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moronic-validity · 3 years

Note

Okey so I saw that ur requests where up?if not then I won’t take offence to you ignoring this I can be dumb sometimes😅

Anywho! If you wouldn’t mind of course could I get Asa Emory with a delinquent M!S/O? Idm what else you do with it I just love the idea of someone who would like punch Asa and not bat an eye and clashes with dominance I guess?

Thank you!!🥰

Hi Asa Nonnie! I decided to goa bit...off with it and I broke the reader! Well, Asa did.

This is a 2k fic, I was going to make it longer... If y'all want a part 2, let me know!

Warnings: Canon-typical ish violence! Just a little bit of Stockholm Syndrome, maybe more self preservation than anything else.

This fic is not 18+, but I will say it’s like...not completely sfw

You knew this guy had a PhD and owned a fairly lucrative fix-it company.

You hoped this guy had some work equipment you could take to the pawn shop.

You had been watching the house for about a week, making note of his comings and goings, assuring yourself that he lived alone. This man functioned on a tight schedule and you could map it down to the minute. There was only one thing that caught you off guard.

He didn’t have a security system.

It almost threw you off his house.

Almost.

You waited until he left for the night, somewhere around 8 p.m. He wouldn’t be back for hours. You knew as long as you were quiet, his neighbors wouldn’t even blink. He even left his garage open.

This guy really is clueless, you thought to yourself, nearly wanting to laugh at the man, this is going to be a piece of cake.

Asa drove off down the block. He was going to give you about 45 minutes to get into his home and begin your search for loot. He checked his watch and tapped his steering wheel impatiently. He wanted to save himself the effort of replacing his windows or locks and left the garage door open for you.

You walked in, careful to not make too much noise. His house was absurdly pristine, if you didn’t know someone lived there, you’d have assumed it was a model home. You wandered towards the bedrooms and took care to step over the wire on the floor. You had no idea what it was attached to, but the last thing you needed was to knock something over.

Asa parked on the curb across from his house. He hummed to himself, happy to see your nondescript grey car with the conveniently missing tags still parked in his garage, out of view from his neighbors.

So smart, he thought to himself, yet far too careless.

Asa nodded to a passing neighbor, a greeting exchanged as the other continued their walk.

Once he was in his garage, he pulled on his gloves and mask. He entered his house silently, not wanting to alert the would-be thief. He watched as you entered his room and touch his bed.

You had to marvel at the impeccable condition this man kept his house in. You ghosted your fingers along the sheets of his bed. They were high quality, you assumed. Higher quality than you had ever owned. You looked across the room, unaware of the man approaching from behind until he was within arm’s length. You planted your feet, twisted, and threw a punch with your entire body weight behind it.

Asa wasn’t expecting you to hit him.

Asa certainly wasn’t expecting it to hurt the way it did.

The fight that ensued left both of you bloody, but while you seemed tired, the other man seemed excited. Almost thrilled to have someone to beat the shit out of.

He had backed you out into the hall, and this time, you weren’t careful, and you tripped over the wire you had intentionally avoided the first time. The rug on the floor came up and enveloped you, blacking out everything.

It was a trap.

This man had booby trapped his house.

You thought about the predictable schedule, the lack of a security system, and the open garage door.

This was never an easy score, not for you at least.

Asa chuckled to himself before finding one of his spare crates. He cut you down, dropping you and the rug into the container. You were kicking and screaming, fighting against it, but stronger people had put up better fights, and still wound up added to his collection. You were no different, though definitely more amusing.

He took off his mask and gloves and headed towards his bathroom. He prodded at the growing bruise and shook his head. You had landed a few good shots. His lip was split, there was the bruise forming along his left cheek and up along his brow, he knew his knuckles were split and that if he had bothered to check, his ribs were probably bruised.

He carefully cleaned his lip and knuckles before returning his attention to where you were stored on the floor.

He had plans for you.

He dragged the crate out into his driveway, once again acknowledging one of his neighbors. They exchanged pleasantries as you attempted to rock the box over.

“Feisty ones this time Asa?” His neighbor joked, looking at the trunk.

You nearly froze. Was this a regular occurrence? Did this guy just...kidnap people?

“Only a little bit,” Asa said with a happy sounding sigh, “I’ve been lucky enough to study him alone for roughly a week now, just time to take him back to where he belongs.”

“Seems like he doesn’t want to go,” his neighbor laughed, “Need some help loading him up?”

You screamed, but it was muffled. You felt yourself being lifted and before long, you were set down and slid until you hit a wall.

You heard a door shut.

Before long, the vehicle was moving. You were folded in an uncomfortable position and every time he took a turn, you slid until you hit another panel of the van.

You had to shut your eyes to avoid getting motion sick.

Once the van was parked, he hauled the trunk along with him.

You had no idea where you were, but you knew as soon as he opened the crate, you were going to start swinging.

You tried to map the turns he took so you could get out of the building, but after the eighth or ninth turn, you were lost.

Finally, he set you down. You could hear him doing something across the room.

Then he unlatched the case.

You tumbled out, clumsily finding your footing. Your vision was swimming, but you attempted to punch your kidnapper anyway. Asa dodged it with ease and shoved you.

You fell then scrambled back to your feet, setting up to tackle him.

Asa stepped to the side and watched you run into the floor. He smiled. He was going to have fun with this. He walked over to your still recovering form, pulled the waist band of your pants down, and stuck you with the needle he set up before letting you out. Nothing more than a mild paralytic. He wanted you awake for this.

You were numb. You couldn’t lift your arms or legs if you tried, and you did. You felt him lift you up and place you on a table that you didn’t even realize was in the room. He picked up your arm and started an IV. You could see the stand in your peripheral. You hoped to God that it was just saline.

Asa picked up a pair of trauma shears off the counter and cut away your pants and shirt. He had to make sure that he hadn’t damaged his newest toy. He noted that your chest was covered in bruises, but other than one that looked particularly dark, he was sure you were going to be fine.

You cold tell it was cold and you felt your clothes being pulled away. You’d cover yourself if you could move your arms.

Asa considered his options. He could easily skin you if he wanted to. Use you for a new addition to his prized collection.

But you were interesting.

Interesting didn’t come along every day.

He checked his watch. You probably had another three or four hours until the paralytic wore off. He covered your body with a blanket and sat down, watching and waiting until you were moving again.

Your eyelids were so heavy and the blanket he covered you with was so warm. Despite the fear you felt, you couldn’t help yourself falling asleep.

You woke up to your IV being tugged. You turned your head and regarded the man carefully. You didn’t want to swing on him and wind up getting drugged again, but you also didn’t want to stay here. He wasn’t unattractive and frankly speaking, in any other situation, that didn’t start with robbery and end with a kidnapping, you probably would’ve asked him out for coffee.

“Asa, right?” Your voice was hoarse, he looked at you like he was trying to figure out how he wanted to pin you to the wall, “What do you want with me?”

Asa chuckled.

“What do I want with you,” he chuckled again, shaking his head, “What did you want with me? What were you hoping to steal?”

“I don’t think we can really compare the pair here,” you said, almost wanting to laugh, “Kidnapping and theft are on two different levels,”

You sat up on the table, letting the blanket fall over your lap.

Asa took a step back, his hand on the shears he used to remove your clothes.

“You’re interesting. I tend to enjoy the company of interesting people.” He answered, leaving no room for further questioning.

You two watched each other, each waiting for the other to make a move.

“Lay back down.” Asa commanded, and you laughed in his face.

“I’m not a dog,” you started, before he put his hands on your chest and forced you back down onto the table, securing you in place with straps you didn’t know were there.

It occurred to you that this was not the first time you missed the small details that gave him advantage.

“Disobey or question me again and I put you back in the box. You’ll only come out when I decide I want your company,” he tightened the straps, “Listen to me and things will be significantly easier for you.”

You acted before you thought about it. You turned your head and spit on him.

The laugh Asa let out made you regret every choice you made in the last 48 hours.

You weren’t sure how long he locked you in the trunk. You knew that everything hurt. You were sure that you’d be stuck in this uncomfortable position even after the case was opened.

Asa locked you in the box for about an hour. He had timed it. It gave him a moment to take his frustrations out on a different unfortunate soul.

Asa adjusted his clothes before reentering the room he was keeping you in. He knew there was blood on his shoes, still wet and fragrant.

He undid the straps on the case and let it fall open. You fell over, onto the floor, not bothering to get up.

Asa shook his head.

“I want you to lick my shoe.” Asa moved his shoe directly in front of your face.

“Why?” you were scared to refuse, not wanting to get put in the box again.

“Because my shoe is dirty,” he crossed his arms, “and I want you to clean it.”

You stalled. Asa bent down to drag you back into the box.

“No no no no no,” you started panicking; you stuck your tongue out and he let go of your arm. You could tell it was blood based off of scent alone and as disgusted as you were, you’d do anything on earth to avoid being shoved back in the dark.

He stood back up and watched as you started to lick his shoe with broad strokes. The tears were flowing freely down your face and Asa had never seen something so beautiful in his life.

You were broken.

It was so much easier than Asa could’ve dreamed.

He watched patiently as you cried and begged and worshiped his bloody shoe.

You had still disobeyed him.

He still locked you back in the box, crying and screaming.

He set the timer for about forty-seven minutes, not even bothering to leave the room. He sat in the chair and watched the box rattle. He watched as it stilled, and your screams turned to choked sobs. He imagined the look of resigned desperation.

His watch gave a single vibration to signal the end of your confinement.

When he opened the box this time, your first response was to clutch his leg.

Asa was amused by how little effort he had to put into breaking your will. Had you not been attractive, he would’ve considered you no longer of interest.

He shook you off his leg and walked across the room. You stayed put and watched him, looking for some signal so you didn’t make the mistake of disobeying him yet again.

He motioned for you to come and you crawled to him without a second thought. You sat at his feet and looked up at him.

“Well, isn’t that a good boy,” he stroked your cheek, thankful you had put the idea of you being his dog in his head.

You leaned into his touch.

Asa smiled and cupped your face in his hand, squeezing just hard enough for it to open your mouth.

“Stick out your tongue,” he said, no louder than a whisper. You obeyed and he repaid you by spitting directly onto your tongue, “Now swallow.”

For a second you considered spitting onto the floor. You didn’t want this. Not from him.

The fear of being locked in the trunk again over-rode any sense of self respect and you swallowed the mixed saliva.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir.”

37 notes · View notes

moved-danganronpamess · 4 years

Note

sjskjsk, hi!! ive had this idea for a while, so can i request a platonic child!reader with Gundham, Kazuichi, Kyoko, and Sayaka? Like the reader is around the age of 10 or so, and somehow got into Hope's Peak Academy and is very clingy? Thanks so much ♡

(i kinda evil laughed at this request, which I don't do often. But the things you can do with this idea) AMAZING!!!!

This is such a cute idea, my blossom!

Thank you very much for requesting and don't forget to take care of yourself and stay hydrated!!! - mod Chiaki

Gundham, Kazuichi, Kyoko and Sayaka reaction to child! reader being a student at Hope's Peak Academy

Gundham :

♡ As surprised as you when you see him

♡ You with your small form, him and his Devas and a scarf when it was clearly hot outside

♡ "Who is this fiend?"

♡ What is a child doing here? Is it a student? Is it just his foolish imagination? Are you someone's kid??? He doesn't know and he isn't sure if he wants to know

♡ "Who are you calling a 'fiend?'" You retorted back.

♡ Probably won't spend as much time with you as you would want, but he still kinda thinks you're quite admirable

♡ You got to this school and you also seem smart despite your age, will never say it out loud though

♡ But he won't mind if you hang onto his leg really tightly and walk around with him everywhere

♡ "Your strength has always been admirable, mortal. Touching the skin of Tanaka the Forbidden One comes with a price," would melt when you smile up at him because you think it's a compliment.

♡ Will let you play with his Dark Devas and cuddle with them

♡ He thinks it's really cute

♡ If he and Sonia are going on a trip or something, he's taking you with them

♡ So you end up looking like a nice family

♡ "Look, look! Aren't those animals cute?" You pointed at them as you looked back at Gundham and Sonia with a grin.

♡ "Ah, you're right! They're beautiful," Sonia grinned as she held your hand tightly, beaming down at you.

♡ Afterwards, will go on more trips with you

♡ Will not, I repeat, will not let Kazuichi get closer to you

♡ He thinks he would have a bad influence on you and your pure aura

♡ He likes to teach you about animals and loves how you can keep up with his speaking habits

♡ When you know each other quite a bit better and he's really comfortable with you, he'll let you sit on his shoulders (of course, being mindful to the Devas) and let you play with them and his hair

♡ He will carry you like that all day, every day if you want to

♡ "Your power is flowing through me, little one," he said with a small smile.

♡ He looks like husband material and like he's your father, so expect people stopping him on the street and telling him that he has a cute child ♡

Kazuichi :

♡ shocked baby

♡ "How did a kid get in here?"

♡ slowburn on how to be a good big brother

♡ Would be kind of curious how did you get through the security and would also think that you maybe got lost

♡ "Are you lost?" He kneeled down to your level with a grin on his face, surely thinking that this is a piece of cake.

♡ "I'm not lost, I go to this school."

♡ Wouldn't believe it, he wouldn't believe it at all

♡ He's the person who'll cause a ruckus and get the attention of a teacher who explains to him that in fact you're a student here and in fact you're his new classmate

♡ Wouldn't know how to talk to you so he would spend most of his time running around and trying to get Sonia to notice him

♡ But if you came one day to him and decided to help him with fixing something, he would be so happy and excited to teach you

♡ Would also love to share lunches with you and spend time with you

♡ He would as well complain about a lot of things

♡ "I just don't understand why Miss Sonia spends so much time with him!"

♡ "Cheer up, Kazu! You have your good points as well!" You spoke up from beside him, casually eating your sandwich.

♡ Yes, sometimes you'll have to encourage this man-child

♡ Won't mind if you hold his hand at all times, because he is really fond of you and sees you as a younger sibling

♡ Will play with you even if the others tease him about it too much

♡ "Really? You're playing with them? Aren't you just acting like a pedophile?" Hiyoko taunted him.

