concussion and no memory of how he got there.

He just holds on tighter, shaking his head when Bruce asks why he's so upset.

"I want to go home," Dick gasps through a wet sob, and Bruce stiffens all over again.

Home. Has Dick… ever thought of the manor as home before?

Before he can panic and take back the word, Bruce tightens his embrace around Dick's body and huffs. "Okay… let's go… home. We can talk later."

Dick can only nod and try to quiet his ongoing hiccupping sobs as Bruce begins to walk away. He wants to fall asleep now, especially with the adrenaline falling, but Bruce notices the concussion and forces him to stay awake until the Batmobile comes to a stop in the cave and Alfred checks him over.

He goes to bed immediately then, and when he wakes up in the morning he finds Bruce had taken the day off from work. He doesn't ask questions on why Dick was so upset the night before. He just smiles and holds up a pair of car keys.

"Zoo?"

Dick grins back, even though the concussion still hurts and will probably hurt for a long time.

But at least he's safe.

At least he's found, and he has a feeling Bruce won't let him get lost ever again. Not on his watch.

"Let me grab my shoes!"

He runs back upstairs, his mouth hurting from smiling while Bruce lets out a genuine laugh behind him.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #nighting #batman #dick grayson is robin #dc #dc comics #batman comics #fic #fanfiction #jin writes #whumptober2020 #no.20 #lost #it ends in hugs i promise

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cleverbxrd · 4 years

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What Were You Expecting?

WHO: Dick Grayson / @cxrcusbxrd , Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd / @rxdshood , Ra’s al Ghul MENTIONED: Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Talia al Ghul WORD COUNT: 4,141 LOCATION: Ra’s’ current evil hidey-hole THE BASICS: Two Birds (and a Bat) walk into a secret League of Assassins base... TW: Comic/Action Movie Level Violence, Slight Trauma, Injury, Murderous Intent, Past Death Mention, Deus Ex Grayson

DICK: None of this was easy. Nothing about having to rescue a member of their family, their little dysfunctional clan, was remotely easy. It had taken them this long to even find out a possible place where Tim had been taken to, and even then something felt very off. Maybe it was uncharted territory, maybe it was the fact that he'd told Jason to lead the charge alone, call him over com if he couldn't find anything. The seconds were ticking away, and he wasn't keeping as strict a timer as he felt he should. Nightwing was currently on lookout duty, guarding their secretly made entryway into the compound, looking out for what he could only assume were ninja, assassins, that Ra's had employed on monitor duty. No one in or out, sounded on par. Luckily he hadn't run into anyone he needed to crack the skulls of, but even that put him on edge. It was like the Demon's Head was just waiting for them. If Steph hadn't been enough of a warning, this eerie silence while he waited for his younger brother's call... Ah Hell, Jason wasn't going to get back to him, not like this. Guy was probably looking for the source. Who could blame him? They were all reckless, very much to their own faults. If they wanted to be smart about this, though, they couldn't take the direct path to the one who started it all. Maybe a crash-course in their strategy would've been effective. Dick had to stop himself in his mental tracks. Relinquishing lead was hard, but he trusted Jason, trusted his instincts. They'd both been trained by the same guy... So why was he so damn nervous?

Maybe it was the fact that he felt someone's eyes on him in the fraction of a second he'd had a momentary panic about weather or not they were approaching this entire situation correctly (and really, who's going to say if it was right or wrong? Sometimes you have to call a shit-ton of audibles). Dick's white-lensed eyes squinted into the darkness, a hairline trigger activating infrared to see if he could really find who he was sure was watching him, watching them. It didn't take long before he reached behind his shoulders to pull the electrified escrima sticks from his back, settling into an all too familiar low defensive stance. If there was one thing he was sure of he wasn't going to take this impromptu mission any less seriously than his more 'normal', less paranoia-inducing ones. I'm getting my brother back.

"I know you're out there," He finally called out, the weapons crackling to life with charged light, just barely illuminating the small area that he stood his ground. "Show yourself!"

BRUCE: The boys were doing what the boys did, ignore his orders and get themselves into trouble. It was an old song and dance by now, one he had hoped they already knew the steps to, though he supposed that their urgency, their panic, blinded them to the inevitability of it all.

Did they truly think they would go on a rescue mission without him finding out? That he would really allow them to charge headfirst into Ra’s hands without him having a say in it? He didn’t know if that reflected poorly on him or proved that as grown as they were his sons were all still boys in the end.

Bruce perched atop the roof, his brow furrowed underneath his cowl as his planted device hummed, an EMP knocking out the motion sensors throughout the grounds before the bat took a running leap to glide closer to his target, Dick.

He landed with a dull thud, his jaw clenched as he stood to his full height.

“You’re jumpy,” Bruce said simply, his attention turning to the ‘Thwip’ of two guards being lifted and secured behind Dick’s back, “and sloppy. I was under the impression you two were conducting a stealth mission.”

DICK: Ah. Shit.

Hi dad. Er, second dad. The dad that didn't bother to adopt him officially until he'd been well past Ward status.

Still, the familiar sight of a bat-eared cowl did nothing to prevent the squinted lenses from narrowing further, the stance he'd taken relaxing only a fraction. He was still on edge, still on high alert. Bruce was good, as he always was, and caught him off guard. Sloppy.

He didn't need to be told twice, less-than-happy flashbacks of hours on hours of training popping in and out of subconsious memory... this wasn't the time to be reminiscing on weather or not you actually wanted to give the old man the argument of a lifetime.

"It was," Nightwing sighed, absently twirling one of the lightened sticks in his hand. "But something tells me it's a bit hard to be stealthy against literal ninja." Assassins, same difference. Squaring his blue-lined shoulders, the former sidekick faced his mentor with a grimace. "How the hell did you find us, Bruce?"

BRUCE: Bruce fought the urge to roll his eyes at Dick's tense posture. He was glad he was on guard, they always had to be in these situations, but a bigger part of him wanted to scold him for following Jason into this suicide mission without backup, without him.

Tim was his ward, his robin, his son. He needed to be here.

For more reason than one, given the boys lack of forethought.

He simply hummed in acknowledgement. He could dissect their plan at a later date. Tonight was about getting their boy back.

"There are trackers imbedded into the fabric of your suit." He answered plainly. Dick didn't need to know about the trackers he had on Jason, nor the ones he had in the very sticks he held in his hands. A bat needed some secrets, after all.

"Come on, there are guards to the north that we need to clear out for our escape route."

