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taehyung-rambles · 3 years

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My Top 3 BTS Outfits in Each Era (Up to Permission to Dance)

Disclaimer: These pictures are hella grainy because I used the wrong edit and only realized after I’d done like 10 eras. Plus it’s hella hard to catch a shot of the boys during the MV when they’re not moving.

Okay, so I don’t know why I wanted to do this. That’s a lie; there’s a very specific outfit that made me want to do this, so look out for that one if you want to know why I’ve decided to dedicate myself to this terribly long and arduous post.

This post is what it sounds like. One thing I’m gonna say before we get going is that I skipped the Make It Right era because the boys didn’t actually film anything for it (it was just a stage mix); ergo, I’d be ranking the outfits they had for the Love Yourself Tour, not the outfits that were selected for them for that particular song. So, I figured it’d be pointless to be like, “Oh, you see this outfit that Jimin wears for these four songs on tour that he happens to wear in the Make It Right stage mix? I like it.”

Also:

This isn’t based on my bias or the members themselves at all; it’s literally which outfits I liked the best.

That means that there are eras where there’s two of one member plus one other member in my top three since the boys usually have at least two outfits. Actually, there’s one era that only has three outfits from one member in it because that member was styled really well for that era.

I will be, like, talking about the outfits through the members’ names, though, because... how else am I supposed to do it? “Yes, so IDOL outfit #9 was really cool”? Not gonna work.

Some of the representations of the members’ outfits aren’t actually that good because I literally could not take a full-body screenshot of them since they were always moving.

As such, I’d advise you to actually go to the MV for outfits you wanted to see in full.

I didn’t use any promotional shots, behind the scenes MV shootings, or outfits from secondary versions of the MVs (with one exception I’ll talk about later)--such as the Manifesto Film for ON or the Japanese version MVs--because I wanted to pull them all from the main MVs. Plus, there was always the chance that the outfit I liked wasn’t shown in the behind the scenes shooting or didn’t have a promotional shot taken of it, and I wanted all the pictures to be taken from the same place.

So, you should prepare for some funny faces from the boys because some of these screenshots are questionable for the sake of capturing the outfit.

I’ll probably talk about their hair if I feel like I need to because it’s so good that’s it’s almost like a part of the outfit; that’s gonna be rare, though.

Disclaimer #2: I do not have any real knowledge about fashion, so I’m just here to say, “Wow. Don’t they look so good?”

Disclaimer #3: I sincerely apologize to the boys for all the ridiculous faces that are to follow.

No More Dream

Boy oh boy, was this era hard to decide on. BTS’s early MVs had a certain mood to them, you know? And that meant there outfits weren’t always amazing. However, I did my best to understand the concept of putting the boys in over-the-top outfits to sell the genre of music and image brand they were going for; that being said, I did end up picking the most basic outfits from the No More Dream era.

Taehyung: I mean, it’s a basic outfit, you know? I’m a sucker for all-black outfits--though the all-black wardrobe in the No More Dream MV was not exactly my flavor of fashion--and Taehyung in a leather jacket is always gonna be awesome.

Jin: Jin’s arms said wassup, you know? That’s not really why I picked this outfit for my top three, though; it was mostly because I liked the shirt they put Jin in, and the accent with the bandana on his pants was nice.

Jungkook: So, the print on Jungkook’s pants was used for all members in one way or another--like, for instance, Taehyung had a T-shirt with it--but I like the print being on the pants Jungkook has on. Also, the style of his pants is a style I love; I have no idea what style they’re in, but the loose fabric at the top is nice. Also, his high-tops (or boots?) are a nice contrast to the rest of black in his outfit.

We Are Bulletproof Pt.2

Talk about another era of questionable fashion. It’s not really the style of clothes they were wearing or which pieces they’re wearing because I know BigHit did the best it could with the money it had at the time; I mostly don’t like the early eras’ stylings because there was a lot going on. Like, you got the leggings under the shorts, knee socks, shirts tied around waists, etc. They’re doing the most, and I don’t really vibe with it. Not that layering is bad because BTS has outfits that are layered later, obviously, and some of those are really nice. I think it’s just awkward to look at when it’s a bunch of sportswear. Anyway, that’s not what this is about.

Jimin: I know Jimin’s got eels or fish on his shorts. I didn’t realize until I look at Taehyung’s T-shirt and realized that he was also wearing the same print. However, Jimin’s shorts being gold looks nice between his black socks and shirt. I can’t explain why. Because pants are usually the darker color in outfits, so the fact that it’s inverted is interesting? Maybe I like the eels after all? Who can say?

Jungkook #2: I’ve no idea what’s going on with Jungkook’s outfit in the middle photo, but the print on his shorts in nice. I mean, I like that he’s got red accents throughout the entire outfit because it’s less gaudy than the gold accents on the boys’ other set of outfits for this MV. Other than that, I just like it better than the rest of the outfits (besides my number one, obviously).

Jungkook #1: No, there is not a full-body shot of this outfit in the MV, and yes, I’m still listing it as my number one. Is this partially because I didn’t like any of the other outfits? Maybe. But, I also really like the print on Jungkook’s--what I’m going to tentatively call--shoulder-pad-jacket. Like, the sports uniforms were a little dumb, but I like that Jungkook’s was a bit more fancy, if you will, than just a jersey. Even if I can only see the top half of it.

N.O

Now we’re getting into some fashion, kids. I mean, the N.O concepts weren’t the best, but it’s better than fish-shorts, you know? Throughout doing this project, I realized that the boys have done the all-white thing a few times--like in Black Swan, Boy With Luv, and Film out, to name a few--and I really like it. Just like in N.O, it’s always a really nice contrast with, either the music, or the members’ images or both. The white clothes make everything seem softer, but then you put a song like N.O on top of it or an image like attractiveness-can-kill Kim Taehyung, and it offsets everything in a really interesting way.

Taehyung: I mean, honestly, I didn’t know what outfit to put in this spot, but I like Taehyung’s shirt, so here we are. The texture on it is nice, actually, because the boys were mostly wearing stuff on top of plain white hoodies or shirts, so Taehyung having a shirt with a bit of visual to it was good.

Jungkook: I don’t know; I like casual clothes, okay? It’s a baggie hoodie, sweatpants, and some chains, but I like the look a lot. Don’t @ me--not that this is a controversial opinion. Maybe I’m influenced by the choreography or something, but I liked this particular Jungkook outfit in N.O.

Yoongi: Can I say Yoongi looks a bit like a ‘90s rapper or is that inaccurate? Yoongi’s got the curly, red hair with a bandana in it, y’all. That shit’s wild. And he’s got a fluffy, white vest. Legit, his outfit says, “I’m cute,” but his expression and rap verse say, “Sit the fuck down,” you know what I mean? That’s the type of shit I’m here for.

Boy In Luv

This era was difficult to decide on, as you can imagine, because they were all in school uniforms with very tiny differences in between them. I think, because of that, this era was a little bit about how each member looked in their outfit for the MV because I didn’t have much to go on.

Jimin: You can’t see it in the picture I was able to get, but he’s got little metal pieces on the collar of his shirt, which is also a black collar, and both of those little details are cool. That’s literally it all I have to say.

J-Hope: Hobi was in all-black, y’all, so I wanted to include him. Would you like to know why his picture is so terrible? There were zero full-body shots of him during his rap verse. Why? So difficult it was to get a shot of Hobi looking fine as hell in this uniform.

Namjoon: I think one other member had a plaid shirt under their button down--Jin, I think--but the pattern of Namjoon’s plaid shirt was the one I liked the best. It’s a really nice pop to the black-and-white the other guys had.

Just one day

This MV was so difficult to find good shots for, let me tell you. Take a shot every time I say that from now on if you want to, you know, poison yourself. Anyway, the outfits for this era were pretty simple. The boys also had school uniform-esque outfits, but they were all the same, so I didn’t include them. At least, they were close enough to the same that I didn’t like any of them individually.

Jimin: When I tell you Jimin only has close-up shots in this MV--I digress. You can’t really tell with the picture I was able to get, but the patches on his pants looked really cool, to me. He also had a long, baggy shirt on on top of the tight pants, so the entire outfit ended up looking really nice.

Jungkook: I don’t really know how to explain this one. I just like the look of it. Jungkook looks like a ballet dancer, you know? I like the asymmetrical sections of his shirt, I like the leather pants, I like the neckline; it’s a good outfit, simple though it is.

Yoongi: This is a boyfriend look if I’ve ever seen one. I’m also a sucker for denim jackets, so that’s part of the reason I liked this outfit on Yoongi. Also, the layering of the jacket, hoodie, and shirt is a combo that can rarely ever go wrong. This is another neutral-toned MV in terms of the outfits, so I like the bit of blue from Yoongi’s jacket, as well.

Danger

This is the first BTS era in which everyone’s outfits killed, and I had a difficult time picking out which ones I liked the best. These outfits definitely fit the Dark & Wild concept well, and I think each member was styled amazingly for this MV.

Taehyung: There is a strong part of me that loves Taehyung in this ballcap. I also love the leather accents on his blazer and the fact that he’s got a white shirt on for that bit of contrast. I don’t know; the entire visual for Taehyung in this outfit was working.

Jimin: Isn’t Jimin’s shirt so cool? It’s, like, kind of a stiff material, so when he dances, it looks really cool. Plus, the button down and chain he has underneath it are such cool little accents. It almost looks like he’s wearing a turtleneck from a distance because the button down is buttoned all the way up, and I like that vibe.

Jungkook: I don’t know how to explain the emotional attachment I have to Jungkook’s outfit in the Danger MV. The plaid shirt around his waist, the denim jacket, the dark and ripped jeans; I mean, please. This is an iconic MV look, and you can quote me on that. Legit, this would be in the catalog of “Jungkook’s most iconic looks,” for me.

War of Hormone

Can I talk about how cool the concept was for the War of Hormone era? Like, the punk look was such a good choice. It made them look like British teenagers from the 80s, but I’m not mad at that. Also, the mussed hair? What a look these guys had during this era. I don’t think there’s a whole lot of BTS eras that kind of come with their own predetermined fashion themes like War of Hormone came with the punk one. You got Dynamite with the 70s theme and Dope with the costumes theme, but that’s kind of it. The rest of the time, the boys kind of just match while the outfits compliment the song, rather than the outfits embodying the song. So, War of Hormone is a special era because of that.

Jungkook: These stripped sweaters and skinny scarves were such a fad for me when I was in elementary school, but somehow Jungkook makes it seem actually cool. Plus, he’s got all those holes in his sweater that make it look all grungy, and it’s so fun that that’s how they decided to add a focal piece to his outfit.

Taehyung: I wasn’t initially thinking Taehyung would be on this list since the other members have louder outfits than just a leather jacket, but Taehyung’s outfit is so cool. It’s got the print on the back of the jacket plus the buttons on the front that really sell the punk vibe, but he’s also got pinstriped pants, y’all. What a combo.

Namjoon: I don’t like to say “daddy,” but this outfit on Namjoon is, you know? I mean, it’s just a really nice suit in the first place. You got your little pocket square, really nice lines, gorgeous pinstripes; plus, Namjoon’s got that white shirt under it instead of a button down. It all works really nicely, and the overall outfit stuck out to me right away when I was looking at this MV.

I Need U

It was so difficult trying to grab the outfits for I Need U and RUN because they’re basically short films, which meant there was no choreo I could pause during to get a full body shot or cuts of the boys singing their solos. However, I managed to grab these three, so let’s get it.

Yoongi: It’s simple, I know, but I like simple sometimes. I think it’s mostly the jeans that made me choose this Yoongi outfit in I Need U because the shirt was plain white, and the jeans being ripped an rolled was just enough diversity to make me love the outfit. Plus, Yoongi’s shirt is tucked in, so it’s a nice vibe.

Taehyung #2: The outfit in the middle photo is kind of a weird outfit, to me. I think it’s because the jack and the pants are the same material, but in any case, I like it a lot because it looks strange but simple at the same time. The outfits in I Need U were a little geeky, if I can say that, which is totally fine, but I just ended up liking Taehyung’s the best because of the fit of the outfit and the material.

Taehyung #1: It’s that jacket-hoodie-shirt combo again. It’s also all black; it’s also got a leather jacket. It’s the stuff I love, and it’s all on Taehyung, who I love. I mean, there’s also the factor of him wearing the hood up to mimic the dark tone of the MV and song, so all of that contributed to me liking this outfit a lot.

For You

I didn’t expect to like the outfits in the For You MV all that much since it’s a bit of a basic song, but I thought a lot of the pieces were really beautiful. Jungkook had a nice outfit during the choreo, Jin had a nice outfit for the scene when he was washing cars; I mean, all the members had several really nice looks for this MV.

Namjoon: I was trying to decide between this and Jin’s denim jacket outfit, but I really like the dark wash on Namjoon’s jacket and jeans. Also, the jeans being rolled to expose the boots is something I also really liked. This is an aside, but doesn’t Namjoon fucking wear this shit? He looks hella good.

Yoongi: I really like the stark white of Yoongi’s jacket and pants against the black of his shirt. Plus, the shirt has a really gorgeous pattern on it, which is a big reason why I ended up choosing this outfit for my top three.

Taehyung: That jacket is so pretty, isn’t it? It’s not just the floral pattern of it, but the stripes underneath the floral pattern are so lovely against the white in the rest of Taehyung’s outfit. It makes Taehyung look older, too, which has nothing to do with the outfit, but I figured I’d mention it.

Dope

Does anyone know why the concept for this MV was basically Halloween costumes? Was it because the song is about dudes who work hard for their dreams and they wanted the boys to be dressed like various kinds of employees? Anyway, it was a fun MV to look at.

J-Hope: I thought Hobi’s outfit was fitted very well, so I ended up choosing it mostly because of the cut and shape it had. However, the actual leather itself looked really cool, too, with the white and red accents.

Jimin: Like, all the boys wore the white-shirt-black-tie ensemble, but it was Jimin’s only look for the MV, and he wore it the best, so I had to put it down. This one is another case of it being kind of about the member, but sue me, okay? I stan this Jimin.

Jungkook: We all knew, didn’t we? I mean, the police officer’s uniform is iconic. The pants being tucked into the boots gives Jungkook such a nice silhouette, and the fit of the uniform did the same thing. Jungkook looked incredible in this era.

RUN

This era gave me so many issues; you don’t understand. You see how shitty these pictures are, right? None of the members were still during this entire MV except for that one shot of Jungkook sitting on the floor; I mean, I guess that’s indicative of the song being called “RUN,” but ya know. Honestly, I really liked a lot of the outfits during the RUN era because all of them had so much character. It was really difficult to choose only three, so let me know in the replies which outfits you liked from this era.

Jin: A lot of my decisions are based on jackets, but you’re gonna have to bear with me on that one because it’s gonna continue. The picture sucks, but go to the MV and look at Jin’s jacket because it’s got such a nice pattern. It stood out a lot to me because it was different from the other members, and Jin doesn’t usually wear jackets like this.

Taehyung: You’re also gonna have to go check this one out for yourself, but I though the brown jacket and red flannel together looked really nice, especially on top of the dark jeans Taehyung was wearing. I mean, the sunglasses are a vibe, too, but that wasn’t really on my mind when making this decision.

Yoongi: I love this Yoongi outfit in the RUN MV. It had just enough going on to make it look interesting but not busy. The red-and-black striped shirt under the ripped, acid wash jacket provides such a nice contrast. Plus, Yoongi’s got moe sleeves here, which is adorable.

EPILOGUE: Young Forever

This was sort of an awkward MV to do because it’s such a short song, but I got there in the end. The outfits weren’t terribly complex, so we won’t be here all that long, especially since all the members were wearing just about the same types of outfits in terms of color profile.

Yoongi: I like the pattern on Yoongi’s shirt a lot, and I like the little ribbons or whatever they are hanging from his sleeves. This isn’t a style I see on Yoongi that often, but regardless of who was wearing it, the outfit did it’s job because it looks awesome.

Taehyung: I really like the cut of Taehyung’s shirt. Like, the way it buttons looks really interesting, the lack of a collar looks cool, and he’s got a little ascot/scarf thing that has a nice pattern on it. Plus, the scarf was sitting underneath the neckline of the shirt, which was a cool detail.

Jungkook: So, Jungkook was the only member with color in his outfit? I know he’s the center of BTS, but it’s a bit weird? I’m not complaining, though, because the color of his shirt is gorgeous. The rosy-brown was such a nice pop of contrast against the grey background of the MV. It also tied in nicely with the warm tones at the end as the sun is setting.

FIRE

This was an era for outfits, y’all. They kind of a SoCal vibe going on in this MV, and all the members looked super cool. It was interesting to see their outfits shifting as the scenes changed, too. Like, when they were outside, they had outfits with more pops of interests, but when they were inside or when it was dark, they had slightly grungier outfits with more subdued patterns. Or, when they were just messing around and singing or shooting skits, they had goofier outfits on. Anyway, this MV is rad, and so are the outfits.

Taehyung #2: I just really love Taehyung’s jacket that he has on for the majority of this MV. On top of the black shirt and jeans, it became a nice focal piece. Taehyung’s jeans are ripped, too, and it provides some shape to Taehyung’s legs that’s super nice. I mean, all the members have knee rips, but in an all-black outfit, it looked awesome. Also, though you can’t see it in the picture, he has brown boots on, and it’s such a weird addition to a black-and-denim outfit, but somehow, it works really well.

Jungkook: It’s the cardigan for me, fam. It’s such a pretty piece; actually, that’s not all I love about Jungkook’s outfit in the middle picture because he has this band around his leg that stands out so much for some reason. I don’t even know what the band is or if it’s a part of the jeans or what, but it actually really does elevate the look.

Taehyung #1: This fit is it, y’all. First of all, the jacket is bomb; the color is stunning, and the fringe is so fun. The belt Taehyung’s wearing pops--at least to me--and the black jeans work really well with the jacket. And Taehyung’s boots plus the jeans? Please.

Save ME

This was the most difficult MV to get screenshots for by far. This, War of Hormone, and Film out are the only MVs where the boys only have one outfit, right? Boy In Luv might, as well; I can’t remember. There’s probably more, but anyway. I’ll keep it a buck: I’m not gonna have a lot to say about Yoongi and Namjoon, but we’re gonna try our best.

Yoongi: The ripped jeans are nice, as always, and I love Yoongi’s boots, but other than that, this is just about me liking the type of outfit this is. I mean, having a long-sleeve tee under a T-shirt can be kind of lame, but when it’s a nearly all-black outfit with pops of light coming from the undershirt, it can look good.

Namjoon: I picked Namjoon’s outfit because the jacket he was wearing was fitting pretty tightly, and I thought it made his silhouette look really sharp. The ballcap did the same thing since Namjoon’s hair wasn’t out in the wind. Also, he’s got converse high-tops on--I think--and that’s always a vibe.

Taehyung: Taehyung’s outfit is the only outfit I freakin’ love from Save ME. He’s got the moe sleeves, guys, and it makes Taehyung look so soft. Plus, the sweater that’s on top of his long-sleeve tee is cut really nicely so the sleeves are really big and make Taehyung’s silhouette look really cool when he’s dancing. Also, red-haired Taehyung is an icon.

Blood Sweat & Tears

So, I kind of both loved every single outfit in this MV and didn’t find any of them particularly stand out-ish. That’s probably because they were all awesome so none of them could be more awesome than another. Still, I came up with a list. Let me tell you, I was so mad that the suits the boys were wearing in the beginning were not shown that much in the MV because they were all gorgeous.

Jungkook #2: Which is why Jungkook’s face is covered because I could only get this shot of his suit since it’s basically invisible the rest of the time. How pretty is the print on it, though? The flowers are gorgeous on top of the black.

Yoongi: I really like light nude-colored fabric because anything you put on top of it looks a little bit lacy, and that’s what Yoongi’s blazer looked like in this MV. Plus, he’s got a choker, which looks really interesting since he’s wearing a suit.

Jungkook #1: It’s basically just the shirt that I really loved, but it’s got such a beautiful print on it, and it’s pale nude, and he has--I think--a velvet choker on. Plus, his shirt’s all flowy and nice. It doesn’t get better than this, kids.

Spring Day

Is it just me, or were their outfits a little bit strange in Spring Day? Not a whole lot, but the winterwear they had on was really unique. Especially the heavily patterned sweaters a few of the members were wearing. Quirky is the word I want to use, but it’s not really quirky as much as it’s just a bit off center.

Yoongi: I honestly didn’t know what the third outfit should be, so Yoongi is kind of here because I liked the simplicity, and the pink of his sweater is a good pink and not that gross hot pink that never looks good. He’s also got rips in his jeans in a really weird spot, which is probably not that good for the winter, but it looks nice.

Namjoon: I can’t tell if Namjoon is wearing a white hoodie with an orange hood or if he’s wearing a long-sleeve sweater on top of an orange hoodie, but either way, he looks great. Also, the blazer on top is, like, kind of weird but also a vibe. It’s an outfit that doesn’t really match, but it doesn’t clash, so I guess you’d call that complimentary?

Jungkook: It’s a simple black-and-white outfit, but the specific pieces Jungkook was wearing were all really pretty. The stripes being concentrated in the middle of the sweater and the jacket having flecks of white that look like paint go together so well.

Not Today

Everybody was poppin’ in this era, outfits and otherwise. I really like the red theme that colored everybody’s concepts, and it kind of makes me think of Not Today as a red song. Is that weird? Who knows? Anyway, this era was hard to choose from.

Namjoon: Namjoon looked like a king in this MV. He’s got purple hair that actually really pops against the rest of his outfit, and his pants being red is so fun. Also, the bleached out area of his button down shirt looks really awesome. Jungkook has a shirt like that in this MV, as well, but the stripes on Namjoon’s make the bleached spot stand out more.

Yoongi: The leather pants were a good choice because Yoongi looks awesome in them. The red detailing on them is also awesome, but the money piece is his jacket. What a nice color that jacket is, I tell you what. It stands out so much because of how vibrant it is, especially against Yoongi’s pitch-black hair.

Taehyung: This is one of those outfits that I’ve always loved, and now I get to talk about it. I cannot tell what is hanging from his hips, but the tie-dye look of it is fun; the shirt Taehyung is wearing is super weird, but I love it a lot. Also, Taehyung in a bandana always slaps. The jacket, though, is so cool. The pure white of it is already eye-catching, but the actual fit and shape of it is really unique, too.

DNA

This era doesn’t have the outfit that made me want to make this post, but it did have the MV that made me want to make this post. I mean, we all know the DNA MV is vibey as hell, and the bright and bold colors and patterns in everybody’s outfits sold that theme really easily. This was another era that was difficult to choose from because I liked a lot of the individual pieces the members were wearing, but I didn’t like many outfits as whole packages.

Taehyung #2: Taehyung looks so elegant in this outfit, and I know it’s also because of his hair, but damn. I wanna say it makes him look rich, but that’d be stupid since, you know, he is rich. Again, it’s simple, but the silk, red shirt Taehyung’s wearing is stunning.

Yoongi: I don’t really know why I chose this outfit, but I still love it. Like, it’s just a jersey and a blue jacket, but the colors are coordinated really nicely, and the blue is a pretty blue. I don’t know; I just thought it was well put together.

Taehyung #1: I did not think Taehyung in sweats and a dress shirt was gonna end up being my favorite outfit in DNA, but here we are. The red-white-and-blue theme is all over the place in the DNA MV, but it doesn’t look too gaudy of a color combo in Taehyung’s outfit in the leftmost picture. He looks comfy and cute, and I like it a lot.

MIC Drop (Steve Aoki Remix)

Is it okay to say that this MV has some of the best stylings for the boys in any MV? I mean, they all looked dope, no? It was so hard to get these screenshots, and I couldn’t even get the best ones in the world, but I really liked everyone’s outfits in this era since it was like sportswear but more swaggy.

Yoongi #2: This is a shitty screencap, but I couldn’t get a better one without Yoongi being three pixels. Anyway, the all white tracksuit is a vibe and half. Yoongi looks so damn cool. You can’t see it in the picture, but his sweatpants have black stripes on them that look awesome, and he’s got red shoes. Epic.

Yoongi #1: I hate camo, but this look is it, fam. The top half with the hoodie and the bandanas is enough, but I think Yoongi was also wearing a really long, black shirt underneath that hung the middle of his thighs, and it’s awesome against the black pants.

Taehyung: Taegi really was blessing us with the headbands in this era. This look is badass, periodt. The loose pants, the combat boots, the leather jacket with the orange lining, the Mastermind World hoodie--I mean, it’s a legendary look for Taehyung, no doubt.

FAKE LOVE

This era was a good era. Jimin’s hair looked like a tiger, Taehyung had a mullet, Jungkook had a jacket that made him look like a ruby; I mean, everyone looked amazing in the Fake LOVE era. I don’t have it in my list, but I do wanna talk about the ruby jacket Jungkook was wearing because, wow, was it pretty. That is all.

Taehyung #2: I don’t know why I like this outfit so much, but I think it’s because it’s weird? Like, it’s all neutral colors, which is why it’s not too much, but the leather straps are so strange. I love it, though, because it’s like Taehyung’s in a straitjacket, which was the point, I guess. Also, his shirt is a bit asymmetrical, so that’s fun.

Jungkook: I mean, this whole ensemble is iconic, to me. The jacket is so sporadically colored because it’s, like, tie-dyed but also sectioned off by color, so that’s awesome; then you got his ratty tee and the plaid shirt tied around his waist. And if that wasn’t enough to butter your bread (pun intended), JK’s got ripped jeans and blocky shoes, baby. What a combo.

Taehyung #1: How pretty is Taehyung’s shirt? It’s flowy and flowery and the colors are absolutely gorgeous. Taehyung’s jeans are also really interesting because they’ve got different shades of denim, little frays and rips, and striped details that make them look interesting. I guess it’s just a shirt and jeans, but the pieces are so beautiful.

IDOL

I take it back; this era was the worst era for getting screenshots. The pain I went through to get Taehyung in that suit and Jungkook in that hanbok was ridiculous. Anyway, as IDOL is a chaotic as fuck song, the outfits were equally chaotic, and all of them were kind of awesome in their own quirky ways. Like, even though Taehyung’s red-and-white outfit with the suspenders is ridiculous under normal circumstances, with Kim Taehyung and the IDOL MV together, it was somehow an awesome outfit. That’s basically how I felt about 90% of the outfits in the MV.

Yoongi: It’s just a really nice outfit. Is that enough? The color of his scarf is stunning, and he’s got a pretty turquoise shirt that you can see beneath the hemline of his white shirt, and both of those add nice pops of color to an otherwise neutral set of outfits the boys had during these shots.

Jungkook: Jungkook’s hanbok is a revelation, for real. It was so hard to get a screen shot of it, and the one I have doesn’t do it justice at all. The faint red details in the jacket are so pretty, especially when they pop up here and there as Jungkook is dancing. Also, the dandelion print on the pants is beautiful. It’s all-black, so it can kind of look basic depending on the shot, but the accents of the hanbok are stunning when you see them.

Taehyung: Taehyung is the only member who’s suit pants did not match the jacket, and I do not know why, but it kind of looks better than the rest of the suits because of it? Like, Taehyung’s blazer pops more to me because his jacket is the only piece of print he has, and the print is gorgeous. There’s these orange sections on his dress shirt collar, too, that are fun. Also, can you see his shoes in the picture? They’re super cool looking, aren’t they? I’ve no idea what they’re called, but I like them a lot.

Airplane pt.2 - Japanese ver.

The boys’ outfits were so fun in this era. I don’t know what style I should call it, but it’s like summer in Mexico, you know? Anyway, I thought all the members looked really unique in this MV because all the pieces were put together really well. Plus, everything was really sandy in tone, which felt like a solid representation of the song for whatever reason.

Jungkook: Is it the dark red jacket? Is it the weird red-and-brown striped shirt? Is it the white pants? It’s a lot about the white pants, actually. Regardless, I can’t explain why Jungkook’s outfit in the beginning of the MV is so nice to look at, but it is. Is it the--I think they are called--spectator shoes?

Taehyung #2: This looks like a plain outfit, I guess, because it’s almost all white, but the individual pieces are awesome. I can’t tell if Taehyung’s got a white cardigan over a white button down or if it’s the same shirt, but two of them; either way, the layered look came out really well. Also, the hat and the glasses straps are a mood. I think what made me love this outfit as a whole, though, are the pants because, I think they’re silk, and they’ve got blue dots all over them, which I apparently really like.

Taehyung #1: I don’t know why I think of Taehyung’s outfit in the leftmost picture as the outfit that represents this era, but I guess that’s why I like it so much. It’s hard to tell in the photo I have, but the lacy cardigan is so pretty. It almost has a glimmer to it because of the material, so that’s nice, but then there’s the scarf and the tan pants and the moccasin-like shoes, and--listen, this is a good fit, okay?

Boy With Luv

If you’ve made it this far, congrats! You’ve found the only era in which I’ve chosen one member for all three outfits. We’ll talk about that in a minute, but Taehyung was styled so damn well for the Boy With Luv MV. I don’t know why they decided on two seperate styles for the boys that was all-pink and then all-white, but they looked so damn good. Like, their other two sets of outfits were just kind-of-retro-and-goofy randomness, but then they had such strong color themes as well. Whatever; it turned out amazingly.

Taehyung #3: I really couldn’t find a third outfit that I really like for the last slot, but I chose Taehyung’s outfit in the rightmost picture because the light denim, white dress shirt, and white detail on the jacket was simple yet interesting. I don’t know if that’s weird, but the little details like the cuffs of the jacket or the cropped jeans with the detail at the bottom made me love the outfit.

Taehyung #2: I thought I knew this was gonna be my number one, but I digress. I don’t know why the other members were basically just in sweats that looked like pajamas--besides Namjoon, who, for some reason, was in a suit and sweater--for the pink theme, but they put Taehyung in a gorgeous jacket that made him look like the dude that invented sex. Does that make sense? Anyway, the tone of pink for outfit, the tie-dye shirt, and the silk jacket are all iconic.

Taehyung #1: No, but Taehyung’s white suit is so stunning? I don’t think the material is silk, but whatever the name of it is that escapes me right now is gorgeous. It’s got, like, a sheen to it that’s really beautiful. And the fluffy sleeves? Please. They’re such a cool texture, and it makes Taehyung look so elegant. As an aside, they definitely darkened the blue of his hair for the shoot with the white suit, right? Because it looks like they did, and the blue his hair is in the leftmost picture is amazing.

Lights

I mean, this era was basically just clothes the boys already wear rather than costumes for the MV, but I’m talking about it anyway. I guess the idea was for the outfits to be casual but colorful to mimic the message of Lights and the tone of the song.

Jungkook #2: This is yet another case in which I didn’t know what outfit to put in the third slot, so I said, “Hey, Jungkook’s pick jacket is nice,” and I arrived here. I mean, it is a nice jacket. Normally, I don’t like hot pink, but I think since Jungkook’s jeans are light and he’s wearing a light shirt, the jacket almost acts as a dark color and offsets the light pieces.