♡ "No, I'm not!"

♡ Will sacrifice everything for you so if you need help with something and he has a chance to be with Sonia as well, he won't know who to pick, but he adores you so he will help you

♡ He will let you watch him while he's fixing or making something, it makes his confidence rise higher

♡ "I want to play something," you whined out from beside him.

♡ "Really? Now? But I have to fix this!"

♡ He wonders if parents have it this hard with children, because sometimes he's feeling like he will die

♡ But he appreciates you nonetheless and will spend time with you, also will become as clingy as you

♡ So you're like two peas in a pod ♡

Kyoko :

♡ She isn't interested that much??

♡ Like she was a little curious why you were there, but having you as a classmate won't really bother her

♡ She won't even try to socialize or get to know you like her other classmates

♡ But will surely be surprised when you take a liking to her and follow her around the school

♡ At first, she'll try to lose you to the best of her abilities, but it doesn't work

♡ Because you caught up to her and held her hand really tightly

♡ "Why are you running away? Do you hate me?" You muttered out on the verge of tears.

♡ Naturally, Kyoko doesn't know how to react because she herself didn't have the best childhood. But she still tries

♡ "I don't hate you," she answered, nothing less nothing more. But would feel her walls come down a little when you cheered up after hearing that.

♡ You will follow her around, holding onto her hand

♡ Won't let you come and solve a case with her, as much as she doesn't mind dead bodies she doesn't want you to see one

♡ So she will give you to Makoto to be a babysitter, he won't mind, he'll just be surprised at first

♡ If you cry hard enough and don't let go of her leg, she will take you in her arms and take you to the crime scene

♡ Solving the crimes with you in her arms

♡ If it's especially gruesome she will ask you to not look and hide your face in her neck and hair

♡ "Turn around," she patted your head as you turned your head away from the scene.

♡ Won't mind teaching you stuff and helping you with anything

♡ She's a bit stoic and a little rough around the edges, but she loves your affection

♡ Won't let anyone bully you

♡ She has such a soft spot for you ♡

Sayaka :

♡ Kind of surprised when she sees you, but also thinks you're cute from the get go

♡ "Where are your parents?" She kneeled down to your eye-level with a kind smile.

♡ "I don't need my parents here," you told her, only to confuse her.

♡ But she quickly understood that you were her new classmate and she would take almost immediate liking to you

♡ Would be the easiest to get close to out of the four

♡ She would play a lot of games with you and talk to you a lot

♡ She will sing to you at all times, especially when she sees you smile because of how well she sings

♡ Won't mind if you're clingy and want to hold hands all the time

♡ She will hold your hand even before you can reach out your hand and she will walk around like that with you

♡ Most probably babies you and cooks for you when she has the time

♡ Will teach you her choreographies and will literally combust from your cuteness if she sees you trying to imitate her moves

♡ Will also love it when you come with the rest of her classmates to her concerts

♡ She will meet you in the backstage and hug you really tightly

♡ "What do you think? It was fun, wasn't it?" She would grin when she saw your smile.

♡ Sayaka won't hesitate to protect you and will be nicknamed as your mother

♡ Will take you on a lot of trips with her and won't mind showing you to her idol band

♡ When her fans see you with her on multiple occasions, she won't mind (as long as you and your parents agree) taking a few photos and uploading them on her social site

♡ But she will protect you and do anything for you to not get caught any backslash

♡ She completely adores you ♡

253 notes · View notes

oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

Trophy chapter four

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult Themes Dubcon,Controlling Behaviour, Swearing, Smut +18 Only

Chapter 0ne Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter five Chapter Six

Your escape doesn’t go as planned as Henry reveals just how much power he truly has.

You were just over a week into your 'stay' at Henry's manor and had just about had enough. Youd spent the last few days in a constant fit of frustration. I had become very clear in the first few days that you were nothing more than a toy, a doll for him to coo over and manipulate. Or maybe a better way to discribe it was the girl in a childs music box being made to dance when ever the owner decided to open the lid. Either way you felt trapped used and helpless, at first he made sure you spent as much time as possible together taking you to the office when he had to work, sitting you on the sofa with a book or parade you around the house.

After that he would put you in what became your daily cell tho never alone if he wasnt with you kal was. Day after day you were left in here a freshly decorated room that youd heard the guards refer to as the play room, it was like a large airy living room like somthing from pintrest a plush looking corner sofa around a light coffee table,large tv on the wall above the fireplace with games consoles neatly tucked away,two floor to ceiling book cases either side ,there was a cabinet full of dvds and games behind the sofa opposite there was a sideboard filled with sketch books, pens and pencils ect and a two seat small dining table sat between the two cabinets. The room was a mix of soft pale pinks and blues and was chock full of soft furnishings pillows and various blankets draped here and there and huge faux fur rug . The window was locked being ground level ,that was the first thing you checked when left alone ,not that you'd get far across the gravel drive he had made a point not to give you shoes. The saying bare foot in the kitchen sprung to mind.

He would visit you when you were in here at lunch forcing you to eat with threats of spanking sometimes worse. Being treated like a child was wearing thin and to be quiet honest you were becoming scared,finding it easier to go along with his insanity, you called him daddy without a thought somewhere in the back of your mind you knew it was wrong but after just over a week he had managed to drum it into you. It was frighteing just how quickly you could be conditioned you had to get out soon. He was overbearing always helping himself to you, kissing ,touching and generally trying to act as if you were a couple until you did something he didnt like then it was back to threats and reality hit.

Today was slightly different you woke up curled on your side his henry lazily running his finger through your hair you squinted rubbing your eyes as he leant over kissing your shoulder before running hi hand across your tummy spreading out his fingers and pulling you back against his crotch, he rocked against your bottom groaning quietly into your hair as you felt his cock springing to life he grinded harder against you before shuffling pinning you flat on your back straddling you pulling your legs to rest either side of his hips you whined in protest trying to shuffle from under him when he pulled you down tight against him he just tilted his head raising and eyebrow. The warning was clear behave. He rubbed against your mound sliding his cock along the seam pf your pussy. You closed your eyes tight already feeling the arousal build inside of you dreading what was to come, you couldnt help how your body reacted you tried to just let him get on with it but each morning he managed to coax you into participating a little more, not letting you distance yourself any longer. He grunted low i his throat as he pumped himself against you resting his weight on his hips one hand cuped the top of his cock squeezing it against you as he pushed it against your clit. You gasped as you felt his throbbing cock against you pulling high pitched moans and whines as you bit your lip trying to keep quiet. He chuckled

"Oh fuck... thats it baby girl ...come on let daddy hear you." You shook your head back and forth as your pussy weeped onto him soaking both of you you found your self panting hard when he groaned grabbing one of your hands replacing his over his cock you tried pulling away and he growled at you.

"Stay still baby.... fuck thats it good girl.. your so good for daddy" he groaed deep as he sped up before leaving wet open mouthed kisses on your collar bone then kissed up to your lips trying to pry your mouth open you turned your head away. He sighed moving his hand into the boxers that you wore finding your swollen clit flicking and pinching harshly causing you to buck and cry out, he quickly took the opportunity to invade your mouth tasting your tongue sucking you into a passionate kiss he let go of your hand placing his hand pressing your knee up to your torso spreading you out for him rubbing his cock faster with jerky thrusts skimming your opening with every movement you gripped the sheets twisting them as you felt your walls trying to clench onto him desperate for him to fill you you rocked back against him looseing yourself in him as he smothered you he released your mouth biting down on your neck leaving a mark alongside yesterdays. You became hot, to hot as you flushed under him chasing your own end grinding up against him

"Oh! oh god please! Please i cant" you babbled incoherently as he repositioned his hand thumbing your clit and thrusting into you harshly with his fingers bouncing your body across the bed you let out a load moan as his hand worked furiously rubbing amd curling his finding your soft spot befor zeroing in and running his fingers harshly across it you cired bucking out at him unsure of you wanted hi to go faster or get off your climax built and he chuckled as your clamped down on his fingers to the point of pain

"Aww baby you want to cum dont you? Thats it good girl so good is it to much?" he didnt relent still masaging that spot you nodded and cried tears falling down your face you couldnt breath it was to much

"Then cum, its ok you can cum, cum for daddy ,all over daddies fingers" you hated how his wods pushed you over the edge and even then he didnt stop he seemed to double his efforts when you arched violently with a silent scream gushing over his fingers he continued moving draggin out your orgasm he moved higher running the underside of his cock across your mound with stuttering hips.

"Oh..OH shit YES YES fuck! OH GOD Little one fuck" he let out a long gruntle moan as he finished spraying cum up your front you both laid there panting. Shame washed over you like it had done every morning he did this. You felt dirty and used he rolled on his side tucking you in his arms kissing your head praising you for how good you were and telling you how much he loved you as you curled ijto him wetting his tinto him overwhelmed. After a few moments the saddness past and you laid stock still against him as he pulled you to lie across him head on his chest stroking your hair once again.

"Iv got to go out today pet. I trust youll be good whne im gone and if your lucky I'll get you a treat" you froze at his words gojng out... that meant youd be alone the thlught filled you with dread and anticipation.

"If your naughty you will regret it when i get back."you both laid there for what felt like hours he wouldnt let you move. Tho he finally let out a breath and ushered you to the bath room showering with you. After getting dressed and having breakfast he left and you noticed he didnt put you any where. You dread to think what he was doing. But you were left the run of the house. So here you sat in the kitchen alone in the huge house apart from the security he kept on site. 'This was it.. or was it a test?..' you raced to the living room window and watched an expensive car leave the gates at the bottom of the drive as it dissapeared behinde the wall that clossed off the property. You debated in your head if he was just waiting to see if you were going to try and run or not. You had to try, somthing was happening to you here ,you didnt like how complacent you were getting with him. It was cruel really the only person that was aloud to interact with you was him, you find yourself almost craving him, you enjoyed his praise lapping it up liike a love sick school girl.

Deciding that this may be the last time you could escape before it was to late you walked into the kitchen slowly as not to alert anyone to your plan even tho your heart was racing ten to the dozen. Quickly and quietly you pulled a small packet of plasters from one of the draws. Throught out your stay you learnt a few things all the doors leading outside and your 'play room' had pressure alarms built in you'd set one off on your forth day trying to get out into the garden resulting in another painfull and very embarassing spanking in the kitchen then experienced your first corner time, the other thing you learnt were all the guards had shifts and patrol routes the house ran like clockwork youd freighed interest in him and he'd waffled on about how it wasnt all bad and he'd take you out when you'd acclimated to your new life then boasted about the cars he had in the basment garage but you'd 'never get to drive one as driving these fast cars is to dangerous for his baby girl'. Tho you hadnt made a thing of it you kept the information locked away youd been behaving hopeing he would let down his gaurd. Once you got the plasters you put them in the pocket of your cardigan and grabbed a butter knife hooking it in the back of your jeans wedging it just under the tight waist band.

"What are you still doing in here? Get to the playroom" you screamed in suprize as the voice came out of no where you spun round faceing the man and nodded walking past him quickly.

"Wait. What have you been doing in here?" He said grabbing your arm pulling you to a stop you huffed tugging your arm.

"Let go i havent done anything" you twisted around as he patted you down you froze mouth going dry as you thought he was going to find the knife in your jeans he didnt instead his hands found the packet of plasters the cocked an eyebrow

"Im doing some crafts today these are incase i get a paper cut...im clumsy and tthought i should take a pack the keep in there just incase" he eyed you for a few seconds befor smirking at you

"So the princess was sneaking about for some plasters, im suprised you werent trying to sneak candy, would be more fitting for his baby girl." He laughed as you glared at him venomously

"Fuck you ,you cunt" you spat in his face he growled before grabbing your arm in a bruising grip dragging you out of the kitchen down the hall as you screamed at him, a few others poked their heads around to watch asking what was wrong as you were dragged down the hall once outside your day room he stopped pressing a card to the reader next to the handle disarming the door and answered their qeustioning stares.

"Nothing just a temper tantrum im sure she will regret later when Boss finds out." He turned back to you.

"He might even make a show of it, i wouldnt mind seeing her bent over" you growled as he opend the door throwing you in , grunting as you landed hard on the floor he whistled for kal and let the dog enter behind you befor shutting the door arming the device again. Shaking away tears in your eyes as you heard then others laugh about how theyd love to see 'a piece of that ass' kal sat beside you nudging you for a cuddle you hugged him breathing deep nuzzling his thick fur, he was the only company you enjoyed here after snuggling with him a few minuets you pulled away putting your plan into action you got out suome supplies fro the art cupborads scattering them hear and there to make it look like you had been drawing, hopefully if anyone came in and found you missing they would assume that you had asked one of the others to let you use the bathroom as the ensuite to this room wasnt finished. You aproached the door pulling out the knife and lowered it to the door handle, the worst thing about this system was that you werent technically locked in, the door opend but set off an alarm that was indicated by a small red flashing light on the card reading panel. Breathing deep you pulled out a plaster removing the tabs on it sticking oneside to your finger. Gentle you pulled down on the handle until you couldnt anymore easing the knife alongside the door pushing on the plate you pivoted your body opeing the door enough to get your hand in the gap and stuck the plaster over the bottom of the pressure plate securing it down. Holding your breath you waited a few moments before summerizing that it had worked when noone came rushing down the hall you quickly slipped thrpugh the door catching kal befor he could make his way out and shut the door fully. You blinked then jumped for joy you could bearly see the edge of plaster on the frame. Quickly you jogged to the end of the hall ducking low realising that not having shoes might be a god send as you were almost silent as you moved you got another plaster ready on your hand as you ducked and dived behind the counters in the kitchen making your way around to the door Henry had left through.'it must have been to the garage' you though you made quick work of the door not waiting to see if the alarm had set off as you heard foot steps coming your way you slipped through the door closing it behinde you and ran down the stairs into a large garage on the left there was lots of hooks with keys on them you toke shaky breaths scanning them befor looking over the cars there must have been about eleven in total ranging from massive range rovers to calssy two seater sports cars. 'I need on that can blend in, a hatch back or somthing, maybe a saloon' you thought running down the line of cars the most normal looking one was a Jag you quickly ran to the keys looking for a set with the same logo as the car finding two you grabbed them both pushing unlock on one set seing another car across light up you threw them on the floor using the other one to unlock the car getting in quickly you felt your tummy tie itself in knots turning on the ignition and pulled the seat forward you put on your seatbelt out of habbit then dojng a small cheer when you saw it was an automatic you put it in drive wincing as it growled to life louder then it needed to be you pulled it up to the garage door and it opend you pulled it forward going up the bank once at the top you saw a gaurd stopping staring befor shouting out to the others.