DICK: Maybe it was the fact that he'd been on edge ever since Tim had gone missing without a trace. Maybe it was years of pent up aggression that he'd never fully let himself come to term with. Maybe it was the fact that he was still being treated like a sidekick. There were reasons Dick had made the jump to Bludhaven, then New York; He had to get out of The Shadow. Easier said than done, apparently

"Track-?" The hushed word fell short as his eyes suddenly went wide, looking down at the no-doubt invisibly weaved nanotech. God damnit, Bruce. "... You..." Seething, he hissed through clenched teeth instead of finding the right word. Of course he would've slipped up on that minor detail in his blind rage, the sudden need he had to bring his brother out here and bring Ra's to justice. No doubt, he was getting a full mission report after this, as if it wasn't his own, Jason's own, mission to carry out.

Still... Having one of the best in the biz probably wasn't the worst thing in the world. With the Batman, this mission could take less time than he was sure it would've taken them. Hell, he hadn't heard the signal yet. With a bit of time, he was sure he'd hear that familiar tweet. He really hoped so anyway.

"Fine," Nightwing huffed, semi-reluctantly dropping his head. "You'd better be prepared. This creep's been waiting for this for ages."

~~~

JASON: There was something unnerving about any and all League bases to Jason. It made his skin crawl and feel the urge to turn tail and run as fast as he could away. A child turned into a weapon, blood staining hands that couldn't be washed away now. Some for people deserving of it, some for those perhaps that didn't, but it was too late to try to attempt to feel remorse now. If he even did at all. It was apart of him now, a way of life he had come to accept and wasn't something he shied away from. Memories from this part of his life were broken at best, flashes of memories he could vaguely recall. Hands around the throat of someone he had been ordered to kill, the offense unclear, but the order firm, the anxiety bubbling up. Too intimate, too much, too close. Finishing the job and resolutely deciding silently from then on killing from a distance was mandatory. Maybe there was some psychology behind Jason's decision to choose guns as his primary choice of a weapon, but that wasn't something he ever really wanted to get into.

For now, Jason had to push away the anxiety and insistent jagged memories to push forward, steel himself to do what he came to do. Save Tim, bring Tim home. Dick had told him to lead the charge, be the leader for once. Jason hadn't really known what to do with that other than take the reigns and push forward, take the information they knew and act. It had been long enough, far too long, and they were getting their little brother back.

Things were quiet. Too quiet. It only added to the anxiety that stayed firmly building in Jason's chest he refused to show, thankful for the helmet that hid any and all facial expressions that might slip through the ever so diligent Bat training. Winding halls and diverting from any potential hiccups. Naturally, a few heads were knocked together, silencer on his gun as he shot to take incapacitate—not kill. No matter how much he wanted to put the bullet through the assassins' eyes rather than a knee.

Inching further along, Jason got to where he intended. Not Tim, no. Ra's al Ghul. "Love what you've done with the place, Ra's. A lot more spooky chic than you had before. I'm sure Talia would hate it." The younger man hummed, a few quick shots sending the remaining assassins in the room sprawling out on the floor. "Don't worry, nothing a few surgeries can't do to fix them right up. Or do you prefer to put them down? Memory's a bit spotty from when I was here last time." He sneered under the helmet, gun trained on the man in question now—though silently he was unsure if this was a genius plan or completely idiotic. Probably the latter.

"My brother. I want him back. I'm not leaving without him."

RA’S: Ra's was no fool. He hadn't expected the Bat clan to simply roll over and accept that Timothy was out of their reach now. Many of Bruce Wayne's children had ended up under Ra's care over the years, before or after meeting the billionaire: Jason, Damian, Stephanie, Cassandra.

One would think that eventually, Bruce would get better at keeping them out of his hands. But getting to Tim had been easy.

Keeping him was bound to be a bit trickier, so Ra's had called in some reinforcements. One could never be too careful. Loading the board visibly wouldn't be much of a deterrent but would show his hand, so instead Ra's had kept the halls of this hideaway under their normal guard--at least, as far as could be seen. Timothy was locked away deeper into the complex , accompanied by a handful of men under orders to put a bullet in the boy's head before letting him be taken back.

He'd never professed not to be possessive.

Jason came charging into the chamber where Ra's was waiting, and the ancient assassin didn't even blink as his men dropped with groans around him. Nor was he particularly bothered by having a gun leveled at his face.

"Well, since you're asking--yes, I would prefer you aim for their heads in the future. Saves me the work," Ra's answered calmly, taking a step in Jason's direction. The man's demand earned an amused scoff. "Ah. Well, then, I'm afraid you won't be leaving. Timothy will be staying with me. You're welcome to request visits." Ra's smiled, icily. "I do so miss having you around, al'ahmar. You were very entertaining." Ra's reached up to his own throat, unclasping his cape and laying it over a chaise in passing.

"Now, where is your father? I do prefer dealing with the one in charge. Smoothes the process. And I know they didn't trust you to run it, not their little stray bird."

Ra's smirked. "Did Grayson tell you, by the way? That you and dear Timothy have a new shared experience?"

JASON: Jason always could feel the oncomings of his pit rage. It had taken a good few years to be able to do just that. At first, it was uncontrollable. He lashed out at so many of the men that worked for Talia and destroyed a hotel room once in a fit of rage upon finding out he had been replaced. Now his said replacement was someone he considered his little brother and wouldn't be leaving without. If he wouldn't be leaving then so be it. As long as Tim left.

Jason snarled under the helmet and could feel the haze creeping forward in his head, if his eyes were visible he was sure they'd flash an even more eery shade of green than they had been changed to from the pit effects. Every word that left Ra's mouth only fueled and poked at the fire. "He's not my father," a reflect, venom dripping from the four words. "You get me. No big bat or other birds to play babysitter. I don't do so well without supervision, I hear."

Jason didn't see red. No, he saw green, and in an instant he surged forward and whipped the gun across the older man's face. He shoved it back into his thigh holster as his other gloved hand closed around Ra's throat. He wanted his blood to paint the walls, to see him choke on his own blood and die slowly. The urge to do what he could to finish him clawed at his chest violently. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking watch you choke on your blood and step on your throat to make it even more agonizing. To put you in a fucking body bag would be a goddamn dream come true!"

RA'S: Jason was so very easy to get under the skin of. He had died scared and angry and came back scared and angrier, the former beaten out until all that was left was rage. Ra's knew better than anyone else on Earth what the Pit could do to the mind, the way its haze could seep through the mind and obscure all but the urge to tear people apart. He'd had centuries to adjust.

Jason had not--he was a constantly ticking time bomb. And Ra's enjoyed prodding at him to set him off. "Oh, my. You still hold a grudge about being replaced, and yet you're here to retrieve your replacement. Interesting choice. But then, you never were the bright one."

