STATUS:
You'd think after like 15 years I'd stop feeling like a fraud when writing posts but I still do which is both a statement on my self confidence and a compliment to how good my partners are as writers
1 mo ago
Current
You'd think after like 15 years I'd stop feeling like a fraud when writing posts but I still do which is both a statement on my self confidence and a compliment to how good my partners are as writers
15
likes
5 mos ago
Why are you talking about Final Fantasy 10 like that
5 mos ago
Final Fantasy 13 is a top five entry in the franchise but ya'll still ain't ready to have that conversation
6 mos ago
This Bears/Packers game is gonna make me believe in the power of Chicago Pope
2
likes
6 mos ago
The older I get the more I start to think BBQ potato chips are the worst flavor, actually.
3
likes
Bio
Look, I got lost on the way to getting some jajangmyeon and it'd be foolish to leave now.
@Cynder Motherfucking. My sister right here, is the jam. She's so jamming that I had to send a complaint to Smucker's for giving me jam without any bottle. So. I'm gonna, motherfucking. ship you....with...shit....@Fabricant451
Because I like you and I like butts. So why not double down.
I don't really use music as a method of clearing my head but I just turned the 'clear your head' into 'something you listen to when you're relaxing after shootin some b-ball outside after school' and the song that leapt to mind was Que Sera by Wax Tailor. There's just something inherently relaxing about smooth trip hop and Wax Tailor is certainly a professional in that particular genre. I dunno, it's just a smooth song to listen to and just kick it to. There's no shitty lyrics trying to be deep, no warbly terrible singer, just good beats and great vibes. I can dig it.
<Snipped quote by Fabricant451> Pretty much in every movie she was in that predates Plaza and Kendrick.
I mean she was snarky in Juno and Super to a lesser extent than Juno. Smart People maybe but everyone in that movie was the worst. I get what the idea was but Ellen Page is more of a dramatic actress than an out and out snarky one.
There came a moment everytime she took the stage where the background noise and ambiance no longer factored into anything. The flashing lights and the still pumping bass and beats from the speakers around her - the headphones were noise cancelling to a point - were nothing more than set dressing. She could close her eyes and not miss a beat, not miss a cross fade or a rewind, eyes didn't matter here. Of the senses only two mattered when she got into that groove - the sweat dripping down her tanned cheek, her mouth hanging slightly open - so slight that only the barest glimpse of her teeth were visible between the thin lines of her lips - her hair sticking to the back of her neck while simultaneously bouncing along her forehead - all of those were lost amidst a complete sensory blackout. No sense of sight, no scent, not even tasting the warm, salty spray of hot air and cheap cologne and perfume. The only things Licks needed was hearing and touch.
The hearing was obvious enough. Her ears needed to be alert, to pinpoint the exact moment in a song to flip it, to spin it back, to swap. A moment's hesitation or miscalculation and the song would change, the vibe would shift, and the people deep in their sixth drink and their second empty promise wouldn't even care. But Licks would.
Touch was less obvious but just as important. Her fingertips could tell the grooves of the spins, the buttons, everything that mattered she could guide underneath her fingers. The simple touch, a gentle guiding hand was needed. Too hard on the flip, too early on the get down, missing the crucial part where the rewind has to happen to keep the beat going...any number of mistakes in something as little as a touch and the only thing these people would hear would be the screech of a failed scratch and the frustrations of the night's MC. But of course Licks was a professional. She took her craft seriously, the same as anyone who wanted to excel in a field. A surgeon couldn't afford to make mistakes, couldn't afford to slack off and neither could Licks. She wasn't fooling herself into thinking her skills were harder or more important than a surgeon, only that a similar mindset was needed. The music was the patient suffering from a life threatening injury, the crowd was the family crying in the waiting room, and her fingers were the scalpel cutting into the vinyl.
At this point these grooves, these trances she found herself in were second nature. Though it was routine, Licks still got into it, giving each rotation her all, bouncing her head and throwing her body into the groove and rhythms. Her right hand was pressed against the can of her headphone while her left hand hovered over the table, ready to spin the next song like a proper jockey. It helped things considerably that she had something inside of her increasing the vibes that she was sending through the soundwaves.
