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zertzertzhang · 4 years

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I Need a Hero (Literally) Chapter 2: Deal

The viceroy was a small man.

By that, Nezha meant no taller than four feet. Yes. He was that tiny.

It made Nezha want to excuse himself and forget he ever accepted the case.

“Ahem,” Viceroy Chen cleared his throat. The proud haughtiness that shrouded him minutes before had drained from his body, leaving a puddle of apprehension in his wake.

Nezha could practically hear the gears in Viceroy Chen’s head turn as he debated if he should even trust him.

It was no secret the Viceroy held the same, if not, worse opinion regarding Nezha. The way his beady eyes bulged like he saw the grim reaper himself was comical if under different circumstances.

Though to be fair, Nezha found glee with the fact his mere presence could silence the imp-like man of all arrogant pretense.

It warmed his heart to think that the Viceroy would shut up as soon as he realized he was under the looming shadow of the much taller young man.

“I would like to express my appreciation, once again,” Viceroy Chen emphasized. “For offering to save my bride from the hideous dragon. I will be forever in your debt!”

Staring down at the groveling man, Nezha snorted at the saccharine monologue. If there’s one thing he learned about Chentang Pass over the years, it was the discouraging amount of genuine gratitude and appreciation the people really held inside.

Viceroy Chen was the hallmark of all that. And Nezha would rather choke on a tang-hulu than hear another fake thank you from the old man.

“So you’ll speak to the town on my behalf to allow me full freedom to roam Chentang without the headache from villagers.” It wasn’t a question, more like an affirmation.

Never in his life would Nezha ever find it in himself to beg for favors. He always assumed the silent agreement between him and anyone else would be respected, lest someone wished to become the next barbeque for the community picnic.

“Y-yes!” The Viceroy stretched his grin a bit too wide, compensating for his chattering teeth. “Bring my bride in one piece and your wish is at my command.”

The pompous confidence of the man was the last straw. Nezha didn’t bother to hide his contempt as he leered down at the four-footed Viceroy.

“Don’t get too excited,” Nezha snapped. “She ain’t your wife yet. Who knows maybe the dragon gobbled her up after all these years.”

His outburst earned him a hard slap upside the head from Lady Yin. The mother sent him a dirty look, stunning the young man into momentary silence.

“My apologies, Viceroy!” Lady Yin exclaimed. “He woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. He’s usually a sweetheart, I guarantee it!”

‘Sweetheart’ and ‘Nezha’ never existed in the same sentence. The fact that his mother, someone who his very existence tormented since day one, was the first to suggest so made him burst out cackling.

He never asked for compliments.

Slinging his waistcoat over his shoulders, Nezha blew out a whistle. “Whatever. I’ll get it done. Ya better pay up afterward or you’re dead meat.”

Viceroy Chen whimpered a meek ‘of course’ before hitting the ground on his knees once more. Nezha wasn’t sure if he was begging for his life or repeating his broken record of thanks.

Stupid. Tsking, he stepped out of the manor, ignoring the angry chatter from Lady Yin. Nezha hadn’t the heart to tell her to shut up, so he resorted to blocking the babble from her. One of the many perks of the reincarnation of a spirit orb.

His thoughts trailed back to the quivering Viceroy Chen, tangling into a throbbing mess that pulsed against his skull.

Whoever was in that pagoda was not going to have a happy wedding. Nezha still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact Chen had somehow become the Viceroy amongst all people.

He shuddered at the thought of anyone willing to throw themselves at Chen.

But Nezha was quick to jump over the negatives. At least the woman won’t be cursed anymore, so that’s a plus...He guessed.

Unlike him, no one was going to send a few kisses over and rid him of his problems.

There was no reason to feel sorry for some random stranger who had it better. Pushing the thoughts aside, Nezha found himself strolling near towards the beach, away from Li Manor.

The sun was more than halfway done with its descent behind the mountains, reminding Nezha of the long journey from the Viceroy's manor.

He craved a good stretch after sitting on a horse for hours on end.

Lady Yin noticed his change in route and was on edge in an instant. “Wait Nezha! Where are you going?”

Said man didn’t bother to turn around, rather waving a hand. “I need some time alone. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“But-”

“Relax, mom!” Nezha snapped. “I’m not gonna eat the kids.”

It wasn’t like Lady Yin was in the condition to stop him anyway. No one could. Nezha was off his steed within seconds, darting into the woods before anyone could open their mouths to protest.

The night had just made its entrance not long enough when Nezha found his way back to the beach. He prayed it would help smooth the firing nerves he held down for the entirety of the morning, it usually did the trick.

But the unrelenting growth of an uncomfortable churn in his gut stayed, not budging an inch. It drove him to a mental frenzy knowing he couldn’t control it.

“Ha! Knew you'd be here!” Taiyi’s face popped into Nezha’s view upside down without warning, nearly sending the young man flying backward.

“The hell old man?!”

Nezha almost felt a yelp escape him, but was thankful that it failed to do so. There was no telling what would happen to Taiyi if he caught Nezha ‘acting out of character’ again.

Recalling the last time he wanted to beat Taiyi’s ass in, Nezha’s mind somersaulted before landing back to reality. Right, he promised himself he still had to set Taiyi’s pants on fire.

Unfortunately for Nezha, the slight gleam in his eyes revealed too much.

His master picked up on the red alarms in a second’s notice. Giggling, the deity bounced back a few feet, wagging his finger in Nezha’s face again.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Taiyi said. “I just got these last week on sale, too! You’ll have to wait a bit before you rip ‘em.”

Nezha snorted. “Sure. Be prepared for the double debt. I’ve wanted to go at you for a while now.”

Taiyi widened his eyes with comical intent, putting a hand over his chest in a horrid attempt to look heartbroken.

His student wasn’t impressed.

“You know gods don’t have heart problems right?” Nezha added. Raising a brow, he gave Taiyi a thumbs down.

Grumbling a string of unintelligible words, Taiyi glared. “You know you’re really petty right?”

“Nice to meet you too, kettle,” Nezha retorted, revealing his canines in a sharp smile. A smug look was rewarded to Taiyi, who’s face went through three shades of red.

“Garrrrgh!” Taiyi plopped down next to the youth, out of breath and comebacks. “You win.”

Nezha knew him well enough to know that the deity wasn’t just there to bicker over who had the best debating skills. But he wasn’t interested in beating around the bush this time.

“Seriously, what do you want now.”

Grabbing a pebble from the sand, Nezha made a neat toss to the waters, letting it skid across before sinking to the dark depths.

He waited, all the while digging his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Saw you didn’t come back,” Taiyi said. “Thought you died or something. Viceroy Chen has a very spiky reputation.”

“Piss off!” Nezha growled. He rolled his eyes and trudged further into the water. “He nearly shat himself today.”

Taiyi didn’t relent. “Hey, I was just worried! You never come here for nothing.”

It was going to take a broken tooth to get Nezha to cooperate, and it was obvious it wasn’t going to be today. The deity sighed, flicking his feather duster in exasperation.

Oh, how he wanted to whoop that kid’s ass.

“Just thinking about things,” Nezha replied. Letting out a loud exhale, he continued, “Wondering how that friend would do if he were in my shoes.”

His sudden response had Taiyi’s brows arching in inhumanly shaped degrees. Nezha never revealed his deepest notions without putting up a fight...Maybe ‘never’ was a stretch, but still.

Taiyi looked like he wasn’t sure what to believe. His perturbed pout of the lips reminded Nezha of a stunned fish out of water.

“Dude, you look like you’re gonna kiss somebody,” Nezha joked. But his antics flew over his master’s head.

Clearing his throat, the deity threw him a look, not bothering with an argument of his own. The shift in Taiyi’s gaze turned to one of apprehension as if he was afraid of the conversation’s direction.

“You thinking of that old friend again? The one who played shuttlecock with you?”

“Yeah,” Nezha admitted. “It’s been a year since I’ve seen him.”

He kicked another rock into the sea, whistling as he did so. Despite being a proficient master at masking his discomfort, Nezha had times when even the great bastard child himself couldn’t hide the unease on his face.

His fingers traced the wet sand, mindlessly painting creases onto the smooth canvas, then letting the tides wash it off.

A curse gets lifted, someone gets married, and I get to fight a dragon. What’s not to like?

The nagging pit in his stomach returned, tugging at Nezha’s mind like an unrelenting leach. Embarrassment had his cheeks flaming red, reminding him of his inability to even think straight.

He prayed it wasn’t guilt he felt, given that his motto since day one was to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. The uncomfortable pressure in his chest was a pain in the arse, especially when there’s nothing to feel sorry about. Or at least he hoped.

Nezha was so into his head that he failed to detect the nearing footsteps above him. A pinch of his ears sent him howling, clutching at the pointed tips like they’d been cut off.

An overreaction, for sure, but Nezha wasn’t going to admit that.

“You know you still have me, right?” Taiyi asked. His lack of remorse over Nezha’s ears did him no favors as the latter scooted away in an instant.

“Of course,” Nezha grounded. “A wonderful friend who is so obsessed with me that he stalks me wherever I go.”

He hissed at him to make a point.

Taiyi whimpered. Nezha was positive he was seconds away from a breakdown, with the old man’s eyes enlarging into spheres the size of apples.

The deity stomped his feet. “That’s because I care about you, ya little ingrate! I wiped your mess so many times I lost count. And here I am, thinking that we’re pals.”

Nezha wished his eyes would stay stuck to the back of his head. Thank god Taiyi was sober. He wasn’t down to haul a god with his magnified sensitivity back home at this time of day.

“Quit the guilt-trippin, old geezer.” He handed a spare handkerchief towards his master but made sure he stayed as far away as possible. God snot was not sparkling rainbows as people should know.

Taiyi was back to his old self in a flash, completely disregarding his previous stance. Snatching the cloth away, the deity’s face lit up like a midnight lamp in the dark.

“See! We are friends! I bet I’m the only sappy old man to ever make you offer tissues,” Taiyi insisted.

Nezha glowered. “Shut up!”

His master beamed his vast mouth of teeth at him, inching closer while he was at it. “Ok la!”

He plopped himself right next to Nezha, wiggling his butt into the sand as he tried to find the perfect position. After what felt like hours of him grunting and shuffling for the right comfort, Taiyi found the equilibrium.

Then he fell silent….Very silent.

For once, Nezha thought even the crickets were the loudest things on Earth.

He could feel Taiyi’s eyes boring holes into the side of his face, but he held his ground, refusing to look back. The serene peace was much appreciated; he’d rather not break it.

If only he wasn’t that naive. If only he didn’t speak that fast. Because Taiyi couldn’t make it past five minutes.

“So...When are we gonna leave?” The deity prodded him with his feather duster, oblivious to the twitching muscles on the youth’s face.

Nezha allowed himself to fall backward onto the sand face up, defeated.

He sighed. "Tomorrow."

Then it hit him straight in the chest.

Wait. What?! We-?

“Who’s ‘we’?” Nezha whipped around to Taiyi so hard he heard his neck snap. “Who’s ‘we’?!”

The deity twirled his feather duster, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, y’know. With all the fancy dragons and whatnot, I gotta come with you,” Taiyi said. When he saw the darkening shadows spread across Nezha’s face like wildfire, he backpedaled.

“Plus, it’s more bonding time!” the deity added.

Nezha wanted to hit himself with a brick and pass out. He’d be lucky if he could even find a rock that could accomplish such a thing.

“That’s what I meant,” he retorted. “You’re a literal stalker.”

Kicking a wave of sand at Taiyi, he stood up afterwards to dust himself off. His master paid no attention to the weak assault and continued his barrage of explanations.

“Why do you make it sound like I’m so desperate,” Taiyi wailed. “I’m simply doing my job of protecting my student and making sure he’s improving.”

Nezha snorted. “Yeah, right. More like making sure I’m on a leash.”

Taiyi rolled to a standing position, albeit teetering back and forth. “I’m serious! I gotta keep an eye on you. Besides, I’ve got a bunch of magical treasures that could come in handy!”

The attempt to convince Nezha tumbled into a pool of dung. But the last remark struck a reminder in Nezha. A lightbulb lit in his head as he came to a conclusion. The young man smirked as he stepped closer to the deity, an arm stretched out with an expecting hand.

“Give me the spear and sash and we’re good, old man,” he said.

Taiyi shook his head at the offer. Clutching his belt like his life depended on it, he did his best to scowl at Nezha. “Nuh-uh. That’s not happening.”

The deity’s stubbornness made his student laugh.

“Don’t make me light your ass on fire again,” Nezha warned. He held up a finger, a small flame already dancing around his hand, waiting for its command.

The color drained from Taiyi’s cheeks as he gulped down a big lump.

“Can’t do that. I Locked ‘em in a secret stash for emergency use.”

Nezha huffed. “Then unlock it.”

Crossing his arms, he stared down at the shorter god, not in any mood to drop the case. Under the circumstances, one would think Nezha could tower over a grown man.

But that didn’t move Taiyi one bit. “I said I can’t. It’s got a password.”

By that point, Nezha lost all hope for any sense of normalcy. He needed to smash a rock. Badly.

Slapping a hand to his forehead, the youth threw a burning glare at his master.

“You forgot it didn’t you?”

Taiyi rubbed the back of his head, mumbling something under his breath. “I don’t think so. I swear it’s on a paper somewhere back home.”

Realizing that there wasn’t going to be a way around him, Nezha slumped back. Taiyi was smart if he wanted to be. Whatever it was, he wasn’t getting his precious spear back.

“Fine. You can come,” Nezha said. “Just don’t fuck things up.”

“When did I ever?!” Taiyi complained. He extended the feather duster, trying to whack Nezha. There wasn’t a need to dodge it. The latter snorted, not impressed with the lack of effort.

Nezha sighed. “Nevermind.”

He reclined back onto the sand, hands propping him up. The twisting feeling in his gut waned, but the residual spasms were still there.

Getting married to a viceroy wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a woman. And from the looks of Chen’s estate, he wasn’t lacking in the financial realm.

Nezha smirked. It was probably the only height of his character, if he had any of that in the first place, of course. That princess was a lucky one.

Fuck it. No one ever thought of it. So why should I?

Shoving the last thoughts around Chen to the back of his mind, Nezha exhaled and rolled to his side.

The cool gust of wind caressed his cheeks, whispering their soothing lullaby. Sleep was inviting him to its cave, and after a day like this, Nezha didn’t have the mind to refuse.

He was that close to closing his eyes when a tap on the head brought him to the surface of reality.

“Hey don’t fall asleep here!” Taiyi scolded. “Your mother’s not gonna let me live it down.”

Nezha felt the rush of burning flames course to the tips of his finger. A devilish grin broke into his lips. There wasn’t anyone there to rat him out.

“You asked for it, old man.”

“W-wait stop! Help!” Taiyi shot up into the sky, a blast of light trailing after his rear-end like fireworks.

In Nezha’s defense, the deity created exquisite colors. His only regret was not doing it sooner.

“You filthy lil’ brat!” His master’s voice rained from the top. “I told you this was new!”

But all Taiyi got in return was howling laughter from the young man below. Remorse wasn’t that popular in Nezha’s vocabulary, so an apology wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

A hint of a smile tugged at Nezha’s lips. At least he felt much better now.

Now that he thought about it, gods made really good fireworks.

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

Ao Bing watched as a general scrambled for the tower’s exit.

In just one year of guarding the East Sea Pagoda, he was able to draw a rough idea of all generals within the lands. They were crude, arrogant, boastful, and mannerless.

The one taking his leave had created a new label all for himself; stupid. It wasn’t a word Ao Bing was proud of using. In fact, a tiny part of his pride cracked the moment he realized the man had tried to use a demon-repelling spell against him.

It did the general zero favors when he came bursting in while proclaiming his undying love for the maiden like he had known her for all his life.

He waxed poetic about her smile, which he hadn't seen. He sang praises about her laugh, which he hadn’t heard. He went on for miles describing her hair, which he never touched.

Furthermore, he made Ao Bing’s head throb with pity for whoever may have caught the monstrosity of a speech.

The rescue party ended much worse compared to the others. If he was being honest, Ao Bing wouldn’t even want to consider it an attempt at all.

He didn’t get the chance to practice his Thousand-Year Frozen Palm technique. There was no point. A single punch would’ve sent the general packing.

Humans were a double-edged sword. One moment they were the kindest souls, and the other they were hideous beings with no self-control whatsoever.

Ao Bing was beginning to understand the unified distaste towards them from his clan. Take a man like that general and multiply it by the thousands and humanity would be littered with scum that could still call themselves a ‘man’.

Claws retracting, the dragon prince turned his head towards the room at top of the pagoda.

The princess was staring at him. Her full lips pressed into a grim line, disappointment painted all over her features. A small voice inside Ao Bing’s head hoped she didn’t hear the other colorful things the general said.

If he himself couldn’t hold back the urge to vomit at the words of the man, he didn’t want to know how she would react if she did.

Thank god he never appeared in his human form in front of her, the guilt on his face would’ve eaten him alive.

She let out a visible exhale, before closing the windows with a hard thud. Ao Bing felt the rattle through the core of his bones.

It was surprisingly hard to tell whether or not she despised him. Even with the reality of him being her jailor, she had tried to get him talking multiple times since he started his mission; mostly pointless questions around mundane things.

As per Shen Gong-Bao’s request, Ao Bing never turned up in human form, never spoke back, and never initiated a single interaction. It was a good idea, though. He couldn’t have his emotions blocking him in the long run.

The curse wasn’t for him to break. There was nothing he could do.

But the cold sweat of shame ran down his spine, seeping into the skin of his back. It made him queasy, though he didn’t dare voice it.

Ao Bing sighed, padding across the palace. It was easier to think of his people whenever his mind wandered too far.

Yes, He was doing this for them.

Ao Bing’s thoughts rang a bell, as the familiar footsteps of Shen echoed in the hallways as soon as he finished his musings.

Forming from the shadows like a phantom of the night, the leopard demon morphed into the shape of a human. His yellow eyes glowed beyond the dark like burning amber. The brewing colors hid the storms of thunderous unrest despite his master’s poised exterior.

“I-I-I assume you h-have mastered the T-Thousand-Year F-froz-z-en Palm technique?” Shen inquired. His spindly fingers thumped against one another in frantic dance, betraying his calm veneer.

Ao Bing made no attempt to hide his progress, saluting Shen with a confident bow.

“I have, Master. I’ve perfected bloodstream paralysis of pressure points. It can now be done in one strike.”

Shen Gong-Bao was elated. His eyes narrowed into crescent-shaped moons as he clapped his hands. Even Ao Bing had to admit it was very rare to see his master genuinely smile.

It raised the young dragon’s spirits somewhat.

“E-excellent!” Shen rested a clawed hand on Ao Bing’s shoulder, patting him with good nature. “You’re o-on the right t-track-k! You’ll be able t-t-to overpower the d-demon orb s-soon enough!”

The mention of the demon pill sent Ao Bing’s horns vibrating with nervous anticipation. There was no room for him to mess up.

All he had to do was track down the reincarnation of the demon orb, hold him off long enough in front of thousands of humans to be struck by lightning, and then win the Jade Emperor’s favor.

His father would be freed, and it would be worth all the blood he shed along the past three years.

Shen broke into his thoughts once more, rattling his trail of plans out loud.

“Who knew th-that this girl’s c-curse would serve as the best t-tr-training g-ground for you. I-I’d have to thank w-w-whatever s-stupid god that did it.”

Ao Bing forced a smile to the surface. He wasn’t too keen on getting into the details of the curse. The less he knew the better.

But his body failed to find a muscle to refuse the beaming leopard demon in front of him. He hated to disappoint, and over nothing at that.

Glancing up at his master with stifled unease, Ao Bing waited for the next command.

“Y-your father would be p-pr-proud of you,” Shen continued. “You’ve a-accomplished more th-things than any members of y-your clan could dream of. You j-ju-just have to defeat the demon orb now. I-I have faith in your s-success.”

A calculating gleam flashed across Shen’s eyes, silencing the doubts in Ao Bing’s mind. The young dragon felt a cold wave of resolution wash over his back.

His master was right; winning was the only choice. Ao Bing couldn’t have anything in his way.

Life was never known for its fairness in all the years he’d been alive. What did he expect?

The dragon prince felt the corners of his lips tug downward. He should be grateful for how the events turned out, worse things could’ve happened.

It was as good as it was going to get for everyone.

#nezha #nezha 2019 #fanfiction #ne zha: birth of the demon child #chinese #chinese mythology #original character #adventure #humor #哪吒之魔童降世 #哪吒 #shrek #parody #shrek is love

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disappearingground · 5 years

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Jenny Lewis The Storyteller

Under the Radar July 1, 2008

"I started when I was 2 1/2 years old, and when I was younger I was always very exuberant and I always showed interest in being the center of attention. So, my mother decided that she wanted to put me in acting because I was so interested in it.” – Jenny Lewis, Teen Set, 1991

By Matt Fink

Type the name “Jenny Lewis” into the YouTube search engine, and buried among music videos and footage of late-night television performances you’ll find a 1991 interview from a television show called Teen Set. The segment features the 15-year-old Lewis politely and carefully fielding a series of insultingly banal questions, ranging from those about her burgeoning hat collection to those concerning the then-exotic trampoline in her backyard. But, having already worked as an actress for 12 years at that point, Lewis never loses her poise; never rolls her eyes or seems bored. For those moments, it seems as if she’s playing a role—that of a soon-to-be star. And while she couldn’t have known that her acting career was about to wane just as she took up an interest in playing the guitar and writing songs, it’s not hard to see a master performer in those few awkward moments. She’s simply unshakable.

With Acid Tongue, Jenny Lewis has finally found the role she has been studying for her entire life, the star of a project where she assumes center stage from start to finish. Following up the critically adored Rabbit Fur Coat—the 2006 release that served as her tentative first solo album with The Watson Twins and a brief respite from eight years of intensive touring and recording as one-half of the songwriting team in Rilo Kiley—Lewis has issued an authoritative statement. Where Rabbit Fur Coat was intentionally understated, a shy-around-the-edges tribute to her mother and the soul and country albums from her record collection, she now works in broad strokes. Where her debut was the sound of an artist just dipping her toes in the water of a solo career, not sure if she really could or even wanted to perform without her band, she now attacks her songs with palpable force and theatricality. With Acid Tongue, Lewis is an actress again, but not the plaintive poet of Rabbit Fur Coat. Part confessional siren, part sin-cataloging prophet, Lewis is primarily a storyteller, joined by a cast of characters and collaborators who stretch through every chapter of an already complex personal narrative.

Through it all, one thing is clear: Jenny Lewis might have left the silver screen, but she does know a good role when she sees it. After all, she was born for the stage.

Capturing Moods

“I would have to say meeting new people and going to new places [is the best part of being an actress]. It’s really a great thing if you can do it.” – Jenny Lewis, Teen Set, 1991

“I’ve been getting a lot of questions about LSD, and I really asked for it by naming the record Acid Tongue,” laughs Lewis from her home in Los Angeles, now 32 years old and freshly removed from finishing up her second full-length release. “And I’ve only had one experience with it, and it was really bad. Terrible. Truly the worst 24 hours of my life. I don’t even know where to begin. My friend at the time had an even worse trip than mine and attempted to chase me around the house with a butcher knife.” She adds with a gasp, “It was so wrong.”

And while Acid Tongue is far from a psychedelic rock album, there is a certain hallucinatory haze that hangs over the proceedings. Recorded in her childhood stomping grounds of Van Nuys, California, the album is a homecoming of sorts, with old friends and family popping in and out at a dizzying pace. And everyone sounds like they’re perfectly utilized, from sister Leslie on “See Fernando” to M. Ward’s growling guitar solo on “Pretty Bird” to Elvis Costello’s snarling vocal on “Carpetbaggers.” Having long championed Lewis for her intricately imagined and vividly peopled narratives, Costello found the process so suitable that he ended up using that day’s version of Lewis’ band for his own album.

“I emailed him and sort of put it out there, and he responded and agreed to come down and sing ‘Carpetbaggers’ for me,” Lewis recalls. “As a tradeoff, he asked if we’d be open to recording two of his new songs. So, in one day, we recorded two Elvis Costello songs and two different versions of ‘Carpetbaggers.’ And those two songs of his ended up on his newest record, Momofuku. I was very nervous, and it took me an hour to figure out what I was going to wear on that day. And I ended up wearing purple on that day, which I don’t wear very much, and he ended up wearing purple, as well,” she giggles. “But I ended up not saying very much on that day. You don’t want to look like an asshole in front of Elvis Costello.”

Acid Tongue’s moods and textures change from song to song, from the smoldering blue-eyed soul of “Pretty Bird” to the multi-part blues boogie “The Next Messiah” and the straight-up country-rock of “Carpetbaggers.” The guitar tones are grittier, the arrangements are punchier and more varied, and Lewis’ singing is more visceral than in the reserved tones of Rabbit Fur Coat. It’s an album that feels like it was pieced together on the fly, a rollicking tribute to those soul bands who often played live in the studio, recording vocals in one take with mistakes left in for character. Having performed four of the songs while touring her first solo album, she invited many of those band members into the studio with her, lending those songs a loose and lived-in feel. From start to finish, Acid Tongue is an album cut from the cloth of the great ’70s singer/ songwriter song cycles, an album that never repeats itself despite retaining an insular and intimate feel. It’s nothing short of the confirmation of Lewis’ arrival among the great musical storytellers of her generation.

“We spent a great deal of time mapping out the record so that we could record it in a short amount of time,” Lewis explains. “We created different band configurations within that map. But, inevitably, things change when you actually perform them. When you’re collaborating with people, they bring things that you didn’t necessarily expect. I just let the songs dictate where the record would end up, and I let the vibe of the session run the ship. I wasn’t necessarily steering the ship.” She adds: “I was a passenger of the good feelings in the studio.”

If Lewis was just along for the ride during the arranging of the songs, she undoubtedly had a much heavier hand in the writing, and never before has she created character sketches that are so imaginative. There are the aching death metaphors of “Black Sand,” where the narrator collapses on the beach and allows herself to be washed out to sea. There’s also the aforementioned “The Next Messiah,” a track whose protagonist is a master shit-talker—a racecar-driving, cancer-surviving farmer, who thinks he just might be God incarnate. Then there’s the garage gospel of “Jack Killed Mom,” a strangely incestuous tale where a lascivious mother drives her son to homicide through her advances. But as much as Lewis commands the album’s center stage, sounding like she’s in total control of every second set to tape, she admits that she’s still haunted by the same nagging fears that plagued her when she was planning her first steps outside of the Rilo Kiley fold.

“I tend to always doubt what I do,” she admits. “I’m never entirely confident. I have this process where I’m happiest when I’ve first written something and when it’s first recorded. After that, the song soon falls out of favor. But this record, because I was surrounded by my friends and because I had played some of the songs on the road with the band, I felt a little more confident. Making this record, I felt as good as I have felt, but I was still filled with doubt once completing it.”

Though you’d never guess it, Lewis says that those insecurities are generally confined to the creative process, and the role of confident singer/songwriter comes more naturally when she’s performing. As the stage can often provide escapism like no other outlet, Lewis has grown comfortable disappearing into the character she becomes on stage every night. The girl who literally grew up on stage often doesn’t feel at home away from it. “I guess maybe the only time that I do feel confident is when I play music,” she says shyly. “‘Confident’ isn’t really the word. I guess I just feel the most like myself. I have a very difficult time with in-between song banter on stage. I just don’t know what to say, and I get so nervous just addressing the crowd.” Her voice then grows more animated: “But when it comes time to play the song, I know exactly what I have to do.”

Pictures of Success

“A lot of people say, ‘Don’t you miss out on your childhood?’ But I don’t. This is my childhood, and I’m learning a lot, and I’m enjoying it very much. I don’t think there are any downsides.” – Jenny Lewis, Teen Set, 1991

The words “former child star” are so often followed by words like “rehab” and “driving with a suspended license” that we scarcely notice when one of those stars ends up with something other than a mugshot and a stillborn career. Having spent their youth working long hours and memorizing lines while their parents scream at casting agents off set, many child stars are too jaded or too damaged before adulthood to want to make art. Though it’s not much of a secret in indie-rock circles that Jenny Lewis once had a second life as an almost famous child actress—she chewed up scenery as Shelly Long’s daughter in Troop Beverly Hills and shared an awkward kiss with Fred Savage in The Wizard—she has somehow managed to become the rarest of all preadolescent performers—one who has survived to reinvent herself as a legitimate artist.

“It wasn’t really my dream,” Lewis replies when asked about the abdication of her previous path. “I didn’t choose to do it. I was very professional, and I enjoyed working and being busy, but it wasn’t something that I fantasized about. Certainly, there was a lot of joy, but I guess it was heavy at times. Nothing extraordinarily negative that other kids don’t go through, but I felt a weight and a burden because I was financially responsible for my family. For a very long time I felt the weight of that on me,” she says without malice. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” she quickly asserts. “I wouldn’t put my own children in show business, but I think it definitely shaped me and has given me a unique perspective.”

How could it not? After all, how many kids are snatched up by a talent agent in a restaurant simply because their charisma is so irresistible? How many are supporting their families before they’ve lost their baby teeth? How many have to go through the process of making new friends at 12 different schools? How many have swapped stories with Lucille Ball? If Lewis writes songs that come from an outsider perspective, consider the fact that she has never lived a normal life.

“The schedule is hard on anybody—adult or child,” says Leslie Lewis, Jenny’s older sister and backing singer on two Acid Tongue tracks. “They work such long hours and they’re traveling so much that it takes them out of any normal schedule or childhood. It’s stressful, but at the same time she was given so many great opportunities. She was able to sing on camera and meet people and go places. A lot of her maturity came out of her doing so much at such an early age. It wound up being a good balance in the end. But, sure, I think anyone who is 5 or 6 years old and is working 18-hour days is bound to find it stressful.”

All those hours spent on set and off camera were put to good use, as Lewis became an astute observer, someone who gets paid to study, memorize, and watch how things unfold. Since she was a bit of an oddball at school, those skills were necessary for her to keep her sanity and challenge that of her peers. True crime stories and tales from the seedy side of life were her favorites, and her classmates simply didn’t understand what this precocious girl with the flaming red hair was going on about. Kids picked on her, and parents kept their children away from her because she told such bizarre stories. It was hard to make friends. It was hard to outrun her reputation.

“I had never seen any of her work, and I think that’s one of the reasons that we get along,” says Lewis’ boyfriend Johnathan Rice, a singer/songwriter who contributed vocals to Acid Tongue and toured with Lewis’ band for Rabbit Fur Coat. “I always knew of Jenny as a musician and songwriter. Then she told me all about that early stuff. One of the things that is remarkable about Jenny is that, more than anyone I know, she has the most dense life. There are just so many layers that make her who she is, just because of the way she grew up. What makes her so unique as a songwriter is her perspective on life and the way things are. What comes through to me in the writing is that it is shaped by a very long lifetime. You and I, we weren’t working when we were kids. We were just being kids. So her perspective is so unique. I can’t really think of anyone else who is doing it today that has that kind of perspective. I really think that sets her apart in so many ways. When you go see Jenny play—whether with her own band, or Rilo Kiley, or The Postal Service—she has it all. She can sing the shit out of a song, and she writes the shit out of a song, and she can perform the shit out of a song. There’s such a lack of emphasis on performance nowadays—the art of captivation. She has that for sure.”

As Lewis has spent most of her life cultivating the art of captivation, that ability to draw attention and hold it, she probably knows as much about it as anyone. But while she has applied her gift to great effect during her music career, Lewis appears to be in no hurry to return to her childhood profession.

“I knew that that wasn’t for me,” she says firmly. “That had become quite uncomfortable as I reached puberty and there’s so much emphasis placed on the way you look, and when you’re coming into your own and into your body, it can be pretty uncomfortable. I think some of those experiences made me turn inward. That’s kind of what fueled the things that I was writing about.”

A Better Son/Daughter

“I like all sports—baseball, soccer, swimming. And I also like spending time with my friends. That’s what I’m usually doing on the weekends.” – Jenny Lewis, Teen Set, 1991

Conspicuously absent from the above quote is any mention of Lewis’ interest in music. At that time, she was still finding her footing as a songwriter, just picking up a guitar for the first time and realizing that the strange stories that she carried around in her head made for strange subject matter. Of all the roles Lewis had played, she wasn’t ready for this one.

“I didn’t know that I wanted to be a songwriter, I just wrote songs,” Lewis says. “I listened to a lot of hip-hop growing up, and when I was 12 years old, I started writing verses and weird poems. I started playing guitar when I was 15 or 16, and I started playing piano when I was 8 or 9, so through all of those outlets, I always wrote little bits of songs. And I was exposed to a lot of different kinds of people. You meet some pretty eccentric people in Hollywood. And I think my own home life was very interesting. It was an interesting mix of going to work as a kid and then hanging out at home with my mom and her friends, and they always had these unique, shocking stories to tell. So those became a part of my songwriting from a very young age. I wrote a song when I was 10 years old about prison life. I have no idea where the hell I got that from, but those were the kinds of tales that fascinated me. I wasn’t a My Little Pony kind of girl. I was more into the ’80s equivalent of The Forensic Files. I still love murder TV. I guess when I met Blake [Sennett] I realized that there was one other person in the world that wanted to hear those things that I had written.”

Of course, meeting Sennett was a turning point in Lewis’ life and career. The two former child actors embarked on a romantic relationship and then founded Rilo Kiley in 1998, resulting in a collaboration that launched them from unknown indie-pop band to an increasingly ambitious major label act (whose line-up is rounded out by Pierre de Reeder and Jason Boesel). But while it took Sennett to give Lewis the confidence to decide that she was ready to audition for a new, non-acting role, she actually came from a rather impressive musical pedigree herself, as her parents and sister Leslie had a Las Vegas lounge act at the time of her birth.

“My parents got divorced when I was very young, so I didn’t really know my dad all that well growing up,” Lewis explains. “I would see him every couple of years, and it was always for a brief amount of time. I was always in awe of my father, but we never got a chance to talk about what had influenced him. I think genetics are a pretty strong thing, and I think inherently I am my father and we like the same things. He comes from this old guard of post-vaudeville generation, and he has spent his entire life on the road. I think I get a lot of that old showbiz sensibility from my father. The [lounge act] broke up when I was about two, and the marriage ended when I was about three. I don’t remember actually seeing them play. My older sister, she was actually part of that act for a while. I think she sang ‘How Much Is That Doggie in the Window?’ And my entire wardrobe, as far as my stage costumes go, [is] basically ripped from my parents’ lounge act.”

As anyone who has a passing familiarity with Rilo Kiley’s music knows, Lewis’ parents’ divorce has hung heavy over her songwriting for years, turning up in references stretching across her body of work. But just as Rabbit Fur Coat allowed Lewis to both pay tribute to and fictionalize her mother, Acid Tongue allows her to bring her father, harmonica virtuoso Eddie Gordon, into the canon. This time, however, her chosen subject was sitting right beside her in the studio.

“It was really strange and wonderful, because we’ve never played music together,” Lewis says of her father playing on “Jack Killed Mom.” “I was so impressed with his musicianship and skill. It’s an incredible thing that he does. He can play classical music on the harmonica. People being able to play the harmonica in that way is sort of a lost art. And we had him play really simple stuff. I was kind of embarrassed that he didn’t get a chance to really shred.”

But while her father made an appearance on the album, little did he know that the album’s centerpiece, the 9-minute, three-part epic “The Next Messiah,” was inspired by him. It turns out the shit-talker of “The Next Messiah” is actually Lewis’ father.

“That’s my favorite song on the record,” she explains. “It was sort of a subconscious thing. I didn’t sit down and set out to write a song about him. It just sort of came out in this phrase ‘The Next Messiah,’ which he’s not,” she laughs. “He doesn’t know [the song is about him]. He hasn’t heard it yet. Considering that I gave it to my mom on my last record, he’s due his. But I got so tired of singing about my mother for Rabbit Fur Coat that I had to kill her off on this record with ‘Jack Killed Mom.’ Poor mom.”

It Just Is

Having now conquered every stage she has stood upon, Jenny Lewis is quickly approaching a moment where her fame as a solo artist is about to outstrip the fame of her band. Since she has been assuming an increasingly larger part of the Rilo Kiley songwriting duties, writing or co-writing all but one song on their latest release, 2007’s Under the Blacklight, you have to wonder just what purpose her old band serves at this point.

“I don’t want to have to write different kinds of songs if I don’t want to; I want to be able to write whatever feels natural at the time,” she says, sounding unwilling to commit either way. “I go back and forth where whatever I’m doing is a reaction to the previous thing, so who knows where I’ll be in a year? I have to say that I truly love both outlets. I love collaborating with people, and I love Rilo Kiley and collaborating with Blake and the band. It’s something we’ve always done, and Rilo Kiley has always been a very delicate ecosystem that is on the verge of total collapse since our very first record. When you’ve got two people who were romantically involved, and that doesn’t work out, that lends itself to a very unstable environment. From record to record, I never think we’re going to make another record.” she says, pausing. “I’ve shifted my focus. I’m just thinking about these songs right now.”

That said, how long can Lewis reasonably expect to commit herself fully to both careers? How does a songwriter of such depth and vision find enough material to keep herself and her bandmates fed with new ideas? How long can she play two roles without getting burned out on both? Johnathan Rice has faith that her creative well is in no danger of running dry.

“You look at all the great ones—the Dylans and Neil Youngs—there’s that period of white-hot consistent output,” he explains. “Over two or three years, and there are three or four fantastic records. I think Jenny is doing her own version of that. She’s been releasing a record a year for the past five or six years, and that’s a pace that most bands don’t keep up with nowadays with the way the industry is and cycles go, but she has always worked outside of that. She just works as quickly as she wants to, and as soon as she has all of the outlets, she’s able to use the industry in her favor. If she gets tired, she’ll take a long walk or get a drink of water.”

Since Jenny Lewis has never known a life where she hasn’t been working on her craft every day, it makes sense. Having witnessed her charisma and inexhaustible work ethic since her sister was born, Leslie Lewis is similarly certain that her little sister is in no danger of overextending herself. “That’s the one thing coming from our background, we’re always comfortable juggling tons of things,” she explains. “That’s just really natural for Jenny. She’s tireless, as you can tell from all the other side projects she sings on. People always gravitated toward her no matter what. She has this really powerful silent persona. I think she’s always had it. It’s hard to describe. She wasn’t an annoying kid saying, ‘Look at me! Look at me!’ People naturally wanted to listen to what she had to say. It wasn’t just the red hair. I think Jenny easily could have a clothing line, a record company, and a multifaceted career. Wherever her heart guides her, she’ll be very successful. She’ll do a lot of things that will surprise people.”

Whatever the case, despite all of the accolades and honors, there’s still a little of that poised and professional 15-year-old girl in Jenny Lewis, the performer who only wants your approval. And while she’s still more at home on the stage than she is in her house, there’s one area of her performance she’d still like to perfect.

“I’d like to learn to loosen up a little bit, and I’d really love to learn how to speak to the crowd,” she says with a sigh. “God, I’m so terrified. I just don’t know what to say,” she shudders, the consummately prepared actress left without her line. But awkward stage banter aside, Jenny Lewis never struggles to find something to say once the music begins. Her greatest role will always be that of a songwriter. “When I’m getting ready to record, I’m haunted by the tunes,” she says. “They follow me around. I’m constantly thinking about the words, and when I’m sleeping I’m hearing the songs, and when I’m driving around, I’m thinking about them.” Having spent her life chasing the ultimate role, she has ended up with one that pursues her. “It’s good for someone that doesn’t have a day job.”

#publication: under the radar #album: acid tongue #year: 2008 #mention: child acting #mention: acid #song: acid tongue #person: elvis costello #song: black sand #mention: recording process #person: sister #person: johnathan rice #mention: childhood #person: blake sennett #mention: parent's band #song: jack killed mom #song: the next messiah #mention: father

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elasianstar · 6 years

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The world on a turtle’s back Chapter 1

“Ok Mikey, now you have to ride Agro up to the Colossus's flank as its wing flaps drag in the sand, then you have to jump for it and climb up to the top.”

“Almost, almost….dangit i missed.”

“That's ok, just get agro and chase him down again before he gets away!”

“GO AGRO!”

“He's taking off hurry Mikey!”

“BOOYAKASHA! GOT IT!”

“Are you two still playing that old game? It's the fourth day in a row.”

Leo was standing behind us one hand on each back cushion of the couch as his icy eyes scanned the screen where Mikey was taking down the flying snake falanx. The bright sword piercing the rune on the furry back of the beast before it fell, diving into the sand.

“Its not a bad game bro.”

“Yeah leo don't smash the classics, the original shadow of the colossus pushed the boundaries of what a platforming game was in its time. Back then game designers had to figure out how to code everything in a game from scratch, the industry was full of miraculous advancements in that time and it blew the minds of the gaming audiences around the world. A lot of what we know about data storage and computing came from the early game developers of the 80’s and 90’s.”

“She’s right, I use the same basic coding in the Tphones that was developed to create pokemon red. On a bigger scale of course, that program literally refused to crash.”

“I have an idea actually, go get Raph, we’ll play an awesome game i'm sure you'll all love.”

Mikey ran off to the weight room to get Raphael while i pulled an ancient gaming console out of my backpack.

“Is that an original Playstation?”

“Yeah Don its my little brother’s old console, how do you guys feel about a Crash Team Racing Tournament? My brothers and I play this all the time.”

“I could use a break from training”

“Yeah sure,i would love to play a game on such a nostalgic console, the tech back then was archaic but it was impressively durable.”

Laughing i plugged the old wires into the back of the tv.

‘You're telling me, Gabriel once shoved a PB&J in here when Charles had pissed him off. It still works like a charm.”

Donnie was turning the squat square console in his hands admiring the worn casing before pressing the button to lift the top disk hatch.

“You weren't lying, there’s a little dried jelly stuck under the scanner, its amazing this thing still works.”

Setting it down i popped the disk inside, pressing the power button only for it to freeze on the logo screen.

“It's done this from time to time ever since it went through a house fire, all it needs is a little…”

I slapped the machine and the disk continued playing like normal.

“Percussive maintenance.”

When Mikey and Raph got back i tossed each of them a controller as they sat on either side of me on the floor between the couch and the tv.

...

“I CALL CRASH!”

“This N-GIN fellow seems interesting, is that a guided missile.”

“Yep he’s good in the battle maps Don, I’ve got dibs on COCO.”

“I’ll play as this Polar bear guy.”

“I’ve got... Tiny Tiger?”

I started us on an easy map that each of their characters would have an even footing on and within a few races it had turned into an all out war, missiles and bombs flew across the track and the boys were jostling to block each other's views of the screen. Tension was definitely building.

“TAKE THAT DONNIE! MY POLAR BEAR KICKS YOUR CYBORG’S BUTT ON AN ICE MAP!”

“MIKEY HOP QUICK YOU HAVE A TNT ON YOUR HEAD!”

“FUCK I WAS WATCHING THE WRONG SCREEN!”

“AHHH SEAL!”

“WHAT THE FUCK LEO, I JUST GOT IN FIRST FUCKING PLACE AND YOU SHOOT ME WITH A DAMN ELECTRIC BALL!”

Raph jumped up onto his feet, getting in his older brother’s face with his lips pulled back in a snarl and his hands balled into fists.

“All’s fair in love and war Raphael, now stop making such a big deal out of a game.”

“I'M THE ONE MAKING A BIG DEAL OF THE GAME? YOU'VE STOLEN THE TROPHY FROM ME THREE DAMN TIMES NOW!”

The two stared each other down for several moments, Raph's anger seeming to visibly build itself off of Leo’s, before Raphael’s huge fist made contact with Leonardo’s face. The two rolled off behind the couch where they started beating the shit out of each other, curses flying while Mikey attempted to shield me and the console from the fury of the two behemoths. Within a few minutes the fight burned out to both boys staring at each other tensely, Leo rose to his feet and postured dominantly while Raph slunk back in defeat, leaving for the tunnel to the surface.

Pulling away from Mikey i gently waved off his concerned glance and moved toward Leonardo, He wasn't the only one who could pull the dominant shtick. Pulling my wings up to make myself look bigger though the blue turtle had nearly a foot on me i stalked up to Leo on my toes. Moving like a predator my eyes flashed away from their usual green-blue hue to burn bright gold. We stared at each other in much the same way the brothers had moments before, although neither of us showed any sign of breaking into violence neither of us was willing to submit to the other’s will either.

“A good leader takes all of their followers’ thoughts and emotions into count before any action. I’m not saying Raphael was right in throwing such a fit but you could have handled that much more tactfully. I suggest you learn to understand your team better. They are warriors yes but they're also your family, and they're all you’ve got. You might consider not driving them away.”

Splinter’s voice interrupted us from where he was reading his romance novels on the overstuffed recliner.

“The young lady is wise Leonardo. You may benefit from heeding her advice.”

Leo’s eyes fell in submission to his sensei as I turned on my heel to follow Raph.

I found him a few blocks away sitting on top of an old apartment complex, his eyes on the horizon as the sky lightened for the coming dawn. At the sound of my landing he pulled in on himself a little tighter. I had seen the two eldest fight several times in the last week but I had never followed either before. Seeing this side of Raphael was something I never even considered as I sat quietly on the rooftop near him. My very presence seemed to make him relax, as if he were responding to my emotions. The first pop of sunlight struck us as the bright sphere edged over the horizon, golden rays sparking in his eyes and making them dance like embers floating over a campfire.

“What are ya starin at.”

I dropped my gaze to my hands, gently twisting the agate ring around my finger.

“nothing, sorry.”

After a while he stood up, holding out a hand to help me to my feet.

“Thanks, for sitting with me. I don't know why but it helped.”

“you're welcome.”

we were both a bit fidgety, but i’d had some time to think and had come up with a theory i had to test.

“Hey Raph, have you ever heard of empaths?”

“why.”

“It's just you seem to be very in tune with others emotions though you may not realize it.There was little reason for you to get so worked up down there but your energy was buzzing with all sorts of competition and spite and anger. You were mirroring and amplifying your brothers’ emotions to the point that you just lost control of it all. I think it may be the root of your more extreme anger issues, you absorb others’ turbulent emotions and compound them on your own without realizing until you get explosive….”

the look he gave me set my nerves off again and i hid behind my hair, “Sorry was that too creepy and analytical?”

He nodded a bit looking at me skeptically, indecisive on whether he believed what I was saying or if he thought it was unsettling how easily I could read him.

“here,”

I placed my hand over his and thought of my favorite memory with my brothers.

“What do you feel?”

His eyes fell on our hands, a small hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

“How are you doing that?”

“I'm not doing anything more than reliving a pleasant memory. I can help you with this though. Empathy is a common skill even amongst humans, you simply have to learn to realize which emotions don't originate from you and develop ways to deal with them without letting them cloud your own mind.”

“And that will keep me from being such a dumbass?”

I smiled wickedly, slapping him gently on the arm with the back of my fingers.

“Sorry I can't cure dumbass, but I can help you reign this in. All you have to do is give it an effort, Deal?”

His large hand grabbed mine like he was afraid to break it.

“Deal.”

…

The next friday I texted Raph and asked him to meet me on the roof of my apartment just after their twilight patrol. I set out a large blanket and packed some snacks and drinks, i stretched my wings out in the warm light of the setting sun to wait.

About an hour after sundown i heard the low thud of Raphael’s landing on the roof behind me. Looking over my shoulder i quickly sat up, laying my wings comfortably behind me i motioned for him to sit across from me on the blanket.

“So how are we doin this?”

“Well first you're going to have to actually make eye contact.”

He looked up at me and I could tell he was worried, but I didn't bring it up. He would get more comfortable with practice.

“ Close your eyes, were going to start by simply getting you to differentiate between your own emotions and those transferred to you by another. Breath deep and tell me what you feel, I will block my own aura from transferring so you won't get any crossover from me.”

After a few moments of breathing he spoke.

“Well I'm still pissed at Leo for his usual high and mighty bullshit, and at Mikey for waking me up with a water balloon.”

“all right, anything else?”

“well the ache in my muscles from a few quick laps around the city, it's relaxing. And sitting here, that's…. Why do I have to do this?”

“because if you can't decipher your own emotions how will you tell the difference between them and another's?”

I began projecting a heavy sadness, watching as his shoulders slumped and his breath shuddered.

“stop,... please.”

I pulled back behind my wards, leaving a slight soothing behind to apologize.

“if you can't tell an enemy from a friend how could you ever guard yourself in battle? It is the same for your psyche. Now seeing as your anger is the hardest for you to control I want you to focus on a memory that makes you angry without causing a meltdown, a mild irritation.”

When I noticed his face twitching into anger I pushed a little, adding my own similar memories and emotions as I watched his face screw in on itself as he bordered on rage. His fists balled and his thick arms bulged as he fought to restrain himself.

“focus Raphael, don't let yourself get lost in the fog.”

His eyes snapped open, burning into my own before cooling as I withdrew the emotion.

“What did you feel? Explain your way through what you just experienced.”

“It started with me remembering a time when Mikey bent one of my Sai trying to use it to poke a hole in the wall to run a can phone between his and Leo’s rooms. Then it just kept getting worse, like fire ants biting but inside my mind, it kept pushing me, stinging and getting more intense for no reason…”

“anything specific about that sensation you think you could recognize if you tried again?”

“maybe?”

After about ten tries and an hour's work he was starting to notice the same “fire ants” sensation within a few seconds of intrusive emotion.

We tried a few times with some other emotions but with a change in emotion came a change in sensation so it was back at square one. We did manage to lock down the sensations for the big three emotions before I had him emotionally exhausted.

Anger= burning stinging “fire ants”

Sadness= heavy clammy “mud"

Happiness= soft and warm “fur”

The whole time I watched his aura, monitoring the color change from red to blue to yellow. With the addition of intrusive emotion each one changed, becoming streaked with a slightly different shade of the target color.

Now he lay flat on his plastron, eyes still closed as I helped him clear his mind of all of the tumultuous emotions of our session. I had put on some gentle music that used natural sounds and radiated calm peaceful energy that he soaked up like a man lost in the desert guzzles water.

“I know you're doing that.”

I spoke around a mouth full of the cookies we were munching on.

“What?”

He took a swig from his water bottle.

“Making me feel all calm and peaceful on purpose. It feels like a warm sunlamp.”

“you made some good progress today, but you frazzled yourself. sue me for wanting to help.”

He did that laugh/smirk thing before burying his face in his crossed arms, a muffled thanks nearly silenced.

“It won't be that easy with others, I was pumping some pretty deliberate emotions your way using my abilities as a soul reader. Unintentional exchanges will be harder to notice before they've influenced your core emotional state. We’ll keep working with weaker and weaker signals and more varied emotions until you're completely familiar with each new sensation.”

He just hummed, and soon snores started to rumble through him as he fell asleep. He must have been more exhausted than I thought.

Careful to not wake him I drug the blanket he was laid upon under one of the rooftop awnings, throwing the other blanket over his splayed out body. I sent a quick text to the brothers explaining that Raph had been doing some training at my place and i had offered for him to crash here over the daylight hours. Nestling myself amongst my own wings I took up residence at the mouth of the awning and fell asleep to the rising sun.

RAPH POV

I woke up with a major kink in my neck, the late may heat feeling nice on my skin with the cool breeze.

Peeking my eyes open I noticed that I was under some sort of plastic dome thing that was open on one end like an igloo or something. Near the door a small black lump lay guarding the entrance, stray feathers and wisps of dark hair being blown by the breeze. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of her literally making me a blanket nest and guarding me while I slept.

“Morning Raph.”

She spoke without even a change in her breath to tell me she had woke up. It startled me, how long had I been watching her?

“hm. Mornin.”

Her wings rose first, fluttering a few times to fix the messy feathers before she sat up. She stretched her spine and rolled her shoulders, light cracks and pops betraying her poor sleeping position before looking at me with those big eyes. They were emerald green ringed with blue and soft in the scattered light.

“you think you could sneak downstairs to my apartment or do you wanna just sit tight up here while I make breakfast.”

My stomach growled at the mention of food.

“as long as there aren't any helicopters around I think I'll manage.”

She poked her head out the front of the shelter and looked around before waving me on to follow her. Staying low we slid through the roof access door and down the flight of stairs to her apartment door.

The place was studio style with most of the space being one big room, a kitchenette sat off to the right and the living space was to the left. Above the bathroom was a small loft blocked from view by a tapestry of the night sky. The hardwood floor was scattered with black shed feathers and the windowsill was filled with long planters each holding several large plants. All of the shelves were covered in rocks and sculptures and little things, and there was a freaky looking stuffed raven sitting above her computer that creeped me out. the thing was watching me i swear.

She motioned for me to take a spot on the worn love seat facing the kitchen while she got to work cooking.

“Is sausage and eggs Ok?”

She was already pulling a large black iron skillet out of the cabinet and placing it loudly on the stove.

“You don't have to…”

She whirled around on me holding the spatula threateningly.

“Not another word, how many times have you guys had me over for dinner at the lair in the last two weeks, between feeding me after a medical visit or me just crashing dinner while hanging out I'm eating your food most nights. Now is sausage and eggs alright?”

her spunk always surprised me, so much spark in such a little bird.

“Throw in toast with some of that kiwi jelly you brought splinter last Tuesday and I'll shut up.”

She smiled, taking a jar out of the fridge with a tub of butter before digging out her toaster, The smell of cooking food making my mouth water.

Between flips she fumbled with her phone and the light guitar intro of Bon Jovi’s Dead or Alive started playing as she moved around the space.

“I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride. I'm wanted, Waannteeed, dead or alive…”

She tossed her head a bit while the guitar solo echoed in the small space

“And I walk These streets, worn out six string on my back. I play for keeps, because I might not make it back. I've been everywhere, still standin tall, I've seen a billion faces, and I've rocked them all!”

She knew every word, singing along with the music as she took something out of the skillet.

“And I'm a cowboy, I've got the night on my side, and I'm wanted, Dead or alive. And I ride, dead or alive!”

“So you're a classic rock fan.”

She reacted like she hadn't realized I had actually been watching as Panama from van Halen blared. She turned it down a bit as she cracked eggs into the skillet.

“Oh uh yeah, my youngest brother is really into it and it kinda re-lit my flame for the genera. Not as good as seeing it performed live…”

“you've seen Bon Jovi live?”

She ducked and waved it off.

“Yeah, well another me did. Should have seen her back then. I think my brother Felix still has my favorite leather biker jacket somewhere, he borrowed it last Halloween and hasn't returned it. I was a total rock chick back in the 70’s.”

The image of her in a heavy leather jacket while she sat on a wide and low red Harley flashed through my thoughts.

“Anyway food’s ready, ummm…”

She was looking between the dining table and the couch.

“You might be a bit too heavy for the dining chairs that came with this place. I'll let you eat on the couch this once but if this is going to become a regular thing I'll see about getting something sturdier for you.”

She handed me a plate loaded with food and placed a couple of glasses of milk on the coffee table before going back for her own. There were strange dark brown disks like hamburger patties on the plate, I picked one up and sniffed it, unsure of what it could be.

“have you never had country sausage before?”

My expression must have given me away, this thing was a sausage? What happened to the long linked ones Mikey would sometimes have April get from the Italian market?

“Try it, it's the same thing just without the casing, I personally like to dip them in my egg yolk.”

She tore the disk in half, dipping it in the runny egg before popping it in her mouth with a satisfied hum and an expectant look.

ELASIA POV

He seemed unsure of the new food but with a bit of coaxing he tried it, tossing the piece of sausage in his mouth like it was a shot that needed to be downed quickly before the taste hit his tongue. When it did however his eyes went wide for a second and settled as he slowly chewed, savoring the smoky flavor.

“farm raised pork from back home, there isn't much better.”

Shoveling another whole patty in his mouth he mumbled something that sounded like, “we need to make you cook at the lair more often.”

I couldn't help but feel proud at that, puffing up a bit before speaking.

“I figured you'd want me all to yourself!”

The way his expression changed and how he choked on his food made me realize how that sounded.

“my...my cooking that is.”

RAPH POV

She got really quiet after that, staring down at her plate while she picked at her food.

I reached across the table and stole one of her sausages, her face flushed with shock as I popped it in my mouth.

“maybe I should keep quiet, wouldn't want Mikey to HOG all of this deliciousness.”

The snorting laugh she made when she realized my pun had me reaching over to teasingly attempt another sausage theft but she smacked my hand away. We both smiled as she nibbled on a piece of toast, awkwardness forgotten.

...

“Uggggghhh, no more woman, are you trying to make me explode?”

“It's not my fault you loved my cooking so much that you decided to steal half of my meal as well as the double helping I had made for you.”

She moved to take my plate and cup but I blocked her hand before she could.

“No you cooked let me help.”

Rolling up off the couch I grabbed my dishes and followed her to the sink.

“I'll wash and you can dry.”

She tossed me a ratty grey towel and started filling the sink with water and soap.

CRASH!!

“Shit I'm sorry, let me...fuck.”

I had dropped a wet plate on the floor and in my rush I stepped on a relatively large shard, embedding it in my foot.

ELASIA'S POV

Moving quickly I took the brunt of Raph’s weight on my shoulders as I helped him hop over to the couch and sit down. Kneeling in front of him I gently took his large 2 toed foot in my hands inspecting the damage before grabbing the biggest piece of the shard.

Raph had been quiet through the pain so far but hissed and jerked away as I tried to pull out the glass. I looked up at him with a calming gaze, immediately feeling him settle.

“this is going to hurt like a sonofabitch but I have to get all of the glass out before I can seal to wound.”

His gold-green eyes looked back into mine, searching for something before he nodded.

“I trust ya.”

When I pulled out the shard his heavy hand came down to grip my shoulder. Grabbing a pair of tweezers and a large sewing needle I set to work removing the smaller slivers, extending my wing up to comfortingly brush against his side and the arm that was gripping me. After a few minutes I had gotten out all of the shards and allowed my magic to work on the wound, sealing it shut and leaving a small scar in the arch of his foot.

I don't know why but I pressed a small kiss to the scar before turning away to clean up the glass and finish the dishes, leaving Raphael to watch dumbfounded from the couch.

…

A little while later the sun set and I heard a tapping on the glass door to the balcony. Pulling back the curtains I was met by the three figures of Leo, Donnie, and Mikey.

“Come on in guys, Raph is just watching fast N loud in the main room.”

Mikey and Donnie rushed past while Leo stayed back with me.

“I’m afraid we can't stay long, we have to get on patrol before the purple dragons start getting too active.”

“I understand.”

He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Actually I have a couple things I need to say first. I'm sorry about the other night, you're right, I need to start trying to understand the unique ways my brothers think. It would not only help my role as a leader but it would connect us together better as a family. Especially Raph. And uh, speaking of Raph would you mind explaining this special training you mentioned last night?”

I had promised Raph that we would keep the details of our sessions private.

“It was nothing much, simply honing some innate abilities I believe he may possess. It's strictly confidential at this moment.”

“Yes, well then we really ought to be moving. Have a pleasant night Ms.Elasia. Mikey, Don, Raph let's move.”

Mikey gave me a quick hug and invited me down Sunday for game night and Donnie patted my hair claiming he left some files on my laptop that he’d like for me to look over before the two jumped off the balcony after Leo.

“Hey, um today was...nice.”

Raph lingered at the railing of the balcony, one hand gripping it ready to fling himself over.

“Yeah it was, next friday? maybe?”

He smiled a little.

“Yeah sure, and ill...I'll practice a bit this week.”

Two beats of silence passed between us before I hopped up and wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug, my wings snaking around his shell. He froze for a second before I felt his strong arms around my waist and his chin sat firmly against my hair.

When I let go he was gone.

#TMNT #teenage mutant ninja turtles #the world on a turtle's back #Elasia OC #raphael tmnt

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