It was, of course, the mention of what he'd done to Timothy that set the man off fully, and even Ra's had to concede that Jason was fast. The blow to the face stung, but Jason shoved his gun away as quickly as it'd come out, opting for more up-close fighting.

Poor choice.

Ra's let the man tighten his grip, brought both arms up between them so his forearms were against the man's shoulders, and then hooked his leg around Jason's and pushed, sending them both to the ground.

He snapped an arm up to deliver a sharp elbow to the chin, and then used the momentum to snap the same arm back against the one with the grip on his throat, hitting the crook of Jason's elbow to loosen his hold.

"You know better than to think you can beat me, let alone kill me, al'ahmar. But I won't deny the pleasure of a fight if that's what you insist on--it'd bring me no greater pleasure than to have Bruce Wayne know that I took you from him again. One more dip in the Pit, and maybe the madness doesn't stay back." His own eyes flared with that poisonous shade of green.

"You won't kill me, even if you could. He'd be dead before you ever got your hands on him."

JASON: Jason's head jerked up and he tasted blood immediately, likely from biting down on his tongue. The minor pain was nothing compared to the burn that was spreading through him as he fell into his Pit induced rage. His arm buckled, fingers loosening around Ra's' throat. That only served to piss him off further. He was literally rolling in the dirt with Ra's al Ghul. His life was a joke, but whatever the cost. He'd get Tim out of this. Even if he didn't—

"I didn't know you were in the business of making balloon animals now, al Ghul. You're taking credit for a clown's handiwork. Do you prefer Boo Boo the Fool or Chuckles?" Jason spat out through the voice modulator of his helmet, bringing a knee up to connect with any body part he could reach, gain some traction. Maybe he wasn't the best at hand to hand combat compared to the other birds, but he wasn't bad at it by any means. He also had size on his side, more muscles and height than the others did to use to his advantage.

The hand that loosened from Ra's throat snapped up to shove palm up at his nose hard and fast, disorient him any way he could. "Maybe I won't, but I do know I'll make it hurt like hell before you can even think to get your grubby paws on him again. Where do you prefer your stab wounds? You know what? I'll surprise you!" In the scuffle of their bodies, Jason whipped his knife out of his belt and slashed at his torso.

RA'S: A clown? Really. Ra's felt his anger ratchet up another notch at the mockery, hissing out between his teeth as Jason's knee collided with his ribs. The younger man wasn't much for technique, but he was strongly built, and even stronger when the Pit started pressing its way forward. Ra's could take blows from your average man with barely a shrug, but Jason, despite not being particularly skilled as Grayson and Damian were, could land some stinging blows.

"He put you down the first time," Ra's grunted, just barely managing to avoid the blow at his nose, "but I'll be happy to do it the second go round. But I took you from Bruce in the ways that matter, didn't I? Seeing you dead was one thing, seeing you a killer was another. Does he still look at you like you're someone else?"

Jason's threats were nothing. What was pain to a man who'd lived as many lifetimes as Ra's, who'd been hurt and killed and brought back more times than he cared to count? Ra's would always come back. Jason Todd would die and stay dead the next time he went down. Jason grabbed at a knife, swiped at his side, and the blade sliced through cloth and skin like it was so much paper, even as Ra's started to roll off the man. The ancient assassin snarled, and drew a dagger of his own as he got to his feet, ignoring the crimson that started to paint the side of his robes. His own eyes were the same poisonous green as Jason's now, the Pit rearing to the forefront at the drawing of blood. "The only one who can set your brother free is me, Todd. My men will end his life before you get a foot through the door if I don't give the order. And you think you can make me? You're even stupider than I gave you credit for."

JASON: The younger man was entirely too thrilled in seeing the old man get irritated by his poking and prodding. Jason knew one of his assets was his ability to piss people off purely by speaking. Maybe it was reckless to get the already rage filled man angry, but it was his job after all. He was only doing what he was supposed to, lead the charge. If that had some consequences...oh well. At least they'd be getting Tim back. He wasn't leaving until they did.

The words had Jason biting his tongue, the blow landing as he was sure it was intended. He practically snarled. "What can I say? I've always been the black sheep of the family. Even before the whole 'Jason, this isn't the way!' shtick he was on." He pushed himself to his feet and flipped his knife in his hand, letting out a pleased chuckle to see the red staining the assassin's robes. "I'm sure you can get that out with a little scrubbing. Nothing a little elbow grease can't do. You do know how to do that, right? Manual labor?" Even with the helmet, he was visibly bored. He was angry, but then again, he was always angry. He was good at putting a front, lying was easy, especially for a bat. Might as well poke and prod some more while he was at it.

The stupid remark made Jason's jaw tic and he only laughed. "I didn't need to make you do anything, al Ghul. I just had to distract you." There was a pause and Jason let out a Robin call, the signal to Dick. The signal all Robins knew. "How's it feel being played by someone you think is stupid?" He sneered and immediately pushed forward, slashing out with his knife once more.

RA'S: The jab seemed to land as intended, judging by the moment of silence that preceded the sharp-toned reply lobbed his way. It had never been hard to get under Jason's skin, and it certainly wasn't hard now that the Pit ran through his veins.

Unfortunately, that same Pit had amped up Jason's speed, too. Ra's glowered at the taunts. "Don't you condescend to me, boy. You know nothing of work." Ra's took a step closer, feinted for a stab at the man's side before swiping for his throat beneath the helmet.

I just had to distract you. Ra's eyes narrowed for a moment before he recognized what the call was, and then he sneered, retreating back as his gaze flicked around the room for evidence of the imminent arrival of the rest of the little flock. "Needed a babysitter after all, did we, Todd? Wise of them not to trust you to manage this yourself. Now why don't you go run along while I deal with the grown ups, hm?"

DICK: "Who're you calling grown up?"

The quip was too easy to let loose, even though every bone in his body refused to add any humor behind it. The blue bird stood just behind Jason, hidden partially in the shadows while he approached the apparently on-going fight. He was putting a stop to that, stopping the recklessness of his younger brother... From doing exactly what he would be doing too. "You're pretty twisted if you think both of us wouldn't come for Tim, Ra's." Not to mention the big bad Bat doing all the hard work in the background. Granted, he'd upped security tenfold for this kind of invasion. Clearly, they didn't keep quiet about their invasion. That would be something they'd be scolded for later... Well, himself, mostly. Just one look out of the corner of his eye looked like Jason would be laid up in Alfred's infirmary for a bit... And he didn't even want to think about how bad Tim had it.