How long was she at the table? It was hard to gauge the passage of time when the only watch was the start, stop, and looping of a track. A simple sample could still last for minutes and the only signal of the end was when the vibe cooled, or when Licks was tapped on the shoulder. Time didn't matter in the groove, nor did it matter when a body was being controlled by pure ecstasy. With that inside of her and her mind gone, lost to the groove, Licks felt like she could stay up there forever - guided by just her sense of hearing and her sense of touch.
But of course, Licks opened her eyes, slowly, blurry sights slowly taking tangible shape, eyelashes laying in the corners of her field of vision. Had she kept her eyes closed she might not have noticed a familiar face and had she kept her eyes close she might not have suddenly been jonesing for a refill. If only she could be so lucky.
And that was who she saw amidst the wave of faceless, formless bodies. It was hard to mistake the guy, with his red hair and rough features that could fool a naive little thing enough for one night. Licks only knew Lucky through a former acquaintance - most likely mutual - who got out of the 'business' and turned the Chinese woman onto Lucky's services. Only it wasn't mechanical needs Licks needed from him and he respected the down low, respected the chill between dealer and customer. Having a rapport with her dealer was second nature - it was a way of ensuring a down on their luck dealer didn't blab to the press in a tell all.
Not that she suspected Lucky would do that. He didn't seem so malicious.
The music didn't come to a stop, but Licks knew how to slip away just long enough to fulfill her own needs. It wasn't the most professional thing in the world, but her plan would take no longer than five minutes, plenty of time to put on some filler track and conduct her business. Spinning her vinyl as she removed it, ending her own personal mix, she swapped to the second table, flipping on a new track,
And as soon as the music began, Licks was gone, slipping away from her stage and down into the ocean proper. It was like swimming with sharks, only instead of teeth and a natural predatory instinct there were bodies, sweat, and a different sort of predatory instinct. Licks kept her head down, making her way through the crowd by doing what came naturally to those around her. Shaking her hips. Swaying her body. Dancing with her legs and her arms, her eyes locked on her destination. The red hair acting like a guiding star on the dance floor.
The problem was that the red haired Lucky was not alone. But that wasn't going to stop Licks from doing what she came all the way over to do.
"LUCKY!" she called, having to raise her voice to match the music, "LUCKY!" if the mechanic didn't hear her she wouldn't blame him, not just due to the music but also from the dancers on either side of him. They didn't look professional, as in hired, which only seemed odd due to there being two people who would tolerate the guy to the point of not saying a damn word about his lack of shirt. "YOU KNOW THERE'S A DRESS CODE, RIGHT? I SNAP MY FINGERS AND SECURITY'S ON YOU FASTER THAN A VIRGIN IN A BROTHEL." Licks continued to speak, cupping her hands around her mouth. Hardly the ideal setting for a conversation, but at least it was more audible here than up where she was working.
"HOW'D THEY LET YOUR DEGENERATE SELF IN HERE ANYWAY?" She asked with a teasing grin, eyes darting to the two women that appeared to be hanging on him or on each other - it was hard to tell. "AND HOW MUCH LIQUOR DID YOU GIVE THESE LADIES, LUCK? ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU LOOK DESIREABLE, EH?" Licks was not above a bit of banter, it was mostly in good spirits. Much more chill than one of her last dealers who assumed jokes meant Licks was wearing a wire even after months of shopping. "IF YOU'VE GOT A MINUTE, THOUGH, I COULD DO WITH SOME...SKITTLES, YEAH?"
The first step in any successful business relationship was ensuring both parties spoke the same language. There were virgin ears - virgin to the club drug scene anyway - no need to let them suspect anything other than a perky Chinese girl wanting to taste the rainbow. If only candy was what Licks had in mind.
Ratatat has a lot of songs and I don't really care for the majority of them and honestly if you asked me straight up why this one, of all of them, makes me smile I don't think I have the best explanation. It's just...it's just one of those songs that I listen to and can't help but to crack a smile inbetween the bobs of my head. It's catchy without really being earwormy - probably because of the lack of lyrics - and it's a rather simple song. But the simplicity is what makes it so damn infectious and chill that I can't help but to smile whenever it comes up in rotation on any of my playlists. I can never just listen to it once.
I suspect future days will have more involved posts but honestly not a lot of songs make me happy because I am a miserable person so congrats Ratatat, I don't like most of your shit so this is high praise
All things considered, Nicoletta could not have imagined a better outcome. Honestly, she expected the worst - the cold shoulder, being ignored, and silently mocked for the next four years. And yet not only had her rather awkward introduction gone over well, she had just gone on a little ride on a ferris wheel of all things. With the same person she had been so worried about being judged by. It certainly helped that she, that is Allie, seemed to enjoy herself - unless it was just standard operating procedure for Floridians to hop in ferris wheels witl...relative strangers.