Jungkook #1: I mean, how do I talk about a simple outfit, you know? It just looks nice. He’s got a blue shirt underneath, so that’s a nice pop of color. I think I mostly like the shirt he has on over his tee because it’s pinstriped, and I like pinstripes. That’s all I got, but I really do like the outfit.

Jimin: Can you say, “This is my favorite outfit because of the jacket?” Good. Genuinely, though, this is the nicest outfit, by far, in the Lights era. The way the color is printed on the black is super interesting because it’s like one long stripe, but the stripe is a bit of a gradient with the black from the rest of the jacket creeping in. I don’t know; I like it more than I probably need to.

We’re going with the main MV, kids, but let the record show that Taehyung’s outfit in the Manifesto Film was bomb as fuck. Actually, they were all bomb as fuck. Anyway, I guess this MV was going for a peasant vibe? I don’t mean that in a rude way, but it’s supposed to be about people fighting their fears, right? So, it makes sense that the concept would be about scruffy characters that stand up and fight. So, yeah; a chic peasant vibe.

Jimin: You can’t at all see it in the picture I have, but the reason I chose Jimin’s outfit is because it has some synching in down the front that looks really cool. I don’t want to say that made my decision, but that one detail turned it from a basic outfit to something that looked a bit more elevated. I mean, it’s the same thing with the boots and the fact that the jacket on top is cropped. Little details matter to me.

J-Hope: It’s a basic outfit, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t cool. I think part of the reason I love it so much is because it’s dirty. Is that weird? It’s an outfit that reminds me of scuffed boots because it’s black but a little mussed. Anyway, the overall affect was awesome.

Taehyung: I think this goes down as an iconic Taehyung look, for me. It’s such a good costume. There were a lot of browns in this MV, so--much like with Hobi’s outfit--the charcoal of Taehyung’s pants stood out a lot to me. He’s also got this grey-white combat boots that stick out so much when they’re on camera. Mostly, though, it’s the vest and shirt that got me wild. The vest is such a nice color, but it’s got that ragged feel, the shirt is ratty and antique looking, and the entire ensemble is a win from head to toe. Including the thorns on Taehyung’s neck because, holy shit, are those the coolest additions to any concept in any BTS era.

Black Swan

I tried so hard to capture these outfits, but you really do need to go look at them yourself to understand how pretty they are. Black Swan has kind of a simple MV if you think about it, but honestly, the wardrobe brings so much life and character to it. In the same way I Need U has the shorts stories in it and IDOL has all the CGI in it, I really think the magic from the Black Swan era has a lot to do with the outfits. Especially considering how well the wardrobe looked in conjunction with the choreography.

Yoongi: This was almost another entirely Taehyung era with Taehyung second all-black outfit, but Yoongi really had a stunning concept for his black swan ensemble. I really love that they put him in boots, and his slacks are really pretty, but the shirt they styled him in is such a good piece. It’s entirely black, but it’s still striped, and the contrast in it is so beautiful to look at.

Taehyung #2: So, Taehyung had the most black showing in his white swan outfit, and I don’t know if that’s because Taehyung was supposed to seem like the member that would transform the fastest or what, but I loved his suit a lot. The jacket is super asymmetrical, as you can see in the photo, and it looks gorgeous during the choreo. Also, underneath his black vest, he’s got this sheer turtleneck that looks absolutely beautiful when you see it up close. Plus, the feather detail on Taehyung’s necklace is really pretty, too.

Taehyung #1: Please go look at the suit in the leftmost picture in the MV because it is stunning. I don’t know anything about who designed it or who put Taehyung in it, but it’s crazy beautiful. Like, his shirt is velvet, I think, which is already an interesting textural piece, but then the suit itself has detail work everywhere. The base material has a sheen to it, but then there’s patches that are glittery and gorgeous, as well, and when the light hits them, they’re so, so pretty. I love, love, love this suit.

Stay Gold

This is another era that’s kind of full of typical outfits, but they’ve got some interesting pieces going on that make the wardrobe for Stay Gold stand out more than in Lights or RUN, for example. Because the MV moves from inside to outside, their main outfits look different in each area since you see them in cool-toned scenes and then warm-toned scenes, which is pretty fun.

J-Hope: I’m sorry these photos show, like, nothing, but let me tell about Hobi’s outfit. So, initially, there’s a blue cardigan on top of Hobi’s other two shirts, and that’s not a piece we need to concern ourselves with. The button down Hobi is wearing is blue primarily but the fabric is plaid at the bottom of one of the sleeves and the shirt, which looks awesome. Plus, his pants are kind of mossy looking, and I think they’re red, as well. I don’t know why that looks so cool to me, but there it is.

Yoongi: Yoongi’s just got a lot of nice layering going on. First of all, the boots are awesome. Secondly, the cut of his pants is really nice, especially since he’s got boots on. The baggy sweater he has on is nice, as well, because of the holes in it--I understand that’s weird--but the part that makes his outfit look awesome to me isn’t even in the photo I was able to get. Yoongi’s got a plaid shirt around his waist that’s, like, sand colored, and it compliments his boots so well. Basically, the outfit was built around the boots, and I vibe with it.

Taehyung: I mean, all Taehyung is wearing is a white shirt, and denim jacket, combat boots, and what I believe are black jeans, but it looks so nice because of the specific pieces they are. For instance, the denim jacket is a really stunning shade that I don’t feel like I see enough, and it worked really well with the black jeans. It’s a simple outfit, but I love it because of the solid elements.

Dynamite

This was, without a doubt, the most interesting era of BTS’s wardrobe. Maybe you’d give that title to IDOL, DNA, or War of Hormone because those outfits were so song-specific, just like Dynamite, but the disco theme on these boys is a cultural reset. I think I can confidently say that, for me, the Dynamite era had the absolute best set of outfits as a whole. Every single era has had an outfit I don’t like, but every outfit in the Dynamite MV was fire.

Yoongi: I mean, look how cute he looks, you know? My man’s got a Space Jam jersey on for fuck’s sake; how can I not include this outfit? Real shit, though, the black and white sweatpants and shirt or whatever it is that Yoongi is wearing is so pretty. Like, the print on it is so pleasing to look at, and the cut and stitching of the top piece is super nice.

Jimin: I struggled between choosing this Jimin outfit and the denim outfit with the rainbow details, but I love Jimin’s bomber jacket so damn much. It looks like candy. Whether you think that’s weird or not is your business, but it’s colorful like candy, and it’s shiny like candy, so that’s what the outfit it. Also, he’s got those jeans on that you can tell are hella expensive because they look really nice, and I like those, too. Just as an aside.

Taehyung: This is the reason I’m making this post. This fucking green suit has lived in my mind rent free since I saw it. Whoever it was that put Taehyung in this suit deserves to rule the world because it’s such a focal piece. Legit, like, you put everyone else in loose shirts and denim, but you put Kim Taehyung in a green suit that makes him look like the richest man alive? How could it not be a focal piece? I could talk about Taehyung’s shoes, I could talk about the tan silk of the vest, I could talk about the striped tie, I could talk about Taehyung stunning blonde hair for this era that makes the outfit and the song even better for days. Just know this look is iconic, and it’s probably my favorite look on this list.

Life Goes On

So, I cheated for this one, but I also kind of didn’t. None of these photos are from the main MV because I couldn’t get good photos of these outfits from the main MV; however, these outfits are actually shown in the main MV, so it’s not really cheating. I just went to the other MV versions to get better pictures of them. Anyway, what a comfy vibe they went for with Life Goes On; I love it a lot since the song is what it is. It’s nice to have MV outfits that represent the song so well and play into how you take in the music.

Yoongi: It’s the pastel cardigan, for me, fam. I mean, obviously, the entire outfit is nice, what with the light wash jeans and the white tee. It’s just that the cardigan adds an interesting piece to it to make it less basic.

Jimin: It’s kind of the same thing with Jimin. Well, Jimin’s also got a bear on his shirt, so that’s adorable. Honestly, the violent green of his sweater is both appealing and not appealing, in a way, but I think that’s why I like it so much. It’s fuzzy and has nice texture to it, as well. Jimin definitely looked the most comfy of all the members in this outfit.

Taehyung: Why I love Taehyung in tan-and-white pajamas, I couldn’t say. I think it’s because the pajamas are already nice and have a nice pattern on them, but then you put a cozy looking cardigan on top of them, and it makes it look even better. Or do I like it so much because the cardigan is a solid color where the pajamas have a pattern? Whatever; Taehyung looks cute. That is all.

Film out

I’ll be honest: this era was hard to choose outfits from because everyone kind of looked the same since everything was almost entirely white sweaters and button downs. The outfits were all nice, it’s just that none of them stuck out that much. I mostly went for the outfits that looked the best as a whole rather than considering the individual pieces.

Jin: Jin looked the most unique out all the members; that’s for sure. I like that he’s wearing black pants, but I also really like the short-sleeve shirt he has on top of his white tee. Rather than it being a plain white outfit, the pants and the stripes made it look a bit more interesting.

Yoongi: Yoongi in a white suit always slaps. I don’t know; I like the suit because it’s not really a real suit. It’s a thinner fabric, so I guess it looks a bit more casual than a usual suit, and I like that a lot. Plus, Yoongi’s got some really pretty white shoes that he wears with it.

Taehyung: Of the sweaters and button downs in this MV, I liked Taehyung’s sweater the best. His is similar to Jungkook’s but Jungkook’s sweater was a bit darker, I think, and I like the shade of Taehyung’s. Plus, Taehyung’s got white shoes and white pants, which make the whole outfit look really beautiful. The textural difference between the pieces makes the difference, I think.

Butter

So, the queen came out and broke records. She also gave me a Taejin goldmine. Y’all, it’s not like the other members aren’t flirty as hell in Butter, but Taejin were absolute other beings. Anyway, I think the boys had something like five outfits for this MV? Mostly suits, but there were two sets of outfits that were odd but also fun. Those ones, I didn’t love, but suits are hard to choose from. These three are the ones that really stuck out.

Taehyung #2: I think it’s the shirt. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what in the world is on it, but I like the texture. I liked JK’s suit in the beginning, too, but I think I liked the Taehyung’s lighter shirt a lot better. Otherwise, the two are close to the same. Oh, the sunglasses are a vibe, too.

Jin: Why has no one put Jin in yellow before now? Why did take a song about a yellow spread to put Jin in yellow? Honestly, of the yellow-detailed outfits at the end of the MV, I liked Jin’s the best because the yellow was used in a few, small places that popped rather than being too understated or overblown (no offense to Taehyung and Hobi’s yellow jackets). Like, Jin doesn’t have a tie, so it’s not blocking the shirt, the yellow stripes on his pants look so cool when he dances, and the pocket square is a nice detail. So, Jin looks good as fuck in this MV.

Taehyung #1: I was done for the second I saw Kim Taehyung in a bright orange suit. Taehyung is always the one that gets the suits like this, isn’t he? I mean, he can work it, though. The nude tie was a really gorgeous detail, I thought, because it didn’t retract from the suit at all. I guess the same can be said about the shirt, too. I don’t know, I just really love the entire package of Taehyung’s outfit in the leftmost picture.

Permission to Dance

This was such a cute little music video, and I thought the cowboy/Western theme was super fun since the boys have never done this concept before. I knew what my number one was gonna be from the teaser, but the last two were difficult to pick. I liked Yoongi’s outfit at the end of the MV, and I liked Jungkook’s outfit in the last frame (but there were no close-ups of it, unfortunately). Ultimately, I settled on what I did because I liked the details.

Jin: Sometimes I like simplicity, and Jin’s outfit was simple, but the gold paisley design on his pants--which are leather by the way; I know, absolutely criminal--is gorgeous. I also liked his boots a lot and the fact that his fringe was on his shirtfront pockets.

Taehyung #2: Initially, I had Namjoon’s first outfit in this list, but after watching the Permission to Dance MV way too many times, I ended really loving Taehyung’s all-red outfit. I liked the fringe on the legs, I like the fit of the slacks, I love the cut of the shirt, I love the way they styled this outfit, I like the boots, the accessories are awesome, and this outfit flatters Taehyung so damn much. Basically, even though it’s just red on red, it’s a damn good way to do red on red.

Taehyung #1: This fit is it, fam. It’s it on Taehyung specifically, and it’s it in general. Especially on Taehyung, though. That’s not what this is about. Anyway, the pieces of this outfit are really nice. The hat, surprisingly, fits this particular outfit really well. The denim wash on the shirt and the jeans look really nice together, and all the details--from the rips in the jeans to the bandana at the hips to the belt to the chain--were all things that made me think this outfit was awesome the moment I saw it. Not to mention the boots and accessories.

Alright, that’s it. I don’t know if you actually read this post or just looked at the photos (which, if you did the latter, I’m so sorry for the shitty screenshots.) If you have a favorite outfit, era, or set of outfits, let me know in the replies. And if you know the types of clothes these boys were wearing in any of these photos, I’d be interested in actually knowing what I’m talking about next time I talk about their clothes, so drop me some info. Anyway, thanks for reading!

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #kim taehyung #park jimin #jeon jungkook #min yoongi #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #jung hoseok

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rae-gar-targaryen · 5 years

Text

only as alone as i wanna be | [bh]

A/N: Well instead of working on my Peter Parker writing challenge fic, Billy Hargrove won’t leave my brain alone. So here we go.

I’ve retconned the Billy & Max relationship a bit for this, so it’s a lil au. Sorry!

Please let me know if you think I should continue!

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader (I’m still trying to get the hang of writing for the “reader.” Hopefully this is vague enough that you can imagine yourself. If not, send me feedback so I can get better!)

Warnings: Language. Passing, vague mentions of sex. Some Billy Hargrove chain-smoking. Bad writing with a jumpy plot. Seriously, I think I’m way too abrupt. Please send feedback. This one is probably doomed for a re-write.

Word Count: 2.4k of nonsensical, self-important musical references and haphazard, fleeting feelings.

Summary: The snarky record store girl does not like Billy Hargrove. Not at all.

**NOT MY GIF!**

—

Winter, 1984

The bell dinged above the door, a jarring interval between the wistful tones of Siouxsie and the Banshees’ Take Me Back. Prompting you to look up from your stack of records in mild annoyance. It had been such a productive day until now, and the vinyl wasn’t going to restock itself.

Well.

Had you known Mr. Born-In-The-USA-Bruce-Springsteen himself was going to walk in, you would’ve played something far less his taste than Siouxsie. Just to annoy him. Serves him right, right?

He paused in the doorway of the shop, wrinkling his nose almost imperceptibly as the sound hit his ears, before striding on toward the “Pop/Rock” section of the store, thumbing his way through Motley Crue’s latest.

Figures, you thought. A man who douses himself with as much commercial-ass hairspray and cologne would like some commercial-ass garbage “metal.” Besides, you’d walked past the blue Camaro enough times in the school parking lot to hear the dulcet tones of whatever bland-ass hair metal he was currently into trying its best to blast the doors off of his beloved metal steed.

You felt a twinge of guilt. You shouldn’t judge the customers for their musical taste so quickly– but between the old church ladies who came in for Handel’s Messiah or whatever they had heard over public radio that week, and the girls from your class riffing on Madonna, you had had just about enough.

Hadn’t anyone experienced the true depth of Queen? Keep Yourself Alive, man!

You had been working at Hawkins’ local record store during the summers since childhood – Old Mr. Cohen who owned the place used to let you sort tapes into piles for cents on the hour until you were old enough for a real job. Immersed in the music since a young age, you appreciated the breadth and depth the shop had to offer– your favorites developing into pieces heavy on synth. Bonus points if the lyrics made you feel especially existential. You loved that moody shit.

Now, at 17, you practically ran the place, Mr. Cohen comfortable with leaving you to your devices at the store, so long as the till was counted and inventory was properly stocked. You were grateful for the freedom– squeezing homework into slow nights and chatting about deeper portions of discography with regulars.

Billy Hargrove was not a regular. Neither did he promise a slow night, if the rumors amongst your female classmates were to be believed. Not that you partook in the Hawkins High rumor mill.

He was a recent, but obtrusive, arrival in your high school’s social scene. Mere months into his appearance in your town and the age-in-kind female population had seemingly lost their brain cells faster than inhaling their usual clouds of hairspray could do it for them.

Still, you had to admit, he was good-looking. The Springsteen comparison was apt. Billy Hargrove wore jeans like he was doing the denim a favor. His shirts usually two-thirds of the way unbuttoned, even in winter, which was not an unkind sight. His sun-kissed, California boy skin stood a stark contrast to the pallor of the Indiana natives you grew up with. His eyes were crystalline and swam like oceans of trouble and broken promises.

My god. You were a moody-ass bitch. Waxing poetic about this jock-strap of a human being who you’d heard pummelled Steve Harrington and nearly drowned himself in beer and barely-legal pussy. Come on, babe. Get it together.

He strode up to you at the counter, his boots clunking against the store’s tiled floor. Shout at the Devil was clutched in his fist.

He dropped the vinyl on the counter, eyes cast down and swiping a cigarette out of the packet in his jacket pocket and lighting up, the clink-thwip of his lighter meeting your ears before you could tell him to put it out.

“You can’t do that in here,” you told him.

He hummed in not-acknowledgment-acknowledgment, choosing to ignore you as he inhaled deeply.

“Seriously, dude. Old man Cohen hates that shit. Put it out or go outside and finish it. If your tits don’t freeze off. Since they’re, you know, halfway out of your shirt like that? You do know it’s December. In Indiana. Right?” You pressed, knowing full well you were being obnoxious. If only to make a point. Game recognize game, right?

He looked up, ocean eyes meeting your own. His frown was instantaneous.

“Fine,” he huffed. Before promptly stubbing out his cigarette on your freshly wiped counter, dropping the butt to the floor and twisting it under his booted heel.

“Ugh. Come on, man. I have to clean that now.”

“You were so adamant about it before.”

“Whatever man. Just the Motley Crue for you today?” You pressed. Why is he prolonging this interaction?

He rolled his eyes, his line of sight catching on the promotional sign above the counter.

“Well, now, that says new vinyl is two for one. Which one can I get with this?”

You dropped your head and exhaled deeply– So this was how this evening was going to go. You gestured at the New Release wall to the left of the front counter.

“Anything from here, Pretty Boy. New vinyl.”

Cool as you please, if you please.

Billy glanced at you, sensing your annoyance. A smirk graced his lips. He knew if he prolonged this interaction it would surely get a rise out of you.

He held up Burning From the Inside, Bauhaus’s latest release. New, but not new.

“What about this one? Cover art is alright.” He gestured at the gothica aesthetic adorning the front jacket.

“That’s Bauhaus,” you informed him, as though that would explain everything.

“Bauhaus? What is that?”

You snorted.

“No, seriously. What is that? Is that like … a sex thing?” he asked, derisively.

“It’s not a sex thing. It’s more of a not-your-kind-of-thing thing,” you stated primly.

“And how would you know what my thing is, princess? I’m guessing by the black-on-black and torn fishnets you’d be all to familiar with whatever a Bauhaus is,” he retorted.

“Well….” You went to the used pile and grabbed Press Eject and Give Me the Tape, before putting it over the speakers. As Bela Lugosi’s Dead started to play throughout the store, Billy looked unamused.

“They broke up last year. Gone too soon,” you explained, wistfully. You put your hand over your heart as though in mourning.

He leaned one arm on the counter, Motley Crue seemingly long forgotten.

“So, what is this song?”

“Bela Lugosi’s Dead? Like, Stairway to Heaven, but for goths, I guess,” you reasoned. “I’m guessing you’re more of a Scorpions kind of guy? We have Love At First Sting,” you gestured vaguely toward the wall.

Billy quirked an eyebrow at you.

“And how would you know what kind of guy I am, princess?” His voice lowering as he leans even further over the counter.

“Um. If the female population at our school is to be believed? Well, you get it…” you trailed off. “Plus, I don’t know, have you looked in a mirror lately? Scratch that. You probably don’t stop looking in mirrors. Should I cover the reflective surfaces in the store, lest you get distracted?”

Billy at least had the decency to look shocked at your barb.

But not before recovering quickly.

“Maybe you just cover the reflective surfaces in here to hide the fact that you don’t have a reflection,” he quipped.

You were stunned. Your eyes widened.

“Was that a– vampire joke, Hargrove?”

Billy shrugged. “Well, If the post-punk bullshit shoe fits… I mean, what even is playing over the speakers right now? I’m in here enough to know Cohen lets his employees pick the music from the Used pile during their shifts. Though clearly I don’t come in often enough during your shifts.”

“Thank God for that,” you sighed.

Deciding he’d had enough of the banter, Billy snagged Black Flag’s latest off of the New Release wall.

“Two for one, right?” he snarked, slapping down enough cash for one album before grabbing his findings off of the counter and striding out into the wintery evening– the bell over the door clanging after him for good measure. Like an exclamation point on whatever the ever loving fuck that conversation was. Did you— offend him??

You decided, sweeping up the not-forgotten ash from his cigarette off the floor that you didn’t ever need to have an interaction with Billy Hargrove again. You were most decidedly not post-punk bullshit.

–

Billy Hargrove had never been so ruffled in all of his life.

Throwing the two vinyl sleeves down in the passenger seat of his beloved Camaro, he slammed the door behind him.

Clink-Thwip.

Billy lit up, the chemical rush of his deep inhale-exhale instantly soothing his frazzled nerves.

He flicked the lid of his lighter a few more times, for good measure. A nervous habit. Clink-Thunk. Clink-Thunk. Clink-Thunk.

“ ‘Never stop looking in a mirror,’ my ass,” he grumbled, meeting his eyes in the rear-view before realizing what he was doing and looking away.

He’d seen that girl before. She sat alone in the cafeteria most times, headphones on, reading a book. She seemed like the type to enjoy Slyvia Plath. Not that he knew enough about Slyvia Plath to really know what that type of girl was. He swore his mom owned a coverworn copy of some novel or another with that name on it.

He drove away, tires squealing behind him, hair metal blasting from his speakers. Okay, so maybe you’d been right about his musical taste. It’s not like he’d give you the satisfaction. Besides, he’d bought BLACK FLAG, for Christ’s sake. You didn’t know him.

But still, he couldn’t deny, there was something about your demeanor. Your witticism. Your bad type. And yeah, maybe he’d sneaked a peek at your ass when you came around from the counter to scold him for smoking. Sue him, he was only human.

He knew there was more to you. A sweet undertone– like peaches and cream. Also maybe he liked ruffling your proverbial feathers. Just maybe.

He had asked Tommy about you at school the next day.

Tommy shrugged, but not before looking over at the corner of the cafeteria where you sat.

“I don’t know man. She’s hot. But, like, in the way weird girls are hot. You can look, but touching may cost you.”

Billy didn’t know what that meant. But Tommy was literally too stupid to insult. So he bit back a comment effectuating that he didn’t care and slammed the rest of his can of Coke.

–

You had seen him before. From his tire-squealing entry into your town, you were certain you’d had him pegged from Jump Street. The chain-smoking, that infernal clink-twhip of his American Flag lighter. The keg stands. The raucous screaming in Steve Harrington’s face.

“Plant your feet, Harrington!”

Plant your feet indeed. Lest you be bowled over with unwanted, obtrusive thoughts of the potential depths of Billy Hargrove’s soul. If such a thing existed.

Seriously, though. Why would he buy a Black Flag album? If there was one thing Billy Hargrove was not, you decided, it was punk rock.

You’d seen him take his sister to the arcade, and wait for her after school. Was it brotherly affection that motivated these little Babysitter’s Club moments, or was he forced to? Still, you saw the way that girl on the skateboard looked up at her seemingly cool older brother. Like he hung the stars.

He did brush off Tina after the basketball game last week. And, he bought Black Flag. That man had never listened to Black Flag in all of his life. You were sure of it.

Could he really be all bad?

–

The semester pressed on. Billy Hargrove at the fringe of your thoughts and your eye-line. Was he trying to talk to you in school?

You had the closing shift at the store again on Saturday. You were in the midst of carrying a box of tapes up the stairs from the storage room when you heard the ding of the bell above the door. You sighed, put the box down, and made your way toward the front to greet the customer. Upon seeing the back of Billy Hargrove’s perfectly coiffed, curly head, you were ready to turn back around and act like you hadn’t seen him. Too late. He clearly knew you were working.

“Please don’t let it be you,” you groaned.

“No promises, dollface.”

You stood in front of him, hands on your hips.

“So? What can I do for you?”

Billy smirked. “I can think of a few things, sweetheart,” he drawled, quirking a perfectly arched brow just so. You hated that you now noticed these things about Billy Hargrove’s perfectly stupid and stupidly perfect face.

“I don’t have time for this, Pretty Boy.”

“When are you off?” He asked.

“After close,” you said.

“Go out with me.” Billy Hargrove said, now surely unsure of himself.

“And why in the ever-loving-fuck would I do that?” You had to hand it to yourself. You were doing a damn good job of looking like you didn’t care. Meanwhile, your insides were pudding and you were just sure he knew it, too.

“Because you want to. Because I want you to. Because– Because I want to. Because I listened to Black Flag. Because I get your whole thing, plaid skirt and all,” he stated, gesturing vaguely over your person.

You rolled your eyes, choosing not to answer him. Instead, you diverted. Diversion is good, right?

“Where’s your usual crowd of hairsprayed hangers-on? Or are you always alone after school?”

“Only as alone as I wanna be, doll,” He drawled.

You’d had to hand it to Billy Hargrove. He could definitely turn a phrase when he wanted to. His crystalline eyes could definitely see right through you. As the flush travelled through your body, taking in his artful smirk and powerful visage, you knew:

Billy Hargrove was going to be the death of you. Like the satisfyingly sweet pour of languid waves of syrup cascading over waffles, drowning you in a beautiful, thick avalanche of a saccharine dream. A powdered sugar kiss dusting over your better senses, coating them in the flush of dripping endearment.

Surely you could be alone together? The crystal ball and the odyssey.

Would you go?

tagging bc you inspire me:

@nappingtopknot @ayeayecaptaingally @hey-its-grey @tigerlilynoh @andallthatmishigas @oh-star-how-the-mighty-fall @youngmoneymilla @noturjacky (If you don’t want to be tagged, feel free to ignore, or tell me firmly -- but possibly politely?? to fuck off)

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themoonandotherslikeit · 5 years

Text

The Hand That Reaches for God- Chapter 23

Warnings: Graphic violence, gore, dark material, and language.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“They had always fitted together like pieces of an unsolved (and perhaps unsolvable) puzzle - the smoke of her into the solidness of him, the solitary ness of her into the gathering of him, the strangeness of her into the straightforwardness of him, the insouciance of her into the restraint of him. The quietness of her into the quietness of him.” - Arundhati Roy

-15 Months Before-

Dean came home from work, his hands covered in oil. He kicked off his boots, eager to hop into the shower and snuggle up against Lisa. She was his light in the darkness. Being with her was like the clouds finally opened up, letting him finally see the sky again. He’d spent so much time in the dark; it was damn good to finally have something worth waking up for.

The apartment was quiet, and he wondered if she’d fallen asleep in bed watching a movie again. She’d been so tired lately, and she deserved some rest. He slowly opened the bathroom door so he could shower when he saw her sitting on the floor, with her back against the wall.

“Lis? Hey, you okay?” Dean looked down at her, confused. Why is she sitting in here alone? Her face was in her hands, her elbows propped on her knees. “Are you sick? Baby?”

She burst into tears at his feet, and he lowered himself down in front of her. “Hey, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” Lisa looked up at him through smudged, running mascara. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen. He reached forward and wiped her makeup off under her eye with his thumb. “Talk to me.”

The least he could do was listen. She’d been there for him during his darkest moments over the last five months. Whatever it was, they could do it together, but she shook her head. He sighed; he had no right to push her to talk, and just as he moved to give her space, her hand extended in a fist. He glanced down at it, and she opened her palm, revealing a piece of white plastic that rested in her hand. Dean slowly took it from her, his eyes settling on two little blue lines crossing each other in a perfect plus sign. He swallowed hard. “You?

She nodded slowly, wiping her eyes. Lisa was watching him now, analyzing his reaction to the news that she was pregnant, the news that he was going to be a father. A father. His head was spinning.

“Oh Dean,” she murmured, reaching forward and wiping his cheeks with her thumbs. He was crying, and he hadn’t even noticed. “It’s… it’s okay.”

He looked at her, then, taking her in. Her messy dark hair, swollen cheeks, wide eyes, and he pulled her into his arms with a kiss. “We’re having a baby?”

His heart was squeezing in his chest, tighter and tighter, and he worried that he might burst. He could feel Lisa nodding against his cheek, and he let out the laugh that he was stifling previously.

Dean Winchester was going to be a father. It was laughable. It was unimaginable, but it was the truth. He pulled back from her, taking her hands in his. It was something that he’d never given himself permission to want, not after who his father was, but when he saw the plus sign it all came together in an instant. It clicked. “Lis... I love you. You know that, right? I’m here. I’m here for all of it, and honestly... fuck, I can’t wait for this.”

He crouched down and touched his lips to her stomach, whispering against the fabric of her shirt. “Hey little bean... I’m your dad, and I’ll love you forever.”

-30 Days After-

Dean’s eyes were fixed on the three little letters embroidered in the blanket. It was enough to make him want to vomit. It was too fucking much. Lisa, well the Rogue that used to be Lisa, still reached for him, stumbling closer.

I’ll love you forever.

It felt like a lie. It all felt like such a lie.

“Dean,” Emerson whispered at his side.

He couldn’t look at Emerson; he couldn’t look away from Lisa’s empty, accusing stare. Guilt racked him, and regret began creeping its way up his spine to remind him of every mistake he’d ever made. He didn’t know where Ben was, but if Lisa was dead holding onto his blanket, he couldn’t have survived. Dean knew that it was on him. It shouldn’t have mattered that Ben wasn’t his blood, he already knew that family was more than blood, but he left anyway. He let his broken ego send him running. That was what he was good at, after all. He ran from home, ran from Emerson, ran from the military, ran from Lisa, and he was gearing up to run again. He couldn’t fucking deal with any of it, and if it was in his rear view mirror, then at least he would only have to face his problems when his eyes were closed.

Dean’s eyes settled on Lisa’s black teeth, horrible saliva dripping out of her open maw, and he remembered how beautiful her smile used to be. She had this way about her that could pull him from the darkness that he was so comfortable living in. He did his damndest throughout his entire life to not be the selfish one and to focus on everyone else, but Lisa got him at his worst, and now she was dead. That was on Dean. Her head tilted back, exposing her ripped out throat, likely made by teeth. Someone’s mouth was on her throat, chewing and ripping at her flesh until she changed into a creature. He wondered how long that lasted, and if it hurt. He wondered if there was a way to save her.

Em reached out and touched his forearm. “Dean,” she whispered again.

He couldn’t help Lisa, but he could still protect the Maklen’s and Sam. Dean had always dreamed about being with Emerson, even when he was trying not to, but he never thought that this was what it’d be like when he finally was able to be with her. He couldn��t save Lisa, she was already wasted, empty, and dead. The Rogue opened its mouth and let out a horrible wail, and he decided that it was about time that he put his past behind him, so he shifted the Jeep into gear and pressed down on the gas.