"Don't even think about following me," Dick sneered, the white lenses of his mask thinning in his hard squint, moving to hook an arm quickly around the back of Jason's shoulders, attempting to not topple over from the sudden transfer of weight. He was hit that was for sure now. He didn't have time to assess, but they needed to get back to Gotham stat. The glowing stick in one hand, he tapped the non-electrified end against his hip, two black marbles bouncing onto the floor. Without looking down, the vigilante placed his heel on top of the two, drawing his teeth back in a final animalistic sneer. "And don't fuck with my family."

Just the barest transfer of weight had the two spheres busting open under his foot, thick smoke filling the area where the two Robins once stood. Dick was sure this was one of the oldest 'ninja' tricks in the book, that they'd be easily tracked, but that would have to wait for worrying later. It took adrenaline and effort, but he was running with the intent to save. This time, he wouldn't be stopped.

No Robins left behind, he thought, breaching through to the rendezvous point, nearly letting tears loose when he saw the other retrieved bird being hoisted into transport. Never again.

#discord tag tbd

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ironbloodaika · 7 years

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What are your top 10 superheroines and why?

I normally don’t do Top 10′s since I suck at narrowing things down, but I just can’t say no to you. XD I’ll give this a shot. These lovely ladies won’t be in any individual order of preference. I’ll just summarize what I like both about their looks and characters.

Harley Quinn: In recent years Harley’s proven to be a hero in her own right, thanks to shaking off the grip of the Joker’s influence. Harley’s a very sweet and fun character, bringing a lot of joy and color into otherwise dark stories, but not without some craziness to make her out of place in the setting. Her outfits and personality are adorable and she’s very affectionate to those she loves, plus she’s one of those characters who’s had a WIDE range of costumes, but each works since Harley’s traits are so defined, you never have difficulty picking her from a crowd.

Batgirl: Another lovely lady from Gotham’s night life I was introduced to by the Batman Animated Series. I was especially a fan of her depiction in the final seasons were she became more of a main part of the team (being voiced by the ever awesome Tara Strong didn’t hurt). XD She kicks in all her finery, heels and red hair blazing. I liked how she had her own relationship with Batman as opposed to the Robin’s as she herself joined the fight against crime instead of being recruited. She listened to Batman because of his experience and training, but wasn’t beholden to him either, but never let anything like ego get in the way of saving the day or from speaking her mind and using her skills. Also LOVED how in SBFF she was a total fangirl for Batman...the Frank Miller-esque Batman. The difference in design is hilarious!

Wonder Woman: A character I really didn’t get to know until the Justice League cartoon, since the Super Friends version was rather bland in character. She really earned her spot among the Trinity. She’s not just gorgeous with a body that shows quite a bit of muscle, but she’s also able to go toe-to-toe with people in Superman’s league and doesn’t have any issue getting her hands dirty or fighting dirty if the situation calls for it. I also liked a trait in the comics that, sadly, hasn’t been as well depicted in the cartoons, is her compassion. She’s someone who’s just as willing to offer someone a helping hand as she is willing to lay down a smackdown. She manages to walk the line of a kick-ass warrior and someone who favors peace without breaking stride.

Supergirl: Another I owe to the DCAU. I liked her style and design and the friendship she had with Barbara and the family she made with Superman and the Kents. And I’m kinda cheating with combining her with the SBFF version too, but I liked her muscles and curves. :3 So hot! But back to personality I liked how she both wanted to be her own hero and not just be seen as Superman’s cousin, but was also proud to be a part of the family and wore his hero crest with pride.

Raven: I didn’t notice her at first when the show first started (my eyes were first drawn to Starfire) but as time went on I saw her as more than just a ‘goth’ character I starting to see more of in fiction. Unlike a lot of goth characters at the time, Raven was never really a bitch or jerk to the team. She was a little guarded and quiet, but she still considered them friends and had no issue being friends with them. There’s a very nice bit of subtle changes to her design as the series goes on, with her wearing her hood up less and less when hanging with her friends outside of battles. She becomes more open with them, smiling and laughing with their shenanigans (most of the time). And as TTG showed us QUITE a bit, she’s got a LOT to like under that cloak. :3

Starfire: She was the first I noticed mostly through her looks. While her outfit wasn’t as revealing as her comics outfit, it was still a huge shock to someone used to Supergirl and Batgirl’s style of dress. That said I learned to see more to the character than looks and really enjoyed how sweet and emotional she was. She wasn’t a push over by any means, she was just someone who truly and honestly loved her friends and would do anything to help them out or keep them happy. That sorta genuine affection is rare and pretty adorable. She’s the kind of person we all wish we had in life. Also I found her attitude towards love, sex, and relationships (in the early comics at least before the reboot) to be pretty mature and showing she clearly understands the concepts which a lot of people have a hard time grasping (even helping out Raven understanding her own feelings ont he subject).

Empowered: An original hero of @adamwarrencomics creations, I discovered her from some art I came across on Deviantart. I gotta be honest, when I first saw the previews and read the book summary, I bought the first issue thinking it was just gonna be some light fan-service and parody. Thankfully I was wrong about that. The shallow bit that is. While the story doesn’t shy away from EMP, her body, or her relationship with her boyfriend time and again, it never does it in a way you could call crude or exploitative. It all flows naturally with the narrative that follows her life as a hero, both in the field and at home. You really feel for the girl and her struggle to be a hero and the constant shit her so-called “co-workers” and even random civvies give her. You just wanna give her a hug. But not because she’s gorgeous or anything, but because you honestly believe in her. You know she can be a kick-ass superhero and know she can prove those jack-asses wrong. And with every issue you see her overcoming each obstructed in her way and becoming more and more self-assured and effective as a hero. It also helps when you see she’s one of the few heroes without any showboating tendencies. She helps others from a desire to genuinely help and do good.

Artemis: Husky voice, blonde hair, tan skin, pony-tail, muscles, and abs you could grate cheese on. :3 Pure 10 out of 10 on the looks scale. :3 Now for character I like Artemis cause she’s very different from other superheroines in that she’s much more in your face and not one to take shit from people. Now to some people that means to be an asshole or be the only one making decisions, but for her it just means not letting others speak for her and to let other walk over her. A lot of people seemed to not like her for that reason (despite praising guy characters for literally the same thing) but I really liked it. Tough girls kick ass. And when you know about her history, her attitude makes sense. When you’re raised by a mentally, physically, and verbally abusive asshole who wants to mold you into a side-kick for his merc business, you’d want to stick it to the guy by doing good and making your atoner mom proud. With that sorta determination, you’re not gonna take any new-gal hazing. XD But that said, she was also nice and considered the others her friends, even if it was rough goings at first, to the point she was willing to reveal VERY personal information to them, rather than be blackmailed. VERY nice change of pace from the standard tropes in fiction.