"Dont let the gate open!!" You panicked and floored it the car took off down the drive skidding you a stop near the gate the instantly began rolling open. On gaurd was sprinting down the drive behinde you. You looked down for a button to look the doors finding it by the window controls you flicked it on and heard the click at all four doors locked lokking up you saw the gate had stopped half way you spun the wheel throwing the scar around squeezing the car throuh the gate clipping the wing mirror off in the process putting your foot down you gave a triumphant shout as you tore down the road away from that house. Leaning back into the seat relaxing as you made yourway towards the town, it was the only way to get to the motorway that would lead out of the area. You wiped tears from your eyes as as relief flooded you sobs wracked your body the drive to the town took longer than you thought it would and you were suspicious as no one had chased you from the house and had spent the whole drive flinching at every car that pulled up behind you. Pulling up to a round about you stopped recognising the area deciding to take a less busy route pulling off to the outskirts of town you parked up into a superstore looking threw the car for money finding a few £20 notes a tap at the window you screamed turning it was a police officer you gulped looking in the rearveiw mirror seeing a squad car pulled up behind you blocking you in, he indicated for you to roll down the window.

"Yes can i help you?" You asked trying to sound normal

"Miss did you realise your missing a wing mirror?" You followed his gaze and smiled meekly. Getting a bad feeling in your gut.

"Yes, its my boyfreids car i borrowed it and hit a sign back there im going to book it in now hopefully get it done and he wont find out i hurt his baby" you ended with a chuckle patting the steering wheel he didn't look convinced and motioned for his colleague to join him

"Uh huh, so are you insured to drive this car? Sure you didnt hit another car?" You shook your head

" Well i hope im insured he said hed made me a name driver and no i didnt hit anyone, the car caught me by suprize i hadnt realised how much oommf it had and still getting used to the size its a bit wider then mine." You explained hoping you were convincing enough he smiled the held out his hand to you.

"Can i see your licence?" You froze then pretended to look around the car for it

"Oh shit i dont have my bag on me sorry can i give you my name instead and you can look it up on the system?" You pleaded hoping that he would let this one go

"So you dont have your purse on you? When your taking his car to the garage to get it fixed?.... yeah im gonna have to ask you to step out of the car now." He said moving back from the door you looked behind you panicking there was no way to pull out.

"Wh-what? Why?" You cried out as he put his hand in the car opeing the door

"No! No you cant do this you dont understand please!" You shouted at him as he undid your seatbelt pulling you out of the car cuffing your hands behind your back reading you your rights.

"Your under arrest for car theft,careless driving and driving with out insurance , you have the right to remain silent anything you do say can harm your defence and used in court ,Call it in we found Mr cavills car" you froze, hed called in that his car had been stolen. He used the police to track you. You wailed twisting against him as you realised why no one had chased you, he was using the police to bring you back to him.you cried as he dragged you to the squad car.

"NO! You dont understand he kidnapped me! Please you have to let me go! He's mad he locked me up please you have to help me." You kicked out as he forced you into the back seat on the car slamming the door you sobbed in the back seat as they locked up the jag and got in the front of the car.

"Please do make me go back i dont know what he'll do" you cried pitifully they sighed looking at you threw the plexiglass.

"Im sorry love there's nothing we can do for you... i wish there was but its our asses on the line" then he started the car driving towards the station. It wasnt long befor you found yourself in a cell heavy metal door between you and your escape laying on the bed crying and terrified of whats to come. Panicking everytime you heard foot steps down the hall thinking it was him. It was over an hour later when you jumped as the heavy lock on your door opened with a loud bang revealing a calm looking Henry standing beside a sympathetic looking officer he shooed them away.

"Give us a minute" he didnt take his eyes off you as he stepped into the room seemed to take over the small space you shuddered backing away from him sending a pleading look to the officer who ingored you and left.

"Well pet have you got that out of your system now?" He said crossing the cell in large strides his suit jacket hung over one arm that was in his pocket. You shook your head crying

"Pl-please im sorry i-i had to" you flinched as he brought his hand to your face. Smoothing back your hair

"Sshhh shh its ok now everything is going to be fine" he calmed you pulling his outher hand up wiping your tears away before for twisting his fist in your hair you yelped clawing at his hand trying to relieve the pain in your scalp.

"You've been a very very naughty girl havent you?" He tugged your hair back forcing you to look at him still wiping your face with his other. It summed him up caring and kind yet brutal and cruel. He grinned a sadistic grin

"I should let you know that im not pressing charges, what kind of boyfreind would i be if i did?" He teased you letting you know he was told your cover story you cried in pain as he dragged you the few steps towards him forcing you onto your tip toes

"STOP! Please Henry your hurting me!" He tutted at you looking at his watch

"Three hours away from the house and were back to Henry? What happened to Daddy? Well it doesnt matter i hope now you realise that there is no escape. You cannot run or hide from me love i have eyes everywhere." He lowerd you back down releasing your hair clutching you to his chest trapping you in a strong grip as you sobbed shaking like a leaf more out of anxiety then anything else.

"Shh shh. its ok little one... i know its been a scary day getting out , nearly crashing into the gate and then being arrested? its all going to be ok, now that you've got this out of your system you can finally settle at home. Ihave been waiting for this little blow up from you i was beginning to think the gun fiasco was it" His words filled you with dread as you began to sink in this was it for you, that there was no way out, he would find you at some point. Rocking you backwards and forwards with your arms trapped at your side he tucked his nose into your hair kissing it every so often.

"Tho this is probably my fault it was enavitable for you to try and run again, i havent trained you properly yet, not givin you the attention you truly need, but dont worry we will start once we get home. I want you to know daddies not angry, no no he's just dissapointed" he pulled back draping his jacket over your shoulders.

"I hope you know that your still in serious trouble when we get home young lady i warned you this morning that youd regret playing up" he murmmerd into your ear as he walked you out of the cell down to the reception he didnt hold you because he didnt need to there was nowhere you could go.

"Mr cavill would you sign these ,I assume your not pressing charges?" Henry looked up winking at you

"No no my girlfriend couldnt help herself, she's like a child in that respect no self restraint. Never thinks of her consequences" You shuddered catching the his unspoken threat looking down as tears of humiliation the officer chuckled as Henry said this sighing his name

"Well she does look distraught, dont be to hard on the little thing I'd jump at the chance to drive one of those myself."

Henry laughed out loud drawing some attention from the others in the waiting room

"Oh dont you worry about her, she'll find a way to make it up to me somehow wont you babygirl" he said winding an arm around your waist pulling you against him squeezing his hand painfully tight. You looked down nodding hearing a few snickers and scoffs from women in seats behind you.

"Now apologize to the officer for wasting his time baby." You scowled up at him being met with a shit eating grin opening your mouth to tell him to fuck off thankfully you were interupted.

"Oh now thats not nessasary saving a tiny thing like her from herself isn't wasting time ..I'm glad I could help" Henry smiled at you kissing your cheek feeling please with himself.

"Now isnt that nice sweety. He's happy to help us" you gave a jerky nod as Henry finished the paperwork.

"I will have someone collect the car today" he called over his shoulder as he forced you along side him stopping before he got out of the door.

"Oh baby Wheres your shoes?" He asked smirking at you knowing damn well that he hasnt got you any, you felt the eyes of the other people on you as he shook his head picking you up cradling you recieveing a few awws and judgmental stares from the women. Unable to take it anymore you tucked your face into his neck crying.

"Im sorry please im so sorry i wont do anything like this again". He sighed pushing throught the doors and made his way to the car park climbing into the back or a range rover holding you in his lap as the car began moving.

"Its a little to late for sorry baby, daddy has to punish you for being an extremly naughty little girl. Stealing and damaging daddies car running away and getting arrested lying to the police? What kind of daddy would let you get away with all that?" You shuddered mind wandering what he had instore for you, not just for punishment but the training he mentioned in the cell you squirmed in his lap as you mulled it all over feeling sick to your stomach.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut #daddy henry cavill #mob boss henry cavill #henry cavill is daddy

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evangeline-of-montfort · 4 years

Text

ash garden (iv)

chapters 1, 2, and 3 read it here on ao3

A few short years ago, I would have run like a coward. The urge to disappear into the early morning mist and climb into the mountains still pounds through me with every heartbeat.

But I don’t, because I at least owe him this fucking much.

The convoy rolls to a stop on the Hawkway, two armored transports and a funeral hearse, blacker than the night sky. Bile rises in my throat every time I look at it, so I don’t. I remain kneeling next to him, my eyes fixed resolutely on the ground. Even my pride can’t save me from the shame and rage rolling in my chest.

Around six this morning, I finally picked up a signal on my broadcaster. I sent a message to the estate, and then I pitched the fucking thing off the cliff. It didn’t save Davidson, and I hate it for that.

I hate myself for that.

The door to one of the transports opens, and I don’t have to look to see who it is. The wedding band on his left hand is indication enough. Silver and gold, intertwined forever.

I think of the matching ring squeezed in my own hand, leaving angry red imprints in my palm. Tears burn the back of my eyes, hot and stinging.

Blinking them away, I stand to face the man I failed most in the entire world.

Carmadon is a greenwarden made of stone, the lines of his face chiseled with pain. His white suit is rumpled, his eyes bloodshot. My heart twists even tighter at the thought of him falling asleep last night, waiting for a husband who would never come home.

“Evangeline,” he whispers. His gaze flickers from Davidson to me and back again.

“Carmadon, I’m so sorry.” I hate myself for the empty condolence. I’m sorry is the most useless thought in the world to a grieving person. But, like before, my words fail me. There’s nothing to say. Nothing I can do to alleviate the pain that I caused.

Carm bows his head, the smallest of movements. “Could you—could you give me a moment?” he asks quietly.

“Of course.” My mouth is so dry that the words barely make it past my lips. I leave too quickly, trying to run from the grief. No matter what I do, I won’t be able to get away from it fast enough.

Elane waits for me by the convoy, the platinum engagement ring sparking on her finger like a firework. She wants me to know she’s there, giving me the space to run again if I need to. It’s a kindness I don’t deserve.

“Love, you are alive,” is the first thing she says to me. Her eyes linger on my dirty knees, my torn uniform, the tear streaks down my face. She brushes her thumbs over my cheeks. “I will—” The tiniest crack appears in her voice—“I will be eternally grateful for that.”

I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve any of it. My first instinct is to shut myself away, to let my walls come up and hide me until I’m ready. But that won’t help me or anyone else. With a monumental effort, I make myself talk.

“If not for me,” I whisper harshly, my eyes landing everywhere but her face, “he would be alive right now.” My shoulders shake as a wave of emotion sweeps over me, a sea of feelings I know well. Self-hatred. Denial. Grief. Rage.

Elane’s gaze meets mine, and it’s like staring into a mirror to my own soul. “You think I don’t blame myself?” she asks. “He may have died saving you, Eve, but I was the one that asked him to go.” She’s crying now, trembling against me, and I fold her into my arms and try to wish away all her pain.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not your damn fault.” I say it over and over again, like a mantra. Like a prayer.

“Evangeline, I sent him to his death. ” Her voice shatters on the last word. “And I just—I just remember watching him leave, and praying you both would come back safe, but...”

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper again, sounding like a broken record. My eyes are fixed on Carmadon, kneeling beside his husband, his shoulders shaking. On Elane in my arms, her tears sliding beneath wet eyelashes. Look what you did, the entire scene screams. Look what you did, you stupid, stupid girl.

I’m not wrong—it isn’t Elane’s fault.