No, Nicoletta was chalking this up to a successful interaction and, hopefully, the start of some kind of friendship thing. Maybe high school wouldn't be so bad, maybe others were as agreeable and nice as Allie had been.
But the question was heavy. What next? It was difficult to answer, what next...it came with certain...connotations. No, of course it didn't - there she went again over thinking, over analyzing, instead of just going with the flow, instead of just focusing on the present. The here and now. It was day one. No need to try and force some sort of friendship all at once - they had four years together there would be plenty of time for bonding and friendship bracelets and whatever it was they did.
"You know...it was really cool meeting you, Allie, I dunno if I said that already..." Nicoletta's words were sounding less and less strained - a side effect of being generally comfortable around a hopeful friend. "I know I'm not, like, a long time resident or anything but...if you need a tour guide or something...you can text me?"
The question was punctuated with Nicoletta taking out her phone, ready to swap numbers even without the go-ahead. "Or like, call or whatever, I pick up..." No, that was too much. Still, that was proper procedure, right? Friends stay in contact. That's what was next.
People were trickling into the carnival proper, which meant two things. The first was that the people running the games were coming out of their shells and actually running the game tents (though she wondered how many would notice a few stolen prizes?), and the second was that students would be arriving. Students who, for the most part, might well be shocked by Cass - and not just because her hands were holding 'earned' prizes and a constant shit-eating sneer. It wasn't all that long ago that Cass was sporting brown hair and potential.
Still, she welcomed the change and the glances that came with it - from the people who didn't know her to the people who were soon going to wish that they DIDN'T know her, it was all good with her. But the main thing with the students flocking and hovering around the carnival was that someone was going to become an unknowing and unwilling fence. What the hell was she going to do with a balloon animal tiger, some stuffed Minions and animals, and some cheap ass fake tattoos? Cass was a generous sort, someone else would probably appreciate all this shit - probably some uncoordinated person who was trying to impress someone. Cass could swoop in, dump a load of shit in their hands and be on her way. Like a damn cupid or something.
The trick then was finding the right sort of person. She had people in mind, not individuals but the general type. Someone weak looking, someone stammery, a fellow Freshman, someone who would be overwhelmed and afraid and- "Hey Cass, stealing again? Would mommy or daddy approve?"
Cass paused, placing the voice to the person before spotting the face. Jacob McKinnon, Jakey-Wakey, a familial and not entirely unwelcome face. A cute face, too, if Cass were being honest - though that was more to do with it also being a forbidden face. Of course, a lot could happen over the course of a year let alone four and if Cass was a gambling girl she'd put odds on there not being a picture of Jakey and Whats-Her-Name in the yearbook under 'Longest Couple'.
"You gonna tell on me, Jakey? You're too clean-cut cutie to turn rat like that. Besides, what moms and pops don't know could fill the fuckin' Grand Canyon." Cass snickered her response before tossing a little brown bear over to Jacob. "Here, give that to your stick-in-the-mud or whatever. Tell her I gave it to you as a sign of my undying love for you. She'll love it."
Another snicker, a bit more sinister in tone, sounded before a third party joined the little conversation - and this one cause a rather deliberate eye rolling from Cass. "Doing a lotta starin' there, Maz, I'm starting to get the wrong idea here," A pause as her piercing eyes glanced back towards Mazdak, ignoring his little references and makeshift taunts. "Or maybe it's the right idea with those would-be 'fuck me' eyes."
For a moment, Cass considered tossing a stolen prize towards Mazdak but decided against it, only because he didn't seem the type to appreciate it. Not like Jacob or some patsy. "I'm surprised you even know who Billy Idol is, what are you like fuckin' forty?" If Cass were the type to get offended she might have been now, clearly she was going for a more riot grrl-Holly Golightly-meets-Sex Pistols-type vibe, not some Billy Idol blonde...oh...of course, because of the hair. Cute.
"What you want, Maz? Window shopping? Or maybe you're lookin' to join Jakey and I in a bit of a Freshman Fun. You, Jakey, me, rockin' a ferris wheel carriage or somethin?" Cass was already laughing, in her mind the things she was hinting at were hysterical - and not entirely fabrications.
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