Huntress: Another hard-nosed hottie with a thing for arrows, I was introduced to her with Justice League Unlimited. I really felt for the character. The daughter of a mob boss who was murdered along with her mother in front of her by one of their subordinates. It’s not hard to see her trying to get her revenge on the SOB, even if it means getting kicked out of the Justice League and taking on Black Canary and Green Arrow to do it. While she does eventually make the right call, I honestly found myself rooting for her at times because you really felt for her. But at least she got a nice relationship with The Question out of all of it and it was one of the most adorable pairings in the entire show. She was willing to kick some MAJOR ass to keep him safe and it took Superman to reign her in from straight up killing people. Not in the comics I think. Also, them legs and that AB WINDOW. What is it with girls with arrows and having killer abs? XD

Uravity/Froppy: Bit of a tie since I like them both. Froppy is adorable and is blunt and honest without being a bitch, a trap that befalls most characters. She’s sweet to her friends and is willing to put her life on the life for them no questions asked. She was seconds away from a literal Touch of Death, but spent what would have been her last moments trying to get her friend away from getting crushed to death. Also if her and Attea have taught me anything, frog-girls are fucking adorable. Dem legs and dat ass. :3 As for Uravity she is SUCH a breath of fresh air for anime female leads. She’s not a Tsundere Bitch to the lead and is nothing but a compassionate and supporting friend to Deku, even after just meeting him once. She feels guilty that her goals for being a hero aren’t as altruistic as the others, but are still noble in that she hopes to get enough money to give her parents an easy life after a life time of back-breaking labor. She’s just a very supportive character always pushing herself to get better and really showing some great character in doing so. Plus who doesn’t love that adorable blush of hers and that bit of thickness on her. :3 Very nice. XD

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evenstevensranked · 7 years

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#25: Season 1, Episode 12 - “Deep Chocolate”

LET THE TOP 25 COMMENCE!!!

Louis and Twitty’s friendship is put to the test when they end up competing against each other in the school chocolate sale. Meanwhile, Ren has made a deal with her parents to be nice to Louis for a week in order to get her own phone line.

This one opens with Ren giving a presentation to Steve and Eileen on why she deserves her own phone line. Yes, phone line. As in... a LANDLINE. Crazy how today she probably would’ve already had her own iPhone since the ripe ‘ol age of 8! But, yes. It’s 2000 and Ren wants her own landline in her bedroom.

Louis interrupts the presentation by running through the kitchen like a tornado and Ren naturally starts complaining about him. That’s when Eileen gets the smart idea to give Ren some incentive “If you can not put your brother down for a whole week, we will give you your own phone line.” Good idea, tbh.

Cut to school where Louis, Twitty and Tawny are in the auditorium for a chocolate sale assembly. This is one of my favorite bits ever omg. A rip-off of the 20th Century Fox jingle plays as this scam artist with a rats tail hairdo(n’t) named Wallace Randall from Real Good Chocolate Industries walks out on stage. He tries way too hard to motivate the kids -- telling bold-faced lies like “Zeus sold chocolate!” Sounds legit. He announces that the grand prize is this fancy motorized scooter with a cheetah print butt seat. Snazzy. Mr. Randall says the person who believes they were put on planet earth to sell chocolate is the person who’ll be the top seller and win the prize. Louis' mind is so clouded by the scooter, he feels the spirit.

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I always crack up when Louis dramatically mumbles “that’s why I’m here...” to himself. I also love how Mr. Randall uses Shaq in “KAZAAM” -- a cinematic classic that boasts a 6% rating on Rotten Tomatoes -- as an impressive example.

Louis really, really wants that scooter. So he decides that he and Twitty should team up to sell 400 freakin’ boxes, ensuring that they’ll be the top sellers. Yeah, I don’t remember chocolate sales working like that? I remember every student was given a suitcase-size box of assorted chocolates and that’s it. What the hell is this 400 boxes nonsense?! Then again, I mostly remember doing the Hershey’s Fundraising sale. Obviously, this episode is a spoof on the “World’s Finest Chocolate” brand -- which I definitely remember selling at one point, too. I checked their website and it seems like they cap it at 25 boxes, although you CAN order more than that if you want. But, who would??? 400 IS SUCH A STRETCH.

I tried to check out with 400 boxes, and it said “TOO MANY ITEMS IN CART” ..........ya don’t say. Imagine paying $12,000 for chocolate.

Ren struggles to be nice to Louis throughout the week. It’s pretty funny. She’s constantly yelling at him, and then following it up with an awkward compliment lol. She also thinks selling 400 boxes is asinine “You actually think you’re going to sell 400 boxes? You are a total and complete........ i...nspiration to all of us.” Good save, Ren.

The next day Louis and Twitty are at the Stevens house trying to come up with creative (and insincere) ways to sell their 400 boxes, trying make the product seem amazing to prospective buyers. I think this is freaking hilarious. Louis says “I hand you the chocolate, you eat it, and then you say...” Twitty looks at his hand for the words “It’s a miracle. I can see again” which he repeats super robotically. Louis kills me here. “No... that’s not what ya say. ‘Cause you were blind -- and now you can see. That’s a miracle!!! YOU CAN SEE NOW.” He says that Mr. Randall said you have to make people feel that chocolate has changed your life. So Twitty dramatically falls to the ground shouting “IT’S A MIRACLEEEEE! I CAN SEE AGAINNNNNN AHHHHH!” and I die every time.

I’m pretty sure if one bite of chocolate could restore your eyesight, it would cost a little more than $1 per bar.

Just then, Mr. Randall unexpectedly visits to personally deliver and congratulate them for setting out to sell an ambitious 800 BOXES. Yeah. Turns out Louis ordered 400 boxes and Twitty also ordered 400 boxes. So now they’re stuck with 800 boxes they obviously will never be able to sell. This is where the drama really strikes. I love Louis’ face when he realizes the problem:

That zoom in, lol. It needed to be gif’d.

Mr. Randall goes on to tell them they’re financially responsible for every box they ordered. Are you kidding me? That’s roughly $24k according to the World’s Finest prices. They’re 13. I love how Twitty says the title of the episode here! “Louis, we’re in deep...... chocolate” haha. Louis gets super angry at Twitty for ordering 400 boxes without consulting him because that’s how all the great duos work according to Louis Stevens: “Batman, he rescues people. And Robin... Robin... checks with Batman before he orders 400 boxes of chocolate!!!” I love that line. This leads to an all out war between Louis and Twitty. Louis takes his 400 boxes, and Twitty takes his. They’re officially competing against each other now. Twitty even says “this friendship is over!” Yikes. Let’s take a moment to appreciate Twitty’s face as he tries to talk while carrying large boxes tho:

The next day, Louis wakes up to find his family tap dancing in the living room. The usual. He’s up at 6am ready to start selling some chocolate, but Twitty is way ahead of him. Eileen already bought 6 bars from Twitty not knowing that they’re no longer working as a team! I love two things about this scene. Louis says “Me and Twitty had creative differences -- Because I’m creative and he’s different,” which is incredible. I’ve used this line irl before. And the second is Steve tap dancing while passive aggressively telling Louis to get his 400 boxes of chocolate out of the garage so he can have his parking space back.