The sound was a sickening crack! The baby blanket was finally released from her death grip into the air. It spread out, as if it was trying to catch flight, but it fluttered downward in a swaying motion, until it settled in the mud. The Jeep climbed over the Rogue’s broken form, pushing forward to exit through the gate. The metal chain link pieces scraped along the outside of the Jeep in a painful screeching sound, but they were able to squeeze through.

He wasn’t sure if it was the sounds of the Jeep or the Rogue’s battle cry that called the rest of the horde over, but they were slowly, but surely, being chased. He had no concerns that they’d be able to outrun them, the Rogues were slow at best, and they were in a vehicle, but even as the distance between the Jeep and the creatures lengthened, he knew that they’d never stop running. They’d be running until the day that they died.

-31 Days After-

A thick, orange beam of sunlight pulled Emerson from a restless sleep. Her head was pressed against the window of the Jeep. She turned to her left to catch a glimpse of Dean. He looked exhausted, stiff. His hand was extended, gripping the wheel tightly, as he kept the Jeep straight. They were driving on a back road somewhere that Emerson didn’t recognize. She rubbed her eyes and sat up all of the way.

Pheli and Sam were asleep, cuddling together in the backseat. “Morning,” she whispered to Dean cautiously. She didn’t want to scare him, because he was obviously on edge, hell, they all were.

Dean’s eyes flickered to Emerson; they were red tinted and heavy from the need to sleep. “Hey,” he croaked his voice rough.

“You look tired, Dean. Let me drive.”

He shook his head, gripping the steering wheel tighter, somehow. “I’m good.”

“Dean,” Emerson warned gently. “Pull over.”

“Can’t, not safe.”

Her fingers brushed his on the steering wheel, and he turned toward her. She could hear his quick intake of breath, as he nodded quickly and pulled the Jeep off of the road at a rest area. It was an open picnic area surrounded by trees. “Come on,” she said softly, opening her door. Dean followed her, letting the doors shut Sam and Pheli in, the keys still in the ignition. Emerson walked to one of the picnic tables, sat on the tabletop, and patted the spot next to her.

He eyed her tiredly, before sitting down next to her.

The morning air was fresh, the sky clear of clouds, and the area around them was void of proof that the world was imploding around them. The red grass reaching up past their calves, twisting angrily, was serving as their only reminder that this world was not the one they were used to. “I thought some fresh air would do you good.”

As if her words gave him permission, he took a trembling inhale.

They sat in silence, not even a breeze to prompt the tree branches to dance or a bird’s song to interrupt the palpable quiet between them. “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “About Lisa.”

He visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’m sorry, too. About what happened to you.”

She pressed her lips together in a line, a pressure behind her eyes and in her chest threatening to spill out of her. She refrained from the urge, because the moment she opened that gate, she was afraid that she would never be able to close it again. “This is all so fucked up.”

He exhaled quickly out of his nose in a small smile. “Understatement of the year.” His hands curled in on themselves in tight fists, his eyes focusing down on his lap. “I was supposed to protect you, both of you, and I failed. I can’t… no matter how hard I try this shit keeps happening. I can’t stop it. Everyone around me gets hurt.”

“It isn’t you, Dean. None of us could stop it, any of it. It isn’t on you to keep the world from spinning out of control, you’re just one person.”

He rubbed his eyes, turning his face away. He was shutting her out, trying to keep it together.

“Hey, why don’t we fix this up for you,” she murmured, touching his arm where his shirt was seared to his skin from being out in the rain. “It looks like it hurts.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Seriously? We’re going to do that?”

“Do what?”

“The whole tough thing. It’s a load of horse shit, and you know it.”

He offered a wryly smile to her and nodded. “It ain’t. You know me, Em; I’m a tough son of a bitch.”

Her eyes narrowed on his, and she pressed her thumb into his wound, causing him to yelp out, his eyes immediately swelling with tears. “You were saying?”

“Damn, Em. That’s cold.” He wiped his eyes with his thumb, but he was smiling again.

“Wait here,” she instructed, before walking back to the Jeep. She opened the back door to grab the medical kit from her bag.

“Em?” Pheli asked, sleep heavy in her voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she assured her sister. “We just need a minute. I’m going to take care of his wounds.”

Pheli nodded and snuggled back into Sam. “Be careful.”

“Will do,” Em said softly, before heading back to Dean. She sat back down next to him and pulled out the medical kit from her bag, along with Pheli’s tweezers. “I feel sort of bad for teasing her about these now.” She pinched them at the air. “They’re actually useful.”

“Who would’ve known?”

Emerson stood up again, unlatching her belt, pulling it from its loops. Dean’s eyes settled at her waist, his face immediately flushing. “What’re you doin’, Em?”

Her eyes met his, and she smirked, pulling the belt all the way off. “Giving you something to bite on, this is going to hurt.” She placed the belt in his hand, their fingers brushing.

He placed the belt between his teeth and looked outward at the road.

Emerson went to work, but it was more extensive than she imagined. She had to tug and pull away at the already-healing flesh to remove the fabric that seemed to fuse with his skin. She would pause and look up at him to apologize, but he never complained. He’d been through it before, she reminded herself, when he was deployed.

She’d never forget the sight of his skin, oozing and blistered from beneath the metal contraption holding his damaged leg in place when he was in the hospital.

There were a lot of things in Emerson’s life that gave her nightmares. The sight of her mother’s wine bottle shattering on the floor in a thousand pieces, the sound of the vent as it breathed for her, Dean’s heart stopping under her head as she laid with him, the explosion in the distance as the world that she knew ended, Gordon’s hand over her mouth, and this. She knew that it would never end. They’d stack up until she either crumbled or couldn’t feel anything at all. She didn’t know which one was worse.

Dean winced under her fingers as she pulled a long piece of fabric away, fresh blood pooling in the burn. Her eyes stung. She had wasted so much fucking time, and now all they had was this. This fucking world of pain, and far and few moments of silence to recover before the next nightmare hit.

His breathing was ragged, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or the guilt that was weighing on his chest. She bit down on her tongue hard; trying to keep herself in check, because it wasn’t about her, it was about Dean. Fuck, for once it should be.

Growing up, there were so many moments that Emerson rested on her knees in church, in front of the crucifix and begged. She begged for help, asked for forgiveness, made promises, but it didn’t make a single second of difference. It was pointless, because no one was listening. Every moment that she thought was the worst moment of her life seemed like a joke as she poured rubbing alcohol on Dean’s arm to clean it. He did that to save her, to protect her. He’d always been that way, and she never appreciated it. She never appreciated him.

She applied the burn ointment and secured the bandage on his wound. “Done,” she murmured, standing up immediately. She turned away from him and wrapped her arms around herself, holding everything in. It was too damn much. All of the pain and loss was finally catching up with her. Everyone they knew was dead. The only people that they had was each other, and as he carefully wrapped his arms around her from behind, burying his face in her hair, she thought for the first time that maybe they’d be enough. She collapsed in his arms, his front pressed against her back, and she let out a pained sob, her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. She could feel wetness against the back of her neck as he held her up, his arms trembling.

Her back curved in, her head flopping forward as she screamed out, the pain in her heart overwhelming her entire being.

She tried not to spend her time thinking, before, what life would’ve been like if she’d made different choices, but there, in Dean’s arms, she had to wonder. Would they have always ended up there?

“This doesn’t last forever,” he commented quietly.

The song? She knew that, but somehow she didn’t think that was what he meant. “What doesn’t?”

“High school.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “I know.”

“It sucked for me, too.” He laughed breathlessly. “But it really is just a blink and it’s over.”

She knew that, but there was comfort in hearing it from someone who lived through it. From someone who wasn’t like Pheli, who often cried at the thought of high school ending.

“Not everyone is Sam and Ophelia,” Dean commented, as if he could read her mind.

“That’s the truth.” She pulled away to look at him. “Why aren’t you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… real?”

He shrugged. “When people think you’re one thing, sometimes it’s just easier to live up to it. I’d always rather be underestimated. Then you can surprise them, and you never let anyone down.”

Emerson pressed her lips together, she wanted to kiss him. Instead of talking herself out of it and focusing on all of the reasons she shouldn’t, she stood on her tip-toes and placed her lips to his.

She could’ve kissed him, that night, she could’ve done it a hundred times, at the river, on the roof, on the Ferris wheel.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I know we aren’t friends, Dean.”

“We aren’t?” He chuckled. “Then what are we, Maklen?”

She turned toward him. “Two people. If it weren’t for Sam and Phel we wouldn’t hang out. You know that.”

“You don’t think we would?”

She pushed her hair behind her ear, and looked up at him. she could see the reflection of the moon in his eyes. “You wouldn’t have looked at me twice.”

“You’re pretty blind, aren’t ya?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve always been lookin’ at ya, Em. I’d be an idiot not to.”

Dean looked at her, his eyes focused on her lips, and her heart raced. She didn’t want to say goodbye to him. She didn’t want him to leave, but instead of begging him not to go or saying something snarky, she leaned into him and brushed her lips against his softly.

She wanted so badly to go back and tell him everything that she felt the first time, but more than anything, she wanted things to be different now, and that was impossible. So she said nothing, she just sobbed until there was nothing left.

-35 Days After-

If Dean was being honest, he wasn’t sure when he’d slept last. He wouldn’t let anyone else drive the Jeep, and when they’d pull over to sleep, he would lay down and just stare blankly ahead. He couldn’t get the images out of his mind. They’d haunt him forever, he knew. He put Cas, Benny, Garth, Lisa, and Ben all in the same bag as he’d put Charlie. It was zipped up tightly, and fuck it was getting hard for him to lug around. It didn’t help that Emerson sat right on top. He would never forget the look on her face when she told her story. He was glad that Pheli wasted Gordon, because if she hadn’t, Dean would’ve, except he wouldn’t have been so kind about it.

They’d driven for days, siphoning gas along the way and trying to pilfer for what food they could find, but it was all starting to feel a little hopeless. They were driving aimlessly. Dean had no idea where they were headed or what the plan was all he knew was that he needed to get as far away from Dallas as he possibly could, away from the city and all of the memories that they were leaving behind there.

They were tired, tired of driving, tired of being cramped, and most of all they were tired of being afraid. Everyone was on edge as they drove in silence, every minute ticking by impossibly slow. “Dean,” Pheli whined from the back seat. “I have to pee. Can we stop? I saw a sign for a gas station.”

“You’re like a little kid,” he grumbled, cranky.

“No, I’m a lady, and I’d like to use an actual toilet instead of peeing in a ditch. Don’t like it? Sue me.”

“Fine. I can fill up gas while we’re at it.”

“That’s the spirit!” She exclaimed, just a little too cheery.

Dean pulled the Jeep over at the gas station, and the Maklen sisters made their way to the bathroom on the outside of the building, while Sam and Dean entered the gas station to look for the backup generator.

“Dean?” Sam asked as his brother fiddled with the lock on the office door. He grunted a response, not bothering to look back up at Sam. “Do you have a plan?”

He let out a sigh and the door clicked open. He pushed through, avoiding the question. “Bingo,” he mumbled, walking to the backup generator, firing it up. “Let there be light.”

“I just… Phel wants to know where we’re headed, hell; I want to know where we’re headed. We can’t just keep driving forever…”

Dean walked out of the office and behind the register so he could pump the gas. “Go ahead and grab a few extra gas cans. Then maybe we won’t have to stop as frequently. I don’t like leaving us so exposed.”

“Dean,” Sam said, placing his hand on his brother’s forearm. “Just stop for a second.”

“I can’t,” he said tightly, between gritted teeth. His heart hammered in his chest, and his vision blurred. He gripped the counter between his fingers to keep himself steady. “I can’t stop moving, Sammy. I can’t risk it.”

He thought about Emerson falling in his arms, cracking down the middle, and busting wide open. It was all too much. He knew how much he could handle, and he passed that line back in Afghanistan. Ever since then, he’d been running on fumes. It was the girls and Sammy that kept him afloat when all he wanted was to crumble. It would be so much easier if he could just turn to dust, but he knew that he couldn’t. He couldn’t let another person that he loved die. It just wasn’t an option.

“I know we keep hoping, well, I keep hoping that things will be different, like maybe if we keep driving that we will eventually hit a place that isn’t this.”

Dean closed his eyes tightly, nodding.

“It isn’t happening. I’m not saying we have to settle somewhere forever, but this is our life, at least for now. Don’t you want to live it? Aren’t you sick of running? What about Emerson? I know it’s glum, dude, but this may be the only chance we have. Maybe we should try to make the best of it.”

Sam’s fucking college attitude was giving Dean a headache. He was always the one with words of wisdom and advice. The worst part, though, was that he knew that Sam was right. That was the real kick in the ass, but how could he do that? How were they supposed to make a life during the end of the world?

“Dean?” Emerson asked, poking her head into the store. Her hair fell effortlessly down her shoulder and over her right eye, and she was smiling, despite everything. “Is everything okay?”

He waited so damn long for her to want him, that he almost forgot that it was a good thing. When he looked at her, he knew exactly how he could make a life in all of the bullshit, because when he was lying in the dirt in Afghanistan, he saw her face. Maybe it wasn’t about where they were, or what was going on outside of their little bubble. Maybe for once they would be enough. He offered her a smile. “Yeah, we’re good. We were just talking about where we should settle down for a while. Get off the road.”

His heart squeezed in his chest as he saw her eyes light up in front of him. “What’d you come up with?”

-40 Days After-

The idea came to the brothers in a moment of clarity, and Dean couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to him before.

John Winchester was a sorry son of a bitch, but he was prepared for an apocalypse. They had an old vacation home that he hadn’t been to since the boys were kids. It was secluded, and on the lake. It wasn’t much, but there were two stories of space to give them all the one on one time that they needed. The water was from a well, so they wouldn’t have to worry about contaminated water, and the climate was a lot cooler in the midst of the Summer.

They pulled up the dirt driveway to the cabin. It was old, and looked abandoned. The grass was red and growing upwards, just like everywhere else, but they had a push lawnmower, and Dean was determined to make this place fit for home.

“Wow,” Emerson said, breathless.

He parked the Jeep and Pheli leaped out of the car. “I call the biggest room!”

“What are you, five?” Sam asked with a laugh. It was good to see him smile.

Dean got out of the Jeep and leaned against the door, looking at the old house. The paint was peeling, but it was still standing strong. The cabin wasn’t what he pictured, when he thought about the kind of home he would settle in. When he asked Lisa to marry him, he thought about something in the suburbs with a two door garage and a man cave. The cabin didn’t exactly have good memories for him, but as Emerson came and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest, he thought that maybe they could make new memories that could erase the old ones.

His arms tightened around her. “What do you think?”

“I think,” she began softly, “that it feels really good to just be.”

“It does,” he agreed.

It was peaceful, and maybe before he could’ve left it at that, but he had a growing sick, heavy feeling in his gut that the quiet was a bad omen of danger to come.

—————

Chapter Twenty-Four

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nowitsdarkfic · 4 years

Text

chapter sixteen (the third hockey game)

December 20, 1988. Seattle, Washington.

It would be a whole three weeks before the four of us could group together and head on out to Seattle as a hockey team. On top of that, ever since we visited Brick in the hospital, we were slammed with some of the worst snow I had ever seen in my life: it was so bad, the four of us all got snowed in, stranded in Oswego for a whole two days. Marcia and Sonia were even lucky to leave Rochester for a little while and head on over to Buffalo for a day. And Lars and I still haven't had lunch with them yet. The good side of being stranded at home was I didn't have to leave the apartment for a full day, and then I was able to buy myself a pair of guards for the blades of my skates.

The more I think about it, the more I want to head on out there on an actual plane instead of crawling through a wormhole, especially since the wormholes move about places when we least expect them to. Between scrounging for plane tickets and my calling up places to see if we could play a game up there, as well as my calling up any place to record my songs. Lucky for us, Lars, Marcia, and Sonia all pitched in for us, as the two sisters themselves decided on flying out there to visit their parents and their good friend there in the cozy corner of Washington; meanwhile, I called my parents to assure them I would be home in time for Christmas.

I told Lars not to worry about heading down to Portland to tell his wife because we all know the story there at this point. He also told me that Kim and Hiro could find some studio space for me in the University District of downtown but I have my doubts given it's such a strange setting.

But on the other hand, I'm also open to it. I spent the whole flight nestled in between him and Spence with my hockey gear in my overnight bag right in front of my feet. I have my notepad tucked in the pocket of my big black overcoat. Nothing to see here. Just five guys going to play up in Seattle. We're not a professional team as much as we wish we were.

The other plus side is going to see Soundgarden themselves again, this time as the four guys we knew before and not the band with the soundscapes that fill a whole theater of some two thousand people. I assured Lars not to worry about finding skates to fit him to partake in his role as goalie. If nothing, he's going to be the ultimate badass with his own stick in one hand and his cane in the other.

We landed at the airport there in Seattle, right in the heart of the neon lights as they're still glimmering on in the wake of all the dense morning fog surrounding us. I'm leading the whole pack through the airport with my scarf around my neck, my leather gloves and chained boots on, and my mirrored sunglasses upon my face, like I'm the big Italian mob boss. Don't mess with me: I've got a sack full of blades and a hockey stick just waiting to come out if I get any looks.

There's just one foreseeable downside with all this and that's we actually have to compete with a team now.

Fine by me, as long as they don't try and intimidate us because I've got an album to record on top of everything else.

Marcia and Sonia meanwhile have the keys to our rental hydrogen cars, one for the two of them to head on up to a little town called Everett, and one for the five of us. Sonia pats me on the back as she hands me my key. I really don't know if she's telling the truth about calling Spence after the accident, but I also haven't heard a word from Dominique on the whole matter, either.

Anyways, if I recall correctly, this place is right near the heart of downtown so we'll get a good look of more than just the neon lights there. And there is a Denny's nearby, much to Barney and Billy's rejoicing. The hydrogen hum here is virtually silent; Lars is right next to me in the front seat with his mask already on over his face.

“Relax, dude,” Spence tells him from the backseat. “It's gonna be a bit before we start playing and even then we've got to warm up.”

“I think he's a little wary of all the neon here,” I suggest as we pull up to a stoplight.

“I really am,” Lars replies through gritted teeth.

“It's alright, it's just a little light. It's not gonna hurt ya.” But I peer out the windshield at some of the little buildings here in this part of town. Some otherwise small, nondescript shops, garages, and places that are perfectly fine otherwise but have these odd flat black screens on the front sides. They're odd because they seem to follow the outer corners, like they're wrapped around. And the buildings themselves almost look abandoned: we pass a leather shop which has the lights out even though it's still early in the day.

This fog meanwhile is growing thick and heavy over our heads with each passing intersection. I hope it's not too cold as we reach the intersection of the street leading over to the recording studio Soundgarden recorded Ultramega OK.

This part of town was not nearly as advanced back then when I first met Soundgarden as it is now. The buildings all look like they're made entirely of polished silver: even the Space Needle is looking extra shiny and clean and crisp at the moment, its blue and green neon as bright as a lighthouse. The glimmers of neon are in full swing here up on the rooftop gardens and over the awnings. Then I catch the sight of something small and shiny flying against the dense fog.

I think back to what Angeline told me about the drones. They make a sound that's below human hearing, such that it can cause paranoia. I think about the hydrogen car that we're riding in right now and I wonder if it's the case here, too. But then again, probably not. I feel fine.

But then there's Lars with the mask already over his face.

That one drone itself is floating over the heart of downtown Seattle, right where we're headed.

The light turns the brightest neon green I have ever seen in my life and we roll onward to the hockey rink.

Lars peers out the window at the heart of downtown and I catch glimpses every so often on my part. Everything is so smoothed out and polished: all the lights are suspended by those spindly white wires. The street itself is black and in need of those street cleaners.

I think about Maya, how she spent all that time here, running around the puddles and the blacktop with nothing more than her own mind. At least I think she did.

But that copy of After the Watershed was real. Surely she did. I touched that booklet. I felt it, I read it, I tucked it under my jacket to protect it from the rain, and I wound up losing the stupid thing after the accident. But there's too many sides to this story. I can only make a guess and right at the moment, I don't feel like taking a shot in the dark because I'm looking around for the hockey rink—

“Ah! Here we are.”

I spot the Denny's, nestled on the corner right across the street from the tall matte silver light posts surrounding a good sized outdoor hockey rink. I pull into the tiny sliver of pavement right near the entrance right as those light posts flicker on and bathe the ice in pure white light.

“Okay, so I just have to sit and make sure the puck doesn't get in?” Lars relays to me, still through gritted teeth.

“Exactly,” I reply as I kill the hydrogen engine. I don't think it goes off at first but I turn the key again, and yes, it's off. I climb out first to take in the cool dampness lacing throughout the corridors of Seattle; embedded in that dampness is the chill of cold metal and stone. I shiver and close my coat as I shut the door behind me. Barney, Billy, and Spence climb out of the backseat so we can fetch our things.

“I assume that's where we change?” Spence nods to the little shed to our right.

“Maybe?” I wonder aloud. I really have no idea. “It's worth a shot.”

Billy puts his arm around Lars so as to help him out and Spence takes off his gloves before following them over there.

“I've noticed something, Joey,” Barney starts as he closes the trunk lid.

“What's that?”

“There's no people.”

I glance around the block. Indeed, it's just us here. I didn't even see any passersby at any of the crosswalks. There weren't even any other cars on the other side of the street. I just saw the drone up in the sky and that was it.

“Yeah. On top of that, I haven't heard a bird or anything since we left the airport, and even then it was just the whir of the waters.”

“Oh, from the Puget Sound?”

“Yeah. It's weirdly quiet right now. But let's get changed, though—surely the team will be here any second now.” We head on over to the shed and step in through the door on the other side. There's a few wooden benches in here plus a single row of metal lockers that look very old. Billy and Spence have already changed into their jerseys while Lars is still trying to change out of his jeans. Poor guy.

He finally gets it once I open up my bag and take off my coat, my gloves, my scarf, and then my shirt. I put on my jersey, only to take off my boots and replace them with my skates.

As I'm lacing up, Spence calls me from outside.

“What's up, man?” I reply back once I straighten myself upright. He stands in the doorway with his hands resting on the edges of the door frame.

“The team's here,” he tells us, “but it's not what you think.”

“What do you mean it's not what we think?” Barney asks him. I put my gloves back on and pick up my mask before standing onto my feet; Lars stands up with his cane in hand and follows me out. I poke my head out to see a half dozen of narrow white human shaped things. Robots, I think. Everything about them is perfectly smooth and they're faceless, and they're so skinny they make me look overweight.

They shuffle about the pavement in total silence: their metallic feet don't even make a sound as they walk towards the rink. Spence glances back at me with a befuddled look upon his face.

“Who did you talk to when you said you wanted to play a game up here?” he asks me, his tone of voice unsure of where any of this is going.

“Some lady,” I reply to him. “An actual person. I forget her name but yeah. I sealed the deal with her and I thought for sure. What is this, some kind of gag?”

“I think not, Joey,” Lars tells me; I turn to see him pointing at the edge of the rink and the bots' feet narrowing and turning into something that resembles blades on skates.

“We better get to it,” Barney advises us.

“Yeah—” I turn my head even more so as to come within sight of the doorway to the shed. “Hey, Bill, you coming?”

“Yeah! Just need to get my laces secured—okay!” He emerges from the shed with his stick over his shoulder. I wonder how this is going to go as we pad over to the entrance of the rink and, once we remove the guards from the blades, we file onto the ice, one right after the other. I pass the shiny blue metal posts on our end of the rink and I make out the shiny green ones on the far side.

I've got my mask resting upon the crown of my head and my stick firmly in my leather gloved hand. I make my way over to the middle of the rink right as the one robot shows me a hand which morphed into the head of a hockey stick at some point. Gotta be brave. Surely this can't be that bad. Five guys versus five robots that look like a bunch of mannequins.

This can't be that bad.

It was in fact that bad.

Spence fell down so many times trying to catch the puck: probably two of those times right on his ass. Barney, the resident badass, lost patience with one that he deked twice and ended up high sticking and wound up in the penalty box. Billy, the well behaved one, also deked and almost hit me in the head. Poor Lars, the stand-in, could hardly keep the puck out of the goal posts. Meanwhile, I, the quick one, was about to hobble the captain on the other side because the son of a bitch was moving too fast that I could hardly catch up to it.

These damn bots are good. Too good in fact. It's like they were specifically made to beat humans at hockey.

The only time I did score was when Marcia and Sonia arrived and the former chucked a milkshake at one of the bots which allowed me to scoop up the little black puck. I pretty much sprinted down the rink with the puck right in front of me, and I was moving so fast that I hardly paid attention to where I was going. I leaned so far back that I almost fell on my hip shooting the puck into the goal posts and between that goalie's legs.

“YES!” I shouted, and that's when I fall right on my ass. The goalie sidles away from there, right around me to the other side of the rink.

Spence flies over to me with his hand outstretched for me. I climb onto my feet as if I'm on firm hard ground instead of ice. I strip off my mask, and rub my eyes and my nose with the back of my glove. I notice the robots are filing out of the rink.

“Is that game?” I ask him in a broken voice.

“It is,” he informs with a look of disappointment on his face. “What the fuck was that?”

“I'll tell you what the fuck was that,” I quip to him, “we bombed, that's what the fuck was that.”

“That was brutal,” Barney joins in from the side; he's out of breath and his face is flushed. This is probably the one time I've ever seen Barney truly exhausted.

“How's Lars, by the way?” I ask him, and he points down the rink to where Lars is laying flat on his back on the ice. Billy is approaching us from behind Barney: he, too, looks beat.

“He was working harder than I imagined,” he answers me.

“Oh, I don't believe this,” I scoff at that. I lead the three of them to the other side of the ice, where the robots have already left and Marcia and Sonia are congregated at the entrance huddled down in their coats. Once I come closer, I make out the look of agony on Lars' face.

“You alright?” I ask him, reaching out my hand for him to take.

“My knee,” he moans, “one of those—bloody machines—strained my knee so much. Oh—God dammit.”

I lift my gaze to the two girls at the entrance and I make my way over to them.

“Here, hold these.” I hand Marcia my stick and my mask before doubling back to the goal posts. I stoop down to pick him up: it's tricky doing so on ice but I managed to do it anyways. I hold Lars close to my chest as I make my way towards the entrance.

“Sonia—on the wall to your left is a pair of long grayish blocks. Those are the guards for my skates. Could you be a dear and help put those on for me please?”

“Yeah, sure—”

Still cradling Lars in my arms, I lift up one leg for her to put on the first one, followed by the other. And at that point, Lars is feeling rather heavy against my arms and I stagger over to the shed so as to set him down on one of the benches. I lay him flat on his back with his legs stretched to ease the pain on his knee. Breathing hard, I collapse right on the bench next to him. I give my curls a toss before proceeding to untie my skates. Sonia emerges in the doorway with Marcia right behind her.

“We were not expecting all that,” Sonia remarks to me.

“You're telling me!” I reply to her, taking off my gloves so I can better unlace my skates. “That last shot I did was one for the money, I know it.”

“We should tell you guys,” Marcia begins, poking her head over her sister's shoulder, “Chris and Matt told us that there's a little band playing just to the south of here tomorrow night that we think you boys'll really like.”

“How far south from here?” Lars asks her, lifting his head from the bench.

“Little town called Hoquiam,” she replies. “Not too far from here. They're called—Nirvana, I think is what Chris said.”

“They said they're like their little brothers,” Sonia adds.

“Sweet,” I tell them, unlacing my skates. “By the way, you ladies gonna join us over at Denny's?”

“We might as well,” says Sonia with a shrug. “We owe the two of you a lunch anyways.”

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vandalamagazine · 5 years

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After two very successful annual events, the classic rock extravaganza known as the Arroyo Seco Festival was put on hiatus this year. The two-day festival was a glamorous offshoot of the most prominent American music event, Coachella. While Coachella continues to cater to an ever-younger audience, Arroyo Seco was targeting a more mature audience. The event took place mainly on a golf course and public park adjacent to the Rose Bowl. On August 31, The iconic New Wave rockers, The Cure took over the same venue for a one-day celebration of music mostly from the Goth genre. The show was the brainchild of The Cure’s creator Robert Smith. He handpicked the nine opening acts for a unique line up of bands all with immense musical talent and original creativity.

The Saturday show took place on a blistering summer day with temperatures reaching near triple digits. The entrance to the festival was a struggle for some 25,000 music fans waiting in lines on the hot pavement of the parking lot for over an hour to pass through security checks. But once inside music fans were treated to a serene setting across the massive festival grounds, with grassy rolling hills. The Pasadena Daydream festival took advantage of two of the three-stage areas of Arroyo Seco festival, one a large tent and the other a large outdoor stage. Food and beverage vendors were stacked in strategic areas across the vast green fields. A pond with a water fountain stood at one end of the park. In the far corner, a cooling area with giant fans and misters helped beat the heat for fans lounging in soft inflatable furniture. The festival grounds were so immense that some concertgoers could barely see the stage from where they planted their blankets. Many concertgoers opted to take advantage of strategically cooler areas with groves of shady trees rather than be closer to the stages. But the majority of the crowd pressed closer to the two stages as the day wore on.

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The Scottish group, The Twilight Sad, was the first to take the outside Oaks stage. The post-punk/indie rock band has been producing original music for more than ten years. The band features lead singer James Graham, Andy MacFarlane on guitar, Johnny Docherty on bass, Brendan Smith on keyboards and Sebastien Schultz on drums. Graham seemed to be channeling the late Ian Curtis from Joy Division during his performance. The Goth punk band was well received by the early-bird crowd singed by the early afternoon sun. Unfornatanely most of their set was plagued by a failing PA system that kept cutting out. But the band soldiered on, and luckily the technical issues were solved by the time the next group, Mogwai took the stage.

Mogwai is also a Scottish band formed a decade earlier than The Twilight Sad, back in 1995. The band features lead singer and guitarist Stuart Braithwaite, Barry Burns on guitar, piano, synthesizer and backing vocals, Dominic Aitchison on bass and Martin Bulloch on drums. Braithwaite led the band in 45 minutes of compelling moody jam band material. The group ended their set with their 1997 classic jam song. “Mogwai Fear Satan.”

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Over on the Willow stage, a string of female vocalists brought a more demure, all be it Goth inspired, mood to the tented venue. The darker atmosphere seemed to fit the mood of many in the crowd in full Goth regalia, from thick black clothing to Kabuki style makeup. Kælan Mikla, a three-piece punk/no-wave band from Reykjavík Iceland, opened with a short, moody set. The group consists of three girls who perform their own poetry and have been described as an avant-garde, fresh breeze into the Icelandic music scene. The prodding Goth sound would be a good soundtrack for a Game of Thrones Episode. Emma Ruth Rundle, an American singer-songwriter, guitarist and visual artist based in Louisville, Kentucky, followed with another short, moody set, a bit more folk-inspired. Chelsea Joy Wolfe, an American singer-songwriter and musician, followed with another 30-minute set. The California native led her band blending elements of gothic rock, doom metal, and folk music into a crowd-pleasing cocktail.