It’s mine.

~~~

My head spins as I run, and run, and run. Evergreens cast lengthening shadows over the track, and all I can think about is that at this time yesterday, Davidson was still alive. He’s been gone for almost a full day now, but the earth keeps spinning despite his absence. Even though it feels as if it should have stopped.

The world ended when Dane Davidson breathed his last, but still the sun rises and sets.

I see him every time I blink. In those split seconds behind my closed eyelids, blood soaks through his shirt, turning his uniform the color of the dawn. His fingers clutch the silver chain at his neck, lifting the ring to the waning light. The rise and fall of his chest slows. And stops.

I keep running.

I guess I still am a fucking coward.

Carmadon made a broadcast at noon today, and now the entire continent knows how and why the premier of Montfort met his end. Following the broadcast was a state funeral. I didn’t attend. I didn’t watch. How could I, given that his death was practically my fault?

No one has seen Carm for the rest of the day, and the estate is lifeless without his presence. The entire place is wilting: flowers turn brown on the balconies, trees shed their leaves, fruit shrivels and discolors. All of nature grieves for his loss.

If I were a better person and friend, I would go after him. I owed him more than words could describe—and I repaid the debt by letting his husband die. But I can’t find it in me to face his grief again. I don’t want to look into his eyes and see condemnation, conscious or not.

Elane is better than I am. She was good enough to stand beside Carmadon during the broadcast and the service, the former queen of the Rift giving her support for the world to see. I was still here, punching heavy things and crying.

No one has tried to seek me out yet, giving me space to vent. But soon, I’ll have to grow up and head inside to face the consequences of my actions. Soon, I’ll have to talk one-on-one with Carmadon. If not now, then inevitably later. After all, I was the last person to see his husband alive; I was the person that caused his death.

And I still have his wedding band on a chain around my neck, resting near my heart. It thuds against my chest as I run, in time with my footsteps on the track. I need to give it to Carm, but I haven’t found the right words to say for when I do.

Perhaps there aren’t any right words for this situation. Perhaps some are just less wrong than others.

Alone with my thoughts, it’s easy for me to sense the intruder when he comes. Metal rings out in my perception: his uniform is cut with chrome lining, and a silver ring adorns his left hand.

There’s only one person that could be.

I slow to a walk as he nears the track. My heartbeat pounds in my chest, and I rest my hands on my knees as I try to recover enough to speak.

“Tolly,” I say, and my voice hitches on that one word. “I–”

He sweeps me into a hug before I can get any further. “Little sister,” he says, his arms wrapped around me. “We’ve been worried. You have to stop scaring us like that.”

I lean into his chest, feeling the warmth radiate from his torso. My brother is not a touchy-feely person. Moments of contact like these are rare, so I cherish them all the more.

“I’m not little,” is all I can think to say, but saying that only makes me feel more like a child.

Ptolemus smiles as he pulls away. “Evie, I’m a head taller than you and twice as wide.”

“Oh, shut up,” I say. It comes out with more venom than I intend, and I flinch at the hardness in my own voice.

Instead of looking hurt, my brother examines me closer, his eyes searching. “Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not fucking alright.” Angry tears suddenly well up in my eyes again. “But the person you should be asking that question is Carmadon. Not me.” I swipe at my nose with the sleeve of my training suit. The skin there is already raw and red from repeating the action too many times today.

Part of me feels ashamed at breaking down to Tolly. Neither of us cried much as kids, and it’s not like we’re strangers to death. But Davidson’s death feels like no other. My brain doesn’t know what to do with it, swinging wildly between utter denial and complete breakdown. It’s too big to process. Too unreal to have possibly happened.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, Evangeline,” he whispers, pulling me close again. “But in the meantime, it’s okay to not be okay. Grief isn’t a contest. It’s not something you deserve or don’t deserve to feel. You are allowed to be sad and angry even if you weren’t hurt the most .”

“When did you become a therapist?” I snap, and immediately regret it. Everything is coming out harsher than I want it to. It’s like I can do nothing but push away the people I love.

Somehow, my brother seems to have endless reservoirs of patience today. I hate that it probably comes from a well of sympathy I don’t deserve. “I’m married to a healer,” Ptolemus says, and I feel his smile as an infinitesimal tightening of his stomach. “It comes with the territory. And right now, all my therapist instincts are telling me to get you inside.”

“I’m fine out here.”

“I can practically see your fingers turning purple.” He grabs my hand and turns it over to examine. “How long have you been out here, and when was the last time you ate?”

“I—” I glance up at the sky. The sun is touching the horizon now, the sky bleeding red and violet. I’ve been here since mid-morning, but I’m not about to tell him that.

Tolly scowls at me. My silence is as good as a confession for him. “That’s it. You need to come inside. You’ll catch your death out here.” When I still say nothing, he adds, “Don’t make me carry you.”

I have at least enough pride left to walk on my own two feet, so I follow him grudgingly back to the estate.

~~~

The soles of my feet scrape against the cobblestone path. The estate looms higher above me with each step as I trail behind Tolly, unwilling to go in. The lower levels have been teeming with government officials all day, and socializing—or worse, accepting condolences—is the last thing I want to do right now.

But Ptolemus doesn’t lead me through the entrance hall. We slip in through a side door, and he steers me down a hallway towards the kitchens. I stop short as something sparks in my perception, a feeling I would know anywhere. Elane’s ring. She’s here too.

Here, I realize as I look around the empty kitchen, but invisible.

“Hi, love,” I say to the seemingly deserted room.

No response, but I wasn’t expecting one. Elane will reappear when she’s ready, and not a moment before. We have different ways of handling our emotions. I rage and vent, not caring who hears me. She vanishes altogether to cope out of sight.

I help myself to a bowl of blackberries and a platter of cheese and crackers on one of the counters, suddenly ravenous. Tolly takes a seat next to me, leaving the one across from me for Elane. We both jump as her chair suddenly moves, scraping against the floor.

“Hey.” She flashes back into view as she sits, still wearing her black gown from the funeral, and I think idly of her old Haven colors. Her red hair hangs limply against her shoulders, its usual luster gone.

With a pang, I realize she’s been grieving as well, but unlike me, Elane hates to be alone. I practically abandoned her for half the day, just when she needed me most. Selfish.

“I’m so sorry,” I say first. “I should’ve checked in on you.”

“Don’t worry about it: I had Lyrisa. I know you needed space.” To my relief, she smiles, and the expression reaches her eyes. “How are you , love?”

I brace myself against another wave of emotion. Wave is inaccurate at this point—it’s like a void that opens up inside me, draining me of everything else. “It still feels like a nightmare,” I admit quietly. “Like it couldn’t have actually…”

“I know,” Elane whispers. “Do you need to talk about it right now?”

Silently, I shake my head. The movement makes me dizzy, and I have to grab the counter to steady myself. Eating real food for the first time today has made me realize how hungry and thirsty I am. I don’t want to—and probably can’t —do anything but change and go to bed.

“Then we can talk about other things.” She reaches for my hand across the countertop, shivering slightly as she takes it in both of her own. “My god, you’re freezing.” Elane looks askance at me before leaning down to breathe warm air on our conjoined hands. “You’ve practically become a shiver, Evangeline.”

“I’m well aware,” I say. Her touch feels feverish to me, but that’s probably because my skin is ice cold. Experimentally, I try to wiggle my fingers individually of one another. It feels like they’re made of wood.

Elane laughs and gently presses a kiss to each one of my knuckles, her mouth warm against my skin. “Relearning basic motor control, are we? I can help you with that.”

“Get a room.” Tolly covers his eyes, feigning disgust at us both.

I leer back at him. “Like you and Wren are any better.”

He makes a rude gesture and plucks a blackberry from my bowl. I snatch it from his hand and pop it into my own mouth.

It feels good, this comfortable, easy rhythm between the three of us. It feels normal , but it isn’t the same . It’s impossible to ignore the void inside me, the grief that hangs over all of us, threatening to pop this fragile bubble of content.

Because things aren’t normal any more.

Davidson is gone.

And he isn’t coming back.

~~~

taglist: @freaky-freiday @evangelineartemiasamos @farleydiana @fuvkingmagnus @folkoftheair @lilyharvord @scarletbarrow @gansey-just-gansey @glossy-vanilla @thatoddgirl777

#red queen #red queen fandom #evangeline samos #mare barrow #elane haven #evangelane #red queen fanfic #rq fanfic #evangeline of montfort #ash garden

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gelo-p · 4 years

Text

What trying for T10 ~kinda~ looks like

My friend said that the last thing I wrote was all over the place so I decided to rewrite all of it. >_>

So what’s this about?

This is just my own experience (and in a way, method) about tiering in Bandori; most of these, you’ve probably already read somewhere else. To be frank, tiering in Bandori can be summarized as “get the best team you can, prepare lots of flames, pick meta songs, and go like hell”. However, I think it’s important to visualize and plan out what “going like hell” really means.

Most of these will be written as if you’re trying to get into T10 as a solo player.

First things first - Bestdori is your friend.

Bestdori is a website that lets you determine exactly how strong your team really is. If you haven’t checked it out yet, please do so; it’s invaluable in making estimates. Set up an account (you don’t have to, but it’s convenient later on), enter your cards and area items, and then use Bestdori’s team builder feature to determine what the best team to use is for a specific event. This post assumes you won’t need help in using Bestdori; I might write a separate post for that later.

(huge thanks to u/NonSpicyBurrito over at reddit and the rest of the Bestdori team for making an excellent tool ^^)

Table of Contents

“Estimate how much EP you’ll need”: A Fallacy

There are no guarantees, so prepare to lose efficiently

Automating the Guesswork: The T10 Calc

Input: Active Hours Per Day

Input: Multi-Live Score (includes VS Live)

Input: Multi-Live Duration

Input: Challenge Live Score

Input: Challenge Live Duration

Input: Final Hours Sprint

Planning your daily Multi-Live Progress

Planning your daily Challenge Live Progress

Hold on - what’s a “set” ???

Tracking your Flames (and CL’s) per day

Miscellaneous Tips

Final words

I. “Estimate how much EP you’ll need”: A Fallacy

Getting into your desired tier (T1, T2, T3, T10, T100, T1000...) is all about getting enough event points (EP) before the event ends, and nothing else. If only 99 people have higher EP than you, then congrats, you make it to the top 100! And if your EP is so high that only 9 people have it higher, then you make it to the Top 10.

However, there is no good way to estimate how much EP you’ll need to ensure getting into the desired tier. The moment you think you’ve figured it out, the other players start upping the ante and all of a sudden you’re left in the dust.

For example: when I first started estimating the EP I’ll need for Cycling Seasons, I figured 16M would be enough for T10, based on some foolish assumption using data from the last Challenge Live (which was My Ideal). Having read other posts by the other T10′s (post-event), they wondered if 18M would be enough. Surprise, the cutoff turned out to be 18.5M - and I personally did 19.2M.

Where did 18.5M come from? Nowhere. Nobody decided before the event to just “stop” at 18.5M and call it a day. And that’s why you can never actually estimate how much EP you’ll need. As long as there’s someone crazier than you out there, that cutoff is going to be pushed higher and higher.

II. There are no guarantees, so prepare to lose efficiently

Read that header again and again until it sinks in. There are no guarantees. I can tell from personal experience: during the Cycling Seasons event, the player who finished at T11 had a better team than I did (I know from periodically tracking their score), but I was able to put in more effort.

All you can do is put in as much effort as you can, using the best team you can get your hands on; however, should this not work out, you should also learn how to lose efficiently.

There will come a point where the amount of effort you’ve done will almost always** guarantee you a spot in T100. You have to decide at that point - usually after 2 days of playing at T10 pace - if keeping up with T10 is worth it or not. If you decide not to, then congratulations on an early T100.

** In the absolutely rare-as-hell event (never happened before AFAIK because seriously this is crazy AF) that 100 people fight for T10, then you’re going to have to put more effort to stay in T100. Otherwise, just play defensively, and keep yourself above T50. It’ll be easy at that point.

III. Automating the Guesswork: The T10 Calc

If you’re still willing to take the risk, then let’s start talking numbers. This was the first step in planning for me: making sure I know the numbers behind what I’m about to do.

First, grab a copy of the T10 Calc spreadsheet, since this pretty much streamlines the entire estimation process.

T10 Calc over at Google Sheets

Note: I know it’s ironic how it’s called the T10 Calc when I said there are no guarantees, but that’s what I call it, so... ^^;

Go to the EP Estimator Sheet and fill up the inputs.

Num Full Days - An event is always N Days + 6 hours long, so enter the number of full days here. It’s officially announced a day before the actual event, but sometimes Bestdori already has that info as early as a week before. Some events are just 6 days long (lucky~) while others can reach up to 12 (fuck me ugh). Typically it’s 8 or 9.

Num Hours Last Day - An even is always N Days + 6 hours long, so usually keep this at 6. There is a special case where you might want to change this though, discussed later.

Active Hours per Day - The number of hours per day you’ll be playing. This doesn’t include breaks, i.e. Active Hours + Sleep + Breaks = 24

ML Score - Compute using Bestdori. This is your score when playing in Multi-Live / VS Live using 3 flames.

ML Duration - The average duration of a Multi-Live. This is different from the average duration of a song.

CP required per CL: This pretty much stays at 800, since this is the most efficient, time-wise. (There are 200/400-CP CL’s, we won’t use those)

CL score - Compute using Bestdori. This is your score when playing a Challenge Live. If the event isn’t a Challenge Live, please set this to 0 or leave blank.

CL duration - The average duration of a Challenge Live. This is different from the average duration of the challenge song.

Final hours sprint - Specific to Challenge Live events, it’s possible to hold back your CP’s, and instead use them during the final 6 hours of the event.

IV. Input: Active Hours Per Day

The average person can do 14 active hours per day. Which means 14 hours of staring at your phone, and 10 hours left for eating / having a life / sleeping. I found this the hard way; you’re free to make your own estimate. You can bump this up to something higher (I did 14.3), but make sure you don’t lose too much sleep / time for other activities. The higher you can push this, the better.

Have you ever wondered how T1 / T2 / T3′s always get crazy-high scores? Well, they can set this to 24 by sharing their account with teammates using the Data Transfer feature. By having teammates who can take over your account while you rest, your account can do 24 hours a day of gaming. I personally don’t do it (I’m a soloist all the way~), but it doesn’t seem to be a banned practice, so get your own team if you want those titles.

Thankfully, there are only 1-to-3 of these accounts per event, leaving some space for solo players to actually get to T10. WARNING THOUGH! If after a couple of days, you can’t get into T10 because they all have crazy high scores, give up and settle for T100. You can’t fight a 24/7 account.

V. Input: Multi-Live Score (includes VS Lives)

Note: For VS Live Events, you’re obviously expected to play VS Lives instead of Multi-Lives, but for the purpose of naming variables I stuck to the “ML” naming scheme.

No matter the event type, you’re going to have to compute an ML score using Bestdori.

Always use 3 flames for your computation, and because Bestdori gives you the maximum points achievable, dial it down for safety. In my case, I used 4275 instead of 4380. Initially it was 4200; however, after 2 days, I realized that it’s too safe (my actual score was waaaay above my calc sheet’s estimate) so I bumped it up to 4275.

Please note that different event types will give you different scores for the same team; Multi-Lives during Challenge Live events give you a lower EP compared to, say, a VS Live event, because during a Challenge Live, you’re expected to get some of your scores from the Challenge Lives. VS Lives give just a bit more EP than Challenge Lives; however, there won’t actually be any Challenge Lives, so the final EP is smaller. Normal events (where you’re expected to farm using ML’s alone) give the highest EP per ML.

ML Score is directly tied to the room score, and there are four ways to bump it up:

Increase your band’s power. Max out all your area items, and follow Bestdori’s recommended band. If you can afford it, buy your way into better members. Prioritize maxing out items that match the Characters / Attribute of the event.

Choose a Leader with a 90/100/110/115% score boost, and max out their level. Bestdori would have already done this for you. For VS Live, increase everyone’s skill levels.

Join private rooms (where the members are high-level). Joining the Grand Room is okay (that’s what I did), but if you have high-level friends who can help you out with their high-level bands, then it’s better. Conversely, during VS Lives, you want to join a private room where everyone is weaker than you are.

Pick meta songs. Meta songs score higher in general compared to non-meta songs, so try to pick them as much as you can. These include Jumpin’, Unite from A to Z, Home Street, KIZUNA MUSIC, etc... You probably recognize this list.

VI. Input: Multi-Live Duration (includes VS Lives)

This is the amount it takes to complete an entire Multi-Live / VS Live, from the moment you press the “Live” button to the next time you’re able to press it again.

There are two ways to dial down ML duration:

Join private rooms. On average, ML duration is 3.5 minutes in the Grand Room; if someone disconnects, or takes a reeeeally long time to pick, it can take up to 4, even 5 minutes. A good game in a public room is 2 mins and 45 secs long, but those are far and few in between. By joining a private room and agreeing beforehand which songs and difficulties to pick, you can keep the average ML duration down.

Pick meta songs, again. Meta songs are shorter in general compared to non-meta songs, that’s why they’re really good for farming event points. You will keep running into these songs once you start tiering.

SPECIAL NOTE FOR VS LIVES: During VS Lives, there’s an Event Song room, which might prove to be faster than the Free Song room, since there’s no need to select the song. This is especially the case if the event song is a meta song; case in point, the Roselia vs Afterglow event, where the event song was Passionate Anthem. I suggest checking out the Event Room (and song) during the first day, and see if the ML Score and ML Duration will give you a better final EP compared to taking your chances over at the Free Song room.

VII. Input: Challenge Live Score

Note: If you’re not playing a Challenge Live event, set this to 0!

Specific to Challenge Live Events, you also have to compute your CL score. A Challenge Live event will have a list of featured songs (you can look this up in advance using Bestdori). Take for example the Cycling Seasons event:

Songs higher up in the list are better for your score, but I find that the first Hard song in the list is less tiring to play, giving me more consistent scores (in this case, Brand New Days level 18).

If you can genuinely manage playing the EX / SP songs multiple times consistently, then please do so.

Once you’ve settled into a song, calculate your CL score. Always use 800 CP.

Again, better to have a safety net, so instead of using 26,380 I used 25000. You’ll get a good feel for this value once you’ve actually started playing the CL songs. Just update the estimate later on.

You can bump this up by getting all members of your team as strong as you can. Area items, max skill levels.

VIII. Input: Challenge Live Duration

Like ML Duration, this is the amount it takes to complete an entire Challenge Live, from the moment you press the “Live” button to the next time you’re able to press it again. There’s no way to bring this down, since you’ll be playing the same song over and over again (to get a consistent CL score, see above).

Use an external timer to get the exact time this takes. Add a few seconds for safety, because the phone slows down after some time. For example, Brand New Days takes 2 mins 12 seconds long, but it can slow down up to 2 mins 22 secs long (according to my timing) once you’ve played enough.

IX. Input: Final Hours Sprint

This is unique to Challenge Lives, because it’s possible to stock up on CP’s and use them all up during the last hours of the event.

When this is set to > 0 (but capped at 6, for the number of hours in the last day), the estimator will calculate how much CP you should save up to perform the sprint during the last day.

A sprint is simply a period where you start using your CP’s. If you save up your CP’s until the very last hours, it’s possible to catch a few people off guard who thought you’ve ran out of CP already. Sprints let you earn a really high amount of EP in a short time, letting you overtake other people. There are still daily sprints, but not as much as the final day sprint. (You will still play Challenge Lives every day, you’re just not going to use them all up)

This will not affect your final score; this is just so your opponents could be tricked into not giving too much effort, thinking you use up your CP everyday. Please note however that most T10′s will also hold back their daily CP usage, but from what I gathered, most of them will sprint during the last full day, and not during the final 6 hours.

This won’t have any advantage if everyone else decides to hold back their sprints until the final 6 hours.

X. Planning your daily Multi-Live Progress

Now that you know how much effort you’ll be putting into tiering, you can now determine your Final EP and the number of Flames you’ll need to get there.

If you’re lacking in Flames, better start buying stars early. The premium boxes are the most economic; however, you have to buy them months in advance, because it takes 25 days to reap the full benefits.

If you’re not satisfied with your estimated Final EP, then you have to start finding ways to bring up your live scores, bring down your live durations, or increase how much time you can play for in a day.

Use Bestdori to simulate past events and see how you’ll fare. ^_^

Now, assuming you’re already satisfied with your target EP (again, no guarantees...), the next step is to ensure you’re on track getting there. This is where Flames used per full day comes in. If you want to evenly distribute the load over the duration of the entire event, then you must use at least this much flames per day. It’s easy to think you’ll just catch up, but might prove difficult (remember, you barely have enough time for sleep and other activities). On the other hand, if after reaching your quota you have enough strength to keep going, then please do so.

Of course, the final 6 hours isn’t a full day, so for that, please refer to Flames used during final hours.

XI. Planning your daily Challenge Live Progress

Note: The Challenge Live section should become empty if CL score is set to 0; conversely, the Normal / VS / Live Goals / Mission section should be empty if CL score is set to > 0. Also, a lot of these are just stats used in computing more important stats.

For Challenge Lives, the idea is the same: you have a quota of Flames to use per day, but now you also have a quota of Challenge Lives played per day. Both of these already take your Final Hours Sprint into account. The longer you plan to sprint, the more flames you have to consume per day, and the less CL’s you have to play per day (because you’re concentrating a lot of the CL’s in the final 6 hours). You’re still going to play the exact number of ML’s and CL’s, you’re just rearranging them.

If you don’t plan on sprinting (Final Hours Sprint = 0), then the final hours is just like any other day: the same amount of Flames and CL’s per hour, except for just 6 hours.

Should you decide to split the final 6 hours (Final Hours Sprint > 0, < 6), then you’ll have a few hours where you’re playing normally (mixed ML’s and CL’s), and then the final hours will be for CL’s only.

If you plan on using the full 6 hours for a final sprint (Final Hours Sprint = 6), then that’s all you need to do: play CL’s one after another for 6 hours straight. Please start at least half an hour earlier to account for possible interruptions. You need to consume all your Challenge Points before the event ends.

If you want to dedicate the final 6 hours to a sprint, but only want to do it for 4 hours (as an example), then please do the following:

Note your current total active hours.

Set num hours last day to 4.

Set final hours sprint to 4.

At this point, your total active hours should drop.

Slowly increase your active hours per day until you’re back to your original total active hours.

Since you’re “forfeiting” 2 hours of the final 6 hours, you have to make up for this by playing a bit more per day.

XII. Hold on - what’s a “set” ???

You need 800 CP to perform a Challenge Live, and in order to get 800 CP you need to play (in my example) 3.74 games on average. A “set” is the set of these 3.74 ML games + the CL it activates. That’s how you get set duration: 3.74 ML x 3.5 mins / ML + 2.37 mins of the CL = ~15.45 mins (it’s 15.46 when computed manually; Excel just rounded off 3.74 differently).

I just refer to it as a “set” for the purposes of calculation. Since you won’t actually be playing ML’s and CL’s one after the other (it’s more time-efficient to play a bunch of ML’s and then a bunch of ML’s, especially if you need to switch teams), you can just ignore the idea that you have to play in terms of “sets”.

XIII. Tracking your Flames (and CL’s) per day

Now that you know your daily quotas, it’s time to visualize them. Using the Excel file, head over to the Tracker Meta sheet:

Enter the current full day of the event, and it will automatically compute how many Flames and CL’s you should have used by the end of the current day.

Please keep playing until both “Remaining” fields are 0. ^_^ (they will of course increase once you move to the next day)

There is an Estimated Current Score based on the number of games you’ve played. If your actual score is below this estimated score after a day, then you overestimated your scores, and should immediately bring them down. Conversely, if your actual score is above the estimated score, then you made too safe estimates. You can probably increase your average ML score / CL score when that happens (I personally did this, from 4200 ML score to 4275).

To actually enter how many flames and CL’s you’ve consumed, head to the Tracker sheet.

Every time you finish a song (while the fireworks are exploding, to make better use of that time), enter a “3″ under the Flames column, or a “1″ under the Challenge column (if playing a CL). The timestamp should automatically be filled up (instructions inside the Excel file); if it doesn’t work, just delete the timestamp column, it’s not important anyway.

Note: The timestamp column has since been deleted, after migrating the document to Google Sheets. It’s not relevant anymore, but other functions should still work as intended.

Based on your current iteration (which day you’re in) and the number of games you’ve already played, you’ll know conveniently what time your misery would actually end for the day ^o^

(If you rest for one hour, you’ll find that the hours left won’t change, and that the estimated end time would also be pushed back one hour.)

It’s also possible to enter 0.25 / 0.5 under the Challenge column, if you somehow decide to play 200 / 400-CP CL’s. I don’t recommend it, but at least when starting out and just trying out the songs, you can still plot accurately.

One thing I personally do is enter a “2″ under the Flames section when I finish an ML with a score that’s significantly lower than my estimate. This lets me ensure that my estimated score won’t be higher than my actual score. However, I have to use one extra flame to catch up - and that means in the end, I’ll end up using more flames than what was actually planned.

Note: The tracker is only meant to be used until the last full day. I don’t think tracking the final 6 hours is necessarily useful; better to focus on just playing at that point, and give your best! ^o^

XIV. Miscellaneous Tips

During the first day, obviously, you’ll be playing CL’s after the ML’s (since you don’t have CP’s yet).

Starting the 3rd day, however, I found it easier to play all the CL’s before the all ML’s. This also lets me avoid a long-ass sprint (imagine finishing the last full day with a sprint... only to follow it up with a 5-hour sprint). This is only applicable if you plan to do a final sprint, since you’ll have reserved CP’s by this time. Your mileage may vary, just something you might want to consider.

Now, I didn’t discover this by accident - I actually woke up one morning and found there was no internet. Yes, that did happen. Thankfully, because I had enough CP to spare, I was able to stay productive and “passed” the time burning through my CP’s instead (mobile data proved to be stable enough for CL’s). That’s one advantage of not immediately consuming all your CP’s - it lets you stay productive (assuming you have mobile data) when the internet fails.

If you do lose internet and the only way to earn event points is via playing ML’s, then you’re fucked. Go to sleep, and make up for it once the internet is back. You have to hit your quotas, and if you aren’t playing, then you should be resting. Same thing when there’s an emergency maintenance.

When playing in a public room, if another player is taking too long to load, you might want to disconnect - especially when their progress bar resets. This is admittedly a dick move, but in my experience, 50% of the time, that player is going to lose connection in the middle of the game, and your room score is going to suffer. It’s still up to you. That said, don’t disconnect while loading a VS Live.

When you’re already tired, and you think there’s a chance you’ll fail the chosen song in Expert, just pick Hard. The billion times Jumpin’ was chosen, I played it in Hard. No shame in that.

You might want to start tracking the scores of other T10 contenders at some point. For non-Challenge Lives, this lets you know how many hours a day they’re actually playing (since EP gain is proportional to time played); for Challenge Lives, this can give you some idea if they’ve already sprinted or not (if they gained waaay more points than usual, you know they’ve expended some, maybe all, of their CP). Now, this info might not matter, since you already have a planned amount of effort anyway, but if you see that you’re severely lagging behind, start considering stepping up, or backing down.

If you do make it into the T10 at some point, make sure to set stupid profile comments. It’s your time under the spotlight, have fun with it XD (don’t put offensive comments please) ... just don’t take 30 minutes to decide.

Prime examples. 😎

XV. Final words

Whew! I don’t know how much of these is new information to any of you, but I hope at the very least that the Spreadsheet helps. >///< If you have questions please don’t hesitate to ask me!

Most people who try for T10 will have friends to help them. I cannot, in good faith, recommend doing this alone like I did, especially during a major event.

However, that being said, I can understand the feeling of wanting to do it anyway.

SO! Good luck, have fun, 7000+ go like hell, and hey-hey-hoh~! ^o^

#bandori #bang dream #gelo-p is talking crazy shit again #yeah i like racing

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jflashandclash · 5 years

Text

Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Thirty-seven: Ajax

I am No Longer A Baby Panda

Later, Pax would say he admired his mother’s stylish entrance.

At the time, he was just horrified. And maybe a little annoyed. He’d been proud of himself for getting back Frank’s stick and not having to sleep with his sister (something, he realized, really ought to cue him in that he had hit an all-time-low) and now the Goddess of Night had to steal the limelight—haha, steal the light—and tackle Apollo out of the sky.

Everything happened at once.

As the sun fell, ghostly silhouettes groaned out of the blackness. The lingering ghosts spilled from the forests, out of the shadows they’d been watching, and cackled with gleeful war cries.

Rotting corpses staggered towards Camp Half-Blood, an army at least four times larger than the one the Romans had been holding back earlier. Melinoe, her half-mummified, half-fireplace fabulous carcass, led the charge.

The piercing notes of a pipe echoed through the fields and a huntress, a Greek, and a Roman[1] standing guard at the border collapsed.

A suction of warm air eased away from the camp, and Pax knew the Mist shield—if it had been recovering—was completely down again.

The ground rumbled. Pax hoped, but doubted, that it was Nico or Axel to the rescue with a secret, giant mole army.

Instead, a massive black serpent exploded from—if Pax had to guess—that hole in the ground that Jack had voice-activated outside Hera’s cabin. You know, the major weakness of their defenses in the center of the camp that really ought to have a Welcome, Python, sign, We Forgot You RSVPed.

By now, the screams were omnipresent.

When Python collapsed onto the Apollo cabin, Pax liked to think there were as many screams afterwards as before Python decided to use the once-golden structure as a back scratcher.

Romans spilled out of the barracks. Greeks scrambled out of their cabins, er, the cabins that were left.

“Turn on the field lights!” Frank shouted from somewhere by the barracks.

The Canadian’s orders came to light and brought the ghastly attackers to high definition. The thump of the field lights echoed around the strawberry field. Pax had to wonder if substitute sunlight could weaken ghosts, and, if so, whether the Romans should seriously consider adding horticultural LED grow-lamps to their infantry.

Michael Kahale and Butch were with half-a-dozen demigods towards their edge of the strawberry field, apparently having been planning defenses for this evening. Well, surprise!

In a breath’s pause, Butch looked towards Python and Kahale blinked at the advancing ghoul army. The debate on whether to help with Python or guard the border lasted all of Michael Kahale ordering the troops to stand strong on the strawberry field. “To arms! Defend our barrier!”

What a mighty battle cry Michael missed out on; Pax would have said, Defend our berries!

Pax felt like he was watching an old family movie as his mother tossed her Molotov cocktail up and down. The flame flickered, making the malicious zeal in her eyes glitter. She wore black tactical pants, a torn up red and black shirt with a circled and slashed A, a black bandana to conceal half her face, and—

When she launched her Molotov cocktail, everything became too real.

Pax wanted to say, Nice throw, since he’d forgotten his mother was a goddess and lobbing a bottle of alcohol was as easy as tossing rice at a wedding, though that probably was what she tossed at weddings. The bottle went clean over half the strawberry field, far beyond where Percy was cursing Eris at his throne of Saturnalia.

The glass shattered.

Michael Kahale went up in flames.

There were more screams.

He dropped to the ground, rolling, tearing at his armor.

Two other soldiers dropped beside him. One went to rip Michael’s armor off, the other frantically shoved dirt onto him.

Watching the fire and screaming centurion, Pax clutched Frank’s stick to his chest. He felt like the stupid thing could burst into flames by sheer peer pressure.

A laugh with the same giggling mania as the Joker’s filled the battlefield along with the flick of a match.

Eris jumped up and down in excitement as she tossed another bottle from hand to hand. “Terror Muffin! Come paint with me! I’ll bet I can make my masterpiece more vibrant than yours!”

Pax, stupidly, went to shout a warning, like Michael Kahale and the others might be confused or capable of defending themselves from the whole “flaming bombs” thing.

As he opened his mouth, something much louder made an inhuman wail about ten feet behind him.

There was a crunch of metal and bone.

At the same time, the Silver-Tongued helm attached to his waist shrieked.

One of our brethren is in danger!

Really, Pax wanted to ask the helm why it didn’t open up more often. He was offended by the lack of weekly coffee chats—Axel’s helm talked to Axel all the time--but now wasn’t the time.

The shriek left him confused, with a lovely punched-by-a-minotaur-in-the-stomach sense of dread.

One horrifying thing at a time.

When he looked up to see the Molotov cocktail’s destruction, a blinding flash of light arched over the demigods.

The bottle hit something, exploded along the arch, and burned out, leaving the split second image of a brilliant, mini rainbow.

As the beams of colors faded, Pax could see Butch, the giant child of Iris, scowling hatefully in their direction. His arms were raised, one with a mister bottle, the other with a flashlight.

Rainbows were some powerful shit.

Pax wanted to slowly back up, put his hands in his pockets, and walk away whistling.

But he had to stop his mother from withdrawing a grenade from her utility belt.

He needed to chastise her: utility belts were definitely something that shouldn’t be used by evil. Only comic book heroes.

“Mom! Stop!” Pax cried. The shock faded enough for Pax to sprint towards her.

Her grenade didn’t even have a pin in it. From what he could see, it was held together by a hair band.

As she slipped the hair band back onto her wrist and cranked her arm for the throw, Pax slapped her hand.

The grenade tumbled out of her grip. While in mid-air, he kicked it as hard as he could towards Farm Road.

In the last few moments, he tackled his mother away—

An explosion popped his ears. Dirt sprayed his back.

Before the dust had settled, his mother was already squirming to shove him off. Pax wished he could hug the homicidal out of her and have them all go on a nice, non-violent family picnic after this, whatever was left of his family. Merry wouldn’t hurt Hiro, but he’d watched Jason kill someone Pax loved before. He hoped Lapis and Axel were okay.

“My Little Terror Muffin, what’s the matter?” she cooed, digging her talon-like nails into his recently-fractured shoulder. “The Greeks and Romans massacred all your friends and hunted you into hiding. This is the perfect opportunity for you to have a little fun. Don’t you want to honor your friends and let Momma have a nice Bring Your Son to Work Day?”

Pax whined in pain. He fumbled to withdraw a dart from his belt with his hand with functional tendons. He feared he didn’t have the dexterity with the other. Pax didn’t know if his darts would knock out a goddess, or if he had any Morpheus dust left to do the trick.

His belt wasn’t there.

Axel had shredded it and Pax left the remains in the Hermes cabin. All he had was Frank’s stick and the Silver-Tongued Snake helm on a rope around his waist, because he feared the Hermes little ones would play with it.

Pax wanted to cheerily brush his mother’s comment off. Instead, his mouth worked on its own. “Stop pretending all the messed up stuff you and Dad do is for me!” he snarled.

Pax meeped when his mother lifted him up like he was a small child. When she stood, they were several feet higher off the ground than they should have been. She was feeding off the chaos around them, growing. He trembled to think she’d be more powerful with each second of this battle.

But, Pax realized, he was her son. It ran in the family.

Although he felt small and baby-panda-like, Pax could discern the delirious sensation coursing through his limbs, like it had during the pandemonium when the Heroes of Olympus collided with the Traitors from Mount Othrys.

The feeling normally made him nauseous. Normally, he wished desperately he could get a high off a party, like Merry, or off two people in love, like Calex, or a song, like Kally.

This time, Pax didn’t try to stop the tugging in his stomach. An uncomfortable acceptance settled over him, putting him at ease with the surrounding screams and mayhem: Greeks and Romans were going to die during this battle, he and his brother were never going to be the same after what Ares and Aphrodite did to them, his family was in tatters and needed major therapy, everyone in this camp would die if he, Kally, Alabaster, and a handful of fighters didn’t level up, and if he kept pretending his family was a pack of misunderstood puppies.

Axel or Jack or someone else always came to the rescue. If Pax could let go, maybe if he stopped acting like a baby panda, he could protect other baby pandas still in Camp Half-Blood.

“Terror Muffin, I only want you to experience life and glee as fully as I do,” Eris cooed. She was about to toss him, he could feel her winding up. But Pax was the Silver-Tongued Snake, the former spymaster from Kronos’ army, and known for weaseling his way out of everything. “What is that silly saying they have? Be the change you want to see in the world? I’m setting a good example for someone I love.”

She nuzzled the top of his head with her chin. Her body tensed for the throw.

In a motion Hunnie, Baller, and Nietz would have been proud of, he latched onto his mother, digging his functional fingers into the skin above her kidney and chomping down hard with his teeth.

Eris lost her grip on Pax.

He thrashed and squirmed his way out, springing off her to land on his feet.

Pax stood a foot taller than the highest field light, his breath was ragged, and a hysterical laugh spilled from his lips. “I am not a baby panda!” he cried triumphantly.

Eris touched her back, her fingers returning with golden ichor smearing them. “Terror Muffin?” she asked, her serial killer grin one of amusement.

“Sorry. Internal monologue. It’s a main character thing,” he said. “Now, for the reprise. You and Dad always say you do this stuff because you love me.” Pax doned the Silver-Tongued Snake helm, feeling the warm enhancement of strength slither through him. He cracked his neck and withdrew Frank’s stick like it was one of his daggers. “If this is love, I don’t want to be loved!”

Pax really hoped this battle would be over soon, else he wasted a kick-ass line.

Eris’ wide, excited gaze turned adoring. “Your tricks won’t work on me, Terror Muffin. There’s no one you can turn into that would make me stop. You can’t puppet me the way you did the little Valdez. We have the same powers. You’re my son.”

“I’m not just your son. And I’m not letting you, or anyone else from our family hurt these baby pandas,” Pax said. He wished he would have pickpocketed her lighter off her, but he hadn’t felt one when he weaseled away. Instead, he focused on Frank’s stick, hoping it was as easily influenced as he thought. He also hoped this thing had a “slow burn” option or an alarm that would flash with, Destruction of Canadian: Imminent.

The tip burst into flames.

Pax bit his tongue, whining at the blood dribbling out—how did Axel do this every time without complaining?--and said the incantation he’d only ever successfully recited during the battle for Mount Othrys, something he’d heard Frasco do before he died. “Xma’su’tal Xib, Liik’il Ch’iich’!”[2]

Pax spit his blood into the flames. The red glow flared a brilliant turquoise. Pain flared as he felt his limbs elongate and his bones alter. What he was excited to say, and had rehearsed a few times in his head, was, “I’ll show you why you don’t mess with a Mayan warrior-prince!” but what came out was more of a, “Aye! Aye! OW! How does Axel do this all the time?!”

Sorry for some of the bravado, I’ll admit, I’ve been watching WAY too much anime recently.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D

Footnotes:

[1] As Mel pointed out, excellent start to a joke, “A huntress, a Greek, and a Roman were standing guard…”

[2] “Abandon the man, ascend the eagle/bird.”

#TOO #HOO #PJO #fanfiction #Pax #Eris #Have you ever wanted to see someone from the first Cohort on fire?#You have?!?!#:D

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sorikkung · 6 years

Note

You did an intro to got7 a while ago could you maybe do one for A.C.E.??? They seem like a good group but I'm clueless atm so it would be v helpful!!!

lololol i did an intro to mark from got7 but not got7 as a whole, but yes ofc i will i love my talented bois and i love rambling about them heRE WE G O

an introduction to a.c.e, for dummies (jk ily choice is a great fandom pls join us)

also this is gonna get rlly long so im gonna put it under a cut

A.C.E is a 5-member boygroup under beat interactive!! which is a p small company atm so my boys dont exactly have the high quality living and practice areas and food that they deserve :(( THEYLL GET THERE THO IM SURE OF IT THEYRE LEGENDS

here’s their youtube channel with aaaaall sorts of goodies

i started stanning a.c.e predebut, bc they had a lot of content for a group that hadn’t debuted yet, and it was enough to snatch my attention real quick so you should check that shit out, they did a shitton of AMAZING covers and to get their name out there more, street buskings its a lot but i swear its worth your time theyre so talented!!

also they have matching tracksuits what more could you ask for tbh (as you can see from that vid, they’re literally so fucking extra)

a few of my favs are

this rlly long busking video w girl group songs and just a bit of everything tbh,

THIS amazing remix/cover of kard’s don’t recall by the rap line + this one cute girl,

only THE most iconic playing w fire cover, band version, (I WILL NEVER STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THAT VIDEO HONESTLY I COULD MAKE A POST ON THAT COVER ALONE ISTG)

their flashlight cover that is enough to make a grown man cry omfuckigngOD it makes me feel things hjskskkh

that ONE TAKE dance cover they did of 3 of taeyangs songs, all focusing on a different member of the dance line

im gonna stop here before i link every damn cover they made

okay so now that thats covered (bad-um-tss) time for…DEBUT

THIs beauty right here is their debut song cactus, which has this really deep meaning to it. bc they came from a small company so they have to work extra hard to even be able to debut let alone be successful and they’re like a cactus bc cacti grow in the desert where there’s very little water but they still manage to stand strong even through the hardest of weather an environment conditions and eventually sprout beautiful flowers,, buuuuuut its also a meme for obvious reasons.

tbh debut era choice culture was just listening to cactus on repeat for days bc it was their only song at the time skjslaas not much has changed tbh LMAO but yes theyre a very edm loving group so their DANCE SKILLS ARE ON POINT SERIOUSLY IVE SEEN FEW GROUPS AS AMAZING AT DANCING AS ACE WOWOW

oh yeah did i mention that their fandom name is choice and that choice are literally the softest fandom my multifandom ass has e v e r been in?? theres literally no cringy or toxic side of the fandom its just so soft and welcoming and pure and everyone is so nice and sweet and friendly and just??? wow i love choice a lot hjkskjsshkhk choice are also SUPER talented too stan talent stan choice

speaking of cringe ace is that group that just like skipped the entire “rlly cringy boygroup debut phase” completely like no weird debut haircuts or outfits or weird lyrics about girls, well actually thats all kinda objective but like they made those outfits work ok and im a cactus isnt that weird of a lyric if you know the deep meaning behind it

aS yOu CaN sEe, cactus era was the era of the tHIGHS and the hot pants. it was literally so iconic it blew up and with great reason too, have you seen those thighs?? AND THEY KNOW IT TOO they even mentioned they chose the hot pants as their style concept and took better care of their legs than their faces. true kings. heres a video of a.c.e talking about the whole hot pants thing and just their legs in general its some quality shit. and heres a video where they decide to show off just how great their thighs are bc they like to kill choices like that, this video is important and iconic bc its where the wowson ship began and also when they declared who the king of thighs were amongst the kings of thighs. definitely a necessary watch for new choice imo. donghun lowkey grinds on the floor at 4:04, you’ve been warned. honestly that video just gets progressively gayer lmao i love it

also for us international choice they made an ENGLISH cover of cactus CAN YOU BELIEVE IT I LOVE THEM SM they didnt have to but they did and oml stan a group who stans you back this hard their english aint that great but theyre trying and i appreciate it so much theyre so amazing look

five months later they dropped their second single, callin’, and b o y was this a stressful comeback, beat had us FOOLEd,, i genuinely thought it was gonna be a flowerboy soft concept yknow with like some sweet lowkey ballad or soft pop song, but nOOooOOOooo, MORE HARDSTYLE EDM not that im complaining callin is a bop but i was TRICKED

LOOK AT THIS SHIT ITS ALL AESTHETIC AND THE CLIP OF THE SONG WAS ALL SOFT I WAS REALLY EXPECTING SMTH SOFT im sorry im still salty that beat tricked me but ITS FINE bc callin is a HELLA BOP like i honestly didnt expect them to top cactus so quickly bc like cactus was hella but they DID and its amazing and heres the link be blessed (warning, these gifs above make it look like a soft vid but there are LOTS of flashing colours and lights and its really intense on the eyes if youre not comfortable with that dont watch, just listen)

they also supplied multiple dance pracs you can find on their channel for callin bc ace feeds us well, although callin had a reaaaally short promotion period bc right after they got thrown onto survival shows for more publicity, but hey, its working!! choice is growing bigger every day and im so proud

donghun, wow and jason all went on yg’s show mixnine, and jun and chan went on the idol rebooting show, the unit. both teams are doing EXTREMELY well on their respective shows!! but ill talk more about that in their individual member profiles bc they havent been put on the same team for anything yet rip

edit: mixnine finished and donghun and jason made the cut for the final group, sehyoon didn’t :(( so dongson will be promoting with the mixnine group for a lil bit!! also chan made it to the unit debut group but jun didnt. im hoping for a sehyjun subunit pls

that was long af but now im gonna dive into the members individually!! so its probs gonna get twice as long sorrynotsorry i warned you

Jun (Park Junhee)

jun is the so-called fiery leader of ace (also lead dancer and lead vocal) but is honestly just a giant dork and a sweetheart. hes the type of guy who you scream at for being dumb and call him an idiot but thats your weird way of expressing your undying love for him?? ask literally any jun stan, they’ll say they hate him. hate him for being so PERFECT like a fucking DISNEY PRINCE he’s the designated prince of the group you know theres always that one member and hes just so LOVEABLE and stupid and skjdakhkjs he fuckign dropped his cake on his birthday when do your faves ever. dad of the group, probably lost the maknaes in the shopping mall about 3 times already. talks a lot, hates aegyo, his members might be planning on sacrificing him to satan? he does on idol class with chan every…i think its wednesday and fans vote who gets punishments n stuff and jun loses every damn time i think hes losing his faith in choice lmao. #saveleaderjun

he’s kinda married to donghun, they’re the parents of ace but donghun might try murder him in his sleep idk man, but now hes on the unit with chan and theyre all cute and you can literally ship everyone with everyone in this group

he has HELLA charisma on stage tho oh my gOd also he has one of the most unique singing voices ive ever heard so its really easy to single out, his face also is the first i learned to tell apart?? he has rlly high cheekbones and a wide but thin smile.

this is actually an ot5 video not just jun but jun’s reaction was by far the most iconic so i have to put it in his section, get you a fave who can FLY lmaooo

it would be CRIMINAL if i didnt solo out jun’s ringa linga cover, thE MOST ICONIC JUN COVER EVER HJFKDSJKFDSJK if i ever stop talking about this assume im dead bc IVE NEVER GOTTEN OVER IT jun in a leather jacket looking all rude and staring at the camera like that im WEAK, SO WEAK, AAAAAAAAHHHH

[ahem] MOVING ON

Donghun (Lee Donghun)

donghun, sometimes romanised as donghoon and often referred to by choice as hun or hoon, is the oldest member of the group and another total sweetheart, honestly ace is just a group of sweethearts, he cares for his members so damn much and is super soft?? but ALSO A s Av Age he’s on mixnine with sehyoon and jason and he SHOT DOWN YG, once again I C O N I C, yg was at a loss for words, heres more receipts of him being savage, i love my sassy boyfriend. BUT HES ALSO A SWEET NOODLE HJKSHJKS oH and did you know that before he joined a.c.e he had no experience in dancing whatsoever and in a year and a half, he caught up with the other four members that have been dancing since they were kids?? I STAN TALENT YALL you’d literally never be able to guess that bc all of them are like on an equal dance level its insane

also he used to have braces during cactus era and it was the softest shit

[cOUGHS] so like did someone say disrespect,,, bc he can do that too,,,,, aAAAAAAAH the duality of this man istg

he’s the main vocalist and has vO C AL S OF AN A N GEL, he has so much soul and emotion in his voice, and has adlibs for days oh my god, he also has the MOST BEAUTIFUL FALSETTO i’ve ever heard, fight me, actually come at me. his voice works REALLY well with chan so they pair him up with him for quite a handful of covers like the all of me one i linked (one of my favs omfg it makes me emo) cause like, his soulful voice plus chan’s higher, sweet voice just sounds so great together i love our main vocals wow.

sPEAKING OF WOW,

Wow (Kim Sehyoon)

his stage name is wow, but its hard to take seriously so the fandom just calls him sehyoon lmfao. it used to be seyoon but when he went on mixnine, he revealed sehyoon was the official romanization so here we are lmao. even if your bias isn’t sehyoon…it’s sehyoon. he’s just that guy ya feel me?? anyways sehyoon is a relatively quiet and reserved guy, but his members really pull out the dork in him, i love it so much?? he doesn’t talk much but when he does all of a.c.e directs their full attention to him to listen, its really sweet, hes pretty awkward with people but you can tell he just feels so safe and comfortable with ace it honestly warms my heart. he’s the main rapper and main dancer, but!! our multitalented man is also a vocalist. yes, you heard, me, the main rapper can sing, and really well at that. (if you scroll up back to the flashlight and dont recall covers, you can see more of his voice.)

gets the least lines, but not by much. although hearing his singing voice in their actual songs has happened like with 2 lines?? so idk man im just waiting for their ballad song that theyre apparently doing for their third song, god im so ready. i love his voice a lot, damn.

he’s also like reeeeeeeeeally gay for jason…the entire fandom ships it and they even ship it themselves. wowson, the otp of ace, they honestly just cant keep their hands off eachother??? i know a friend who struggled to tell apart jun and jason so she just looked at who sehyoon was standing next to and instantly knew it was jason. THEYRE SO CLINGY. i love my squishy boyfriends.

OHHH BOY…i really could’ve used an even more disrespectful gif than this but that would ruin the surprise of watching it in the actual video!! as you can see, sehyoon is the K I N G of disrespect on stage, that shy lil fluffle bean you see offstage?? GONE. DISAPPEARED. VANISHED. this is why his stage name is wow, sehyoon disappears and you just go wow. choice has dubbed him king of bodyrolls with great reason, he makes every concept into a sexy concept, he just has that intimidatingly sexy aura to him, its incredible.

now…are you ready….i bet youre not…who am i kidding NOBODY was ready for this shit. on mixnine, sehyoon was picked as leader for one of their stages (i think he was leader for ringa linga too??) and got to choreograph the routine. if you think its already rude 10 seconds in, its all over for you bitches when the lighting goes yellow. i feel the need to repeat, our boy CHOREOGRAPHED THIS. IT WAS ALL HIS IDEA. EVERY. SINGLE. PART. this is the same kid who everyone on the show knew as the shy, quiet, handsome boy. but then.

but then he did this.

Jason (Kim Byeongkwan)

jason is his stage name that he chose for himself but his real name is byeongkwan, its another case of an idol having a stage name and nobody calling them by it?? i mean most new choice call him jason and i personally switch between the two but most choice seem to call him byeongkwan or bk if theyre extra lazy lmao. memers call him byonk sometimes.

jason is the weird child of the group and we all love him…he’s the second lil ball of sunshine and part ½ of the maknae line. he’s often found clinging to sehyoon or literally any of the members bc he’s an affectionate son who loves cuddles okay?? p r o t e c t h i m.

he’s also the lead everything. yeah thats really not fair but jason is op ok?? singing, rapping, dancing, visual, like sehyoon he’s the full package, i can hardly call them the rap line they’re just the op line t b h. triple threats.

on their official twt jason likes to confirm wowson a lot, its p great lololol he’s the biggest wowson shipper of all time. want more wowson? i gotchu, here’s one of my absolute fav moments. (ft. junchan/chun)

he has some HELLA CHARISMA on stage like boy can u pls chill. they also love doing his eye makeup with that red makeup and it looks rlly good bc bk has such pretty eagle eyes and its his Look™ and that along with his onstage persona is a DEADLY COMBINATION HDSJKSKSLKJS

i’m just gonna keep this short; even if your bias isnt byeongkwan, your bias is byeongkwan. he has that affect on everybody. number one bias wrecker out of the fandom t b h apart from sehyoon (he cant be my bias wrecker if he is my bias so im safe :^J)

Chan (Kang Yuchan)

INTRODUCING OUR CHANSHINE, MAIN VOCAL OF ACE, CUTIE MAKNAE CHAN!!!! he always introduces himself as a.c.e’s main vocal cutie maknae chan, its his iconic line and it suits him so well like LOOK AT HIM ISNT HE JUST A FUCKING RAY OF SUNSHINE WHAT A PURE CHILD I MUST PROTECC he’s literally the happy virus y’all AND ACE KNOWS IT TOO heres this one time where donghun even said that looking at chan cheers him up. certified sunshines only, everyone. also watch that whole video its long but its worth your time.

anyways our boy is a main vocal and as mentioned in donghun’s part they harmonize!!! so!! well!! i mean tbh all of ace can harmonize with eachother its the most beautfiul thing but these two are main vocal for a reason okay. if you didn’t already watch it in donghun’s part listen to THIS and have your ears be blessed i cry everytime oh my god skdfhd ALSO THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT ITS LIKE ONE OF MY FAVOURITE VIDEOS ON THE INTERNET i want to cry i lvoe chans voice so much i love chan i love kang yuchan og hmylhdg sodf i was gonna say i swear im sehyoon biased but im not istg ace is bias wrecking me 24/7 its been the hardest group to pick a bias in ever im not kidding i cant even

also known as kang RUDE, chan was all innocent sunshine and daisies until out of the blue he decided to give the disrespect king sehyoon a run for his fucking money. NOBODY FUCKING SAW IT COMING WE ALL THOUGHT HE WAS SO PURE AND THEN HE SUDDENLY STARTED FLASHING HIS ABS EVERYWHERE AND GRINDING ON THE FLOOR AND DOING THAT AND WE JUST CANT HANDLE IT i dont know a kang yuchan please save me oh my lord

okay this already has an ungodly amount of links and honestly i could go on, but this should be a good enough kickstart for you!!

stan talent stan a.c.e everyone. welcome to the choice family. its literally the softest and sweetest fandom out there. we welcome you with open arms and lots of cacti!!!

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auskultu · 6 years

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“I Read the News Today, Oh Boy”

Nat Hentoff, Ramparts, November 1967

You see, we haven’t really started yet, the Beatles. The future stretches out beyond our imagination. There is musical infinity as well. We’ve only just discovered what we can do as musicians. What threshold we can cross. It doesn't matter so much anymore if we’re No. 1 or on the chart. It's all right if the people dislike us. Just don't deny us. — George Harrison

As the rush to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band confirmed, the Beatles are now Art. Jack Kroll, Newsweek’s analyst of Now Culture, proclaimed “A Day in the Life” to be “the Beatles’ ‘Waste Land.’” In the New Statesman, composer-critic-musicologist Wilfred Metiers devoted an entire column to an exegesis of the themes of loneliness that make the album “art of an increasingly subtle kind.”

The Beatles, moreover, are Functional Art. Said the Times Educational Supplement (of London): “Lennon and McCartney’s lyrics represent an important barometer to our society—sentiments which are shared by pupils in every classroom in Britain ... If the record’s understanding were to be reflected in Britain’s teachers, our schools might be more sympathetic institutions than some are now.” In echo, a school superintendent this past July told a conference of music educators in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, how to start their journey across that alarmingly widening generational gap: “If you want to know what youths are thinking and feeling, you cannot find anyone who speaks for them or to them more clearly than the Beatles.” Said Beatles even speak for and to the dead. At the funeral in August of murdered British playwright Joe Orton, the Beatles’ recording of “A Day in the Life” started the decidedly secular service.

And yet three years ago, Paul McCartney insisted, “We have no message and aren’t trying to deliver one.” What is the message now? On one level, it’s not quite clear, even within the company of the four gurus. Tim Leary announces: “The Beatles have taken my place. That latest album—a complete celebration of LSD.” And Paul McCartney, who has indeed taken LSD, says: “After I took it, it opened my eyes. We only use one tenth of our brain. Just think what all we could accomplish if we could only tap that hidden part! It would mean a whole new world. If the politicians would take LSD, there wouldn’t be any more war, or poverty.”

But George Harrison, once a trip-taker, tells the Los Angeles Free Press: “Acid is not the answer, definitely not the answer. It’s enabled people to see a little bit more, but when you really get hip you don’t need it.” And John Lennon, who has also journeyed somewhere into himself through acid, laughs when told that hippies, actual and acolyte, take the initials of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” as a hortatory message. “No,” he says, “my son, Julian, brought a painting home from school and said it was a picture of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.” So what is the message? Look up in the sky—and live.

On another level, however, the message is clear and Beatles-consensual enough. Writing of the Sgt. Pepper implosion, Paul Williams, editor of Crawdaddy, the higher critic of the new sounds and feelings, asserts: “If there’s a message, it’s ‘Dig Yourself.’ ” With a little help from your friends. It’s getting better all the time, and it doesn’t really matter if you’re wrong or right.

But that’s not all. There is also death. The Beatles are, up to a point, hip to death, more so than any other popular music group has ever been. Eleanor Rigby is dead long before the obsequies. And death grins in “A Day in the Life” of the man who blew his mind out in a car. In the same song, the deaths of miners in Lancaster become “four thousand holes ... and though the holes were rather small they had to count them all.”

The man in the car is bloody well dead, the crowd of people who stood and stared has turned away, the miners are in holes, but “though the news was rather sad / Well I just had to laugh. I saw the photograph.” Thus the auto-anesthesia of us all, who will not see pain, who will not believe in death, and who are disappointed when the news is not of pain and death. But could the song also show the Beatles’ own auto-anesthesia? Having seen pain and having thought of death, do they turn to save themselves—and their friends—through magic?

Magic? Wilfred Mellers finds one common bond in the music of Boulez, Cage, Bob Dylan and the Beatles—“an attempt to return to magic, possibly as a substitute for belief.” In an interview with Miles in the International Times, Paul McCartney says: “With any kind of thing, my aim seems to be to distort it, distort it from what we know it as, even with music and visual things and to change it from what it is to see what it could be. To see the potential in it all. To take a note and wreck it and see in that note what else there is in it, that a simple act like distorting it has caused. To take a film and to superimpose on top of it so you can’t quite tell what it is anymore, it’s all trying to create magic, it’s all trying to make things happen so that you don’t know why they’ve happened.”

And George Harrison, anxious for serenity, talks about being only 24 “in this incarnation,” and goes on: “We’re Beatles, and it’s a little scene and we’re playing and we’re pretending to be Beatles, like Harold Wilson’s pretending to be Prime Minister . . . They’re all playing. The Queen is the Queen. The idea that you could wake up and it happens that you’re Queen, it’s amazing but you could all be Queens if you imagine it. . . they’ll have a war quickly if it gets too good, they’ll just pick on the nearest person to save us from our doom. That’s it, soon as you freak out and have a good time, it’s dangerous, but they don’t think of the danger of going into some other country in a tank with a machine-gun and shooting someone. That’s all legal and aboveboard, but you can’t freak out—that’s stupid.”

Magic is dangerous to the world, but the world is more dangerous to the Beatles—and to their friends. And so, there is the leap into the magic of the loving community. We all live in our yellow submarine and our friends are all on board. With our love—we could save the world—if they only knew. [But since they don’t know] “Turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream. It is not dying, it is not dying.” In this, the Beatles and the hippies are together in a search for peace.

And so the Beatles no longer speak to the very young who do not yet know how dangerous the world is, how efficiently numbing, how full of little boxes for them. The very young have turned to the plastic Monkees; but the older teens and many in their twenties and beyond are listening. On the other hand, the Revolver disc was dismissed by a class in a large industrially-centered English school with the words: “Aw no, sir, we don’t like that: it’s all Chinky.”

Beatles records are not on the jukeboxes in the black ghettos nor, I expect, are they the food of magic for those in the lower tracks of any of our schools. Those young abandoned magic with Santa Claus. The Beatles are increasingly for the comfortable and afraid—afraid to be lonely, afraid to be Eleanor Rigby. It is true, as Frank Kofsky writes in the National Guardian, “There are millions of devout followers of Dylan, the Stones, the Beatles, and all the rest, who are in opposition to the society that spawned them and are, in the words of a Jefferson Airplane song, ‘trying to revolutionize tomorrow.’ In hippie communities like San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury, they strive to realize the new socialist man (my label, not theirs) who will be capable of fulfilling to the limit the creative potential of the human race, especially in the arts.”

But, even with a little help from their friends, will these revolutionizers of tomorrow-through love, through consciousness-expansion, through digging themselves on their yellow submarine-change what’s happening out there? Even if you could spike LBJ’s root beer with LSD, what then?

However, as for expanding creative potential among those in the beloved community, the Beatles are indeed among the liberators. They started nibbling at Carl Perkins, Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley. (In that incarnation, George Harrison also picked up on Chet Atkins and Duane Eddy.) They were less black-inflected than the Animals and the Rolling Stones; but along with them and other young British rockers brushed by the blues, the Beatles turned millions of American adolescents onto what had been here all the hurting time. But the young here never did want it raw so they absorbed it through the British filter. Oh yes, some later found Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf and now they’re into their own kind of greyboating with Paul Butterfield and Mike Bloomfield and Big Brother and the Holding Company, but that’s a trip, as it has to be, with a return ticket. I mean, Shankar is beloved, but if he put an evening raga on you at high noon, would you know?

Anyway, the Beatles went on—into and through Buddy Holly, the Nashville communion, Bob Dylan, the Who, the Beach Boys. They were getting to where, as Paul McCartney put it, they could be influenced by themselves. And in their wake they left behind the fake imperatives of the 32-bar tune, “consonant” changes, steady tempos. Harmonies shifted vertiginously, their early modalities grew strange branches, voicings continually surprised themselves, and uncommonly ecumenical textures appeared —the sitar in “Norwegian Wood,” guitar tracks running backwards on “I’m Only Sleeping,” sitar and electronic sounds in “Love You Too,” more electronics in “Tomorrow Never Knows.” Writing of the latter, Mellers discovered “a new sonorous experience in amalgamating avant-garde jazz (Mingus-like jungle noises, Cage-like electronics, folk penta-tonicism, Indian sitars).” And in the Mellotron overlay in “Penny Lane,” he wondered if Lennon and McCartney had been digging Charles Ives.

Sgt. Pepper has further disintegrated paper categories and boundaries to get to where the Beatles could hear where they belong at the moment. Their first album had been recorded in one day. This one, with four to six sessions a week, evolved through more than three months, and is the most heterogeneous, heady mix of possibilities in pop music history. Combs and paper over a string octet and harp on “Lovely Rita”; multiple tracks of percussion and strings into which sitar, tamboura and swor-mandel are imbedded, swirling between 4/4 and 5/4 on “Within You Without You.” Three tambouras, a dilruba, a tabla, an Indian table-harp, a sitar (Harrison), three cellos, and eight violins on “She’s Leaving Home”; Lennon on Hammond organ, recorded at different speeds and then overlaid with electronic echoes, while four harmonicas disport in Being for the “Benefit of Mr. Kite.” And on and on to the 41-piece orchestra in “A Day in the Life” with, as Jack Kroll exults, “a growling, bone-grinding crescendo that drones up like a giant crippled turbine struggling to spin new power into a foundered civilization.”

Where now? The next move, says Paul McCartney, “seems to be things like electronics because it’s a complete new field and there’s a lot of good new sounds to be listened to in it. But if the music itself is just going to jump about five miles ahead, then everyone’s going to be left standing with this gap of five miles that they’ve got to all cross before they can even see what scene these people are on ... That’s what I’d like to do. I’d like to look into that gap a bit.”

As George Harrison says, “You see, we haven’t really started yet, the Beatles. The future stretches out beyond our imagination.” The Beatles are absolutely fre-e-e. “The competition among the best—Bob Dylan, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, among them—is no longer for money,” observes pop chronicler Al Aronowitz in the Saturday Evening Post. “They already have enough of that. The competition is in music . . . The best artists in the business—the aristocracy—are moving into positions of power. They’re making fewer and fewer compromises with commercialism. There’s hardly anything interesting happening outside this exclusive circle.”

Meanwhile Rap Brown tries to find the revolution and the strategists of the New Politics scour the new class for their constituency. But to the Beatles, are they for real? Why be up-tight about anything? “At the back of my brain somewhere,” Paul McCartney says, “there is something telling me now that ... it tells me in a cliche too, it tells me that everything is beautiful.” And so it may be. Who can put down magic that works for the magician?

Must everything be related constantly to the non-psychedelic world? I keep thinking about the Beatles as “an important barometer to our society,” and I remember Donald Michael predicting in The Next Generation that the control centers “will be able to tolerate groups living at different paces and styles, if they show no deliberate intent to alter significantly the drive or direction of the prevailing social processes . . . Isolated and insulated from major and majority preoccupations of the society, and thereby offering no threat to the status quo, these enclaves will provide opportunities for more whimsical, personally paced styles of life.”

But what the hell, like the rest of us with stereo, the Beatles get by with a little help from their friends and they do live up to their promise: “A splendid time is guaranteed for all.” The music’s getting better all the time as the indignant desert birds hover about the shape with a lion body and the head of a man.

#ramparts magazine #sgt. pepper's lonely hearts club band #the beatles #paul mccartney #George harrison #album review #psychedelic rock #counterculture #1967 #1960s #sixties #60s

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theliterateape · 4 years

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Hope Idiotic | Part 27

By David Himmel

Hope Idiotic is a serialized novel. Catch each new part every week on Monday and Thursday.

IT WAS HARD EXPLAINING TO LEXI WHY HE HATED GOING TO INDIANA SO MUCH. To her, Indiana was where her heart was. But she had a lovely family; one that got along and didn’t live in filth or rely on a broke, recovering alcoholic to support it. Chuck and Lexi were from the exact same place—grew up just two blocks away from one another—but they were from completely different worlds. She would never see Cayuga from his point of view, and he would never see it from hers, even if he wanted to.

He also wanted to see what it was like to believe in something. That last trip home really threw him into a mental tailspin. He considered that maybe the reason Lexi was always so calm and collected and had such a happy family life and a positive (though sarcastic) outlook on life was because of her factless faith in a higher power.

Lexi never preached Jesus or bible quotes. She didn’t even identify with one denomination. She belonged to a church that was more like a community center for people with loose faith, unwilling to pay tithes. It was one of those massive churches with the big stage and the movie screen that projected the young preacher to the doting flock. Instead of an organist, there was a pop-rock band that played catchy tunes that could have easily been hits on contemporary radio or VH1. The kind of music Lou liked to listen to on road trips as part of his game, Christian or Pop.

Chuck would never be able to find comfort or understanding in the God of Judeo-Christian thought, but wouldn’t have minded a little bit of that comfortable warm feeling churchgoing people were always talking about.

He began attended services with Lexi at her monster church every Sunday morning. The stories were at least interesting. They were from the same bible that the other religions read from, but this preacher, a twenty-six-year-old married father of two, interpreted them as modern-day lessons taught by men and women of the past. Gone was the fire and brimstone and hocus-pocus Chuck always likened to any sort of spirituality experience.

Over all, it wasn’t a bad way to spend an hour. The people were nice, there was food immediately following the service, and it proved itself to be an aphrodisiac for Lexi because they would screw like animals afterward.

“That’s the problem with all of us. We’re too goddamn sensitive.”

With his mother’s health as good as it could have been, his father ensuring him they were sticking to the menu and shopping regiment, and Lexi happy and horny, Chuck was feeling better than he’d felt in months. Even Melvin had dialed back his micromanagement, which gave Chuck the time to catch up on Liberty work. Yeah, things were good. Was it his going to church that had calmed the waters? Or was it his good efforts paying off? Man was responsible for the actions and the subsequent reactions that occurred in his life. As long as he kept working hard, didn’t overindulge in the beer and could keep Lexi interested in having exciting sex with him, Chuck would be just fine.

But Chuck couldn’t control Gina. So when an email popped up in his work inbox from her that simply said, “Hi,” the rocking increased.

What does an email with no subject and the word “Hi” in the body mean? From anyone else, it would just simply be a stupid greeting. But from a girl who said she once loved him, from a girl who once told him that she couldn’t be there for him during the hard parts, from a girl he hadn’t spoken to in months and was certain was out of his life for good, it had to mean more.

“You’re too sensitive,” I told him as we had a beer during lunch at the Cuban restaurant. “That’s the problem with all of us. We’re too goddamn sensitive.”

After work, Chuck drove to Bella’s. He needed to think. He told Lexi he’d be working late and that she should come over to the house around seven, if she wanted. Having a standing date at home with Lexi was his way of ensuring that he didn’t drink too much. But at Bella’s, as he thought about his sensitivity levels and that damn email, he felt lonely. He missed Lou. He needed a willing ear to listen to him repeat himself over and over until something made sense. He needed Lou to provide advice, which would have just been to keep thinking about it until something made sense. That was the process. Without his friendly therapist and drinking buddy, Chuck was left to his own devices. And those devices got him hammered.

✶

IT WAS A LITTLE PAST TWO IN THE MORNING WHEN I PICKED HIM UP FROM THE HENDERSON POLICE STATION. It cost fifteen hundred to bail him out. Natalie wasn’t happy about paying. But the way I figured it was that it was Chuck’s money anyway, after all of the work he had given me. Besides, Chuck was a friend. And when a friend ends up in the drunk tank after a cop pulls him over for suspicion of driving under the influence, you do what you can to help that friend out. She called it bullshit on the whole, “it-was-Chuck’s-money” thing but had a hard time arguing against helping a friend. Still, she was pissed. Mostly at Chuck. I couldn’t blame her for that.

Lexi had gone home around eleven the night before, after Chuck didn’t show and didn’t respond to one of the ten phone calls and twenty-six texts she sent wondering where he was and whether he was okay. She was clearly unhappy with the news of another DUI staring Chuck in the face. She called Lou the next night—a Friday. He and Michelle, having reconciled following her mea culpa, were having a few drinks at a fancy Near North hotel playing Pick the Hooker, a game he invented with me and Chuck back in Vegas to determine which of the hotel bar’s women were working girls. He let the first call go to voicemail. When Lexi immediately called again, Lou told Michelle, “Maybe something’s wrong. I should take it.”

“Chuck got another DUI last night,” Lexi said. “I don’t know what to do.”

He told her to relax. He told her not to give him a hard time about it; that he probably was kicking his own ass enough. There’s nothing she can do; this is a Chuck thing. Take a breath. Go see a movie. Relax.

“Chuck got a DUI?” Michelle asked when he hung up.

“Looks that way.”

“It’s pathetic,” she said. “I’m tired of your friend ruining things for us.”

“How do you mean?” Lou said.

“It’s not bad enough that he can’t pay you rent, now his girlfriend is interrupting our date night with his problems. Some friend you got there, Lou. Really, a Grade-A kind of guy.”

Lou took a sip of his drink, looked across the lounge and thought to himself, Tall brunette in red with the short, frumpy guy—that’s a whore.

✶

“I ONCE TOLD YOU THAT I DIDN’T THINK YOU HAD TO COMPLETELY QUIT DRINKING,” Lou said to Chuck when they spoke on the phone the next day. It was Saturday and Michelle was at work. “But Jesus, man. Two DUIs? Your luck has run out. Simple as that. You’ve spent all the luck you ever had, and you’re out. Not even running on fumes. Dead in the water. Stalled on the side of the road. You need to stop drinking.”

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

#Hope Idiotic #Novel #Bildungsroman #Dark Humor #Chicago Fiction #Las Vegas Fiction #David Himmel Fiction #David Himmel Novel #David Himmel Author

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