“I’m not gonna ask you again... *jazz hands* GET THEM OUTTA THERE!” Tom Virtue is hilarious.

Louis then sets out on his chocolate selling mission and he’s absolutely terrible at it. He’s breaking into people’s homes, jumping on their beds... I can’t. Meanwhile, Twitty is THRIVING and coming up with much more creative ideas than Louis. Which is ironic because Louis just said HE’S the creative one, lol. Twitty’s ideas include a tricycle cart shop and a “Chocopalooza” performance -- a spoof on Lollapalooza obviously.

Not sure how his fake Jamaican accent and hat with mock-dreads would go over today though.

Twitty’s raking it in, and Louis has yet to sell one bar. He goes to Tawny for help but she refuses to buy from either of them because 1. The chocolate tastes like dirt and 2. they’re ruining their friendship over nothing basically.

I love how Louis has a girl take a bite of the chocolate and asks her “Is that the best chocolate bar you’ve ever eaten?” and she says “That’s NOT the best chocolate bar I’ve ever eaten.” World’s Finest happens to be quite nasty tasting too apparently. Well, according to their Amazon reviews at least. So this episode is pretty much true-to-life all around, lol.

Back at home, Donnie has turned their bathroom into a steaming hot sauna. This ain’t good because he blasted the hot water heater to do so. Which happens to be located in the garage.......... where 400 boxes of chocolate are stashed.

It’s like that trope where someone puts too much soap in the washing machine and then leaves it unattended... except with chocolate, because this is Even Stevens.

Louis and Ren notice some chocolate leaking into the driveway and panic. I mean, how do you stop 400 boxes of melting chocolate? “WE GOTTA EAT IT!!!!” is Louis’ suggestion, which is so funny omg. The chocolate leaks EVERYWHERE and we get this terrible CGI aerial shot to prove it:

Mr. Randall decides to conveniently show up here and demands money for the chocolate. Of course, Louis doesn’t have the money. Steve comes waltzing over as well and both he and Mr. Randall start slippin and slidin all over the place. It’s a little annoying but... hey. Steve, being an attorney, threatens to shut down Real Good Chocolate for being a scam. One thing I do not understand: Steve says that Mr. Randall will get his money back. (WHY?! I’d refuse.) And he also tells Louis that he’ll be doing chores for the next few months to pay for the chocolate. Does he mean he’ll be doing chores for the entire neighborhood? No amount of chores would raise the $1,000s of dollars Louis needs, lol. (Again, I’m overthinking this. I know.)

Naturally, everything works out in the end though. Louis and Twitty make up. Twitty ends up winning the sale and gets the fancy scooter, which Louis is cool with because he at least gets to ride it now.

The last minute of the episode is Ren talking on her ~new private phone line~! Except it ain’t so private. Louis has rigged her conversations to be broadcast through two megaphones outside.

I love how everyone and their cousin decided to walk through this residential neighborhood right as Ren declares she has a “major crush on Bobby Deaver.”

And that’s it! I just really like this episode. I always have. Idk what it is about it! There are quite a few things I find hilarious, which I’ve mentioned here. This one went by lightening fast when I was re-watching it, which can only mean one thing to me: It’s entertaining! I like how this episode actually deals with Louis and Twitty’s friendship as well as a bit of the sibling rivalry between Louis and Ren. I just think this one is solid all around and a good one to kick off the Top 25! Ayyyyy! Can’t believe we’re at the Top 25. Wow.

Thanks for reading!!

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#rank #even stevens #louis stevens #shia labeouf #alan twitty #aj trauth #disney channel #old school #old disney #season 1 #top 25 #tv shows #tv #tv review

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kgn-lephare · 6 years

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Nashville, Tennessee: Music City’s still got soul

For a medium-size US city, Nashville has an XXL reputation. Everybody thinks they know what it’s about: country music, the Grand Ole Opry, Johnny Cash, improbable dreams of stardom, cheesy ballads and rhinestone shirts.

But don’t be so sure, warned singer-songwriter and rising star Ben Danaher, during a gig at 3rd and Lindsley, one of the city’s many superb music venues. “Lots of dive bars are becoming karaokes,” he said, before dedicating a song, Silver Screen, to “all the hipsters”.

Road trips and fire pits: discovering the secrets of BBQ in Nashville Read more

His tone was gently ironic, the song full of feeling. Danaher (who is playing the Black Deer festival in Kent on 23 June) later told me he was alluding to “really gritty places that the blue-collar crowd would go to, that all of a sudden have a charm to hipsters”.

So gentrification is happening. Meanwhile, mass tourism has turned many of the honky tonks into fun pubs for boozy bachelorettes and preppy boys wanting to show how badly they can behave – for a weekend.

Country music bars on Nashville’s Broadway. Photograph: John Greim/Getty Images

Similar forces are jolting many metropolises – but is there something fundamental at stake in “Music City”? I was here to find out, and headed first to the Gulch, a neighbourhood that used to be a dank ravine by the railway tracks but now has back-to-back restaurants and bars. Music venues The Mercy Lounge and The High Watt host nightly indie and cover bands – “karaoke” gigs, of a sort – but at The Station Inn, the Gulch’s surviving country music spot, open since 1974, I caught the tail end of Nashville’s annual songwriters festival, Tin Pan South.

The names on the bill meant nothing to me but the gig was all-acoustic, warm, intelligent – trad, but cool. As a finale, veteran performer Rory Bourke was asked to play one of his old songs. His speaking voice sounded hoarse and tired, but when he began to sing his biggest hit, The Most Beautiful Girl – yes, the one that starts with “Hey!” and which our mums and grandmas loved – he was back in his lyrical, lovelorn youth. We all were.

Open mic night at the Bluebird Cafe. Photograph: Alamy

That was a Nashville moment, catching the deeply familiar at its source (who knew this global hit came from a Nashville-based country songwriter?) and being moved. The gig also had me fantasising about becoming a singer-songwriter. It’s one of the consequences of visiting a city with genuine cultural clout: you want to become part of the scene, change your life. (My songs are still works in progress.)

This city and its skyline are changing fast. About $2bn of construction projects are under way

At the Bluebird Café, the most intimate of all Nashville’s musical experiences, I caught Danaher again, sharing the bill with three women singer-songwriters: Alex Kline, Erin Enderlin and Beth Nielsen Chapman. He has an earthy voice in the Ray LaMontagne mould, and had just finished a UK tour. (He’s back here in June.)

The performers sat in a circle, backs to the audience, trying out untested and proven numbers, by turns soulful and sarky (Kline’s White Trash Female – WTF has to be a hit, for someone).

It was a magical evening, and made me reflect on something that struck me at downtown’s Country Music Hall of Fame and museum: country is a genre that, for all its cowboy pretensions, has a history of strong women. From Kitty Wells, who proved women could sell records in the 1950s, to the footage of Wanda Jackson out-Elvising Presley on Hard-headed Woman, to Shania Twain’s establishment-shocking outfits. A week before my visit, Taylor Swift showed up unannounced at the Bluebird: she continues to break rules, as well as records. Country music is alive and well (and living in Nashville) – it’s just women who are leading the latest revival.