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Over on the Oak stage, the most massive crowd of the day had gathered in the still scorching sun for a searing set of music by full metal rockers the Deftones. The aptly named California band is well known for its earsplitting manic live performances that incite mass stage diving and mosh pit madness. Singer Chino Moreno impishly whipped the crowd into a sweltering frenzy. Moreno whirled about the stage as the rest of the band played like madmen on ear-shattering tunes like “Knife Party” and “Hole in the Earth.” The Sacramento band was well received by the Southern California crowd that had swelled massively by the time the band ended their hour-long musical assault.

Two more great sets took place over in the Willows tent, featuring the Welsh band The Joy Formidable and the Rhode Island veteran rockers Throwing Muses. Unfortunately, most people in the vast audience missed their sets as they crowded the MainStage and didn’t want to lose their place.

Black Francis (Frank Black) has been leading the Boston based Pixies as an alternative band since 1986 with punk-inspired rock music that sounded like Grunge before Grunge rock was a musical genre. The singer guiltiest seemed to be reveling in the moment during his 75 minute set in Pasadena. As the massive crowd got a second wind in the setting sun, the band tore through some of their well known, classics eliciting an occasional sing-along. Songs like “Bone Machine,” and “Caribou,” inspired the sweaty crowd to respond emphatically. The bands cover of Jesus And Mary Chain’s ”Head On,” seemed to fit the festival perfectly.

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After the Pixies set no one left the front of the stage during the hour-long set change. Much of the crowd began to press in more tightly. A man frantically searched for his wife after he went to the restroom. A couple from Mexico city seemed to be lifted off their feet as they were swept forward in the crowd. “We are closer than we were in Columbia,” the man exclaimed. Everyone began to test cell phones to capture the moments. As massive smoke machines began to eclipse the stage in fog, a euphoria seemed to pass over the exhausted crowd. The band emerged eliciting screams from the crowd pushing ever closer to the stage. Then out of the thick fog, Robert Smith emerged onto the stage like a Gothic deity, and a thunderous roar echoed from the massive gathering.

The English band The Cure are probably best known for their string of New Wave hits in the ’80s, but the band was really on the forefront of the Gothic rock genre even before that. Charismatic lead singer and guitarist Robert Smith, the mastermind of the Cure, looks much the same at 60 as he did in the ’80s, resembling a Gothic Teddy Bear. The beloved singer thankfully has maintained surprisingly eloquent vocal skills throughout his career. While the band plays hit songs that is not what distinguishes their live shows from other groups in their genre. The band under Smith’s tutelage is first and foremost a jam band. The groups live performances are legendary, and they are simply the best live band of their musical genre. The two and a half-hour show in Pasadena was a relatively short one for the group known for their marathon performances. But they managed to squeeze a wealth of music including 27 songs, into the phenomenal set. The band can seemingly take a song in any direction they fancy on Smiths whim. The group can jam a song like the epic “ A Forest” for 30 minutes or more. But they can also play a perfunctory version like at the Santa Barbara Bowl in the last millennium. At that three hour-plus show the band performed past the venue’s curfew and played a mini two-minute version of “ A Forest” as their final encore before being cut off. The Pasadena show saw about an 8-minute version of the moody jam song.

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The current line up of the Cure features a powerhouse quartet of rockers backing up Smith. American guitarist Reeves Gabrels has played with the band since 2012. He was David Bowie’s former guitarist in the band Tin Machine. He brought relentless lead guitar riffs to the armada of jam songs. Animated bassist Simon Gallup has been bringing heart-thumping rhythms to the band on and off since 1979. Roger O’Donnell has played keyboards with the band on and off since 1987 and brought magical sounds to the Saturday show. Drummer Jason Cooper joined the group in 1995.

The Pasadena show followed the formula set in London by the band last year during their 40th Anniversary tour by playing most of their 1989 Disintegration album as the core of their show. The band opened with “Plainsong” before fading into a moody “Pictures of You.” Smith seemed to be enjoying the euphoric mood in the crowd. He would walk to the edges of the stage between songs smiling devilishly. The crowd would surge forward, chanting his name. The enchanting singer also played guitar frequently and even a penny whistle at one point. The band continued mixing deep cuts with some of their biggest hits including,

“High,” “Lovesong,” “In Between Days” and “Just Like Heaven.” Bassist Gallup shined on a moody jam of “Fascination Street.” Smith seemed especially giddy while belting out “Friday I’m in Love.” Spirited versions of “Close to Me” and “Why Can’t I Be You?” followed. An obviously elated Smith ended the set by saying, “It’s been the best day of the summer.” Then the band launched into a sing-along crowd-pleasing rendition of “Boys Don’t Cry.”

The Cure Brings a Festival of Goth to California After two very successful annual events, the classic rock extravaganza known as the Arroyo Seco Festival was put on hiatus this year.

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scentflame7 · 2 years

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The Between Psychedelic and Neo-Psychedelic Rock

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thetapelessworld · 3 years

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Spitfire Audio is proud to partner with world-famous Abbey Road Studios to present ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO

Spitfire Audio is proud to partner with world-famousAbbey Road Studios to present ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO

Spitfire Audio is proud to partner with world-famousAbbey Road Studios to present ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO — professionally recorded in the latter’s Studio Two, the legendary home of pop and rock ’n’ roll, to duly deliver the distinctive (slightly chorused, lacquered hammer-owing bright, metallic) sound of an iconic 1905-vintage Steinway Vertegrand upright, affectionately known throughout the decades by Abbey Road Studios engineers as the ‘Mrs Mills Piano’ (paying homage to British pianist Gladys Mills, whose popular music hall, singalong-style records were mostly recorded on this piano), made famous by the likes of Russ Conway, The Beatles, and The Zombies during the trailblazing Sixties pop era at Abbey Road, rendered accessible to the musical masses as a meticulously sampled creative coupling of iconic instrument and recording space presented in Spitfire Audio’s award-winning, easy-to-use, and affordable plug-in positioned as a lightweight (~4.6GB-sized) library with NKS (Native Kontrol Standard) compatible controls and no compromise on recording quality

Having successfully cemented a creative partnership with world-famous Abbey Road Studios late last year as ABBEY ROAD ONE: ORCHESTRAL FOUNDATIONSinaugurated its ABBEY ROAD ONE: FILM SCORING SELECTIONS series showcasing the foundational film scoring sound of Studio One by carefully capturing a full, symphony-sized (90-plus-piece) orchestra inside the world’s largest purpose-built recording studio, subsequently followed earlier this year by its attractively- priced ABBEY ROAD ONE: SPARKLING WOODWINDS and ABBEY ROAD ONE: LEGENDARY LOW STRINGS siblings inspired by classic films and offering pre- orchestrated themes to focus on accomplishing certain performance elements as a perfect fit for seamlessly working with(in) ABBEY ROAD ONE: ORCHESTRAL FOUNDATIONS or equally well on their own, ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO contrasts with the film scoring legacy of Studio One as an audible result of Spitfire Audio (ad)venturing into Studio Two. This is Abbey Road Studios’ most famous studio space, synonymous with producing some of the most popular pop and rock recordings of all time. As a versatile room that has changed very little since the Sixties, it has a warm acoustic that was originally tailored to accommodate smaller string sections and big bands — perfectly proportioned to suit the pop history-recording requirements of ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO, the latest aptly- named addition to Spitfire Audio’s ongoing series of inspiring sample libraries making rare and classic instruments accessible to all for just £29.00 GBP (inc. VAT)/ $29.00 USD/€29.00 EUR (inc. VAT) apiece.

Musically-speaking, ‘Mrs Mills Piano’ perfectly fits that rare and classic instrument bill. Built back in 1905, this Steinway Vertegrand upright has resided at Abbey Road Studios since 1931. Indeed, its distinctive sound owes much to Fifties-serving studio engineer Stuart Eltham, who sent it back to Steinway to achieve an older sound. Steinway’s solution? Hammers hardened with lacquer emulated the bright, slightly metallic tone of a tack piano with certain strings detuned to create a subtle chorus effect for facilitating that old-time bar-room sound, suited to cutting through any mix. It is still in use today, in fact, featuring on countless records and film scores, still affectionately known by Abbey Road Studios engineers as the ‘Mrs Mills Piano’ (paying homage to British pianist Gladys Mills, whose popular music hall, singalong-style, Sixties- and Seventies-released records were mostly recorded on this piano).It is perfectly possible to tailor Spitfire Audio’s meticulously sampled ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO plug-in namesake to suit a range of styles and genres — from pop through to jazz and into the realms of cinematic scores — thanks to its carefully curated range of signals, presets, and controls. Close — comprising a pair of Neumann U67 microphones for a crisp, defined sound — and Room — pairing omni condenser microphones to give a spacious image of the piano and the room — signal controls are joined by a Vintage signal capturing the classic Sixties-vintage Abbey Road recording chain — comprising the now extremely rare AKG D19c microphone placed above the strings in the middle of the piano, recorded using an all-valve Studer J37 tape machine (made famous by breakthrough multitrack recording of The Beatles’ Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album at Abbey Road in its one-inch four-track format configuration) via an EMI REDD.47 mic preamp — to authentically capture the iconic sound of Studio Two itself and, of course, character of the songs that made the piano famous in its own right. Furthermore, five presets range from close and clean to spacious and reverberant — namely, Close, a dry and upfront mix of the Close microphones with the mechanical sounds of the hammers and pedal; Clean, the Close and Room signals balanced for a controlled, yet spacious sound with minimal mechanical hammers and pedal noise; All Together, a blend of all three microphone signals, providing a versatile and characterful sound; 1968, recreating the celebrated sound of The Beatles classics with the Vintage signal; and Distant, the Room and Vintage signals with the REVERB turned up. Ultimately, six effects offer even more control with REVERB — representing one of Studio Two’s Fifties-vintage EMT 140 stereo plates with the decay set to 2.5 seconds; TIGHTNESS — cuts further into the note to make it tighter; HAMMERS — controls the volume of the piano’s hammers; and PEDAL — controls the volume of the sustain pedal noise; plus proprietary expression and dynamics controls for extra realism and detail.

Duly delivering the distinctive sound of a unique piece of Abbey Road-residing pop history housed in its inexpensive ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO plug-in namesake, Spitfire Audio has surely succeeded in its latest musical mission of making another rare and classic instrument accessible to all, wherever they may be and whoever they are. Ask Sir Paul McCartney... he should surely know as someone who has made musical history himself by making musical contact with ‘Mrs Mills’ on a notable number of occasions! ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO is available as an AAX-, AU-, VST2-, and VST3-compatible plug-in supporting Native Instruments’ NKS (Native Kontrol Standard) for Mac (OS X 10.10 or later) and Windows (7, 8, and 10 — latest Service Pack) that loads directly into any compatible DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) for an RRP (Recommended Retail Price) of only £29.00 GBP (inc. VAT)/$29.00 USD/€29.00 EUR (inc. VAT) — from here: https://www.spitfireaudio.com/originals/#mrs-mills-piano

Spitfire Audio’s namesake Spitfire Audio application allows anyone to buy now and download anytime, and is available for free from here: http://www.spitfireaudio.com/info/library-manager/

For more in-depth information, please visit Spitfire Audio’s ORIGINALS Frequently Asked Questions webpage here: https://www.spitfireaudio.com/info/faq/spitfire-originals/

Watch Spitfire Audio’s premiere of ORIGINALS MRS MILLS PIANO, putting on record the sound-specialising British music technology company’s (ad)venturing into Studio Two at London’s legendary Abbey Road Studios, as well as including its tantalising trailer video and an informative walkthrough video, here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9-3E9qLmiM

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#news #spitfireaudio #abbeyroad #piano #musicproduction #musicproducer #composer #vst #filmcomposer #gamecomposer #songwriter

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andrewrosswatson1987 · 5 years

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REVIEW: ARTIE ZIFF LIVE AT THE CELLAR; JULY 26, 2019

The Cellar’s one of the smallest live music venues in Aberdeen to greet the height of summer with. Last night, right in Aberdeen’s city centre, The Cellar hosted an intimate gig with varied sounds throughout the night. The aforementioned weather forecast like refuge from the searing heat outside, explaining the quite healthy turnout. There were four acts to pin your ears back for. Headliners Artie Ziff with Deadloss Superstar, Damon Tang and Ceramics in supporting slots.

Kicking off this gig were Ceramics, a hard rock four-piece from Aberdeen, “…who love making a racket.” They were seemingly harder edged indie rock, with beefed up angular riffs that sometimes traipsed into the realms of heavy metal. This especially so with occasional screamed vocal.

Next was Damon Tang, an alternative, pop and rock singer songwriter based in Leicester. He was sometimes wistful and despondent of strum. Pained and vulnerable vocal but never breaking or as if to lose control. Powerful in delivery without belting, bellowing out.

Main support act were five-piece local staple, Deadloss Superstar. Their influences the likes of Clutch, Queens Of The Stone Age, Red Fang, The Bronx, Mark Lanegan, Wildhearts, Backyard Babies, Supersuckers, Baby Chaos, Iggy And The Stooges, New York Dolls, MC5, Sleep, Electric Wizard, Faith No More, Deftones, Alice In Chains, Gun N’ Roses, Monster Magnet, Fugazi, Tool, Mclusky, Royal Blood, Slayer, Public Enemy and Wu-Tang Clan. The rock, alternative, punk and metal outfit are quoted as having, in the past, “...mutilated guitars, several fractured ribs, a handful of concussions, and - most magnificently - a ruptured testicle.” Not quite so these days, but still a sizeably intense performance, nonetheless. Like a bluesy, harmonica driven sort of heavy metal. Heavy metal sans the blues influence, too. Some tracks had a punky fervour. Overall, quite versatile, real energy plus set executed with aplomb. The venue was filling out to see these guys and also in anticipation of the headliner. Albeit a lot of these people were towards the back of the room, but this would soon change.

Headline act, Artie Ziff, were a rage indie trio from the Highlands and Islands who’ve moved to Glasgow. This being in pursuit of a career in music, playing their first gig as Artie Ziff in 2014. They visited Aberdeen as part of their July Highlands Tour with other dates in Elgin, Inverness and Forres. They’re comprised of vocalist and guitarist, Rion McKerron; bassist and vocalist, Alex Kenny; and drummer and vocalist, Max McKerron. The added dynamic of the first and last being brothers. They opened playing “The Game”. This was messy and despondent, marshalled by calculated drum. Plenty of kickass attitude. Drum and vocal refrain before wading in, again. Speeding up for a final flourish. Now the time to “Galvanise”. This was stop start, pondering next move. This before driving headlong into the song proper. Emphatic hit of drum. The latter the perfect mix of speed and power. Wayward guitar scintillating. “Never Too Far”, now. Swaggering dirty rock riff. Bass grooving and moody. Gritty but melodic, too. Pause for thought before doing something reckless. Then going all out. Trebly bass driving, bobbing and weaving; paring back before rallying, again. “Masquerade” opened with clean guitar, melodious. Rhythm section embellishing with bricks and mortar foundations. Then crashing all around. Sound seemingly reverberating, knocking a glass and mug from atop the bar. Riff getting choppy. What “If There’s A God”? This one fast and immediate. Powerful drums driving, unrelenting. Crashing cacophony somehow perfectly poised and eloquent. Raucous final flourish. “Are You Pleased”, they asked. This with sedate guitar with light, pattering drum gradually grew emboldened like will to please receding? Those gathered soaked in the subsequent instrumental. Moody and brooding, atmospheric. A journey into sound. A slice of something you might hear off Disintegration (1989) by The Cure. One guy dancing out front, loving it. More people out front. Guitar ascending and ascending, wailing into the afterlife and those pearly gates. The band, collectively, then told the amassed, “I’m Listening”. High octane, abrasive and scratching. The seeming theme all ears but no understanding becoming. “This is, by definitely, the hottest,” said Rion about the hothouse, stuffy environment of the venue. The band, in a loose sense, had listened, so it was time for the audience to respond in kind, shut up and “Drive”. This was more melodic musing than, say, driving punk kind of rocker. Refrain delicate before drums cuing almighty racket. Like multiple car crashes in its violence. Closer, “Houdini”, had wayward guitar, the soundtrack to a great escape gone wrong. Similarly then ringing out sparse and intermittent. Band, indeed, dripping with sweat as the suffocation clock counted down. Pregnant, awkward pause before resuming song proper.

Also visit their Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, Bandcamp, BigCartel and website pages to keep tabs on Artie Ziff.

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pretentiousrecordstoreguy · 7 years

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Andrew Wood - The Jesus Christ of Grunge

I worked at a record store for most of my college days. The pay was terrible, the customers had bad taste (for the most part), and the owner was always doing some untoward stuff that later resulted in his partner kicking him out of the business… but it may have been the best job I’ve ever had. Why was it the best job ever? Because my income was supplemented by an unending supply of promo CDs, first crack at all CDs being traded in by customers, and my name always happened to make it onto the guest list of two of the three big music venues in town. Plus my co-workers were a diverse group of equally music-obsessed nerds, punk rockers, hip-hop enthusiasts and an Anglophile manager who became one of my best friends. It was pretty epic, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Working in a record store also gave me special insight into crazy rabbit hole of music theory conspiracies. My buddy Ryan Shaw had this theory about Andrew Wood, the lead singer of Mother Love Bone and the first major heroin casualty of the grunge era. His theory was that Andrew Wood was the prophet that rock and roll was promised, that he would be overlooked and ridiculed in his own time, and then sentenced to death for the sins of rock and roll, only to be resurrected and live eternally through his disciples and their testimony.  

In other words, Andrew Wood was the Jesus Christ of Grunge who had to die for the sins of Hair Metal so that Rock and Roll could live on.  

SIDE NOTE: My buddy Ryan was an ordained minister who later became a trial lawyer, so that gives credence to the underpinning philosophy of the theory.

Much like B.C. and A.D., prior to Andrew Wood there was no “Alternative” but after his death we started living in the Alternative age. Grunge, Indie and Nu-Metal, Emo, and Alt-Country were all new gospels that were written in the aftermath of Andrew Wood’s passing... So if Andrew Wood was the Jesus Christ of Grunge, who were his apostles?

Stone Gossard as SIMON/PETER - The rock upon which the Temple of the Dog was built, literally. Stone Gossard is the through line for the Seattle sound and was ever present in its inception. From his time at Green River to Mother Love Bone to Temple of the Dog to Pearl Jam and then Brad, Gossard was the foundation stone. Without Stone Gossard, would there even be grunge? Stone is the rhythm (along with his brother Jeff Ament) from which the music is manifested. Gossard may never have been front and center in all of the bands he formed, but he spoke softly and carried a big axe.

Chris Cornell as JOHN - John was the disciple whom Jesus loved the most.  Chris was Andrew’s roommate and best friend. When Andrew overdosed, Chris was on a European tour with Soundgarden striking his own Jesus Christ pose. Chris was so grief stricken with the loss that he immediately wrote two songs “Say Hello 2 Heaven” and “Reach Down” about Wood. Chris showed them to Stone and Jeff, and Temple of the Dog was formed to honor their late friend. Chris would later hit mainstream success with Soundgarden and with Audioslave (which was just okay but waaaayyy to mellow for a band composed of members of Rage Against the Machine and Soundgarden). 

Jeff Ament as ANDREW (Simon/Peter’s brother) - Ament was right there with Stone in Green River, Mother Love Bone, Temple of the Dog and then Pearl Jam. He’s the bass that pulses the heartbeat of the music. Plus, his graphic design sense provided the classic look and feel of all the liner notes and album packaging for those bands (which along with flannel, long hair, and Doc Martens worn with shorts, were essential cornerstones of the era). Through Ames Bros. Design, Pearl Jam’s visual aesthetic was really set in stone and their tour posters became must-have’s for screen print enthusiasts everywhere. Music never looked so good. Eddie Vedder as JAMES, SON of ALPHAEUS - Some people say that James was literally Jesus’ little brother, while other’s interpret it metaphorically because upon dying Jesus said to James that Mary was now his mother, and James was now her son. Either way, Eddie Veddie was the younger brother of Andrew Wood who then took his mother’s hand and ushered in a new era of grunge. Eddie would tell you that he’s no fucking messiah, which is meant as a testament to the love he had for his brother. 

SIDE NOTE: I almost had Eddie as Paul/Saul, not one of the original 12 apostles, but one of the most steadfast and true disciples of Jesus whose writings to the Romans and to the Corinthians would help shape Christian philosophy for many centuries to come. As the lead singer and songwriter of Pearl Jam, you could make a case that Eddie is Paul, but I don’t think he’s gentile enough for that. He’s Eddie Vedder, and that’s an entirely different essay.

Kurt Cobain as SIMON THE CANAANITE or SIMON THE ZEALOT -  Simon the Zealot was known for strictly keeping the law of Moses (the Ten Commandments) and had great disregard for where he saw people headed. In Jesus, Simon found someone who was practicing what he preached. Simon would go on to evangelize the gospel in much of the west including throughout Egypt and into Africa. Kurt Cobain hated the mainstream and was a zealot when it came to grunge. He spread the word far and high and carried the tradition well.   Layne Staley as THADDEUS - Cool name. Cool band. When a jar of flies is kept for too long, the man in a box digs some dirt. Staley of Alice in Chains and Mad Season fame burned out too soon, but man was he cool.

Dave Grohl as MATTHEW/LEVI - Matthew/Levi was the tax collector who gave up his job and life to follow Jesus. He was the author of one of the gospels (Gospel of Matthew). Grohl was a drummer who later gave up that life to lead his own band, the Foo Fighters, who went on to become one of the biggest alternative bands (and David Letterman’s favorite band).   Kim Thyll as JAMES (brother of John) - James was John’s brother who followed him along and became an apostle. He had a moment of doubt when Jesus came back to life and doubted that it was really Jesus. Kim followed Chris Cornell into Soundgarden and preached the gospel upon a black hole sun. He later had many doubts when Chris left the band and stored to become a pop singer and then started Audioslave, which was terrible. Eventually, Soundgarden reformed and the word could go on being spread, one music hall, arena or outdoor festival at a time.

Jerry Cantrell as BARTHOLOMEW - Cool name. Cool band. Do the Bart, man! Mark Arm as PHILIP - Philip was an apostle, but he didn’t really matter. He was there at the start and probably did some stuff but you can’t really remember it. That’s kind of like Mark Arm and Mudhoney. He started Green River and recruited Stone Gossard to the band because he only wanted to sing instead of sing and play guitar. Then He formed Mudhoney. They had a moment for a slight minute but most people couldn’t tell them apart from Tad. How’s that for a Judgement Night? 

Courtney Love as MARY MAGDALENE - Go listen to Hole’s second record, Live Through This, and you’ll be asking Courtney if you could wash HER feet. From start to finish, that album is all killer and no filler, regardless of wether Kurt Cobain wrote it (allegedly) or not.  

Thurston Moore as JUDAS - Sonic Youth were grunge before grunge was a thing. They ushered in the alt-rock movement and were preaching the gospel way before it was cool. In another world, Thurston Moore would have been John the Baptist, but he blew up the band by betraying Kim Gordon, which caused the inevitable break up of one of the best bands ever. So, yeah. Thurston Moore is Judas.

Paul Westerberg as JOHN THE BAPTIST - He came first and helped lay the groundwork for the alternative movement. This could have easily gone to Michael Stipe of R.E.M., but The Replacements were much better and spawned a legion of followers. The Mats work in the 80s at Twin Tone and in Minneapolis would help to set up the dynamic that would take place in Seattle with Sub Pop. Westerberg couldn’t hardly wait…

With Pearl Jam having recently been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, now more than ever, we should give thanks and praise to the great Andrew Wood, the Captain Hi-Top, Love Commander (it is right to give him thanks and praise). For he so loved rock and roll and that he was forced to suffer, die and was buried for its sins so that rock could be reborn again. May he rest in peace today, knowing that his words still resonate with the masses.

So come bite the apple, my fellow star dog champions.

Hide your mom. Control your sister. Yeah.

Can I get a Hallelujah?

A reading from the Book of Stone

EDITOR’S NOTE: This post has been updated to correct two errors found within the text.

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taytayize123 · 7 years

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New Story! Hope you guy’s enjoy!

A Spark Can Lead To A Connection

Carrie looked at her two friends, Amy and Zoe, who were walking down the trash filled streets that stunk of alcohol and piss. What the hell were three newly 21-year-old girls doing walking in the seedy part of town at 11pm on a Friday night? Well, all of them were going to see a new band play at some bar. It was this band’s first American tour since they’re originally from London England. They were playing small clubs and dive bars since this was their first tour from across the pond. The girl’s had arrived just as the band was warming up on their instruments. When Carrie saw Jamie, the lead singer, turn around, she couldn't help but think that he had just came out of a Burberry magazine ad. He had blonde hair as golden as a pile of sun-kissed hay, eyes as blue as tropical island waters, and a jaw that looked like it could have been carved out of stone. Carrie was stunned by this man and longed to know more. Amy choose to go straight to the bar with her shiny new legal ID in hand to order some drinks for herself and her friends. While she was waiting, some old dude hit on her, slobbering the world’s worst pick up lines. All she could was roll her eyes and grab the drinks that were now ready. Then walked back to where Carrie and Zoe were standing and handed them their drinks. Zoe had this look of pure fear in her eyes. She had always been the most well-behaved in the group. When taking her first sip, it burned her throat and she almost gagged. As the first song of the set started up, Carrie’s ears were met with sounds of thumping drums, a pounding bass, and howling guitars. As Jamie sang a few verses, he clutched his bare chest, which was sprinkled with two tattoos one of which was a skull on his left and blood dripping heart with two butterflies one above the heart and one under on his right. Jamie fell to his knees as the club filled with silence. For about two minutes there was this haunting silence throughout the whole bar. Carrie was shocked as he hit the ground, still clutching his naked chest. She saw the look in his eyes go from amusement to the look of being unsure and a fog washed over him, turning those icy blue orbs Carrie was starting to fall for were now a cloudy blue-grey color. The premarket sexy smirk that formed on his plump pink lips when singing a suggestive song was long gone. Zoe, being the most responsible in the moment, started shouting at people to call 911. She had jumped on stage and started checking his pulse and if he had a concussion from hitting his head on his guitar amp. Luckily, Zoe was a pre-med student, so her mind went straight to how to save this man’s life. As for Amy, she stood there dumbfounded because she thought that Jamie was just being a crazy frontman of a rock band and did the drop as part of the shows performance. Finally, the paramedics had came and immediately put Jamie on the stretcher. While they were asking Zoe and Amy questions about what had happened, Carrie and Jamie made eye contact again, and, to her delight, he smiled at her then whispered something in one of the paramedics ear’s. Carrie saw the same paramedic walking up to her, telling her that Jamie had requested she come with him to the hospital. She agreed, climbing up into the ambulance. Immediately, she sat down next to him, only for him to clutch her hand out of comfort. At that moment in time, they both knew they had created a lifelong connection with each other. During the ride to the hospital, Carrie was very quiet as she nervously playing with the bottom of her shirt until Jamie said her name. She looked up only for her blue-green eyes to meet his perfectly clear blue ones, easing her nerves. Jamie started speaking. “Love, I’m sorry for scaring you. Isn’t there some myth about being in the front row of a rock show? You never know what’s going to happen.” Carrie giggled a little, knowing he was trying to lighten the mood. When he called her love, it made her insides flutter. She knew it was just how British people spoke, but it still made her feel special. Once they had arrived, the paramedics wheeled him into a waiting room where a doctor did some tests to see what would cause him to collapse. As both Jamie and Carrie sat awkwardly in the room, Carrie decided to start talking. “So, other than what happened tonight, how’s the tour going? Do you guys like America so far?” Jamie cleared his throat. “Yes, I do like America. Many of my favorite bands are American so it has been really fun to play in some of the bars and clubs they had gotten their start at such as The Roxy in Los Angeles or Bowery Ballroom in New York.” Carrie’s mouth dropped open with a shocked and excited grin on her face. “Oh my god! Those clubs are legendary! I’ve always dreamed of getting to go see a gig at The Roxy! The history in that place is just amazing, from Billy Idol, The Ramones, and where John Lennon wrote “Lost Weekend”. I’d kill to go there one day!” Carrie exclaimed, making Jamie’s face brighten. Listening to Carrie get so passionate about the roxy made his heart swell. He thought it was really cool to meet a girl who liked rock music as much as he did. He couldn't get over how refreshing it was compared to how past experiences went with other girls. He also had to admit it’s very sexy that her and I have the same taste in music. The doctor had walked in and looked Jamie over, discovering that he was dehydrated, not to mention he was drinking and that his body was exhausted. The fact that he was drinking only worsened the symptoms. The nurse handed him a shirt to throw on since he came in without one. He needed that, given it was a cold November night. He was told that he would need an IV to rehydrate his system, then he was free to go. It wasn't until about 1 am that Jamie and Carrie could leave the hospital. He could finally go back to the hotel he was staying at. As Jamie and Carrie wait for their rides, Jamie speaks, making Carrie look at him. “I’m in town till late tomorrow night, and I’d love to hang out with you in a much nicer chilled out setting. Plus, I would love to see the city more as well.” He suggests, smiling at Carrie. She smiles in response, taking Jamie’s phone to put her number into it before handing it back to him. Carrie hears a car horn go off, making her look around before spotting Zoe’s black land rover pulling up to the curb. She says goodbye to Jamie, receiving a hug from him as he thanked her for staying with him while he was in the hospital. Her senses filled with the sweet smell of smoke from a cigarette he had just lit as well as the scent of his Dior cologne. She couldn't help but feel intoxicated by the aruma. Carrie get’s into her friend's car, excitedly telling her friends every detail of the rest of her night. Once she got back to her house, she decided to take a steamy hot shower. It wasn't until 2:30am when she climbed into bed, hearing her phone buzz on the bedside table. Turning over, she couldn't help but be surprised to see a message from Jamie. “Message Received: (Jamie)- Just wanted to say I can’t wait for tomorrow. Wishing beautiful dreams to a beautiful girl :)” “Message Sent: (Carrie)- Thank you! That was very sweet thing to say. I can’t wait as well goodnight!” The next day, Carrie was elated that it turned out to be a beautiful day. The sun was shining, yet it was very chilly outside. Carrie decided to wear black skinny jeans, a blush colored sweater, a leather jacket all paired with black tall riding boots. She drove to the hotel that Jamie was staying at, pulled up to where he was standing. He was in black skinny jeans, a ripped and faded Led Zeppelin band tee, and a jean jacket. His accessories included a grey beanie, a nose ring and a vintage metal ring. He got in the car, shut the door and buckled up before Carrie started driving. She decided that since they both shared such a strong love for music, she should take him to her favorite record shop in downtown Portland, Music Millennium. As she opened the door, he followed after her. She couldn't help but smile at how amazed Jamie was at the sight of the store. Records were wall to wall, filled with every record from every band you could name. Posters hung from the ceiling, some of which included Bob Dylan, KISS, and Motley Crue. Carried smiled and waved at the two older men working the cash registers. They had known her for a solid four or five years now since she found this cosmic hideout from all things that sucked in life such as Family Issues, A sucky student job, and Endless amounts of term papers. Jamie started going through a box of records that was sitting along the wall so Carrie sat down next to him, starting in on her own box of records, just in case she wanted to add to her collection of Vinyls. Nothing sounded as magical as vinyl does because it’s like sitting in on a recording session: one could hear every grunt, breath, and note. It’s very personal to share vinyl with somebody. Carrie looked over at Jamie, who was holding up in perfect condition a Appetite For Destruction album by Guns N Roses. Carrie couldn't help but think back to when that album was what got her through her high school years when she felt like a total misfit within the hierarchy of the high school food chain. He handed the album to Carrie. As he did it, his hand brushed against her arm and she flinched and pulled her arm away. Carried looked back up at Jamie’s face, gulping as she realized she had to explain why she pulled away. “Sorry I know that was weird. People touching me just brings up some difficult memories.” Carried shyly looked down at the 70’s colored carpet. Jamie responded, “Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to it was just an accident. I wasn’t paying attention.” Carrie instantly felt horrible for making the sweetest guy she had ever met feel guilty about touching her. Once again, her anxiety was kicking her ass. She knew she had to explain why a simple touch turned a fun loving girl into a scared, timid mess of a girl. With a deep breath she started to explain. “In high school, I had a boyfriend my junior year who was the total opposite of myself. He was popular, a two sport athlete, and very well-liked by students and teachers. About four months after we got together, I noticed he had very bad anger issues. He’d snap and turn into a horrific monster. The smallest argument would throw him into a rage. He would ask me where I wanted to eat, for example, and when I said I didn’t know and ask him what he felt like having. He’d begin yelling at me, telling me that I was a no good worthless bitch and that I was lucky that he even gave me the time of day. I swear to god that he called me every name in the book from whore, slut, bitch, and even the c word once. That was the first time he physically grabbed me by the arm so tight he left huge bruises on my body. It had happened four more times before I couldn’t take it anymore and told my best friend who then got me the help I needed to escape that abusive downward spiral of a relationship I was in. I can even remember the last thing I said to him. I told him I hated him as hot tears welled up in my eyes.” As soon as Carrie stopped speaking, Jamie engulfed her into a tight hug, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. He then released her from his comforting and warm embrace and cupped her face, which was now tear stained. He said; “Don’t ever think for one minute that you are worthless, because, trust me, only knowing you for twenty four hours, I know that you are an empathic, passionate, creative soul, who I find very interesting and attractive. I find you so beautiful, Carrie,” He breathed, looking down at his left hand at the vintage ring on his finger. He remembered when he got it: a fashion shop in the Oxford Circus area in London, known for their retail stores. In that moment, he decided to pull it off his finger, only to slip it on Carrie’s finger, telling her that he wanted her to be his girlfriend, even though he left that night to go onto the next tour stop. He assured her that they would make it work, even if they were across an ocean from each other. This would just be until Carrie could finish her degree and move to England to be with him. He knew this girl was the one for him.

#original content

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futilism-blog · 7 years

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music that is nice goin in and out my ear canals - it’s good kid

more shit i liked throughout 2017. mostly new stuff?

slowdive "star roving": i love slowdive but it's kinda funny how the drums n stuff sound so... similar to everything going on right now. kinda meh. in a production sense. the middle of the title track where it's just squiggly synths, voice, and guitar is amazing. agree with some guy on youtube saying this weirdly sounds like their early stuff. pygmalion is my favorite though and i hope there's some stuff akin to that coming up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?

slowdive "so tired" i'm listening to this now because that track reminded me that slowdive is so good, thanks slowdive

slowdive "dagger" i love you slowdive

chavez - the cockfighters: was excited for this because i am a BIG FAN. "memorize this face" is one of my favorite songs. i gotta listen to this more maybe. "the bully boys" has cool guitar interplay but it also sounds like something on the clerks soundtrack. which is a good and bad thing? sounds like something "the boys put together for the heck of it".

exit someone - dry your eyes: haha they tagged it as soft pop. welcome to the singularity techfuture. it's now. it's real. basically this is real pleasant sounding steely dan chords and smooth jazz saxophone done pretty straightforward. i'm having an amazing fantasy imagining the target audience for this but hell. i like it. "rhythmically the TR-505 drum machine is featured exclusively as an exercise of reiterating patterns to highlight the storytelling" is an amazing way to say that programming drums is tedious. i'm a fan but i'm not sure if i played this at a party whether people would jive with it or if it'd be like a "what are you playing this for" kinda reaction. joan of arc - he's got the whole shitty annoying wordplay that's really long: i like repetition and songs that start with the line "oh fuck off" so i like this. and that's basically this entire album. bleep bloops and loops. they take a beat, a line, and some bleeps and repeat it with all these little things going on over it. scool. uniform - wake in fright: some snarling brit guy over noisy industrial stuff. neat. they're from new york? wha? but the man - he sounds like a brit. their bandcamp namedrops big black and slayer and that's funny because you guessed it, those were the two things i thought of. pretty fucking cool. i feel some confusion is sex sometimes too -- and not just in this album understand me. i feel like i'm gonna listen to this a lot this year and not just in this album understand? baxter stockman "male talent": cool n clangy. howling mad sounding man hollerin all over the place over this drum beat that basically gallops the whole damn time. reminds me of watching wheels spin. pretty cool but iono. i really want another twin stumps so bad. doon kanda - heart: saaaaaaaaaaaay! i haven't listened to something from hyperdub in so long. this guy's favorite song by the evens must be "warble factor!!" because there sure are a lot of "warbly" synths going on here!!!!!!! very ... 'classical' sounding chord progressions that makes this feel kind of symphonic and dramatic but nostalgic. LIKE ANIME. the last track is real spooky and glitchy and seems to indicate the next step this guy's gonna take. and i'm pretty stoked on it. the dude’s visual art is also so so good. the xx - on hold: it's kinda cool sometimes? it's really pretty, relaxed, and disjointed with the cut up samples popping up here and there. and other times it sounds like something that would play during the dramatic parts of an ep of CSI. haven't listened to the xx in so long but didn't they used to be WHISPER QUIET with guitar stuff..? iono. not my favorite but not awful. jesus & mary chain "amputation" single: i love the album darklands so much. heck, i even play stoned & dethroned all the time. that's a lazy day jam kinda thing. and now the JAMC is back baby!!!! they've got an album cover that looks like alphabet soup!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! whoa. so this song has a chill lil drum machine thing going on and a kind of fuzzy guitar that's nice. AND falsetto "ooohs". what's not to like? probably the fact that it's no great shakes and not terribly interesting. not bad though. something i can see playing at a record store that i could tune out. william basinski - a shadow in time: love it. i'm too big of an idiot to be able to eloquently describe how "real" and "authentic" music "sounds" that isn't stupid pop or noise. but aside from my BIG FANDOM of everything basinski does, this one is an engaging listen start to finish. would recommend to a newcomer. one of my favorite sounds is an orchestra warming up and this kind of has the same feeling to it - like it's standing on the edge of something bigger. continually shifts from really warm and sentimental to ominous and disquieting. kind of mirrors how i feel about death which is fitting considering that i think about death all the time. code orange - forever: i feel like people hated this album WAY MORE than they really did, but it's far from my favorite thing they've done. i'm always biased towards bands trying new approaches and making the sounds more of their own thing and this is definitely that kinda deal. it's so over the top and when i heard "THIS IS REAL NOW MOTHERFUCKER" i got a really big smile that was only like 9% irony so i guess ultimately i liked this album. something i can appreciate even if it's not something i'll be going back to much. obasquiat - #moebius: you guys like free jazz!?!?!?! I DO. the track "vanikoro" alone pushed me in to 'love' territory. super spacey and enveloping building up into complete chaos. some mind bending shit on here. reminds me of the pop group if you took a pop group song and stretched it out until all of its ligaments and musculature was ripped apart and spaced out (even more so?). gets weirdly metal in a way at times that i dig, but not as much as i dig the last track being some weird bossa thing out of nowhere. stabscotch - uncanny valley: jesus fucking christ. this is all over the fucking place. i guess i will call it post punk but there's dub, metal, surf, noise, and a bunch of other insane shit happening on this. plus i like that the vocalist has a real 'normal guy' voice so it's kind of funny when he's hollerin or shrieking shit. lots familiar about this but the sum is something i've never heard before. amazing. i like that the overall mood vocally is pissed off throughout too. something that i'll listen to a lot but maybe not all at once. really removed from a reference point like stretchheads or something, which makes a pretty disorienting first listen. will be hard to top this as the most original thing i’ve heard all year. pseudonym - pack of lies: laughed after the first track started playing because this immediately followed my listen of that stabscotch album. really lovely but samey pop music that is a joy to listen to ultimately. even if the album goes on a little too long. makes me feel the same way velocity girl makes me feel. that's a good ass feel. jim o'rourke - steamroom 31: same deal trying to describe this that i have with basinski. jim o'rourke is one of my favorite guitarists/musicians ever, and the sole (soul?) reason why sonic youth got even more amazing. SYR3 ftw. this is a drone album that carefully changes moods throughout in a way that's extremely affecting. builds to a pretty glorious noise barrage that makes its presence felt throughout the rest of the album.

ok thassall for now. peace.

#2017 #2017 music #music that i have listened to #music #good ass music #do you like music too #i like it too much

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doomedandstoned · 3 years

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Discarded Self Cooks Up a Simmering Stew of Dread in Foreboding Debut LP

~By Billy Goate~

Album Art by Thahir M

Flooding forth with misery and hate comes the first album from Discarded Self... Created during a time of personal isolation, the album ranges from tales of the macabre to introspective trips into self-loathing and personal degradation that dredge up terrible memories of the past to drown in personal regret. There is no hope for the future here.

Thus speaks the introduction to this self-titled debut from DISCARDED SELF, the brainchild of one Jarret Beach. Nestled on the border of Alberta and Saskatchewan in the small city of Lloydminster, Jarret has been jamming on bass with Ashes of Yggdrasil and fronting Destroy My Brains on vocals and guitar since at least 2014. It was the pandemic that drove him inward and inspired him to write this harrowing opus -- an album that erupts with pitch black sentiment, exploring unhappiness, hardship, and distress through several different lenses.

"I Smell Pipes" sets the record in motion with devilish growls over a searing guitar lead. The song becomes increasingly emotional with dissonant harmonies. Whether intentional or not, the drums sound muted, giving it a dank, low-fi feel throughout. The emphasis seems solidly on the riffage, which is all fine by me, though some listeners may wish for a more spacious approach. For full effect, turn those speakers up high!

"Orbitoclast" follows next with a strumming opening and jarring amp feedback. When the vocals join, it's a sludge moshfest ala Iron Monkey and Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean. The guitar is clear, dark, and menacing, and it contrasts with the harsh singing effectively. There are burts of frenetic grinding, with fevered drumming from Joaden Paluck (Destroy My Brains, Wrought) joining Jarret's fire and brimstone riffing. The song ends with clip addressing depression and the danger of suicide, from some old training video in a rather clinical tone.

"Push The Knife" is the longest track of the album, opening with death-soaked drumming (this time with Brett Steward from Ashes of Yggdrasil on the skins) and solemn doom chords that become increasingly animated, finally spilling over in a torrent of blackened tremeloes. The instruments pause long enough for Jarret to proclaim, "I'm barely being held together...fuck this life." The lyrics contemplate the misery of one's existence and the utter despair of realizing: I could really end it all. Having been there, I can identify with practically every word of this song. Also, I'm picking up on a Buzzov*en vibe here, with Jarret's raspy, metallic vocals drawing us into the hardship of the subject quite well. It's as though the pain of depression has gradually worn away at his person, transforming him into this savage beast before us. The sonic mix on this track does a decent job of accommodating the swirling array of death, doom, and black metal styles without sounding too thin and distant.

"On The Unlevel" is another 10-minute monster, with death-obsessed lyrics (this time, it seems, from the perspective of the oppressor). It takes on the mess of politics and policing, though at times I had trouble distinguishing between rage against the system and actually taking revenge on one's enemies. In some sections, I'm reminded of Eyehategod and their propensity for simple, melodic guitar motifs. The drums are especially pronounced here, a collaboration with Daden Paluk (Destroy My Brains). About 7-minutes in, a solitary bass announces the fiery coda, which grinds down on the words "This is what you get, greedy piece of shit." There are some maniacal screams mingling in the backdrop that made me think of a human being who's finally snapped and will no longer be trodden over.

"I'm Weak" is my favorite of the record, beginning as it does with those grim downward steps, followed by irradiated crooning grungy milling. The song is about living with guilt, shame, anxiety, and self-loathing while in isolation. For many of us, nothing felt more like solitary confinement than those unending weeks in lockdown, which forced some to come face to face with what they hated most about themselves. "I'm not well, in my cell, in my tomb, crying for doom" Jarret sings. A headbanger for damned sure.

"Cultist of the Pentagram" wisely picks up the pace with a tonal shift from self-pity towards an imagined deity from some dark dimensions, perhaps Cacus of Roman Mythology ("I am your Caco god"), who was said to be the fire-breathing son of Vulcan -- and a giant at that (eventually taken down by Hercules). Regardless of the cultist's identity, it is a most interesting lyrical theme and I found myself easily pulled into the narrative. Musically, this pure sludgey, grindcore!

"Abused (e)Motionless" turns our attention to the victim of treachery, attempting to see the word through their eyes. An interesting mix of circular, grinding guitar and drums, with slow, doomy progressions, and venomous vocals (which remain omnipresent throughout).

Finally, we arrive at the conclusion of this stormy, angst-filled journey. "Dance Upon The Dead" established a gentle arpeggiated acoustic theme, which is frequently interrupted by a crashing guitar and drum combos, until vocals join in with their usual corrosive fashion. This time, we're dealing with a true doomer, full of mordant chords and deep, emphatic bass notes. Jaden is up once again for drumming duties and executes his role with taste and tact. The song develops with increasing variation and intensity as it goes along. I thought of Grief as I listened, a band that also traffics in fierce, hot-blooded, sludgey doom action.

No doubt, Discarded Self is an enormous work and may be taken in doses on first spin. It will mean even more to the suffering, as I can imagine it being quite a cathartic listen for those who feel trapped, maligned, and in dire straits. Overall, a welcome entry from a prolific and highly motivated artist who does an admirable job collaborating with his drumming compadres. I can only imagine the beast that Discarded Self will become when the Lockdown is lifted for good and public performances become a viable option in Canada and places beyond.

Give ear...

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

An Interview with Discarded Self

By Billy Goate

How would you describe the vocal approach to the songs on this record?

After recording the guitars and bass to a programmed click track, I soon realized the song arrangements had some real potential to be something aggressive and memorable so I went for my first run of lyrics on a song. I wrote the lyrics for the song "I'm Weak" before I even had any drums (which is something I almost never do) and I wanted to record them since I was really feeling the flow and ideas I had for delivery, but it was too late at night and everyone in my house was asleep. So I decided to do a little practice vocal run in a quiet voice. When I do metal vocals in a quiet voice for practicing and stuff, I use kind of an evil Satyricon-Dopethrone black metal kind of voice. It's easier on my throat than my normal hardcore Destroy My Brains full blast screaming, and it helps me lay down my ideas without any type of voice damage.

You collaborated with a number of drummers on this release. How did you work in tandem with them during the Great Lockdown of 2020 and what impact did it have on the final outcome of your tracks?

After I recorded my idea, I sent the track to the drummer of the track Rob, and he said he really dug it. I told him those weren't the real vocals and I would do the real ones in a day or two after I practiced them a bunch and got my delivery down. But when the time came to lay it all down, I had the practice voice stuck in my head and when I tried to lay down my normal vocals, it sounded weird because I was already used to the way the black metal style vocals sounded. So I decided to give what was once my quiet practicing voice a try, and record the full song in that style. It blew me away when I was all done, so I decided to change up my idea and use this vocal style for the whole album. I really like it.

Talk about the artwork. It's a tremendous piece! Really stands out.

After that it was time to go on the hunt for some artwork. Almost as soon as I started looking, an artist I follow, Thahir M, put up a piece called "Monster Hunt" and I immediately knew that was the artwork I needed to represent the project. A very powerful giant demon with dragons flying above almost like a World War II photograph with the fighter planes littering the sky. It took me about a second and a half to rapidly fire him an offer on the art before someone else snatched it. That is where the album art came from. I actually used this art as inspiration while I was recording almost all of the vocals on this album. As I recorded them I would stare at the image of the art and try to imagine I was a demon soldier in that army. I already had the lyrics memorized, so I didn't need to read them as I recorded them.

I'd venture to guess that a lot of us assume one-man bands are just wunderkinds, you know, born with all this multi-instrumental talent. Were there areas you found particularly challenging for you as you sought to bring your vision to life?

I am not a drummer. I suck real bad, and I probably won't ever practice enough to ever record anything so I needed some drummers. I had this idea of using all of the best metal drummers in my city, and it would kind of help bring the scene together a little bit. 3 of the drummers I wanted to get, I was already in bands with, so that was easy, and the last drummer was a guy with some serious skills and creative talent, plus he had his own drum recording setup.

I ended up getting all the guys I wanted on the project which were, Jadan of Destroy My Brains, Rob the drummer of Ashes of Yggdrasil, Brett the lead guitarist of Ashes of Yggdrasil (who also plays drums), and BJ from the band Dahlmers Realm. I couldn't really be more happy about it. So every time I would finish my guitars on a track I would send them off to the guys with a click, and let them stew on ideas. Slowly the ideas came in and we got them all recorded. I was really impressed with what the guys came up with and we worked and tweaked the ideas until they all felt perfect.

It sounds like a very meticulous process!

Almost every time I got the final drums and guitars all together I would stay up for days with almost no sleep writing lyrics furiously, and perfecting my delivery for the songs. The last song Dance Upon the Dead, I actually stayed awake for about 30hrs, writing and recording. I even blew my voice out real bad, but I have a real stupid and bad habit of fighting through it and I finished the song with a pretty buggered up voice. (it just adds to the torment).

What's the benefit to writing metal as an independent musician-composer, compared with being in a band?

The best part of this project was I did it all in my studio at home, and I didn't have to change any of my mixing ideas because other band members did not like it (not that that is a bad thing having extra input or anything). So this album turned out 100% how I wanted it to sound. I went with a less is more approach, and didn't really do a lot of processing on the instruments to get the sounds I ended up with.

You initially were sharing songs as you created them. What kind of response did you get from your tracks early on?

As I completed songs, I would release them on Bandcamp and YouTube, and I set a goal to have one completed every two weeks until the release date I set, which was Jan 15th, I believe. The day I released "Orbitoclast," is where everything changed and I started receiving a ton of positive feedback. "Orbitoclast" was only the second song released, so I was really getting excited to pump this project out.

I was only about two or three weeks away from my release date when I was contacted by Piers Andersen from Cvlt Legion, and he said he is starting a record label called Sarcophagus Recordings and he asked if I wanted to be his first band. I didn't even need to think about it, because I knew he was a part of Cvlt Legion and those guys promote bands at a ridiculous rate, so I went for it. He wasted no time and he had me pull all my material down from Bandcamp and YouTube, so he could properly promote the album. We changed the date to April 30th, and he went to work promoting the album. He is good, he's had me on more sites and pages than I even knew existed, and we've even done a pile of interviews which I enjoy doing.

What did you learn from diving headfirst into such an ambitious first record?

All and all, this project taught me a lot, and I do believe I have further evolved my songwriting and recording techniques for the better, so it was a real good experience, and I've also learned more about the promotional side of music which is really important if you want anyone to hear your stuff. I hope everyone enjoys this album, and you can expect to hear another album from this project in the future as I'm already at six rhythm sections written for another album.

Let's close by getting into the specific breakdown of the album's songs.

1. I Smell Pipes

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

The opening track of the album is actually written about a close friend I used to have when I was younger. It is describing a short chapter of his life, which in turn was the end of his life. He was a good friend but became a fiending drug addict "I Smell Pipes" was actually a quote he used to say when he would arrive at a party, and it signaled for all of the other crackhead/jib users to go into a room a light up rock and crystal all night. What started off as what he called fun recreational drug use, turned into full on lying, cheating, stealing, robbing, rock bottom living on the streets drug use. He passed away with a needle in his arm banging speedballs.

I wrote the song with more fun style riffs, because that was the last thing I remember about him before he disappeared and wound up succumbing to his chemical addictions. He used to be a fun guy. Hard drugs are no joke, there are only two ways it will go for you, if you want to live that kind of life. The lucky ones go to jail and sober up. The unlucky ones die, or live a long time as a worthless drug fiend. If you are having trouble with addictions, talk to someone and seek help. The alternative is more than most likely going to be a coffin. I wrote this song with a heavy heart, and it was really hard to record the lyrics.

2. Orbitoclast

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

The song "Orbitoclast" is a collection of riffs and vocal ideas I actually started this project with. It starts off slow, but gets straight down to it with a thrashy section that has shredding vocals bleeding all over it. For those that aren’t aware, an orbitoclast is the instrument that is hammered into a person’s brain, when they were the poor individual who received a lobotomy in the late '40s early '50s. The song is of course about the horrifying practice of lobotomy, but has an extra hidden meaning. It’s a metaphor for giving your trust to someone who doesn’t have your best interests in mind, and only their own personal interest, with no concern of who they damage along the way.

3. Push The Knife

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

"Push The Knife" is a slow moving look into the mind of someone who is sick with depression and touches on the topics of suicide/blood sacrifice. How it feels like you don’t want to exist in society, and you want to disappear and be forgotten. The song was originally titled "Staple", and is essentially about barely holding your life together like a “bent staple with one arm” as the lyrics suggest. The song takes a horrible turn as the protagonist of the story performs a blood sacrifice of themselves in an attempt to become a demon, and seek revenge upon the whole world who has wronged them throughout their life, joining Satan's and executing revenge upon the world. This song features Ashes Of Yggdrasil’s lead guitarist Brett on the drums, and backup vocals as well.

4. On The Unlevel

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

This song is my hate-fueled message to the government and other forces of oppression and control. I wrote this whole album in 2020, and being the naturally rebellious person that I am, the government control, restrictions, and lockdowns are not anything I ever pictured happening in my life and the damage they have caused to our society is mindblowing. If you feel the same as me, I strongly suggest looking up the lyrics to this song to understand the anger seething from within me when I was writing this. "On The Unlevel" is an attack against oppression, control, racism, division, and lies. Things can’t continue like this, and everyone needs to work together to repair all of the damage, and seriously think about the crucial changes that need to be made in our world if we are ever going to see it the same way it was, or better than it was. This is a true rebellion song of 2020.

5. I’m Weak

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

"I’m Weak" is an ode to all those who are born into this world as a person with crippling disabilities, mental health problems, or sub-par lesser functioning beings, that are unable to accomplish anything in life, and the feelings that are often associated with that, which are often followed by self doubt, self loathing, low personal esteem, drug abuse and suicide. "I’m Weak" is a tribute to a close friend who lived with all of the above named issues, and is no longer a part of this plane of existence. They will remain unnamed. This song embodies what the band name Discarded Self is all about.

6. Cultist Of The Pentagram

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

The track "Cultist Of The Pentagram" is about those who follow the rebel and master Satan, and their efforts to complete Satan’s work, in destroying God and his followers. This song is a complete assault on the world’s organized religions, and their slaughters and atrocities committed against their fellow men, women and children of earth, in the name of their so-called God. The true liar and evil presence that plagues our realm we exist in.

7. Abused (e)Motionless

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

This song was another personal and painful song to write. It is about the many forms of abuse from a loved or trusted person. The damage and trauma caused is generally irreversible, unforgettable, and leads to all sorts of problems throughout the person who was abused. It is a deep look into the person’s mind, and how fucked up they can become from it. If you or someone you know is being abused, be brave and get out of that situation. Reach out, someone will be there to help.

8. Dance Upon The Dead

Discarded Self by Discarded Self

I’ve been watching a lot of serial killer movies for I don’t know, the last 25 years. (laughs) I used those types of films for the inspiration of this song. This song was written from the perspective of a husband or father of a victim of a serial killer. It is clearly a revenge song, and describes the hate and rage that would be felt by the families of the victims. It’s a disgusting dive into that reality, and ends in a way that quenches the thirst of pure revenge.

9. Upside Down (Fistula cover)

Upside Down (Fistula cover) by Discorded Self

I wanted to pay tribute to a band I love and admire, so I recorded a cover of Fistula’s song "Upside Down." Almost every single time I’m hanging with friends I always make them listen to Fistula. Almost everyone I know now knows about them, so that’s really awesome. That also must mean I drink a lot! (laughs) The original song "Upside Down" is a real simple one, so I wanted to really spice it up and added a few things, yet kept it the same, and my drummer Jadan, who is also a big Fistula fan, does a two and half minute drum solo at the end of the track. If you are reading this, and you haven’t heard of Fistula. Do yourself a favour and just turn my Discarded Self album off and check them out. You are going to get simply destroyed!

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lillaxtrigger · 4 years

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Faded Land: Chapter 18

The sun’s morning light glistens past a massive iron wall and down the futuristic suburban streets of Canada, reflecting off the metallic surfaces of both strange looking parked cars and shining home lining the blocks. Passing birds flutter across the lush, dew kissed lawns of the twisted and bright houses, some of them perching themselves atop some of their pointed rooftops as they their song echoes across the neighborhood. One of the home’s front door is swung wide open, a woman dressed in a suit and necktie comes out from the inside and walks towards her car parked along the curb. Strolling over to the driver’s side of the parked vehicle, the woman climbs into the inside to sit right in front of a square steering wheel; taking a firm hold of its leather and pressing one of the glowing buttons between the seats. As soon as the button is pressed, the bizarre car begins to lift itself from the pure white steel road underneath, hovering a couple of feet from the meta; As soon as the floating automobile is off the ground, it takes off down the pale white road ahead; uncovering a lone woman that was concealed behind the vehicle. Left exposed to the entire neighborhood, the woman sprints off down the block while the morning sun encroaches behind her.

As she sprints across the Canadian suburb, the Arabic woman’s eyes constantly shift through the scenery before her; keeping a cautious eye for whoever may be out bright and early in the morning. Can’t risk getting spotted this close to the border, especially with news of what happened back in the U.S being so fresh. The Canadian mounties are probably out here snooping through the neighborhood as we speak trying to find their fresh from the U.S perp; especially with what happened back in Buffalo. The countless bodies...None of those power plant workers deserved what became of them.

Taking all of this into account, the woman continues to race down the pale white roads set along the suburbs, her eyes soon catching a lone truck floating towards her direction. Witnessing the hovering truck incoming, she delves behind one of the cars left parked along the curb; concealing herself from the oncoming vehicle. From the window of the car she hides behind, the woman keeps her eyes glued to the automobile as it passes by; watching carefully as the truck takes the turn ahead. Her site drifting away from the departing vehicle, she’s proven captivated by the inner workings of the van she stands beside; discovering the interior controls boasting a sizable departure from the kind of cars she’s used to. So many buttons and switch, sliders and screens; It’s hard to imagine how complex controlling one of these bad boys might be. Couldn’t even get a good handle on how one on wheels works; tryin to figure out how one of these floating voltwagons is gonna be like tryin to solve hard long calculus back at collage. Not impossible, if not hellishly brain wringing. The kind of ibuprofen needed afterwards just didn’t cut it. Plus, the steering wheel ain’t even much of a wheel anymore, so much as an incomplete square. It’s looking more like one of those square controls that you find in the cockpit of an airplane. They got some kind of fancy name for them too. what is it again?...Dammit, what’s it called? Know it starts with a Y. Eh, whatever its called, just still wish there was a way inside. To have the chance to comb through one of these and see what makes it tick; well it be one of the better ways to spend an afternoon lately.

Breaking the woman out from her curious admiration, her ears catch the sudden outcry from somebody behind her; jumping as someone shout to her: “What the hell you think you’re doin to my car!?” Swiftly glancing back, she looks up through the strangely shaped home behind her to find a man perched atop a balcony on the second floor; the guy glaring down to the woman beside his parked car and further screaming: “You scratch my paint job, I’m comin down there and whoopin your ass!” Hearing the man’s angry threats, the woman dashes away from the home and around the corner, all while the man screaming as she departs with: “Yeah, you better screw off, buddeh!”

Once she makes it a ways away from the angered mans abode, the woman hides behind the corner to catch her breath; her gaze drifting through the lush and nearly foreign surroundings before her. The curvaceous and clean designs of the home’s scattered throughout the block look to be nothing akin to the cubic one’s she’s so used to…It’s kind of a surprised that some of them can support their own weight. Contrasting with the glimmering metallic finishes of the homes, the ground and tree’s surrounding them all showing to be healthy and lush; the grasses shade of natural green being a welcoming farcry from the drab and gray endless wastelands she’s so used to traveling through. The morning sunlight beams through the countless leaves that decorate the tree, the woman captivated by the wondrously natural beauty set before her eyes. As the woman stands to appreciates the drastic change of scenery, her ears catch the droning sound of siren alarms blaring in the distance; the growing police alarms breaking her away from the captivating natural beauty and urging her to flee further from the scene.

Hearing the sirens crawl ever closer, she sprints across the white streets as fast as her legs could carry her; swerving and weaving out and around the lush green tree’s and crescent shaped mailboxes decorating the sidewalk. Spotting the street corner ahead, the woman takes a glance back to discover a hovering cruiser with a glossy white finish speeding towards her direction; a maple leaf insignia propped atop the vehicle flashing red and blue like an alarm that glows through the morning air. With the mountie cruiser swiftly approaching, it occurs to her how outracing such a technologically advanced automobile ain’t gonna happen; so she decides to do the next best thing.

Once she turns through the tall picket fence ahead, she takes the moment to reach to the top of the fencing and pull herself over its wooden pikes. Vaulting over the fencing, the woman fumbles onto the dew kissed grass of a suburban lawn set on the other side; quickly pulling herself off the ground and sprinting through the yard as the sound of the sirens start to close in. Passing by the side of the steel home, she cuts straight through the abodes lush backyard; decorated with chromatic tables, chairs, and a swing that all seem to all to be rooted right into the ground. The woman weaves and leaps across the backyard décor as she speeds towards the fencing set along the other side; hopping onto one of the tables and leaping right over the wooden fence. Jumping right over the splintered fence, the woman rolls right into another homes backyard as dashes out towards the side; hoping to throw the local cops off chasing her off her trail. Once she climbs right over the chain link fencing, she races towards the other side of the yard as soon as she lands; dashing past a built in pool and its clear waters. Finding another picket fence coming up, the woman hops across the pool and onto the diving board set on the other side; bouncing right off the board and right over the splintered fencing.

Careening right over the wooden fence, the woman fumbles straight into an enclosed backyard; feeling the tall grass brush across her body as she rolls. Pulling herself off the tall patches of grass, she backs out to the face of the fencing and places her ear against the wood; hearing the alarming sirens of the police cruiser begin to fade away. Once she hears the last of the sirens fade away, a deeply relieved breath escapes from the between the woman’s lips; soon falling to the grassy grounds in a tired slump. Finally, a chance to rest.

Her relaxed breath is swiftly withdrawn back into her lungs when an abrasive growl reaches her ears; the young girl quickly getting back on her feet to discover a pitbull right in front of her, staring the woman down with its beady black eyes. The mutt slowly starts encroaching upon the panicked young woman as she inches out the side; watching as the girl soon speeds away towards the edge of the backyard, queuing the guarding canine to gives chase. Fleeing from the pursuing mutt, the young lass rushes out to the side of the home in hopes of loosing the dog behind her; soon finding the way between blocked by a brush of barbed wire. Its pursuit stopping in her tracks, the pitbull lunges towards the young woman with its teeth barred; the girl rolls out to the side to evade the mutts vicious bite. While her canine pursuer turns itself back, the woman races back towards the part of the fence she had hopped over; jumping up to the top and grasping the wooden pikes. The young girl immediately withdraws her hands from the top of the fencing, making her fall back down onto the tall grass; gazing upon the palms of her hands to find them littered with splinters. In her mild pain, she glances back to witness the guard dog swiftly approaching; the young woman getting back on her own two feet and sprinting away from the pitbull. Having found not a single way out, the best the woman could hope for was to wait out the mutt in hopes of it giving up the chase; something that she has in mind when racing towards a lone tree planted in the middle of the backyard. When she gets close enough to the tree, the young woman leaps out to its lowest branch; tightly hugging the rough bark with both of her arms. The girl pulls herself up the tree moments before the pitbull could reach her; taking a good seat on the branch as the dog beneath her continues to simply bark at her. All the vicious mutt could do against the woman intruding on its territory was keep barking to her as it stands against the tree’s base; the girl taking the time to pick out some of the splinters that she had wound up inflicted with.

The constant barking from the dog soon draws someone out from the home; the pitbull going completely silent when the sound of an elderly man demands to know: “What’s going on out here!” Glancing towards the home, the woman witnesses a pale old man dressed in flannel limp out from the back door; his embittered glare wincing from the morning sun as he gaze out to the tree. “How many time’s do I got tell ya damn kids, I-” The elderly man’s sour demeanor transforms into unbelievable astonishment when his milky eyes look upon the woman’s face; his breath raspy and course from the site of the girl. His eyes then drift away from the woman perched on the tree to the dog standing below, finding his canine glaring to the girl with a growling sneer despite her appearance. The site of this makes the elders shock swiftly drain and return to a more grumpy demeanor, soon stepping down from his back porch and slowly approaching the woman stuck in the tree; keeping his bitter glare on the young girl as he nears. Once he reaches the base of the healthy lush oak, the old man takes a moment to clear his throat before asking his unexpected guest: “What are you doing here, young lady?” The woman’s eyes dart through her surroundings before they lock to the elder below, answering him with: “Uhn...I kinda got a little lost.” “Really?...And you just so happen to wind up in my backyard, fresh in the morning?” “Eh...Pretty much.” Stating such to the old man make, a nervous giggle slips out from the woman’s lips; a couple drops of sweat rolling down her forehead as she gazes down to the elderly man below. Despite his guest’s clearly suspicious behavior, a small sigh escapes him before he orders the woman to: “Just...come inside...You too Amble.” The mention of that name makes the mutt retreat from the tree’s base and join its master as both the dog and old man return to the back porch.

Wait, that it? He ain’t even gonna ask why the hell a fine young woman is doing in his backyard? Why did he even look so shocked at first? What did he even see? Interrupting her train of thought, the woman hears the old man call out to her; glancing back to the home as he baits her attention with: “Hey, you comin inside or what?” Despite being off put by the man’s strange, if not somewhat blunt welcoming, the sound of sirens echoing out in the distance urges the young girl to jump down from the tree; responding to his offer with: “Y-yeah! Just a sec.” Landing upon the tall grass on her own two feet, the young woman waltz’s towards the back door as she picks out the last of the splinters from her hands.

Invited inside the curvaceous abode, the woman beholds the furnishings and appliances lining the smooth and silver rooms within; the living rooms chairs and couch’s boasting onyx black leather cushions. The tables and appliances such as lamps and televisions looked to be rooted to the walls and floors, their bases seemingly protruding out from the surfaces rather than being attached to them. As she’s taken through the elders home, her attention his baited to a glowing picture frame protruding out from the wall; sliding through picture after picture of the elder closer to his prime. One of the photo’s depict him with somebody donning Canadian military armor, the armored soldier holding the man in a tight, loving embrace; a message written on the pictures side which reads: “Hang on for me Winny. I’ll see you soon. Paula.”

Glancing back to her elderly host, she witnesses him take a seat on one of the leather chairs in the living room; the woman doing the same while thanking the old man with: “I don’t know how to thank you for calling off your dog back there. I honestly didn’t mean too-” “You can start by tellin me who the hell you are. Obviously finding a young woman dangling in your backyard tree’s gonna need an explanation, so you better come up with a good one.” the old man sharply responds. “Right...I’m-M-my name is Clara Asfour, and I happen to be with a group of traveling scientists that have come to study the relations of the Canadian and US from the safety of the border walls.” Hearing the woman stating her last name make’s the elder’s eyes slightly widen, soon returning to his bitter stare as he hears the scientist further explain how: “I somehow got a little lost while trying to rejoin my peers, so I thought to take a shortcut. Figured cutting through people’s yards would be the quickest way back, but it just made me wind up jumping straight into your backyard. Honest mistake, really.” Clara’s faux explanation makes her old host give her an odd, suspicious glare; the scientist putting on a false smile hoping he wouldn’t press any further. Despite his guests nervous grin, the elder eases his gaze as he suggest that she: “Guess you better call your little pose to come pick ya up then.” “Uh, about that...My phone accidentally dropped while I was tryin to find my way back...You got a computer I could log into?” The scientist’s request causes the old man to let out a frustrated sigh as he rises from his black leather chair; Clara doing the same as the elder ventures towards a dark, curving hall set along the side of the living room and hearing him tell her to: “Come with me.”

The scientist’s elderly host opens the door to a back room, the light of the hallway flooding the darkness within; the first thing to catch Clara’s attention be an odd, massive computer terminal coming out from the at the far end of the room. Attached to the terminal via dozens of long tendrils be a single helmet with an onyx black visor; the young scientist grasps hold of the helm to look inside inside as her host flips the light switch. “Um...this is...” “I know. It’s kind of an outdated dinosaur compared to what you 20 something’s are probably used to using; but it still runs like new. Might not be as fast, but it’ll still get the job done.” “Right...Hey, mind if I work in private here? Having people around me while I work a computer makes me a wee bit nervous.” From Clara’s request, her elderly host shrugs as he closes the door; leaving the scientist alone with the strange computer terminal.

Once her host leaves her be, Clara takes the moment of privacy to inspect the odd towering terminal set before her; finding almost next to no buttons laid out along the face, just a few ports for outside devices to be plugged in. The back of the terminal proves to be just as baron as the front, not even sporting so little as a power cord; just a single cord cord branching off and connecting to various parts of the helmet. No keyboard, no mouse, no mic, no speakers, almost next to nothing attached to it say for this dinky ass helmet. Might be some kind of virtual reality stuff going on here, with the helm using neurological controls… Guess there’s only one way to turn it on. Placing her palms on both sides of the glossy headset, the scientist slowly and cautiously lowers the helmet right onto her head; the black visor covering her eyes in pure pitch black.

After a few moments of staring into nothing but pitch blackness, the scientist site is engulfed in a brilliant blinding light; Clara’s eyes taking a couple seconds to adjust to the heavenly glow. Once the lights dim and her site returns to her, the young woman finds herself floating in the midst of teal void; with nothing but the mixture of green and blue stretching for miles on end. The seemingly endless void starts to creep on the scientists paranoia floating within the space causing panicking question to arise; such as if she still alive, where she’s at, and what that computer did to her. In the midst of wondering all of this, a window suddenly appears in front of the scientist; the prompt making her tumble back. Stopping herself from flipping through the empty space, the scientist swims through the weightless void and back to the window before her; reading the text it contains.

This terminal unit is under copyright and trademark of its creators and publishers over at K-Lab’s industry. Any modification or tampering of this units functions by any non approved third party’s shall void the lifetime warranty bundled with this unit and result possible penalty charges involving unlawful modifications. If you have a history of epilepsy, seizures, migraines, and/or headache’s please consult a doctor before operating this device. Below are a set list of instructions on how to operate this VR helm cerebrum terminal. Please use your fingers if you’re having trouble with the neurological controls.

Doing as the tab suggests, the scientist scrolls down the window to the instruction on how to control and operate the terminal. Let’s see her… Function in this device can be operated using thought to action technology to detect brain patterns of the user. If such functions are unavailable or disabled, then alternate controls such as voice, touch and/or artificial keyboard are available. Okay, so this thing uses thought to make stuff happen. So simply thinking about searching stuff on the internet should be as simple as thinking about it. Having is in mind is all the terminal needs to take as a request; the teal void surrounding the scientist swiftly morphing into pure white.

Popping out from the white abyss, a colorful logo depicting a brain with the words “Mind net” appears before Clara; a square with the word “search” placed at the bottom of the logo. When the scientist presses her finger against the “Search” button, the logo fires a small light straight into Clara’s head; a synthetic voice echoing through the void and commanding her to: “Think of search terms now.” Think?...So if this thing detects the brain thinking of uh, don’t know...hot muscly woman in bikini’s, it’d just search for it? From these thoughts does she inadvertently cause the search to register in the search bar: “Hot muscly woman in bikini’s” Wait, hang on a second!?

These terms confirmed for the search, the white void surrounding the scientist swiftly begins to fill with dozens upon dozens of pictures depicting women of great physical stature donned in skimpy beach wear; images that cause Clara’s face to turn a shade of beat red. Oh god…Well, can’t say that it isn’t effective... So if all of this terminal’s functions rely on the brain, it makes one wonder how this is managing the body outside.

Out in the real world, the scientist body lays completely limp on the carpeted floor; her body lying crooked and bent as her mouth drools out drips of saliva. While Clara lays utterly unconscious, the door to the back room slowly cracks open; her elderly host lets himself inside and glances down to his comatose guest. A lowkey groan leaving his lungs, the old man places his withered palm upon the floor beside her; raising his hand to erect from the ground a lone chair. “Damn kid.”

Realizing now how the search controls work, the scientist once more lightly taps her finger against the search bar; the site’s logo firing out a small light that sets Clara’s head aglow. Inheriting the light, she concentrates every ounce of thought she could muster into what she wishes to search for. Current events happening around the world. From these thoughts, the muscly woman surrounding her dissolve before her; their pieces and dust swiftly reforming themselves into countless windows; each of which unveiling pictures, documents, and news articles from across the globe. The links and websites she comes to find take Clara aback, discovering some from locations such as Russia, China, Germany, Europe; even to places like Africa and the middle east. Curious of the current endeavors around the world, the scientist taps a couple of the links presented to her; the words expanding themselves into entire websites decorated with ads and diagrams. The pictures that the site presents her show famous landmarks that she recognizes still standing to this day; including the Cathedral square, Moscow Kremlin, even the Winter Palace.

This...this doesn’t sound right...Was Russia just an exception to all of this nuclear fallout? Maybe it effected somewhere else. In her search for such answers, the scientist glances away from the article to turn her attention over to one concerning over Africa; relaying on the current events concerning its wildlife. Tapping the link, the words expand themselves into an article like the one before; showing the scientist pieces of news concerning their animal population. It goes on to read on how certain endangered species that were once endangered are slowly being introduced into the wild; thriving well within the healthy African savanna. There too...Alright, maybe the ramifications of this whole Canadian/US nuclear war weren’t as severe to the rest of the world. Still, there has to be some kind of consequences from all of this that has had some effect outside the US, right?

Scrolling further through the search results, Clara manages to spot articles concerning newly unveiled technology; the scientist eager curiosity urging her to tap on the link. Expanding out from the link, a website listing several new gadgets and appliances presents itself to the young woman; Clara finding such devices listed called the instant shower, carpet grower, mini dentist toothbrush; and something called the atomic powered cordless light. All these products don’t even come close to the scratching the surface to how many devices and appliances are listed hear; a lot of them seeming almost science fiction in so much as name coming from her era. Listed beside the freshly invented products and gadgets be the names of those who had designed and developed them all; one of them of which suddenly baits her attention. Arthur Dieman…Xcuse me?

Upon spotting the familiar name among the list, the scientist almost immediately thrusts her fingertip onto it; the collection of words before her transforming into an entirely different list. The records she comes to find show to be longer than the scientist had expected; show such products invented as the time preserving refrigerator, the flash microwave and oven, and something called the chrono cat toy. A fact that takes the scientist aback is how some of these devices have been registered from at least a month back. Discovering all this does Clara return her site to the search bar set above, quickly reaching out and tapping her finger on the logo. As soon as the mind net bestows a speck of light to the scientists mind, Clara focus’s her thoughts on the whereabouts of her missing friend; Arthur Dieman.

Submitting these thoughts to the neurological search engine, the articles currently surrounding her dissipate into dust, the pieces reforming themselves into a catalog of search results concerning the scientists friend in question. From the listings presented to her, Clara comes to find news articles holding a picture of a young man aside an older woman; the two of them shaking hands while standing in front of a logo with a stylized K.

What...the...fuck?...What the hell is this?...Why is...what is Arthur doing there? What is happening!? Urgent to know the context of the picture above, the scientist scrolls down to read the article presented underneath. “Scrappy young scientist arrives with Strange device and quickly climbs to the top.”

“Over a month ago, a task force sent out over the Canadian border detected a bizarre energy reading during their visit to the ruins of Louisville, the strange reading soon leading them straight to a young man named Arthur Dieman; who was carrying a spherical device emitting a power source having not been documented since before the Canadian-US, war. After the visiting troops intercepted and isolated the source of the power, the young man holding the device was abducted and brought back to their base for questioning; young Arthur left explaining to officials the origin of the odd device. The details of the questioning as of the publication if this article have to be declassified and released to the public, though we can share what happened to the young man taken into the Canadian governments custody. After the briefing, the young Arthur Dieman was transferred over to the famous scientific and research development company, K-Labs, to study and research the inner workings of the odd device. While under the company’s custody, the young man quickly displayed eager curiosity of the technology being developed at the time; and with his help, have manage to finish several projects that have been predicted not to be complete until years later. With this kind of enthusiastic ingenuity, Arthur was offered a full time job among the K-lab staff; where upon he quickly rose from the ranks to become the lead researcher and developer. Since his swifty climb to the top, young Dieman has crafted several devices and appliances designed to support and help humanity worldwide.”

So...they wind up snatching Arthurs lab coated ass over the border, take him in for interrogation over the time orb, force him under the country scientific research division; and has such a massive science hard on over there that begs them to give him a job; where he winds up doing so good in fact, that he takes over in under a month...Yep, that just about sounds like him. It took him even less time over here than it did back in our subdivision.

Before the young scientist could stroll further through the article for more information involving her friend, the website around her begins to fracture; cracks that emerge from the sides quickly spreading through out the entirety of the page. The entire browser eventually shatters into tiny pieces before Clara, the woman gazing down as the remains disappear into the teal void. Once the last of the browsers pieces fall into the abyss, a small window appears before her, claiming:

“This terminal is currently having connectivity issues. Please check with your internet provider or terminal maintenance provider and please try again.”

A small groan escaping from her lips, the scientist opts it best to simply just log off; concentrating on the helmet to release her from its neurological hold. These thoughts swirling in her head causes the seal abyss surrounding her to fall into pitch black darkness, the scientist soon finds feeling returning her lower body.

From the darkness, Clara reawakens to the real world with a gasping breath; pacing her breathing as she takes off the computers special cerebral helmet. Holy hell, that was surreal. Just floating in that weightless void surrounded by links, pictures, and articles; kind wish it didn’t clunk out when it did. What time even is it? Curious of such, her eyes dart around the room for any form of clock, soon witnessing an LED clock perched on the table to the side; its light reading the to be...2:53!? How the...It was only about 10 when last checked...How the fuck did nearly 4 hours pass!? How the hell does the stomach not rumble for that long!? Right in pondering such does Clara hear her belly let out a roaring rumble, one that makes her let out a painful moan. There it is...Man, wonder what the old man has to munch on around here.

Coming out of the back room, the scientist wonders through the curving abodes hallway as she searches for her elderly host; hearing his voice echoing through the chromatic halls. “So what kinda trouble might be around here officer?” Hearing her host referee to somebody as an officer, the scientist stops just before she could walk around the corner; peeking out into the living room to discover the elder right at the front door. Standing before the old man be someone dressed in white red armor and a mountie hat; the officer before him claiming how: “We got a call this morning about an American terrorist having illegally crossed the border around this area. An officer positioned in this neighborhood reported last seeing her flee through this block and has yet to have spotted her since. We were hoping if you would tell us if you’ve seen this woman anywhere around here.” The officer asking him such, he presents a mock up drawing of their perpetrator; the elder gazing to the picture with a faux sense of confusion. “She was seen to have brunette hair with Arabic skin. We’re hoping to track her down before she can escape further into the country.” A dreading sense of worry starts to build behind his fake gaze, finding the drawing bearing a resemble to his recent guest. A small hiss is drawn through his teeth before the old man glances back to the mountie and claims that: “Sorry, young man. Haven’t seen anyone like that around here.” “Right...thank you for your time.” the officer thanks before he begins to leave.

After watching the mountie get into his cruiser and hover off around the corner, the old man finally shuts his front door; locking the inside as his guest comes out from around the corner. “Uh...Hey...thanks for not ratting me out there...I’m really sorry I-” Once he finishes locking his door, the old man turns to his guest with a piercing contempt glare; his gaze causing the scientist to stop dead in her tracks. “Uhh...I-” “I want your sorry ass outta my home by tomorrow morning, ya got it? I don’t want any of this shit ruining all that I have left.” the elder demands as he marches past the scientist and straight through the hall. “I didn’t mean to lie to you, I-” Before Clara could finish apologizing to her disgruntled host, she hears one of the doors slam shut; the impact making her jump. Left all by her lonesome in the living room, a strong sense of guilt creeps within the young scientist; the exposed lie that she had spun leaving her little favor for her host.

The night eventually dawns upon the Canadian neighborhood, the lunar light from the moon bouncing off the smooth reflecting surfaces of the homes and; giving the village a dim, but pale glow. Some of this light manages to creep in through the shut blades of one of the home’s windows; the glow reaching up to the couch that the scientist lays on. Despite reaching the late hour of the wolf, Clara could barely keep her eyes shut for even a moment; the results of her search through the new world wide web still fresh in her mind. All the new and unusual technology, the strange and bizarre architecture, parts of the worlds still left intact; but the most ground breaking still fresh to her is the endeavors of her fellow scientist. It’s still brain racking why Arthur wanted so badly to work for the Canadian science division, especially with what they rendered the U.S too. He might not have had to as seen as much, but still. Something even more worrying being the time orb in the Canadian’s possession, the possibilities of what they could do with such time bending technology driving the scientist into a panic. Clara quickly calms herself upon the realization that they had it for around a month now; if they were intending to use it, they would’ve done so already. The matter of fact is that with all the seemingly impossible devices that typically found in a science fiction title they’ve invented, a good chunk of those researchers over at K-labs aren’t morons. Some of them are probably cautious of what kind of stuff the orb can do and how it can affect reality; so there probably not so eager to even take it for a test spin. Though who know’s how long that sentiment will last.

As she ponders on all of this recent news, a loud gurgle soon baits the scientist’s attention; Clara glancing down to feel her stomach letting out a roaring growl. Speaking of lasting, the bladder can only last so long before it needs relief. This in mind, Clara leaps off the couch and races towards the curving hall set across the living room; weaving around the metallic hallway until reaching the open bathroom.

Several minutes pass before a loud flush sounds throughout the home, the door to the bathroom opening back up; the scientist strolling out of the bathroom as a relieved breath escapes from between her lips. Just in time...Been holding all that since getting across the border. Good thing the toilets here stayed mostly the same. Could do without all the other add on’s though. Honestly have no idea what thought process the manufactures had when they thought that a toilet needed a blending unit.

While she strolls on back towards the living room at the end of the hall, Clara’s eyes spot a faint gleam beyond the crack of one of the doors; the scientist slowly approaching and pushing the door in to find the source of the reflecting glow. The door that Clara pushes through takes her into the darkened confines of a simple garage, the light being cast be the moonlight bouncing off something blanketed in the darkness. From the side of the door, the scientist feels around for switch or button that could light up the dark garage; Clara eventually feeling a lone button set to the side. Pressing this button, a bright glow lights up the entirety of the garage; unveiling to the scientist a parked car similar to those she had seen parked throughout the neighborhood. Despite the futuristic automobiles faded and dusty appearance, the site sets her scientific curiosity to a boil; Clara eagerly letting herself in to take a much closer inspection. Taking a peek at the inside, the scientist found the dashboard decorated with a myriad of buttons, switches, and screens; all with a whole heaping mess of loose wires and diodes hanging underneath it all. Every single one of these buttons must have a specific function for this puppy; all of them essential for this massive hunk of floating metal to run as smoothly as possible.

Having quickly review the cockpit of the futuristic vehicle, the curious young woman slides over to the front of the car and glides her fingers between the hood; cracking the front wide open to check out what makes it tick. Her inspection leads her to uncover all sorts of foreign parts and machinery that of which remain almost resembling those of a car from her time; the only differences being how exactly they’re structured and which seem to be made of difference material. Titanium?...maybe...Don’t know. The scratches and dents decorating their surfaces all seem to suggest otherwise. Even with them having all that, they don’t look that badly damaged. Nothing that looks that severe. With how advance it all looks, the parts making it up seem to hold some baseline components that can be worked on. The only real thing that looks missing from it all is a power source to keep it constantly fed. Getting one on the other hand might not be as easy as it sounds, especially with the fuzz skulking around here. It might take days, or even weeks to scrape one up around here. Not to mention with no guarantee of it would even be compatible with-

While wondering on where to find a strong enough power source for the old wagon, she remembers something in her bag that might just do the trick. This in mind, she tip toe’s out of the garage and into the living room; snatching her bag from behind the coach she was laying on. Sneaking herself back inside, Clara starts digging deep through her pack for the piece to this puzzle she needs. Come on. It has to be somewhere in here...Couldn’t have fallen out, could it? Oh god, if it fell out… In her search does she manage to spot a loan black box in between the few cans of food she has left; the site of the box causing a beaming smile to stretch across the scientists face. Yes, still have it! After pulling out the black box from her pack, the scientist slowly begins opening the dense led case; a bright emerald light enveloping the entire garage. Knew snatching this puppy from New Boro’s would be worth it someday. From within the dense led case, Clara unveils a green cylinder irradiating a strong luminescence; the scientist soon plants it somewhere between the motor and piping. Right, let’s see if this baby’ll take nuclear. Once she places the nuclear battery inside, the scientist looks through the garage for whatever she could connect it too; soon finding a pair of pliers sitting on the side. Snatching the pliers up, Clara quickly pinches them to both ends of the battery; soon grasping hold of a set of loose wires close to the dash and connecting them to the power source.

Successfully connecting the dashboard wires with her little nuclear power house, the young scientist gleefully opens the door to the drivers side and jumps right in; landing right in the drivers seat and gazing to the myriad of buttons set along the dash. Let’s see...ignition, ignition, ignition… In her search for such, Clara comes to a small button nestled between the wheel; a stylized flaming power symbol painted across its surface. There we are. The button in her site, the scientist slides her finger over its hard painted surface; pressing and holding down against its plastic and soon hearing a droning hum echo through the garage. While keeping the ignition held, Clara keeps her eyes on the screens and gauges lining the dash before her for any signs of life; hoping that her little battery she had planted would be enough to give the old beast a jolting spark. A few moments pass as the battery’s emerald glow grows ever brighter, its strong power soon setting the screens set across the young scientist alight; the needles set on the face of the glowing gauges slowly rising from the bottom. Witnessing her little power source successfully bring the futuristic automobile to life, a wide smile beams between her cheeks; Clara unable to contain her excitement as she lets out a loud: “Yes!”

Her celebration quickly deflates upon hearing her hosts dog let out an alarming bark; the scientist jumping out of the drivers seat and racing to the front of the vehicle to reach for her little battery. Just before Clara could unhook the pliers to the radioactive power source, the door leading into the curving hallway swings open; the old man and his mutt bursting in with the elder wielding a strange looking firearms. “You little motherfuckers, I’ll-” His alarm starts to die down when he realizes it being only his host, the old man’s panicked gaze slowly morphing into a vindictive scowl; keeping the point of his gun aimed to the scientist. Clara raises her hands away from the pair of pliers and backs away from her armed host, sweat running down her forehead as she hears the old man question between his teeth: “What the hell do you think your doing in my garage?” “I-I-I just saw the door open and found this car inside. I was just wanting to see how it runs and-” “You shouldn’t even be in here, at all. You know what, get yer shit together and get the hell outta my home. I’m not gonna have some terrorist that snuck into the country come in my home and mess with my-” the enraged elder rants as he starts to approach the frightened scientist. Entering further within his garage is the elders attention drawn to the lights gleaming inside his dusty run down vehicle; the site of the partially active automobile swiftly tempering his rage into bewildering astonishment, leaving the scientist somewhat worried of what he might do next.

Once the old man finally turns back to his guest, he sets his bizarre looking rifle to the side; Clara’s back set against the wall as her host further approaches and hears him question her on: “How did you turn this on?” Not a word escaping from her mouth, the young woman points over to the open hood of the car, the old man’s eyes drawn to the emerald glowing cylinder planted inside. The elderly host approaches the hood for a closer inspection, gazing around the battery to find only the wires leading to the dashboard connected to the glowing power source. Without taking his eyes off the illuminating battery, the old man questions his guest if: “You think you can figure out how to hook this thing up to the rest of the car.” “I-I think...It might take some time though, but...why are you-” “Good...” Uttering this does the old man turn back to the scientist backed against the wall and finishes claiming that: “Cause you’re not going anywhere until you do.” “W-what?” “Better get as much sleep as ya can. Cause you working on this first thing in the morning.” the elder states as he leaves the garage, taking both his rifle and dog out with him. Left alone in the glowing garage, Clara is left strikingly puzzled by her host sudden change of mind, her gaze drifting to the dusty car that she had worked on. What’s with his sudden change in attitude? And why, of all things, does this guy wanna risk harboring an illegal and sought after immigrant just to get his car fixed; especially with how strongly he felt about it earlier. Mmm...Ah well, least it bought a few more days to hide. Just need a plan on how to outrun the fuzz once this is all over.

Back to the advance computer terminal set in the back room, the scientist dons the VR helmet once again; finding herself surrounded by its bright teal void once again. Having prior knowledge of how the terminal operates, Clara concentrates her thoughts into opening the web browser; the teal abyss around her transforming into a white void. Once the logo for Mind net pops up before her, the young woman taps the search bar placed underneath; the brain firing a bright glow straight into the scientist’s own mind. Right...research and advancements in moderns automobiles. Echoing these terms in her head, entire columns of links, pictures, and news articles swiftly surround Clara; the scientist gazing through the list of search results for whatever could help her in fixing her hosts car. Let’s see here...Automobile history. Interesting, but maybe another time. Priorities. One to one online vehicle maintenance course...Could help, but it might be too risky. And who know’s how it would take. It might be best not to try taking it all at once. How about we just stick to figuring out how the wiring works. Tapping the search bar once again, the Mind net logo dispenses another bright light straight into the scientist own brain; focusing her thoughts on the specific basic wiring of an everyday hovering automobile. To this, the links and pictures are swept into a swirling vortex; where upon the letters are rearranged and formed into entirely different words. As the vortex starts to die down, the newly formed words begin to form whole new sentences; transforming into dozens upon dozens of links and depicting diagrams and details on the basic wiring of the everyday hovering automobile. Right, now were getting somewhere.

Scrolling through the search results presented to her, the young woman soon touches a link that’s labeled: “The veins of our vehicles, a rundown of the inner workings of a cars wiring.” From tapping the link do the list of search results surrounding her disappear; the white void filling with a swirling cool colored background. Emerging from this new background, a cavalcade of paragraphs, diagrams, and advertisements all line themselves accordingly, the pictures of which depicting an X ray of a hovering vehicles wiring. From the front of the car, the scientist discovers how a good chunk of the cars wires seem to be built around directing a far stronger source of energy; nothing like the electrical batteries of yesteryear. Come to think of it, the list of materials used to make the wires seem a little familiar. Traces of led coating around the surface of the electrodes, plutonium based steel lining the inside, even housing a built in coolant to regulate temperature. All this is sounding like they were already working with something similar to atomic energy; guess it explains why the battery was so well compatible with the wires. Seems like good chunk of the cars functions rely on the battery; even the engine need to take a bit for to sustain itself.

While the young woman continues paroling through the page, her eyes catch the a piece of advertisement set along the side of the article; showing a figure familiar to the scientist. Was...was that… Scrolling back up to the piece of advertisement to discover the photo presented be a picture of Arthur shaking hands with someone in Canadian military armor. “Fresh blood at K-labs offers technological assistance in aiding the governments military branch.”

Upon seeing the title does Clara almost immediately click on the ad, a small window soon expanding before her to present the article in question. From the picture of Arthur shaking hands with the military official, the scientist begins to read the paragraph below:

“After coming out of seemingly nowhere, the young scientist, Arthur Dieman, was sent to the K-labs facility to help research a strange device he had with him. During his time among them, the young man quickly climbed from a simple assistance straight into the seat of a lead developer among the staff; where upon he has developed and designed several devices and machines in the companies efforts to benefit and advance humanity. Now the young man has been offered to branch his work out to the countries military branch; developing gadgets and devices to help aid and strengthen the Canadian forces.”

Arthur...what are you doing?

As this questions rings through Clara’s head, a loud yawn manages to escape from the depths of her lungs, this having her wonder what the time may be. Thinking this does a clock almost instantly pop up before her, revealing the hour to be...5:34! Hot damn. That’s almost morning. Best get off and get some sleep before the sun rises. Who know’s how much work that wagon in that old man’s garage is gonna need.

Once she logs off and returns to the physical world, Clara lumbers through the curving hallway and towards the living room; stumbling her way to the couch and falling face first in its leather cushions. Sleep...at last. Before the young woman could even attempt to drift off into the comforting slumber of unconsciousness, a sudden voice makes her jump right off; hearing someone shout: “Rise and shine missy!” The tired scientist fumbles into the cold hard carpet, scrambling to get up in her panic to soon find her elderly host standing beside her. “Wha… “Time to get up and movin. The earlier the better.” Clara lets out a tiring moan, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she states how: “It’s like the middle of 5 man, least let me have a half an hour. I haven’t had a decent night sleep in like a month now.” “You’ll spend a night in the border penitentiary if you don’t get yer ass up.” Hearing her host threaten to squeal, the young scientist slowly rises from the carpet; requesting to her less than gracious host: “Fine. Mind if you be so kind as to at least let me ask for some breakfast and a cup a coffee.”

Sitting right on the kitchen dining table, the old buzzer tosses a packet of maple and cinnamon instant oatmeal and a syringe filled with blackish brown liquid; Clara’s eyes glued to the veil set on the table as she asks: “What’s with the needle?” “Don’t got any kinda traditional coffee ground. You’ll haveta settle for this.” Carefully picking the needle off the marble table, the scientist takes a closer look to the liquid contained within the clear veil; questioning if: “So, am I just supposed to squirt it in my mouth?” “Ya don’t drink it, ya stab yerself with it.” her host answers. “Wai-wai-wait, lik-like an injection?” “That’s the idea.” “Le-let me see if I can get this right, you’re expecting to inject straight caffine right into my bloodstream?” “You really wantin me to repeat myself?” “That’s...that’s insane. How do ya know it just won’t make me have seizure and drop dead?” “Will ya quit yer cryin, half the world does it on a daily basis; has been since the second half of the war. Lab boys over at the capital finally figured out to mix it alongside balancing agents so yer heart don’t explode. Can’t imagine how much testing they had to run through in such a short time. Probably busting hearts over there like overinflated balloons. Only thing you gotta worry about now is the crash afterwards; that stuff hits hard when it wears off.”

After her host explains all of this, he makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the curved hallway; further informing his guest how: “Ya got 15 minutes.” With how little time her host has given her, Clara takes a couple deep breathes before she takes the veil full of caffeine; pacing her breath slowly as she hovers the needle over her arm. Okay Clara, relax. It’s not as bad as you think. Just pretend like its a vaccine. Its good for you. Some say that it isn’t, but those people are stupid. A few moments of self preparation and the young woman finally jabs the syringe straight into her arm; the needle cleanly piercing through the scientist’s skin. Once she drives the point deep enough, Clara pushes the concentrated caffeine out the syringe and straight into her bloodstream; the scientist withdrawing the needle from her body once the last of its contents are injected.

A small shiver escapes her once she finally takes the needle out; the young woman checking the inside to find every single drop of caffeine squeezed out. So, how long will it take before this stuff kicks in? In wondering that, she starts to notice her hand visibly trembling; so much so that it drops the empty syringe it holds onto the dinning table. Oh no. Spreading from her hand, this newfound jittering sensation starts to creep down to her arm; gradually spreading throughout her entire body and causing her to spasm onto the kitchen floor. Oh god! Please, make it stop! Just as fast as she begins to convulse, the scientist’s entire body soon starts to calm itself in a matter of seconds; Clara soon laying motionless on the floor. After basking in the calming euphoria, the young woman picks herself off the marble floor; feeling as awaking and alert as if she’s gotten a full nights rest. And...there it is.

With the hearty dose of caffeine freshly injected into her system, Clara continues work on her hosts hovering automobile nestled within the garage; unwinding the seemingly countless wires tangled throughout its insides. Around the back of the vehicle, the scientist carefully weaves the wiring around the old chromatic frame; the dust from the frame fluttering off the steel and around the young woman. The specks soon begins to irritate the working scientist as she works, drifting across her eyes and nose while running the wires across the inside; some of which drifts behind her glasses and lands straight into her eye. The young scientist lets out a painful hiss as she tightly shuts her eyes, resisting the urge to jerk her head back between the frame of the vehicle. Dammit all! When’s the last time that old bastard even cleaned this damn thing? Feels like its been stuffed in here for about a decade.

Despite the irritation she feels, the scientist attempts to power through the pain; forcing open one of her watery eyes as she continues to untangle the wires out of the frame. Just when her eyes were starting to clear up, Clara suddenly lets out an unexpected sneeze; the snot of which sprays right onto the exposed wiring. The snot soon causes the loose wires to let out an intense spark, one strong enough to send the scientist coiling back from the automobile; the back bumper and headlight dangling off and on the verge of detaching.

While she arises from the garages cold hard concrete, Clara can’t help but let out a painful growl as she stands; the groan echoing beyond the cracked open door leading to the hallway. The same door is soon swung wide open by the scientist’s elderly host; the young woman finding the old man peeking inside and taking the chance to question him: “Would this thing even work if its all hooked up? The parts here look like they haven’t been touched in ages.” “The body and parts might seem old, but they run just fine. Most of its problems stem from the strings and wires not being aligned.” “I can think of more problems than that.” the scientist states under her breath. “What was that?” “I mean...if that’s all you think is wrong with it, then why aren’t you hook it all up?” “...Gotten too old. Hands won’t stop shaken long enough to wire it safely. Its why I need you to do all the technical crap.” Hearing her host admit this draws out an iota of sympathy from Clara, the scientist can’t help but gaze to the elder with pity. His guests pitiable stares leaves the old man rather upset, demanding as he walks back inside for her to: “Now get back to work...” Her host’s disgruntled departure leaves the scientist a little miffed, the scientist moving past the rude goodbye with strolling to the front of the car and continuing her work on the battery.

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Clara delves deep under the hood and grasps a set of tangled wires from across the other side of the dash; carefully unraveling them from one another. Once she frees the mess of wires from each other, the scientist hooks their ends straight to her little nuclear powerhouse; witnessing the green energy flow through the cars strings. Seeing this, the young woman climbs out from under the hood and strolls to the side of the vehicle; opening the door and jumping straight into the drivers seat. As soon as she sits her ass down onto the comforting leather, Clara slides her finger between the wheel and the dash; pressing her fingertip onto the stylized power button. Let’s hope this gets the engine roaring. Keeping her finger on the ignition, the young woman witnesses the buttons and screens along the dash alight; the scientist keeping her ears to the dashboard for any sign of the engine outside the electrical hum. 10 whole seconds pass from pressing the button and the scientist’s ears catch not even a harsh whisper from the engine; this failure making her release and slink her head against the driver side window.

As she sulks in her defeat, the young woman peaks out the window to discover something sitting outside the car; Clara finding her host canine gazing to her with its baby blue eyes. In hopes of not making the mutt jump on the attack, the scientist slowly opens the driver side door and carefully exits the car; facing her palms to the part pitbull to ease it from lunging at her. “Easy boy, easy.” Shutting the drivers side door, Clara’s cautious demeanor suddenly changes when upon discovering the mutts scars that plague its chest and stomach. “What the…Oh god...” A closer look at the scars show them to be from years ago; evidence of the gashes and cuts being severe enough to cut through the skin, possibly to the bone. Kneeling before the canine, Clara finds a soft leather collar hugging the mutts neck; a golden maple leaf hangs underneath his neck with a name engraved on its bottom. “Amble?… Poor dog. What happened to you?” “That dog once served in the Canadian military.” she hears someone claims. Jumping from the sudden voice, the young scientist swiftly turns back to the door leading inside; finding her host staring at her from the doorway. “So there battle scars?...How’d he wind up with you?” “Poor boy was meant to be put down after the years started catching up to him. Said something about him being to unstable to anyone’s pet. My wife, who was a general at the time, said otherwise. Stepped in and offered to shelter the mutt herself.” “Oh...you’re wife. Guess she was a good person to offer and domesticate him.” “She really was.” the elder claims, a longing sigh escaping from his lungs.

“So...how’s work on the car going?” the old man picks back up. “Still the same as yesterday. Can’t even her a thing from the engine. Are you sure it’s not just out of gas?” “Gas...no cars here use that stuff anymore. Especially now a days. All that my chariot needs to run is a good power source to draw from; and the one you got hooked to it now will do just nicely.” “Well, ain’t that convenient.” “That’s technology, young lady; full blown Canadian ingenuity at work there. It’s what my wife fought for, and it’s what you’ll be fixing.” Declaring such to his young guest, the old man leaves back into the hallway of his home; Amble passing by the scientist to join his master.

Another hour passes as the young woman continues her work on the futuristic automobile; her eyes gradually growing heavier against the sunlight leaking in through the door windows as she does maintenance to the back. When an overwhelming yawn escapes from her lungs, the scientist glances over to the clock protruding out of the garage wall; shocked to find the time to not even reach the evening. It hasn’t even reach 5 yet. The sun’s still out. Why do...Why is...Is the...Is the caffeine wearing off? Her head starting to spin, Clara attempts to walk to the door leading to the curving halls; the scientist soon feeling her muscles relaxing as she lumbers towards the exit. As she reaches out for the handle, the young woman feels her legs trembling to hold her own slacking weight; her vision beginning to drift away. Just moments before she could even touch the door, the scientist’s consciousness blacks out; the young girl fainting onto the cold hard concrete.

The scientist starts to reawaken from the black void of unconsciousness; feeling the welcoming softness of leather cushions underneath her back as she starts to open her eyes. The first thing that Clara feels as she awakens is as intense migraine clawing through her head; the young woman letting out a painful hiss as she rubs her temple. Tilting her head to the open side of the couch, the young scientist finds her elderly host resting in the chair beside her; his milky white eyes locked to the woman. “What...the hell happened to me?” “The caffeine in your system wore off. I told ya the crash would be intense.” “God, it feels like I’ve been hit with a dump truck while being force fed melatonin. I can barely keep my eyes open.” “I guessin this was your first time taking a coffee syringe?” “First time taking coffee period.” “Oof, that stings. Don’t worry about it thought, taking them on a daily basis’s outta make the ride a little easier and curb the crashes. The head pounding headache’s on the other hand, oh hell. You’d be begging to be out cold.” “I think I’ll pass on stabbing myself with anymore needles, thank you.” “Good on ya. I personally didn’t like taking them myself. Only reason I had one around was cause my wife would take em like crazy.” the elder admits. “Wait, so how long have you had that the one you handed me?” “Uh...huh. It’s been in my cabinet for so long, I can’t remember actually.” “So you wound up making me take an expired caffeine injection!?” the scientist shouts. “Guess I did...My bad.” After hearing her host admit this, the young woman turns over to the other side of the couch; a painful groan escaping from her lips as she clutches her head. The old man than rises from his leather comforter, waltzing out towards the hallway as he offers his guest: “Probably should let ya have ya rest the rest of the day before ya get back to work. Don’t want ya dyin on me before ya finish.”

Resting the peaceful night away, the morning sun soon climbs up from the horizon and past the giant iron wall; its twilight glow seeping through the garage window and reflecting off the dusty vehicle. Underneath its bottom the young scientist continues to piece together the parts to synchronize to her little green battery; reaching deep within its inside and extracting the wiring to the rest of the car. Clara pinches out a couple of wires from within the automobile and slowly inches the open ends together; drips of sweat running down her forehead. Easy...Just gotta connect these two and it should regulate the power flow. A small piece of piping falling on her arm makes the scientist jerk the two wires together, causing a violent spark is let loose between them both; the sudden volt causing Clara to jolt up and slam her head right onto the cars hard chromatic frame. Hiss’s and growls are all that can escape from the between the scientist’s teeth as she crawls out from under the car; keeping her palms on part of her hurt forehead as she then curses out: “God damn fucking chrome! How the hell does that old bastard expect me to work with this damn thing falling apart on me!?”

As the young woman’s growls echo through the garage, the door leading inside starts to crack open; her elderly host slowly coming inside to watch the scientist flail on the cold floor. “Will ya quit throwin a fit. Cryin like that ain’t gonna get ya anywhere.” “Oh, like I can even get anywhere in the first place? This mess is barely standing with the duct tape and glue holding it together; why the hell are so fixated on fixing this poorly kept piece of crap?” “You-!” the old man starts to scream, his face flushed red from his hosts rude question. Before the old host could lose his temper onto the young lady, he takes a couple breathes to calm himself; finishing his statement with: “It’s just...important to me, alright?” Despite claiming such to his guest, the elder finds his given reason clearly not enough to for the scientist; the young woman staring to him with a squinted glare.

Seeing his guest irritated from his poor excuse, a tired sigh escapes from his lungs; the old man scratching the back of his head as he admits how: “I guess the body does need a little bit of shine. I probably should work on it while you deal with the wiring.” This offer manages to break the scientist vexed gaze, Clara soon arising from the cold hard garage floor and questioning her host with: “Really?” “Yep. It’d save both of us a heap a time and trouble. Though if you really think you don’t really need help from this old bastard’s help, then you could probably-” “Oh no, no, no. I mean...if your offering, then who am I to turn ya down?” “Hee hee, I’ll take that as a yes.” Assuming such, the old man strolls to the workbench set to the side; piercing through its surface to pull out a small box. From this box, he pulls out from its depths a few tools; some familiar, others rather foreign and advance; the elder turning back to her guest with all of them in hand and state: “Right, lets get to work.”

While the day outside the garage burns away, the two within continue their determined efforts on the aged hovering vehicle; the elderly host doing maintenance on the physical body of the wagon while his guest works on the fixing and correcting the wiring and power flow. After he finishes fastening the vents perched near the back, the old man takes a quick look underneath to check on his guest; finding the young woman carefully weaving wires through and over the frame and parts making up the bottom. It all runs smoothly for the scientist so far, that is until one of the strings she runs along suddenly stops; Clara glancing over to find the wire caught between a driven in screw. Reaching her hand out to the caught piece of string as far as she could, the scientist attempts to loosen the screw so that she could free the piece of wiring; the screw stubbornly refusing to turn for just her fingers. When the young woman fails to make the screw turn even a single bit, her host ducks down beside her; taking a tool with a glowing hexagon over it and shove the hole between the screw. Once holding the screw within the hexagon, it automatically turns the piece of metal loose; the old man catching the screw in his withered hand. With the piece of wiring finally loose, Clara runs it through and connects the other end to a circuit board; the scientist glancing back to her host to give him her thumbs up.

While Clara finishes routing a couple of the power tubes towards the engine, she hears her host let out a couple of struggling grunts; the scientist glancing to the side of the car to find the elder struggling to lift a heavy part to the car. The old man can barely hold the part in his arms any longer before he looses his balance, soon tilting to the side and threatening to crash onto to the cold hard floor. Moments before he could fall, the old man feels something lift the piece of heavy metal for him; the senior catching himself and glancing over to find his guest holding the other end.

When Clara finishes connecting the wires and circuits set under the automobile, her elderly host slides in beside her with a wide piece of sheet chrome; placing the piece over the finished circuitry for cover. As the scientist holds the large sheet of chromium in place, her old host starts to wield it on with a blowtorch; the pink light emanating from the flame glistening against the reflective metal.

Hours pass as both of them continue maintenance on the old floating wagon; neither of them keeping track of the time until the last of the sunlight shining through the window fades away. Noticing this, Clara crawls out from the inside of the car and takes a peek outside the garage window; claiming to her host how: “Whoa! Sun’s already going down.” “Really? Huh, today went by real fast. Haven’t done work like that in such a long time.” “Yeah, the oil on your face sure says so.” Sliding his finger across his face, the elder finds deep black stained on his finger; the host giving his guest a small smile and claiming that: “The dirt on your face says the same.” The scientist wipes her entire hand over her face to check if her hosts rings true, finding her palm holding a massive oil stain. “Guess it does...eh...Mind if I go take a shower.” “Damned if I tried stopping you. Can practically smell your rank stench from the back of my bedroom.” “Thank you!” the scientist thanks as she rushes out of the garage and through the curving hallway. After watching his guest sprint by, the old man gazes back to the fruits of their labor; bearing site to the dusty, futuristic car. “Paula...just you wait...I’ll be done soon.”

Down from the curvaceous hallway, the fall of running water echoes throughout the entire futuristic abode; the sound soon dying down to a light drizzle until drying to a few drips. Moments later does the door to the bathroom swing wide open, the massive puff of steam from the shower escaping from within as the house guest ventures out while putting on her clothes. A satisfied sigh escapes from her smile as she dons her shirt and pants, strutting down the turning halls with her hair and skin clean and free of grim. About time the chance to get the dust and sewage smell off came, didn’t know how much longer the old nose could last having to constantly sniff all that for days at a time; it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if it started to bleed from being overwhelmed by it all. After taking in a much needed breath of fresh air, Clara lets out a deeply relaxed breath; basking in the hint of freshly cooked food drifting through the air. But thankfully, it stuck out through the whole stink ridden storm; and survived to enjoy the euphoric scent of home cooked food. The freshly clean scientist strolls out from the hallway and into the kitchen, finding a pair of dinner plates holding an entire meal of freshly baked ham, sliced and diced potato’s, and steaming ears of corn. Hot damn, all that looks so good. But why did he set up two plates?

When witnessing her elderly host waltz into the kitchen from the living room, the young woman takes the moment to question him if: “Hey, you expecting someone to come over? Shit, do I need to hide!?” “Chill out, I ain’t having anyone coming. Just thought I could whip up something as a little thanks for fixing my car. I had plenty of ham and stuff, so I thought “Why the hell not?”.” the elder claims as he sits in one of the dining table chairs. “So that’s...for me?” “Yep, now you gonna just stand there gawking at me while yer food gets cold or-” Not even a single moment passes before the young woman jumps into her seat, grasping her silverware and almost immediately digging into her dinner like a starved animal; the savage display taking her host back a bit. Watching as his guest scarfs down the ham and potato’s before her, the old man lets out a soft chuckle; making the assumption that: “Me think’s you haven’t had a good proper dinner in a long while, have ya.” Once she swallows the whole mess of mixed potato’s and ham down her throat, the young scientist lets out a satisfied moan and answers her host with: “Are you kidding me? All I’ve had to go off of in the past few month since then was almost nothing but water and canned goods. Satiating the constant hunger on a diet almost exclusively from nothing but baked beans, beef stew, canned veggies and fruit, and soups; all without any damn way to cook any of it with. The absorbent amount of raw ravioli I was forced to eat makes me wanna puke; the mixture of cheese, tomato sauce and beef; God, I don’t think I can look at even home cooked ravioli the same way again! I… I can barely remember the last time I’ve sat down and ate a fully cooked, homemade meal and not have it be mutated fruit and vegetables served by a family mind controlled by radioactive farm animals!” “Uh...thanks?”

After eating up a good chunk of the ham and potato’s set on her plate, Clara snatches the ear of corn from the edge; taking a massive bite of the kernels layering its surface. While she chews the corn in her mouth, the young woman glances to her old host to find him having only eaten a quarter of his dinner; a soft smile stretched across the mans face. “Hey, um...” Once she swallows the chewed corn into her gullet, the scientist takes a small breath before requesting to her host if: “So, um...old man?” “Just call me Winny.” “Right, Winny. I know I said this before, but I’m wanting to ask on better terms...What do you find so important about that car in the garage we’re working on?” “Why do ya wanna know?” “Well...it just seemed like you weren't all that interested in harboring an illegal immigrant who admittedly lied to you until she happen to turn that thing on. It just makes me wonder...why risk getting in that much volcanic kind of heat with the mounties just to suit up an old voltswagon?” Hearing his guest question through, the old man can’t help but let out a soft chuckle; claiming to the young woman that: “Guess you woulda asked eventually...That car I had stuff in the garage, it was a life long project that my wife and I would work on.” “Really?” “Yep. In between the time my wife had to be at home, her and I would spend our time together gathering parts to make our own dream car. Both of us were hoping by the time she could retire, we could spend the rest of our twilight years cruising the country side in it.” Finishing the last statement makes Winny’s hopeful expression slowly deflates; his host finding the tears in his eyes glistening in the kitchen light. “She never came back, did she?” “20 years...I used to rarely go in that garage now a days. I can’t bear to look inside and remind myself of what the cruel march of time and war took from me.” Having heard her host admit such a saddening truth, Clara unintentionally drops her ear of corn onto the kitchen floor; stammering to speak as she apologizes with: “I-I-I’m...I’m so sorry for that. The fact that I broke into your backyard, lied to you, and brought the police creeping on your doorstep...it was all the last thing you needed.” “Probably, lord knows it didn’t help with the nerves. But there was one silver lining that I saw in all this, it was the moment I saw the dash light up. It was like a spark of hope set the depths of my souls alight, the flames whispering that there may be still time to finish my wife’s loving project...and keep the promise that we made to each other all those years ago.” After informing his guest of all this, Winny glancing back up from his plate to witness tears falling onto her guest’s; a small sniffle drawn into her nose as Clara gazes to her host with tearful eyes. “Thank you for the meal.” the scientist snivels.

Once both of them finish their dinner, the time to turn in had come; Clara laying on the couch while her host retreats towards his bedroom. Relaxing on the leather cushions, the young woman pats her full stomach as she lets out a soothing sigh; basking the euphoric triptafen that her meal offers. God, this feels amazing. Just floating in the wave of relaxing slumber without the constant feeling of an empty stomach gnawing away the hours of sleep.

While fully enjoying the blissful feeling her dinner meal gives, the scientist tilts her head over to the side of the living room; her dreary eyes drawn to the dimly lit frame protruding out from the wall. The digital picture frame soon moves on to the next photo of the slideshow, unveiling her young host embracing a woman in his arms; the face of the young girl grasping her attention. Wait a second… Pondered by the contents of the picture presented by the frame, Clara gets her ass off the leather couch and starts to approach the frame for a better look. As the scientist edges closer to the photo of the couple, the woman’s features begin to clear themselves for her; a shocked gaze slowly forming upon her face. It...can’t be… Once she comes face to face with the photo presented in the frame, Clara pupils shrink as small as they could; her jaw left completely agap. How...this can’t be possible...How does this even begin to make any sense!? Sharing the embrace with the young Winny be a woman in armor whose features share a frightening resemblance to Clara’s own; right down to the emerald green eyes and Arabic skin tone. Why does his wife look like this, like...me. I-this-he...Just…Is that why he didn’t... Before the scientist could spiral in a panicking confusion, she takes a deep, calming breath from it all; glancing back to the frame to watch it slide to the next picture. Stay level headed Clara, there has to be some reason Winny wife looks like this. And he’s damn well gonna explain why.

Fresh right after breakfast, both Clara and Winny continue right where they left off in their work on the hovering car in the garage; the scientist messing with the wiring under the hood while her host works on the back. The young woman finishes carefully connecting two wires to install the nuclear battery to the engine; the scientist watching as the strings connected flow its power to the engine and declaring that: “Think the battery’s all set up.” Hearing his guest claim such, the elderly host finishes screwing in the final bolt to the back and states how: “All put together nice and tight. Think that just about covers all the ends. Lets climb in and see if this baby can fly.”

With the young woman’s host stating this, Clara slams the hood shut and joins the old man inside the car’s cockpit; taking a seat on the passenger side while Winny takes the wheel. Gripping the palms of his hands on both sides of the square wheel, a hope filled smile starts to form between his sagging cheeks; the elder sliding his finger towards the hand painted ignition button. Just before he could press his fingertip into its plastic, the old man discovers a hand covering the button; glancing to the passengers side to find his guest covering the start. “Um...something wrong?” he wonders. “You can say that. Got something on my mind I’ve been wanting to ask.” the young woman answers. “Well, don’t keep me waitin, spit it out.” The scientist takes a deep breath as she prepares to question her host, giving the old man accusatory glare as she finally asks: “What was your wife’s full name?”

As soon as Clara questions him this, Winny’s confused stare deflates into morbid depression; a disappointed sigh passing through his withered teeth. “So. Guess you saw the picture. Shouldn’t be surprised. You would’ve found out sooner or later.” “That doesn’t answer my question. Why does your wife look like me?” “Her name...Her full name was Paula hidai Asfour.” The last name that her elderly host drops one hell of a bombshell on her; her glare transforming into astonishment as she realizes: “That’s my last name.” “I couldn’t believe it either. How could I? That day I saw you dangling on the tree in my backyard, my heart skip a beat; I thought that Paula had returned from beyond the grave. But Amble...That mutt knew it wasn’t the miracle I thought it was. He knew my wife’s scent all too well to know that you couldn’t possibly be her.” “...Is that why you didn’t squeal on me to the mounties, cause I looked like her?” “I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them take you away. Not while you bared such a resemblance to her. It would’ve been like tearing my heart out a second time.” “What about this car. Did you make me work on it because your wife did?” “No...But that’s why I wanted to work beside you. When you helped me assemble this old wagon, I felt a piece of my soul start growing back; like it felt Paula working beside me again… But even with this old withered heart beating like it hasn’t in a long time, I knew in the back of my head that it wasn’t true; the whole thing just being a fabrication of my depressed, widowed mind. I guess I just wanted to feel like she was with me one last time, just long enough to live the dream of finishing our little project together; even if it was all just something my head made up.” Upon hearing her host lament on why he felt so strongly of Clara’s coincidental appearance, a few tears draw forth from the scientist eyes; the young lady withdrawing her hand from the ignition and asking Winny if: “Do you think it was all worth it?” “Only one way to find out.”

Winny soon glides his wrinkled finger over the ignition button, pressing his fingertip right onto its painted plastic surface; a low droning hum sounding off as he holds the start down. Both the scientist and her elderly host put their ears against the dash as the screens and buttons littering it glow alight; listening for a single sign of the engine’s spark. From underneath the hood, the automobiles engine lets out soft roar that echoes all throughout the cockpit; the old man and young lady swiftly growing excited smile across their faces. As the engine starts running, the underside of the futuristic vehicle starts to arise from the cold hard concrete; a low hum sound out from the vents as a soft green glow escapes from them. Keeping a tight hold of the wheel, tears of joy start to roll down Winny’s wrinkles as his finished project hovers over the ground; Clara holding onto the seat so as to not topple over while the car continues to rise. Calming himself down from his excited glee, the old man glances over to his passenger to find her staring out the window; her awing gaze aimed down to the cars underside floating a foot off the garage, claiming that: “I can’t believe it. We’re actually flying.” “This your first time you’ve ever been in a hovering vehicle?” her host asks her. “Pretty much, its uh...a little overwhelming.” “Figured it was...You wanna see how well one of these bad boys cruise?” “I’d love that more than anything.”

Reflecting the afternoon sun off its front, the main garage door slowly begins to rise from the concrete; the rust and dust that the years have collected on it fluttering down as the door merges with the ceiling above and lets the sunlight outside flood in. The incoming light weakly bounces off the dirty body of the hovering automobile; all of it still be strong enough for Clara to avert her eyes. Taking a tight grip on the right side of the steering wheel, the elderly host cruises past the blinding glow set before them; hovering the freshly fixed car out from the darkness of the garage and into the light outside. As they inch towards the sunlight, both of their eyes soon adjust to the heavenly glow to greet the welcoming calm of the Suburban neighborhood; the artificial, twisted homes lining the blocks seemingly blending together with the natural lush green spread between the houses. Behind all of it however, Clara lays her eyes on the nearly impenetrable iron wall that divides North America standing tall in the distance.

As Winny takes his newly suited hover car out of his front lawn, he turns to his young host and states that she: “Better buckle up. The kind of ways this old mutt can run might make up fly outta your seat.” Doing as her host suggests, the young woman quickly looks through the sides of her seat for any seat belts installed; soon finding one on the top left and quickly running it across her chest as the elder starts to drive onto the main steel road. As soon as his guest dons her seatbelt, Winny takes off through the twisted neighborhood ahead; a smile drawn on his face as he enjoys the soft purrs of the engine. While her elderly host cruises through the neighborhoods sleek steel roadway, Clara takes the chance to study how the old man operates the complex controls of the vehicle; observing closely as he keeps one hand on the steering wheel while pressing the occasional button set on the dash with the other.

When Winny takes a left turn at the intersection, the scientist gazes ahead and discovers another car hovering out in their direction; the woman frantically ducking down under the dash as the vehicle approaches. As the floating car passes by, the old man takes the chance to give the driver a friendly wave; the driver suspiciously glaring to the inside as she passes by. As soon as the driver behind them turns through the intersection, Winny glances down to his passenger hiding under the dash and claims that: “You’re all clear.” The scientist host stating this, Clara climbs out from underneath the dashboard and sits back in her seat; soon giving her host a: “Thanks for that.” As their cruise starts to take them out from the neighborhood and more into the countryside, Clara’s gaze drifts through the luscious green pastures stretching out in the distance; the site of it all being a bit overwhelming for the scientist to take. Taking her eyes away from this natural beauty, the young woman turns her eyes to her driving host; the bright, joyous smile painted across his face causing the scientist to form her own. Its in giving her smile can she not help but ponder of the photo she had discover; questioning to herself why his late wife possesses such an uncanny resemblance to her own.

Was it because of the time orb that it happened, or maybe some kind of byproduct of the timeline attempting sort things out from something that’s yet to happen? If it were just like that, then he wouldn’t know her last name; wouldn’t risk causing a paradox with this kind of prior knowledge. There might just be a simpler explanation behind all this though, there were a couple of family members that shared the same name; perhaps his wife might be from a cousin or two. Lord know’s that there’s way too many of them. That might be it. If that is the case, then his wife might just be a granddaughter of sorts. Of course, none of that is really a concrete answer, there might never really be any for something like this. Just another mystery left to drift through the chaotic river of time.

In the midst of attempting to wrap her head from the existence of her old hosts wife, she soon feels the whole car come to a sudden stop; Clara snapping back to reality to find her host having taken her to an open clear road set along in the countryside. “Uh, Winny. Why are we stopping out here?” she questions the elder. ��Cause...” Once he presses a few of the buttons on the dash, the bottom of the car starts to lower onto the road; finishing answering his guest question by claiming that: “You’re gonna get some practice in on this old wagon.” “M-Me? Are you sure you even want me to take the wheel? This car is-” “I know, I know. But I figured its the least I could do after forcing ya to fix it. Besides, might just be good for ya to know how one of these puppies handle.” Letting go of his cars square wheel, the elder climbs out from the drivers side to offer the chance for his guest to take the wheel; asking her if: “You wanna take it for a spin?”

Without saying a single word, the scientist scoots out from the passengers side and sits her ass straight into the drivers seat; the seat of the chair feeling nice and warm underneath her. After her elderly host climb in and take the passenger seat, she hears the old man first instruct her with: “Right, now keep one hand squeezing the left of the wheel while pressing the third button on your right.” The young woman does what her instructor commands and squeezes the side of the wheel while pressing the button the old man points to, soon feeling the entire vehicle arise from the shinning steel road underneath. “Good. Now slowly loosen your grip on the left of the wheel while tightening its right.” With these instructions does the scientist carefully ease her grip on the left of the wheel; reaching her hand over to the right and tightening her grip against the side. Doing as such causes the car to start floating down the road ahead, Clara reviewing to her elderly host that: “So, the sides of the wheel are the acceleration and breaks?” “Yep. Now keep it steady and stay on the right of the road.”

As the young scientist attempts to keep a steady hand on the wheel, she comes to notice the road ahead holding tight turn; Winny claiming to his guest that: “Ya gotta ease on the breaks as ya take the turn. Don’t strangle it, just easily squeeze it.” Just like her host tells her, Clara gently squeezes the left of the steering wheel as she approaches the turn; slowing the car down as it’s lead towards the curve. Once she comes to the corner ahead, the scientist starts to turn the wheel; cleanly and smoothly taking the tight curve in one fell swoop. “Hey, that’s pretty smooth for a first time. You ever driven before?” “You could say that...”

Driving beyond the tight corner, both the scientist and her old host come to find themselves nearing an unavoidable obstruction ahead; a large rapid river having split the steel road before them in half. Drops of sweat run down the young woman’s forehead as she continues hovering forward, her eyes darting to the old man and questioning: “Uh, your country’s hover cars can fly over these right?” “Only if you know how.” “And how?” Clara’s elderly host points to the set of switches set alongside the farthest side of the drivers, specifically set to the left of the wheel and instructs her to: “Start by flipping those two switch’s up. Then pull the wheel up as hard as you can.” In that order, the scientist reaches for the two switches aside the square wheel and flips both of them at once; the site of the rivers running water growing more clear the closer they approach. Right when they were on the verge of falling in the rapids, Clara pulls the wheel up as hard as her arms could let her; the entire vehicle rising from the fractured road. The floating automobile glides several feet above the flowing river, the sunlight shimmering off the water reflecting off the bottom of the car as he floats by.

Their haphazard cross over the raging rapids soon comes to a rough end once they descend upon the other side; the bottom of the car scraping against the split steel of the opposite road. As soon as the vehicle rises off the steel road, Clara squeeze the left side of the wheel as hard as she could; Winny strangling the bars planted on the ceiling. When the hover car finally comes to a complete halt, the scientist exhales an incredibly relieved breath; her entire body going slack and slumping in her seat. “Well...I’d say that turned out well for your first time driving.” “I…You’re kidding, right?” “Hardly. The first time I took the wheel, I wound up crashing sideway’s straight into a ravine; almost buried in dirt. If I didn’t have my phone on me, I’d still be down there rotting in the ground. Still, it took the mounties around five hours to dig and pull me outta there, worse of, I didn’t have breakfast that morning; so I just scarfed down the meal they gave me afterwards.” After listening to her hosts quick story, the young woman comes to hear a soft grumbling echo in the cockpit; glancing down to find her stomach letting out a low rumble. “Speaking of a meal. I’m could go for a bite myself.” “I got me some frozen pizza I could heat up back home.” “I would!...I can’t remember the last time had any decent Italian that wasn’t lukewarm canned ravioli; let alone motherfuckin pizza!”

After the duo drive back to the old man’s twisted abode, the evening sun begins to set along the west of the suburban neighborhood; the twilight glow blanketing it all reflecting off the roof’s of the homes. From within one of the metallic abodes, a prominent bell dings throughout the inside the house; the host of the home waltzing into the kitchen and approaching the a large metal box protruding out from the floor. Donning a pair of oven mitts on his hands, the elder opens the lid and reaches deep inside; pulling out a prime, fresh pizza from its piping hot depths. The deliciously steaming dish’s scent fills the entire kitchen with its combination of cooked ham, sausage, cheese, and bread; the old man’s host left mouthwatering from the smell as Winny gently sets the pizza down onto the middle of the dining table. Pulling out a small stick from a drawer left on the side, the elder presses a button planted on the bottom; causing a glowing light to form out from the top. This small pillar of light then quickly takes the form of a pizza cutter, the old man running its round glowing blade through the pizza’s cheesy surface and cutting the dish into eight pieces. Once cutting the pizza apart, the old man presses the button set on the bottom of the stick one more time; turning the glowing pizza cutter into a flat spatula. The old man swiftly slides the spatula underneath one of the cut pieces on the tray, lifting the piece from the rest of the pizza and carrying the steaming dish to the dinner plate set before his guest.

“Careful now, this piece is fresh from the oven; so don’t burn the roof of your mouth over it.” Winny warns as he watches his guest pick the piece off her plate. The freshly baked pizza in her hands, the young scientist lets out a cooling breath to blow away the hot steam emanating from its cheese. The scientist lets her mouth gape wide open as she glides the piece to her drooling maw, soon taking a massive chomp out of the piece of pizza; the melted cheese dripping back down to her plate. A soft moan escapes from her lungs as the young woman savors the heavenly mixture of bread, meat, cheese, ham, and tomato sauce that swirls in her mouth; the amazing concoction making her shutter as she tears up from the flavor. This display puts a smile upon her host face as he watches her chew the piece of pizza; Clara letting out a satisfied sigh and compliments the old man with: “God, this is so damn good. Never really thought I’d miss the taste of pizza so much.” Hearing such from the scientist, Winny can’t help but let out a small snicker and mentioning how he: “Guess that’s what a diet of almost nothing but canned food can do that to ya.”

Once Clara finally swallows the savory mixture of meat and cheese, she gazes to her host on the other side of the dining table; taking the moment of reprise to say: “And uh, I never got the chance to say thanks...for not ratting me out to the mounties.” “Don’t mention it. These past couple of days you’ve been here working in the garage have been...interesting to say the least; probably one of the most in my senior life living here. Truth be told, not a whole lot goes on around these parts; I mean aside from the occasional illegal border crossing.” he responds with, his eyes gazing out to his young host; a statement which makes Clara let out a nervous giggle. “Even if it was all just some lie that I convinced myself to believing, I’m glad I finally got to get around to finishing my wife’s dream project with you by my side. Kinda made me feel like I was working alongside her one more time.” Hearing this statement from her elderly host draws out a heart warming smile from the young scientist stuffed cheeks; watching as old man lets out a raspy, heavy breath. “Xcuse me for a sec.” he utters as he quickly rises from his seat; rushing out of the kitchen and into the curving hallway as he attempts to hold back his whimpering. The display of her host holding back such a powerful combination of joy and grief draws concern from Clara, the scientist soon taking another bit of the pizza in her hands.

Escaping out from the light of the kitchen, Winny races through the dark, curving hallway of his home; soon to reach and frantically climb the stairs set at the very end. A lone door be the only thing that sits perched atop the set of steps, the elder swiftly rushing in and slamming it shut, locking himself in on the other side of the door. Once he locks himself inside the seclusion of his own quaint bedroom with his dog, the waterwork begins to pour out from the old man’s eyes as he lets out a soft whimper; stumbling to his fluffy bed and collapsing to his knees on the side. From the center of the king sized bed, his loyal mutt crawls over to his masters side; licking the elderly’s cheek in hopes of comforting him in his time of sorrow. Feeling his canines warm tongue on his cheek urges the old man to glance up from the fluff of his bed; a small smile forming between his sagging cheeks as he pets Amble on his head. Tilting his head past his dog, Winny’s eyes lock to the lone picture frame standing on the night stand; the photo depicting him and his young wife, standing partially obsured by the glass bottle of gin sat in front of it. Nearing the lone nightstand, the elder shoves the gin aside and grabs the picture off the metal table; gazing to the frame to see a picture of him and his young wife sitting happily on the steps of their new metallic abode. Staring longingly to the photo, the tears from his eyes drip onto the bright clear screen of the frame as he says to himself that: “I did it, Paula. I made our dream project come true.”

In the midst of lamenting on his late wife’s fulfilled dream, Winny’s eyes spot flashes of red and blue glowing outside his bedroom window; the elder opening his window to catch the sirens of a couple of mountie cruisers sounding off in the distance. Realizing their alarms closing in on his home, the old man races out from the dim light of his bedroom and down the descending steps; his trusty canine companion dashing by his side.

Clara finishes off the rest of the piece of pizza in her hand, savoring the crisp crust made at the very end of the piece. As she chews the delectable bread in her mouth, her ears catch the sound of rapid footsteps coming from the twisted hallway; soon witnessing her host dashing out from its dark corridors and claiming that: “We’re in big trouble!” Jumping out of the dining table seat, Clara frantically questions with pizza still in her mouth: “W-what!? What’s wrong!?” “I just saw the a pair of cop cars heading this way! They got their sirens on, they must know you’re here!” Hearing this urgent news makes the scientist cough out whatever pizza she still has in her mouth; the pieces of wet crust falling to the floor as she frantically questions: “How did they even find me?” “One of the neighbors must’ve saw ya driven with me and tipped off the mounties. Illegal immigrant crossings are kinda frequent this side of the wall, so people around here are constantly on edge.”

Its then that both of them hear the sound of humming cars die down towards the front of the home, the screech of a megaphone soon piercing through the walls alongside someone on the other side blasting out how: “Alright, now nobody here make a scene, eh. We know you’re harboring an immigrant fugitive in there, so both of ya come out with yer hands up.” “The hover car! If we take it, we could outrace the police and hide somewhere.” Clara suggests. “You go. I ain’t comin. These old bones’ll just slow ya down.” “Wha-Hell no! I ain’t gonna leave you behind; you know what they’ll do to ya if they don’t bother shooting first?” “I know...But this withered body doesn’t have stand a single chance in outrunning the law, you’d be better off takin the old wagon yourself. Besides...I don’t think I could live with myself if I saw them gun you down; the image of my wife dying a second time before my eyes...I’d rather be dead than relive that pain.” Hearing her host claims all of this leaves the scientist utterly silent, Clara reaching for the elders before retracting his grasp when he demands that she: “Get in the car and leave me...I’m just so tired...of not being with her.” Claiming as such to his house guest, Winny lumbers over to the living room and takes his seat upon the leather couch; Amble climbing up alongside him and laying on his lap. Left staring upon the site of her host awaiting for the inevitable to come, all Clara could utter to the elder was simply: “Thank you.” After giving her host her condolences, the young woman races through the kitchen and into the dark halls; Winny left staring to the drapes outside his window as flashes of red and blue leak inside.

Once she burst through the door leading into the garage, the scientist waists not a single second getting inside the car she had just finished souping up; sitting behind the wheel and slamming her fingers tip into the ignition button. As soon as she hears the roar of the engine echo through the cockpit, she takes a tight grip on the left of the square steering wheel; pressing a couple of buttons sitting between the seats. Keeping her grip on the left side of the wheel, the young woman takes a deep breath as she stares to the garage door; the flashes of red and blue from the police sirens leaking through their windows. Taking the small moment to prepare herself, the scientist eases her grip on the left of the wheel and strangles its right; racing forward through the garage and towards the door.

Standing from behind their parked hovering cruisers, two mounties point their futuristic firearms towards the front door of the home; the one weilding the megaphone warning them that: “This is your last chance! Step out with your hands up or we’ll be barging in.” It then that both the officers witness the garage door beside the front door burst open in a mess of metal and glass; watching in surprise as a car breaks through and races past their parked cruisers. “There’s the suspect! C’mon.” one of the cops claims. “I’ll catch up.” her partner states. While the male officers partner jumps into her cruiser and race off towards their escaping perp, he stays behind and charges towards the front door of the home; beating on its face as he demands whoever is inside to: “Open this door and come out right now!”

On the other side, the withered elder could hear the officer violently pounding on the door; its metal slowly bending and cracking with each and every punch. Despite the mountie threatening to break into his home, Winny is content of sitting peacefully on his couch with Amble my his side; his milky eyes drifting to the ceiling as he utters to himself: “Paula...wait for me a little longer...I’ll be seeing you soon.”

#faded land #lillaxtrigger

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sinceileftyoublog · 4 years

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Rina Sawayama Album Review: Sawayama

(Dirty Hit)

BY JORDAN MAINZER

When it was first released late last year, “STFU!” felt like a one-off stylistic shift for Rina Sawayama. The person behind whip-smart pop songs like “Where U Are”, “Cyber Stockholm Syndrome”, and “Cherry” had released a blistering, nu metal-inspired kiss off to the microaggressive haters. “I’ve been done and been through more friends / Than I can count on my fingertips,” she sang, looking back with no remorse or regret. But in the context of Sawayama, her maximal debut studio album, both the aesthetic and the theme prove to be part of something greater. Centered around her family and her identity--as a person of Japanese and British descent, as a queer person, and as a culture-consuming-20-something--Sawayama is a remarkably and consistently personal, yet universal affair.

“I’m a dynasty / The pain in my vein is hereditary,” Sawayama belts on huge opener “Dynasty”, an Evanescence-inspired dramatic goth pop song that purportedly almost used over 250 tracks in Logic. The words “dynasty” and “hereditary”--and their follow-up question, “Won’t you break the chain with me?”--essentially get at everything she’s referring to on the album. Western colonialism and imperialism, inherited genetic and behavioral traits (namely depression and anxiety), Sawayama wants to get away from it all. But she doesn’t hold herself on a pedestal: “And if I fail, then I am my dynasty,” she declares. She then spends the rest of the album not necessarily separating herself from others, but trying to be the best version of herself she can be, by using the styles and modes of thought which with she’s familiar, even if she’s never used them before.

“XS”, for instance, a track about how capitalist excess has ruined the world, effectively inhabits over-the-top production, buzzsaw guitars alternating with click-clack pop beats and gentle strumming. Importantly, Sawayama doesn’t consider herself innocent: “Oh me, oh my, where did it go awry?” she wonders, “When all this time, heaven was in our eyes.” I think it’s the way a lot of us feel right now during quarantine realizing we’ve taken outside spaces for granted. On a similar note, on “Fuck This World (Interlude)”, she cuts through the bullshit, admitting her nonplussed attitude towards climate change: “Let’s start a new life on Mars / Forget it, let’s get fucked up.” But there’s plenty of empowerment on Sawayama, too. Standout “Comme des Garçons (Like the Boys)” sounds like an early 2000′s club banger that chides masculinity as a measure of success. “Elevate your vision when you put me on the cover,” she advises to the fashion magazine world. And “Love Me 4 Me” is a finger-snapped, hand-clapped, Ru Paul’s Drag Race-referencing New Jack Swing ode to, well, loving herself.

On the surface, the samples and cultural references--closer “Snakeskin” interpolates both Beethoven and the Final Fantasy victory song, plus dubstep--might seem random, or perhaps disparate. But when Sawayama succeeds, they truly come full circle. The best example of this is “Bad Friend”, inspired by a time Sawayama saw that a friend with whom she had lost touch had given birth. She goes on to recall a night they spent together, during which they and a group of others danced naked, in the same karaoke room that appeared in Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation, to Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe”, whose producer, in a wild turn of events, ended up producing “Bad Friend”.

The connection goes deeper than coincidence, though, as Coppola’s film has been accused of Orientalism, which Sawayama outwardly grapples with throughout the record but combats using the same pure honesty she gathers to tell her stories. On “Tokyo Love Hotel”, she doesn’t want to be like the Westerners who treat the city like a Friend With Benefits, but eventually decides that the culture is part of her: “Your fascination’s my world,” she sings. On “Akasaka Sad”, Sawayama admits that when she visits Tokyo, she stays at a hotel instead of with family, avoiding the familial depression and strife that’s plagued her all her life. Plus, you can’t help but root for her rebellious spirit on “Paradisin’”, where her mom discovered she was a groupie (her words) for a band at age 15 and threatened “to send me to boarding school for the seventh time.” “I know we can’t afford that, so I’m fine,” she hilariously sings. That Sawayama’s allergy to bullshit for both others and herself gives her all the more logos. Perhaps the ultimate, and most straightforward outcome, though, is that on an album detailing Sawayama’s struggles with identity, she achieves an artistic one rooted in genuine expression and conscientiousness.

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#rina sawayama #album review #dirty hit #sawayama #evanescence #logic #ru paul's drag race #new jack swing #beethoven #final fantasy #sofia coppola #lost in translation #carly rae jepsen

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kathyprior4200 · 6 years

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The Enigma TNG goes live

Dsclaimer: I do not own the artist, Dsyphobia, nor the songs/references. No copyright intended. Used for entertainment and promotional purposes.

From beyond the dark curtain, the noise of a crowd vibrated like a strong wind from outside. Backstage crew members were busy adjusting the overhead lights, sweeping the wooden floor, and testing the sound system. An older gentleman wearing dark blue clothing carefully lifted a black guitar from a protective black case and got to work adjusting the strings and connecting the thin black cord to a small slot at the end of the guitar. There was nothing dazzling about the guitar’s appearance; it was a simple black color with a few streaks of teal lightning snaking across the middle for decoration. After a few strums were easily heard from across the room, he gave a thumbs up to several other crew members.

Further back was an area with a set of mirrors and chairs. Professionally dressed men and women were finishing up with styling the hair of rock stars and other performers. It was the annual Indie artist festival that had started back in 2020, not that long ago. Many creators experienced difficult moments of trying to get their music across to broader audiences outside of YouTube. A few brave individuals decided to perform in person to attract more attention and enjoyment regarding their works. Even as the years went by, local artists did not get near enough money that mainstream celebrities enjoyed. For some musicians, joining labels and adhering to specific guidelines seemed the best way to go.

Others wanted to stay true to themselves and question the existing systems.

One such person was a black-haired man sitting in a leather chair, facing a round mirror. His black curly hair was currently being morphed into slick spikes by a hairstylist with short dark orange hair. A dark-skinned woman was painting a couple black streaks from below the man’s eyes with precision. The man wore all black clothing; jeans, shoes, and socks. His shirt was black in the middle with gray quarter length sleeves. Black fingerless gloves covered his hands. His usual array of chain necklaces hung from around his neck and glinted in the white circular lights from around the mirror.

“You excited, Che’z?” asked the hairstylist.

“Sure, I guess,” he replied. The back of his shirt had the acronym “TNG” in large green letters.

“You guess, huh?” the hairstylist asked. “You’ve come so far since starting your channel around 2013. I would be lucky to be in your position right now.”

“Yeah, it’s true that I have come far since back then,” he replied. “But it was not without hard work and suffering along the way.”

“Well I can understand that you are nervous about this big event. I mean, who wouldn’t be?”

Che’z was, indeed, nervous. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at his black guitar and laptop all set up and positioned toward the maroon curtains. He had only performed at a couple of local shows back in town. At a park filled with green grass and families, he figured that it would be a good place to start. The sun felt hot against his dark clothing and the dark surface of his laptop, but the brief discomfort prompted him to continue on. Before a group of people, Che’z had introduced himself and mentioned his YouTube channel, which had gone up to 1,200,000 subscribers and counting. He felt a burst of pride when he had played several of his tracks in a row. The watchers weren’t a particularly big group, but it was still satisfying for him all the same. Several young children danced and sang along beside their caregivers. A few people with a “lighter” taste in music held back. They were more familiar with pop and classical music rather than dark electronic. After the demonstration, polite applause came from the group and they soon continued on their way. No one else stayed for very long, save for a few teenage girls who had asked for his picture and autograph. Che’z peered down at the time in the bottom right hand corner of his laptop.

“Got to get ready for work again,” he muttered.

“Hey Che’z, you alright man?” asked a voice.

Che’z snapped back to the present moment. “Yes, I’m good.”

“You’re all set,” said the hairstylist after completing the finishing touches. “Good luck.” The hairstylist removed the blue cloth from around the musician’s neck. Che’z stood up, to stretch his legs, then walked toward his equipment. He stopped for a brief second.

“Thank you to both of you. Much appreciated,” he said, turning back to look at them. The hairstylist and the woman nodded kindly, then moved on to clean up the area. Che’z looked at his watch. Five more minutes until he was up on stage. Due to his social avoidance and long moments to practice, he had requested to go last. By luck, his request was followed through. Heck, he was lucky enough to have earned a spot for this festival with many other competitors. The festival aimed to raise money for education of low-income students in the area. Plus, it was a way to introduce and promote independent artists to celebrate the peak of summer.

For Che’z, the festival would not be enough to satisfy both the artists and the students in need, but at least it was a start. He was usually a patient person, except when it came to human rights. At times, he was frustrated at how long it would take for people to recognize or even acknowledge that social problems existed in the first place. Why did people only discuss the problems and put on trivial events in an attempt to “solve” the issue? He especially did not like the ignorant individuals who would dismiss others altogether and claim that racism, homelessness, and injustice were “not their problems” to solve.

‘Breathe, Che’z. Breathe.’

Che’z took several deep breaths and cleared his head of his angry thoughts. Now was not the time to let nerves or anger get the best of him. Despite not caring about fame, being able to play his music for others gave him a mental and emotional high. The show was about to begin.

He moved the cursor across the screen of his now open laptop until he found the icon for the FL Studio program at the bottom. After a click, the program opened and a list of tracks appeared to the left. Back at his home, he had organized a mixture of his new and older music together into a longer playlist. He had played it many times to figure out which songs should be introduced in what order. Singing and playing his guitar was also part of his rehearsal, but he mostly did so for enjoyment and a boost of confidence. He gazed down at his laptop again. With one click, the music would start and the night would change for everyone present.

The charismatic voice of an announcer was heard from outside. “You have witnessed a dozen participants for this festival thus far. Now for our final music composer and producer for tonight.”

Che’z opened his eyes after a silent prayer. The announcer’s voice was heard again, “This man has created songs, remixes, and fan-made tracks of nearly every genre. With this mysterious guy, you’ll never know what comes to your ears next! May I present, the one and only…the Enigma TNG!”

The cheers of the crowd reached a roaring crescendo as the curtain fell dramatically to the floor. The scene was currently dark, except for a series of white flashing lights that appeared to the sides of a large screen toward the back. A distorted demonic voice spoke through the speakers: “Welcome to the world of The Enigma TNG, where the mysteries of music become…reality!” The statement was followed by a maniacal laugh. The announcer was off the stage in a flash. Two crewmen and one crew woman quickly moved on stage and carried the thick fabric away. On the large screen, “The Enigma TNG” appeared in metallic letters. The glowing eyes of a black cat soon filled the screen. The green cat eyes faded and were replaced with the stars and galaxies of outer space. Electronic music blared as the stars rapidly zoomed out on the screen. They moved faster until exploding in a flash of light. In the back of his head, a grinning Che’z recognized the song as “Rock the Dragon,” the introduction song from DragonBall Z.

Che’z squinted to adjust his eyes to the bright lights above. The flashing lights ceased and teal light filled the area. Che’z was on stage in a large amphitheater, the sky black overhead. Rows of spotlights were positioned high above on the left and right sides throughout the area, shining light that revealed figures of people. Not just a crowd…an enormous crowd. The herd of individuals covered the entire space, stretching around to the very far back. IPhones appeared in the dark sea of people, being held by individuals ready to take pictures and record. Seeing all those faces and eyes staring at him was enough to make his hands shake. Che’z scanned around the room for any signs of familiar faces. He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted his loved ones and friends in the closed off VIP section near the front. There was his mother, his brother, several of his best male friends, and his wife, Nastassia with several of her relatives. A blush crept to his cheeks as he stared at Nastassia’s vivid blue hair and kind eyes. A smile and a thumbs up from her calmed him down instantly.

Che’z, or Enigma rather, carried his laptop to the front to a center spot between round black records and sound equipment on a sturdy table. He grabbed his guitar and moved it in an upright position to the side. He placed a pair of black earphones over his ears and adjusted the knobs in front of him. A line of security guards stood between the stage and the crowd wearing yellow shirts. Immediately, Enigma played his most popular dubstep track “Monster Killer.” The crowd danced and sang along to the lyrics. After the lyrics were sung a second time, the beat dropped loudly and smoke rushed out of vents to the sides of the stage. The crowd jumped up and down as the catchy beat filled the amphitheater. Enigma found himself moving to the beat as well.

One guy’s voice called out, “This man’s better than Skrillex!”

“I heard that, thank you!” Enigma answered through the mic.

A woman was interpreting Enigma’s songs using sign language. He noticed several people making “T”s, “N”s, and “G”s with their hands along with the “horn” rocker hand signals.

A series of video game scenes and monstrous faces appeared on the screen to further stimulate the audience. When the crowd cheered wildly after the first song, Enigma felt his nervousness fade away. Still, he pretended not to notice the camera person next to him, taking pictures. Enigma briefly imagined his favorite artists in the audience listening to his music: The Birthday Massacre band, Skrillex, and Deadmau5. ‘One day, I’ll get to meet them in person and talk about our different songs,’ he thought.

The crowd jumped and danced like crazy as Enigma’s dubstep songs blasted from the speakers. An alien green light emitted from the spotlights around the amphitheater. He watched as the songs moved up and down the playlist after each play: “Katz in Black,” “Monster Mode,” “Bass Monster,” “Disco Massacre,” “Parallel Universe,” and on and on. For the next several songs, Enigma decided to play his original mixes and covers form his DragonBall Z channel, Saiyan Enigma. This was one of the things he was best known for, having been a fan of the show for years. Whenever he finished a track, he would hear exuberant chants of “play one more!” from the audience below. Soon, he was on his seventh Saiyan Enigma track.

Figuring it was time for a change, he announced that he would play his industrial songs next. A series of groans intertwined with a rapidly raising applause. He let out a series of deep growls through the microphone as the stage lights turned crimson red. His fingers moved expertly along the strings and cords of his black electric guitar, which he had retrieved from nearby. These tracks had mechanical and guitar sounds mixed together to create intense atmospheres. They sounded like background music for action video games and science fiction films.

Through the microphone, Enigma led the singing from his metal-sounding song “Nightmare God.” Several men danced and thrashed around in a small mosh pit up front. The smells of alcohol and drugs soon whiffed through the enclosed darkened space. Enigma wrinkled his nose at the smells. He was thankful that he wasn’t into any of that. As fights broke out among the crazed singing, the security guards restrained the wild individuals up front. Images of fiery demons and medieval soldiers going into battle from the big screen behind him accompanied his industrial music. Affirmative yells rang through the area after the song ended.

When the crowd began to get exhausted, Enigma played his softer, classical music. The lights turned a relaxing blue and the screen changed to slow moving footages of outer space. The crowd was soon fixated by his trance outer space tracks. “Fantasy Blue,” “Angels and Demons,” “Evolution,” “Dimension Zero,” and “Beyond the Stars” were some of the songs selected. After several plays, Enigma looked at Nastassia and made an announcement.

“I now dedicate this next song to my wonderful wife and close friend, Dsyphobia,” referring to her online gamer username.

He cleared his throat and sang his romantic song “Mysterious Girl.” His low enchanting voice reverberated from the speakers, mixing with electronic synths and pulsing beats. Shining tears of joy crept from Dsyphobia’s eyes. There was a hum of “awws” from the audience as more pictures were taken from their phones. At the end, Enigma gave a small bow as the audience cheered once more.

Changing the atmosphere, Enigma played a series of his hip-hop beats next. The overhead lights changed to a cheery golden orange. He sang his personal songs “Speak your Mind,” along with “Broken Soldier’s Cry” with passion and emotion. The songs described his past experiences with facing racism and bullying in school. The song continued with him mentioning that Jesus Christ had saved him and encouraging the listeners to get together and fight injustice. At one time, he swore he heard his voice crack in the middle of one of the songs, but he kept going. After he had finished the final song, the crowd cheered extra loud.

“Thank you very much!” Enigma called out. “It was a great pleasure performing for all of you tonight. Until next time.”

Enigma walked back stage and breathed a sigh of relief. He found himself shaking hands with the stage crew and other individuals who were managing the event.

“Fantastic performance out there, man!”

“That was the most epic one man concert I have ever seen!”

“How did you learn to make music like that?”

Che’z rapidly answered those questions and walked out the back door, only to find a flurry of more questions aimed at him from the surrounding fans outside. They reached out their hands for him from behind the low metal fences. Many of them were dressed in Goth and Cyberpunk attire: gas masks, dyed hair, high boots, chains, and leather. Others were dressed like DragonBall Z characters.

“Can you play more DragonBall Z music for us?”

“Why do you hate country music so much?”

“Will you replace or collaborate with Skrillex and Deadmau5?”

“Why don’t you talk to your fans very often online?”

“Were you bullied due to your biracial identity?”

“TNG, TNG, play more DragonBall Z!”

Suddenly feeling triggered and uncomfortable, Che’z grit his teeth and marched quickly toward another building. His breathing became rapid and sweat formed on his forehead. Even though he loved his fans, he wasn’t the most trusting individual around. Indeed, he was very much an introvert much of the time. The sooner he could relax at home, the better.

‘2023 sure is crazy,’ he thought, catching his breath and slowing down to a walk.

Che’z then noticed a lit overhead walkway surrounded by glass that connected the amphitheater to the building up ahead. Despite the bridge in position, no cars ran under it. In fact, there was nothing beneath the bridge except an uphill of green grass, still damp from the evening sprinkler system. Che’z could have gone across the walkway if he had wanted to climb narrow flights of crowded stairs that led to the higher levels of the amphitheater. Obviously, he did not want to. The brisk night air felt refreshing against his skin after being inside for several hours.

At last, Che’z made it to the side glass doors of the brown brick building in front of him. He pushed open the doors and straightened himself up. There was one more task to do. Inside was a large pleasantly lit hall bathed in golden light from small lamps connected to either side of the walls. Toward the back of the hall, a simple brown couch and chairs were occupied by several of the previous performers from the festival. Several guys were laughing and drinking glasses of beer near one of the windows. Toward the main rotating doors was a connected row of large movable tables covered with elegant black cloth. Che’z’s albums and black t-shirts of various sizes lay in neat stacks on the left portion of the table. In front of the artists on the other side were long lines of waiting fans. Che’z scanned the room and noticed a camera person and a couple of strong security guards wearing yellow shirts nearby. He cleared his throat, pushed back his anxiety and took his place next to another performer.

Overall, the process was not as bad as Che’z had imagined. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed it very much. Not only was he getting money from his fans, but he was also able to interact with them without any pressing questions. Che’z ignored the tiredness in his right hand as he signed one album after another with a black sharpie. While he did not have as many items as the other performers, that didn’t stop the fans from purchasing his shirts and albums in a flash.

The best part of this experience was the overwhelming number of compliments he had received from his supporters.

“Your music is unlike anything I have heard,” stated a young African American man. “Your songs about race and Christianity really spoke to me.”

A Chinese woman added, “The way you mix melodies and beats together is astounding. Without your music and hilarious videos, I would still be dealing with grief over the loss of my husband from several weeks back.”

“You make Skrillex look like a pop star!” another guy chimed in, followed by some genuine laughter.

“Your music helps me when I code and play video games,” mentioned a red-haired woman in her twenties. “If any game or film wants music for their soundtracks, they should totally contact you!”

One of the comments that warmed his heart the most was from a white man also dressed in black: “Don’t listen to other people when they try to define you and your music with man-made labels. You’re too complex to be put into a box; we all are. Your hard work and your passion for what you do pays off in the end. The world needs more honest, genuine musicians like you who can help change society.” He then went on to buy a large t-shirt and all his different physical albums.

“That really means a lot to me. Thanks man,” Che’z said.

Che’z soon lost count of how many fans he got pictures with as the night went on. He was amazed at how diverse the audience was. Individuals of all ages, backgrounds, and abilities were coming to buy his music and say hello. All too soon, his table was empty. He found himself caught in a warm embrace from behind. He didn’t need to look behind him to know who it was.

“Dysphobia, you missed the merchandise giveaway,” he said.

“I have plenty of your items already,” she replied. “Besides, I was off telling a bunch of people about my gaming channel. They seemed to enjoy my walkthroughs and discussions when I showed them on my laptop.” She currently had her laptop in her backpack. The two of them pushed open the doors and walked outside.

“I’m not surprised,” Che’z replied. “With your amazing content, they would be fools to dislike your videos.”

“Same with you and your music,” she added. “You are incredibly talented and diverse.”

“And you are incredibly intelligent and beautiful,” he stated.

“Well you certainly are amazing at what you do,” she claimed.

The couple exchanged compliments back and forth all the way to their car. Nastassia got in the driver’s seat and Che’z climbed in the seat next to her, shutting the car door. From outside the window close by, dozens of people waved and took pictures with their iPhones as the car drove away. Che’z waved back, then turned back to face the front. Che’z smiled and admired the night sky from outside. It felt meaningful for him to make a small difference in the world and be a part of a higher purpose.

#musicfanfiction theenigmatng

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