The Country Music Hall of Fame and museum. Photograph: Alamy

Another overlooked aspect of Music City is right behind the hall of fame: Hatch Show Print celebrates Nashville’s history as a centre for letterpress printing from the 1870s to the rock’n’roll era. Its walls are plastered with early flyers for Hank Williams and Dolly Parton. I was even invited to roll off my own little poster – it’s not great, but it’s better than my songs.

This city and its skyline – which inspired the title of Bob Dylan’s 1969 album – are changing fast. About $2bn of construction projects are under way. The handsome red-brick edifices along the Cumberland river cower beneath glass-and-steel towers including AT&T’s striking “Batman Building”, and 5,028 rooms are under construction at 33 new hotels.

The most stylish – if pricey – place to stay is The Noelle (doubles from $339), a 1930s art-deco beauty in pink Tennessee granite that reopened last year with a sultry cocktail bar and fab coffee shop. Near Printer’s Alley, its interior honours the design history I’d seen at Hatch.

Cranes clutter the backstreets. Not even the Ryman Auditorium – former home of the Grand Ole Opry – is exempt. By 2020, a luxury apartment tower will block the view of the gothic facade of this temple of country and cradle of bluegrass – which is still worth an hour of anyone’s time, not least to see Johnny Cash’s suit.

Third Man Records, Jack White’s vinyl store in Nashville’s Pie Town. Photograph: Alamy

But there are subtler evolutions. In Pie Town, music – in the shape of Jack White’s Third Man record company, vinyl store and 1947 recording booth – combines with high-end retail. Central St Martins-trained Savannah Yarborough crafts bespoke leather garments at AtelierSavas. Any Old Iron, run by British designer (and former scrap dealer) Andrew Clancey makes sequinned suits, dresses and show clothes for Beyoncé and Kesha, among others.

“I moved here not for the music, but for the musicians,” says Clancey. “Many of them want to look more contemporary without having to go to New York or Los Angeles. With every genre recorded here, we felt we could offer something unique. Nashville’s fashion week has just had its eighth year – there wasn’t a stetson in sight.”

Show clothes at Any Old Iron, also in Pie Town

In the suburbs of Germantown, Five Points and the Nations, food is the motor of a more familiar metamorphosis, as pioneering restaurateurs – from veteran Margot McCormack (Margot Café, Marché Artisan Foods) to newcomers Bryan Lee Weaver (Butcher & Bee) and Julia Sullivan (Henrietta Red) – challenge the hegemony of “hot chicken” and “meat and three” (for which I personally recommend Edley’s Bar-B-Que and Hattie B’s).

Five Points, in East Nashville, has a gritty-but-smart feel, with dreamy clapboard houses and Queen Anne mansions.

“There was a huge fire in 1916,” local guide Karen-Lee Ryan told me (she runs excellent Walk Eat Nashville tours). “Then the area was razed by a tornado in 1998 and again in the floods of 2010. The disasters were curse and catalyst. They brought the community together.”

Hattie B’s Hot Chicken – for a traditional taste of Nashville

Ryan puts the collaborative spirit down to music. “Sitting down with an instrument is a creative act. Musicians riff off each other. So do people in Nashville’s food scene. It’s not ‘I’m in my own silo and I don’t care what other people are doing.’”

So, will the skyscrapers wipe out that denim-blue sky? Probably. And will it also lose its vibe? That I doubt. As Ryan put it: “There can be many co-existing Nashvilles, whether that’s through art, music or food.”

And there can be many kinds of Nashville sound too, from Kacey Musgraves’ recent feminist alt-pop on Golden Hour to the rocking and rollicking in the honky tonks on the city’s Broadway, to “Hey! Did you happen to see …?”. And, even, to karaoke nights at the (surely not very hip) hipster bars.

“The music scene in the city is still very strong,” says Danaher. “Despite the changes, some of the dive bars are still home to the greatest guitarists doing residencies. There are way too many amazingly talented, driven people here for Nashville to risk losing its soul.”

Getting there

Flights were provided by British Airways, which has returns from Heathrow to Nashville from £668. British Airways Holidays offers flight and hotel packages, such as four nights at The Westin Nashville from £999.

Best time to visit Nashville is at its best in spring and autumn, with temperatures in the mid-20s. In summer, it’s hotter and more humid. Rainfall is low year-round. Try to combine a visit with a major music gathering, such as Tin Pan South in early April; CMA Music Fest from 7-10 June; or America Fest from 11-16 September. The Music City Food and Wine festival is from 14-16 September. Full list at visitmusiccity.com.

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years

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7 Grounds That Feline Are Way Superior to Bird-dog

I dont believed to be any greater illustration of mankinds superiority at the top of the food chain than the facts of the case that we allow other swine into our dwellings for some mild presentation and intimacy. Sure, there are instances of cross-species relationships across the animal kingdom, but humans are the only species that are doing it exclusively for the recreation. Its various kinds of odd in a way.

When it comes to allowing animals to poop in our homes, “theres” two species that are more popular than any other: dogs and felines. Most beings prefer puppies, but most people also considered that the plural of Oreo is Oreos”. In both specimen, theyre wrong; the plural of Oreo is, in fact, “Oreo”, and felines are objectively better than dogs when it comes to being domesticated pets. Before you break down my entrance with lamps and pitchforks, Id invite you to hear me out.

1. Cat are altogether less labor

First things first: I will admit that the life of a bird-dog proprietor is full of awesome activities. You can take your furry friend out for feet, play retrieve on the beach, or school him nifty tricks. My cat, on the other mitt, liked to cry at my space at six in the morning until I fed her, at which point she would fall asleep and reject me for most of the working day. It can be a major bummer if you’re looking for a companion to do recreation trash with all the time, but as somebody with a more relaxed life, I’m reasonably happy to have an animal that will( chiefly) gives people cavity. I spend most of my weekends going out until the wee hours of the morning, and the last event I need in my life is to have to wake up early on a cold December morning with a hangover so I can pick up fresh, steaming poo, trying urgently not to upchuck. Cats aren’t going to bark frantically every time someone hoops my bell, they’re not going to eat my shoes or tear up my sofa, and if I tried to take my feline outside and stimulate her fetch a lodge for hours at a time, she’d look at me as if I was on dopes. She respects my time, and I respect hers. It’s a completely independent relationship.

2. Dogs give their love unconditionally, a cat’s cherish is gave

If youre a hound proprietor, youll possibly has been extremely used to your canine acquaintance accosting you with hundreds of thousands of pokes and furiously wagging posterior, as if he wasnt aware youd ever return( perhaps because he wasnt ). One of the sticks dog owners will beat cat fans with is the notion that your cat doesnt love you, or attend if “youre living” or croak. That categorically isnt true; cats adoration their humen even more than they cherish nutrient, and if youve got a “cat-o-nine-tail”, youll know theyre just as fond as any dog in their own lane. I find that it takes time and try before your feline obliges the decision to love you, and until youve proven yourself worthy of that ardour, a cat will consider you with the lethargy and defiance such a stranger deserves. Dogs are manic pellets of desiring tendernes, but there’s no animal better than a “cat-o-nine-tail” at uttering the feeling “you aint s ***, motherf *** er” until you demonstrate yourself worthwhile. A pup may plow every stranger with a high level of interest or excite, but a cat will bide its age, watch and celebrate, before opening its mettle to a human. To me, a cat’s charity simply intends more.

3. Feline are actually useful around the house

As you may already know, the common hound tumbled from the noble wolf, domesticated and multiplied over thousands of years to craft the perfect house baby. Cats, on the other handwriting, various kinds of only proved up one day and started chilling in people’s dwellings. Ancient DNA evidences cats pretty much domesticated themselves, and that’s in part due to the fact that the relationship between the bag of cats and people is naturally more symbiotic than that between bird-dogs and people, where there’s a clear hierarchy of ruler and topic. If you’ve ever come home to find a bird or squirrel carcass on your doorstep, you know that cats are moderately efficient hunters, and if you have a pest problem, they’re really useful for catching mice. I’m not sure I’m any better for having watched my “cat-o-nine-tail” catch a large moth, toy with it as it furiously tried to escape particular extinction, and eat it before vomiting it back up again, but it’s exactly an example of the subtle scout labour a feline gets through in the home( in between its 14 hours of sleep a era ). Yeah, I know that some dogs were multiplied for specific tasks like herding or fox hunting, but when was the last time you owned that many sheep?

4. Cats are generally more enjoyable to be around

A common misconception with cats and dogs is the idea that puppies are stupid, over-exuberant animals, while felines are cold, calculating executioners who could destroy you at any second. In world, “cat-o-nine-tails” are just as, if not more stupid, than your median hound. Bird-dogs are like that guy you knew at school who had mediocre points and spend all his time at the gym, but now passes a successful bodybuilding business. Cats, on the other mitt, can be like that university flatmate you had that seemed really smart or musing and was doing a really complicated route, but managed to spate the laundry room by trying to soak a duvet( spoiler alerting: I was that flatmate ). A cat will try to jump-start between kitchen bars, spectacularly underestimate the distance, fall to the field with a accident, slam and bang, and still has the fearlessnes to give you a stare that mentions: “what the f *** are you looking at? ” Watching a cat around the dwelling as it gets confused by waterbeds, DVD players or even cucumbers is a great way to pass the time, and there’s a good reason that YouTube is utterly full to the edge of feline videos. Hounds are lovely and fond and cuddly, but they’re not specially good at retaining me entertained.

5. They’re better for the environment

I’m going to be straight with you: owning any sort of domestic domesticated, especially one that eats flesh, is not particularly great for those of us who don’t is argued that climate change isa deceive developed by the Chinese. A 2009 book published by Robert and Brenda Vale, entitled( a little controversially) Occasion to Ingest the Dog? The Real Guide to Sustainable Living, talks about the massive ecological footprint a domestic companion racks up, calibrating the environmental damage in a component announced “global hectares”. A medium-sizeddog has the footprint of around 0.84 hectares, far more than the carbon footprint of a Toyota Land Cruiser( or the commonwealth of Vietnam ), while a cat’s footprint is comparable to that of aVolkswagen Golf, possibly because they’re a lot smaller. I signify, it’s not as as good as leading wholly pet-less, but I’m sure Mother Nature will thank me for electing feline over canine. Eventually.

6. They’re cheaper, extremely

When you take home your “cat-o-nine-tail” for the first time, there are some things you’ll need to pick up before. You need to get a collar, offspring container, food … but that’s good-for-nothing in comparison to a dog. First off, because dogs have often been much greater, you’ll have to dish out a lot of currency per month on hound food, but even the dogs of comparable lengths ingest a lot more of your hard-earned currency( and if they get emphasized enough, literally your billfold as well ). Spending money on leashes, grooming discipline class or even ridiculously expensive munch toys are actually leave you broke at the end of the month, while your feline is entertained by a scratching post, a couple of plaything mouse and whatever random cardboard casket you have lying around the house. They pretty much bridegroom themselves, very. The ASPCA even backs me up on this one: a study found that felines are room cheaper than your median hound, to the sing of up to $800 a year.

7. Yes, felines are kind of yanks … but that’s why they’re awesome

I’ve written this side-by-side compared to a lot of enjoy , not to mention anecdotes, but I’ve got to level with you here: my feline is an a ** gap. When she’s not riling me on purpose, waking me up at pornographic hours or invariably trying to knock me off balance while I tie lightbulbs, she’s purporting scratchings at me and climbing up on my plateful as I try to eat something. Here’s the thing, though: I enjoy her. Don’t get me wrong; bird-dogs are great, but even with the monstrous ones, I seem as if they’re mostly innocuous, and the idea of manhandling me never spans their memories. With my “cat-o-nine-tail”, I have no doubt that she’d to continue efforts to sever my carotid vein if I so much as look back her funny, and that’s the same reasons she’s enormous. Even when she’s dragging a dead fowl into my front room or looking instantly at me as she use her litter casket, I know that she could destroy me if she so desired, and that builds it additional sweetened when she doesn’t. I don’t know about you, but I think that most movie rogues would be jug to hang out with than the heroes; who’d want to get a brew with Luke Skywalker or Batman when you are able to chill with Darth Vader or the Joker? Sure, they’d maybe try to kill you, but should you come out alive, you won’t be able to say you didn’t have fun.

Well, there you have it, “cat-o-nine-tail” suitors and hound suitors. Of trend, to each their own, and I don’t visualize I’ll have altered all of you to cat admirers. I do hope, nonetheless, that some of you preparing the decision to get a “cat-o-nine-tail” or a pup will look at the entertainment-based, financial and environmental perk, and acquire the best choice. You’d be barking mad not to.

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

7 Grounds That Feline Are Way Superior to Bird-dog

1. Cat are altogether less labor

2. Dogs give their love unconditionally, a cat’s cherish is gave

3. Feline are actually useful around the house

4. Cats are generally more enjoyable to be around

5. They’re better for the environment

6. They’re cheaper, extremely

7. Yes, felines are kind of yanks … but that’s why they’re awesome

The post 7 Grounds That Feline Are Way Superior to Bird-dog appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2vaSTMS via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes

apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

7 Grounds That Feline Are Way Superior to Bird-dog

1. Cat are altogether less labor

2. Dogs give their love unconditionally, a cat’s cherish is gave

3. Feline are actually useful around the house

4. Cats are generally more enjoyable to be around

5. They’re better for the environment

6. They’re cheaper, extremely

7. Yes, felines are kind of yanks … but that’s why they’re awesome

The post 7 Grounds That Feline Are Way Superior to Bird-dog appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2vaSTMS via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes