#Scrum: Balls to the Wall
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DeAngelo Jackson and Michael Boston
in Scrum: Balls to the Wall (RSS, 2022)
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DeAngelo Jackson
Scrum, Balls To The Wall (2022)
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Change Your Ticket (Part 2)
Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)
Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,514
[Part 1]
_________________________________________
“Come on Cass, come on Cass,” you mutter to yourself, stealing a chip from Feyre’s plate of nachos. It’s only the plain ones left, hidden under the mass of other chips doused with cheese sauce and meat, but you need something to gnaw on while you watch the Stars game intently.
You’ve already peeled the label off of your beer bottle and drained it, rolled a balled up wrapped from a straw until it was debris in your fingers, but the nervous tension as you watch the game is almost too much.
You hadn’t been able to make it this weekend, wanting to work on some freelance projects you’d lined up and wanted to get ahead on. Cassian had been disappointed when you spoke to him earlier in the week, but you knew you would be too distracted by him if you flew out there and wouldn’t get any work done.
Now, you’re equally distracted, in the full bar filled with loud Stars fans, cheering and chanting and screaming as the evening grows later and the clock timer winds down.
It had been a brutal game thus far, and the Adriata Sealions are one of the Velaris Stars’ biggest rivals. There had been an injury by one of the team’s top players, Azriel Teller, and the grim silence that had taken over the bar at the sight of it had been harrowing.
He’d managed to limp off of the field just fine, Cassian’s body tucked beneath his arm for support. Hopefully it was nothing more than a rolled ankle or a bruised bone and he would be back on the pitch for the next game, but the harsh scowl on his face as he’d been led into the locker room is not one you ever want to be on the other side of.
Rhysand Cunningham, the team’s captain, had done a well enough job of keeping the Stars players in line, forcing the team to channel their protective energy back into the game instead of chest bumping the players on the other team, trying to egg them into a fight.
“Hello?” Feyre draws out, waving a chip in front of your face. You jump in your seat, ripping your gaze from the TV hanging above the bar. You and your friends, Feyre and Mor, are settled at a high-top table against the back wall. The pub is crowded, stuffed full of fans with Stars jerseys and star-shaped crowns on their heads. You’re wearing a t-shirt with Cassian’s number painted across the back, and you catch sight of similar jerseys, blaring the number 15. It makes you bite your lip to hide your smile.
“What?” you ask, realizing they’ve been talking to you the entire time your eyes have been glued to the match. The Sealions are a tough team, having gone undefeated thus far in the season. If the Stars manage to beat them, this will be great news for both the team and the city. “What we’re we talking about?”
“I didn’t know you were so into rugby,” Mor snorts over the rim of her martini glass. No beer for her during these types of things, your friend is too high maintenance to drink the bitter ale you’re downing anxiously.
Cassian’s lack of a lucky charm being at the game with him tonight shows. He’s not aggressive as he normally is, seeming a little distracted. His teammates are getting frustrated, clapping him on the shoulder in what might be support to the crowds viewing, but you can see the tightness of his mouth, the difference in his posture as he settles into the scrum to fight for the ball.
You shrug, sheepishly, motioning to the waitress who passes by your table for another drink. “Sorry, I just got caught up.”
“Caught up in Cassian Bailey, more like,” Feyre teases and you blush like you’ve just spilled your secret to your best friends.
“As if you haven’t been in love with Rhysand Cunningham since he was named captain of the Stars,” you bite back playfully, tossing a half-eaten ship her way. She squeals, swatting it away from her, laughing with you.
It’s true. Feyre had had no interest in Rhysand Cunningham until he was positioned captain of the team. She hadn’t even been that big of a rugby fan at all, not until you all but forced her and Mor to start watching the games after your first date with Cassian. They’d been a little suspicious of why you suddenly became so interested in the Velaris Stars, but you marked it all up to trending photos from the team photoshoot they did with Vogue.
Feyre’s wearing a jersey opposite yours, a purple shirt with a white painted number four on the back with Rhysand’s last name across her shoulders. Your shirt is black with white print and stars on the shoulders.
“What? He’s so hot,” Feyre swoons, pressing the back of her wrist to her forehead as she falls back against the cushy booth seat. The three of you laugh, clinking your glasses together in a toast when the waitress arrives with a new glass of beer for you, removing the old one from your table with a soft smile.
“They’re all so hot,” Mor pouts like she’s suffering anytime she looks at the TV. She sat with her back to the game, so she didn’t have to watch, because watching sports makes her feel grimy, but even she is wearing a purple shirt with a glittery star on the center of the chest. It’s not official Stars merchandise, but you’ll take it nonetheless. “But I prefer my men in suits.”
“Like the owner of the team?” You giggle and Mor gags. She brushes her hair off of her shoulder with a flick, red lipstick sticking to the rim of her martini glass as she plucks the toothpick with the olive out of her glass, throws the liquid back, and stuffs the fruit between her parted lips.
The pub goes wild and you realize you’ve taken your gaze off of the match for too long and the Stars have scored. You bounce up and down in your seat as the replay comes on, showing one of the team’s players tossing the ball backwards to Cassian, who slips through two of the competitors’ bodies for the try. The action puts them in the lead with only five and a half minutes to spare.
“Hell yes, Cassian!” You cheer, high-fiving the older gentleman next to you whose cheeks don two painted violet stars. Even the locals go wild in support of the team while they’re playing in another city; flags wave outside of pubs and homes, jerseys of all kinds as far as the eye can see, even the stadium parking lot is filled with tailgaters and parties, barbeque and brews. “That’s my boy!”
“Your boy?” Mor scrunches her nose and you fight to keep the redness you can feel crawling up your neckline to your cheeks. She sighs, continuing, “Why can’t either of you like actors or something. I feel like we have nothing in common anymore.”
Feyre shakes her head, “Five years of forcing us to watch The Holiday House and we still don’t think Helion Spellcleaver is cuter than Kallias Storm. I can’t believe you still won’t give this up, Mor. It’s almost insane!”
The Stars miss the following conversion and it’s the Sealions turn to attempt to score. There are only a handful of minutes left, and it’s looking pretty good as the timer inches lower and lower to zero. The match cuts to a commercial when the ball gets stuck in a ruck and the teams have to reset.
You’re about to reenter the conversation, but the ad that come on the tv as the announcers cut away is one you know all too well, and have teased Cassian about since you’d first seen it. He stands in his uniform, bottle of beer in his hands. There’s a lime tucked into the neck of the bottle and the volume is too low for you to hear over the sounds of the patrons in the bar, but you know the commercial by heart.
He's saying how he feels like he’s on a beach when he drinks the beer, and as he takes a sip, he appears on a beach right as an opposing player was about to tackle him. He looks around in surprise and his shirt is ripped off by a phantom wind. A dollop of sunscreen falls from the sky and a nearly naked woman walks by, handing him a pair of sunglasses.
You can’t help yourself, pulling your phone from your back pocket to snap a pic of the screen. You then take another one of yourself with your beer and open both in a text and send it to Cassian along with the message: Not fair, why isn’t mine doing that?!
Sending it off whilst biting back a grin, you raise your glass with the rest of the patrons at the bar as the ad comes to a close. Then, with Cassian, everyone in the bar shouts the slogan together. “Drink until the stars go to bed!”
“They’re on two completely different levels,” Mor is arguing when you tune back into the conversation, a cheesy smile on your face. She’s tapping a red painted nail on the tabletop. “Sure, Kallias Storm is hot in a blatant kind of way, but Helion is like a God, or something! Have you seen—”
“Yes, of course we’ve seen it,” you press, cutting her off with a roll of your eyes. Mor has forced you to watch every single one of Helion Spellcleaver’s movies. Sometimes more than once. In fact, there hasn’t been a movie night you remember when he wasn’t in any of the movies she’d picked to watch. “And yes, we think he’s hot, I just personally feel like Cassian Bailey is hotter.”
You can’t wait until he’s back in town next week. You miss him deeply, even though you had the chance to go and see him for his match tonight. Sometimes, the long distance can be hard, when your days are filled with work and his with practice, matches, and press. There are days you aren’t able to speak, texts gone unanswered until the late hours of the night.
It’s then that makes it all worth it, hearing Cassian’s voice before you go to sleep. Without fail, he calls you every night when he’s away, all settled into the hotel and sleep paints his voice groggy. It comforts you more than he knows, hearing his voice. Even if he somehow manages to fall asleep during one of your many unimportant stories about mundane things, the even breaths heard through the phone are a lullaby themselves.
“I still think the hottest man is Rhysand Cunningham, if anyone is keeping score,” Feyre adds with a slight smile.
“Oh, whatever. We can have this conversation for hours,” Mor waves her hand dismissively, then uses it to shoo away the man who’d been walking past your table who had stopped to ogle her. Or maybe he’s trying to work up the courage to talk to the woman, but the look of concentration—or perhaps it’s constipation—on his face. “Go on now, I’m way out of your league buddy, and not at all interested.” Your jaw almost falls to the floor at her abruptness, but the man nods and quickly disappears. Mor turns back to you and Feyre. “Is this game almost over by the way? I’m getting a headache from all of the beer and screaming.”
“You haven’t even had any beer, Mor,” you point out and she cuts you a look.
“I know that, I just hate the smell. How can you both drink that piss?”
You and Feyre share a glance, as if deciding who is going to take this question that she certainly doesn’t want the answer to. Your shoulders fall, and Feyre’s blue eyes brighten. You’ll answer, then.
“I was hoping it’d transport me to a tropical vacation,” you responding longingly, staring into the glass of ale. “Maybe if I drink it until the stars go to bed, it’ll work then?”
Mor shoves out of her seat with a tut. “You’re incorrigible, (Y/N).”
You raise your glass, smirking at your friend. “I aim to please.”
Mor stalks off to find the bathroom while you and Feyre giggle, turning your attention back to the TV. The game is back on and there’s only a minute left now, but the Sealions still hold the ball. Their team is smart and their wall of players is strong. It barely looks like the Stars are affecting them, with the skill in which they pass the ball back to their next in line as they race towards the Stars’ goal line.
“Oh fuck,” Feyre mutters, watching as intently as you.
You’re chewing at your lip, staring at the screen. Most of the conversations happening in the bar have gone quiet, every patron on the edge of their seat as they watch what will be the final play of the game.
You catch sight of Cassian who is trying to steamroll his way to the ball, but the Sealions are all in unison with their plan, and the player tosses the ball to the next, who barges past Rhysand and across the goal line.
“Shit,” you agree, slamming back the last swigs of your drink.
If the Sealions get a conversion, they’ll win the match.
The player who is going to kick the conversion sets up the ball, eyeing the goal. Once it’s perfect, he stands, taking a few steps back, gauging the distance. His fellow teammates watch on, while the Stars ready themselves by the posts, eager for him to miss.
The Sealion’s player charges and kicks the ball with a wicked arc that sadly, soars right through the goal posts.
The entire bar rattles with disappointment, curses and shouts filling the room, along with a simultaneous screech of chairs being shoved away from tables as people rise to pay their tabs and leave. Your heart sinks in disappointment, knowing how upset Cassian will be with this outcome, and even more so when he returns to his empty hotel room.
The camera cuts in close on the Stars players, heads hung and consoling each other as they make their way to congratulate the Sealions. Cassian and Rhysand have their arms draped over each other’s shoulders, talking with their head bowed. You’re positive Azriel Teller is kicking himself for being injured and taken out of the game, too.
“Why the long faces?” Mor asks, plopping her purse on the table before sliding back into her seat. She’s clearly ignored the grumbling and now grumpy Stars’ fans that are starting to close their tabs and wallow on the way back to their homes. A few of the regulars seem to be straying to drown their sorrows in a few more glasses of beer. “Did Helion Spellcleaver walk in here and I missed him?”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
Change Your Ticket Taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy @starsinyourseyes @jdeclerc @indiedash
#cassian#cassian x reader#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#cassian au#rugby!cassian au#rugby!cassian#acotar au#change your ticket
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six of crows x the locked tomb au concept?
I feel like this is a fairly narrow crossover area but I've been obsessed with both lately and I wanted to throw shit at the wall and see what sticks. Pretty sure there's no Nona spoilers, since it's a crossover AU. I don't know how many people have read both of these series but to hell with it someone must have done lmao. This is less plot and more concept but anyway
Kaz (the Ninth, for the tomb and all that was lost, Heretical Secrets, The Sewn Tongue. The Reverend Son out of We Have No Young People Left process of elimination.)
If Kaz is going to be any house it's got to be the freaks with the elaborate black costumes and the constructs that have no flesh on them (lucky for Kaz...), that tell people fuck all about anything and have scary customs.
Jordie died in the pursuit of lyctorhood; @bloodbroox just suggested to me that he could have been talked into being Pekka's cav without knowing what he was getting into, and then was killed and consumed so Pekka could ascend, so Kaz is now out to get up to that fucking Mithraeum and kill Pekka himself.
I imagine Kaz has a very similar backstory to the one in the books, since it's not like there's a shortage of corpses in this series hh. Probably tried to save Jordie and got left in the aftermath with his corpse and many, many others. I wonder if I could pull in a very literal appearance of the River... maybe Kaz interfered and briefly got stuck in the River (i.e. nearly died) before he clawed back out, out of sheer insane willpower.
(Yes you can tell I don't entirely understand the more scientific aspects of TLT just go w it lmao)
No one dares to point out to Kaz that some rando with no necromatic skill cannot kill a Lyctor, because they're worried he might acc find a way. He's literally only a badly trained cav, but he's... determined. By the time everyone else works out he's the one to get rid of it's too late.
(Matthias, Kuwei and Inej, well trained and courteous cavs, are eventually horrified to find out how Kaz fights lmao.)
I'm not sure how he'd have broken his leg but there's a lot of perilous bits on the Ninth. Maybe training. It just makes his cover better though. How could he be the cav, he's clearly the necro...
No he's not. He's being covered for by...
Jesper (the Fourth, fidelity, facing ahead, The Hope, The Sword Ninth)
Jesper escaped from the Fourth because he and his dad didn't want him to get sent onto the battlefield to be a living weapon and then die, like most Fourth house kids. He got caught, and got thrown into the Ninth house jail. He emphatically insists he is not a necromancer. Yes he is.
Kaz springs Jesper from the Ninth jail and makes a deal with him; they'll swap. Kaz isn't a necromancer and Jesper is, but Kaz will pretend to be the necro, Jesper will pretend to be the cav, and they both get what they want-- Jesper can be a cavalier and be free from jail/the Fourth, and Kaz can get out of the Ninth and into the scrum of attempted lyctorhood to hitch a ride somehow.
(Except they don't. because Jesper flat-out refuses to kill Kaz and ascend and Kaz is hysterically furious, because his original plan was to basically trick Jesper into doing it wrong and seize control of his body, but he got attached and abandoned that plan and now doesn't know what to do. Having said that, if anyone could figure out perfect lyctorhood, it would be Kaz... Hope you want brown eyes Jesper.)
Yes his offhand is a revolver lmao
Inej (the Fifth-- tradition and debts to the dead, the Heart, the Watchers over the River.)
Cavalier, ofc, very very dutiful to her necromancer (one of her saints in the books??? Alina? Petyr? idk.) We don't know a whole lot about the Fifth but they seem (SEEM.) the most well adjusted of the lot, instead of the fucking balls to walls crazy Eight and Ninth lmao. I considered making her Kaz's cav but the idea made me want to throw up and lie down for ten hours, also the Jesper one is a bit more out there, and I refuse to give Kaz that much power lmao he needs to be a normal man he'd be too much of a menace with any kind of magic
Respectful of the Ninth and their weirdo monks until Kaz and Jesper open their mouths and reveal that not only do they talk, that they are also really really annoying and heretical
She works out very quickly that Kaz and Jesper are running a con and gets roped into it lol
Again I refuse to eliminate her backstory so it's gotta be in there somewhere, though I haven't worked out how yet. Perhaps she wasn't always part of the Fifth House, and was under Tante Heleen's thumb off-world...
Nina (the Third, for the gleam of a jewel or a smile, The Mouth, The Procession, The Shining Dead. Princess of Ida.)
But of course. The house that looks frivolous but is a deep well of backstabbing politics and intelligence.
Necro with a particular talent for flesh magic, which obviously is very close to her canon power. Not sure who her cav would be tho...?
Kaz hates her for all of those reasons and she makes a sport out of winding up the little uptight Ninth weirdo
But it's not as fun as flirting with...
Matthias (the Second, discipline, heedless of trial, The Strength, The Crimson Shield)
Second sounds like the Druskelle, no? Matthias is def a carefully trained cavalier, I would suggest Jarl Brum is his necro. Until he gets either killed or disposed of before he can kill Matthias and ascend...
Unless he DOES do that, and we keep Matthias dead in every universe. Sorry Nina. You and Kaz now have a common goal which is Get To The Bastards In The Sky And Kill Them.
Wylan (the Sixth, for the truth over solace in lies, the Reason.)
Genius little kid like Palamedes ig! I can see him being more into the theory than the practice and then, like canon, being underestimated. like a lot of the Sixth. Jesper def thinks he's nothing special until... he is.
I did consider putting Kaz in the Sixth soley for the truth over solace in lies but ultimately Kaz belongs in the horrible places like the Ninth and the Barrel, not the civilised academic environments like the Sixth and the merch Districts. Sorry bud. Another life.
No one really knows in the Sixth that Wylan can't read, bc he covers it up so well, but Van Eck threatens to expose it so he legs it to the Lyctor Convention <3
Kuwei can be Wylan's cavalier? Might explain the Jesper beef more lmao if Jesper is also a supposed cav trying to curry favour with Kuwei's necro, Wylan, rather than 'his necro', Kaz
(Giada also suggested that Alina can be Alecto and the Darkling can be John tho I'm not going all the way there other than to say Kaz Would Definitely Open The Tomb Because The Darkling Said Not To because he's an evil little git and also fatefully nosey and possibly bc Inej asked. And a lockpick. why would I put him in the place with the locked tomb without expecting the funniest possible outcome. also that would def make Zoya one of the OG lyctors a-la Mercymorn! Probably Genya and David too)
#the locked tomb#six of crows#gideon the ninth#grishaverse#kaz brekker#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#nina zenik#wylan van eck#matthias helvar#shadow and bone#my post#long post#my aus
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@afrogayz
DeAngelo Jackson and Michael Boston
in Scrum: Balls to the Wall (RSS, 2022)
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Request:
Please do a Tai smut I miss that big friendly giant x
FOLLOW YOUR INSTINCTS
S3 | Tai | 3100+ words | @mrsbsmooth
As requested. But it has a plotline!
Fun Fact: Calling someone an egg in NZ is very common and is a harmless / endearing insult. Similar to calling someone a sausage.
__________
“Ref!” Matiu yelled, getting right up in the ref’s face. “Come on! Are you fuckin’ blind? They’re collapsing the scrum!”
The ref took a step back, clearly a little frightened. He nodded and blew his whistle, calling the penalty.
“That’s how it’s done” Matiu whispered to him.
Tai frowned. He looked up at the clock. Twenty-two seconds left in the half.
16-16.
“Go for the line, go for the line” Matiu whispered.
“What? No! He’s gotta take the two!” Tai whispered. “There’s no guarantee they’ll make it over the line. And the front row are so tired, a line break’s pretty much a guarantee.”
Jared, his halfback, looked over, and Matiu motioned for him to go for the line. He furrowed his brow, and played the ball, only for the other team to intercept it, break through their defensive line, and go flying up the other end of the field to score a try. The kick followed, and the scoreline updated.
Fuckin’ called it. Tai thought, frustrated.
"Fuckin' shit." Matiu raged, kicking the grass, scowling at everyone and no one in particular.
16-22
The clock wound down, and the buzzer rang out.
Half-time.
The teams both headed into the sheds, and Tai followed, clipboard and notes in hand.
Matiu was already shouting at them by the time he made it in.
“Alright, alright, shut up, shut up” He called. “Mikey, two of those tries have been on your wing. Sort your shit out. Front row, none of your faces are pretty enough to worry about losing teeth to a knee knock. Wrap their legs up.”
Tai looked around the disheartened faces of the team. They didn’t need to be ripped a new one right now.
He smiled at Jared and Mikey, who immediately knew what he was about to say.
“Front row, you hear that?”
The team beamed at him. Tai’s voice echoed around the locker room as he started. “To the windowwwwwwwwwwww”
“To the wall!” The team called back, as Tai did a slut drop, twerking hard, making the boys crack up laughing. They joined in, dancing, singing, and hyping up as best they could, despite their exhaustion from the difficult half. An entire locker-room of sweaty rugby players all dancing to Get Low.
As he finished hyping them up, and they settled back to rehydrate, looking far more relaxed. Matiu pulled him aside. He lowered his voice, the wrinkles on his old, old face pronounced as he frowned at him.
“Tai, we spoke about this. You've got a very, very high football IQ, but you need to get serious. If you’re ever going to make it to coaching a national team, you can’t be so buddy-buddy with the boys. You’ve gotta step up, mate.”
Tai sighed. “I know. I know.”
"It's called leadership. Your instincts for it will mature, with time." Matiu clapped him on the back. “How about you take over for the second half? You need practice. Plus, I think I need to sit for a bit.”
Tai nodded and made his way back out to the field. He went to fill up his water bottle, but saw a commotion on the side of the field. The ref was lying on the ground, hand on his leg, which was quite obviously twisted at an odd angle. He rushed over, joining the crowd to see if he was okay.
“He managed to trip over a rogue footy, and went flying. Fuckin’ egg.”
Tai chuckled softly and looked down at who’d said it. A petite, pretty blonde, covered in piercings. He smiled at her, and she winked at him.
Damn.
Matiu made his way out, practically tripping over the ref, and panicking. “Are there any other qualified referees here?”
Blonde metalface put her hand up. “Yeah, I can ref if you want.”
Tai’s eyebrows raised, and he smiled at her wider.
Matiu frowned. “Anyone else?”
She frowned back. “Mate, I’m NZRL qualified.”
“Still prefer someone a little…. er… more experienced.”
Tai looked at Matiu, knowing exactly why Matiu didn’t want her refereeing. Part of the generation that thought girls could only be vaguely interested in Rugby if their dads or boyfriends were.
“Bro” he said, disapprovingly.
Everyone was frowning at Matiu. He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Tai glanced down at Metalface. “Sorry about him, ref. I’m head coach for this half.”
She glared at Matiu, then back at Tai, and said nothing, just turning on her heel and making her way over to the office to change. Tai picked the ref up, helping him into a chair, and followed Matiu back to their side.
*****
Later, in the Rugby Club’s bar.
16-34.
Every. Single. Fucking. Call.
Tai was meant to be the one coaching. He was the one meant to be dealing with the Referee. Matiu had gotten up in the ref’s face for every single fucking call. But, to her credit, Metalface didn’t seem intimidated by him whatsoever.
The calls that had gone their way, he’d been freaking out so much about what Matiu had said, he’d completely gone against his instincts, and made the play he thought Matiu would make. Matiu nodded at him approvingly after every one, but it backfired. Every. Single. Time.
“I swear to god I’ll have her fucking stripped of her license” Matiu said, taking a large, frustrated gulp from his beer.
“Come on, bro. A lot of that was me making bad calls. Besides, this game didn’t matter for us anyway. We’ve already made it through qualifying. It’s not that big of a deal.” Tai sipped at his, pensively.
Matiu drained his. “Fuck it. I’m too old for this shit. I’ve told you time and time again that you need to take this more seriously. You’re as thick as your neck, Tai. What fuckin’ good are you if you don’t even have the balls to rip the Ref a new one when they deserve it?”
Matiu stood, grabbing his keys from the bar, and shook his head. “See you at practice, assistant coach.”
******
Tai sat quietly for a little while, mulling over his beer. He hated this part of the job. The part where he had to not be himself. Where he had to yell at people. To pull it together and act all professional. Should he start showing up to games in a suit, like Matiu? He loved walking around in his training jersey. It made him feel like he and the guys were on the same side. He got them. He knew them. And he knew how to help them win. He didn’t get why everything had to get more complicated than that.
Just as he was finishing his beer, he saw her. She was on the other side of the bar. He called the bartender over.
“Oi, Jimmy, her beer's on me. And give us another one, yeah?”
Jimmy poured two pints, one in front of Tai, and went over to Metalface, dropping the pint in front of her. She looked up, surprised, and Tai tipped his glass at her, nodding an acknowledgement at her, before taking a big sip. She chuckled, and walked directly over.
She’d changed out of her Ref’s jersey, and back into her denim shorts and t-shirt combo. She placed the drink in front of him, and chuckled.
“What’d you put in it?”
Tai’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“What is it? Piss? Cyanide?”
He chuckled. “Nah, didn't have time. Unfortunately just beer.”
“Well, if you’re anything like your other coach, I’m not drinking it.”
Tai frowned at her. “It’s more of a sorry. Matiu was pretty awful. And a thanks for picking up the game for us.”
“Yeah, but if the game had been cancelled, it would’ve looked much better for your for-and-against scores at the end of the season.”
Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that.
“Shit. You’re right.”
He smirked, and picked up her glass, pretending he was about to walk off with it. “I just need to take this to the bathroom for a sec.”
She cracked up laughing, and he grinned at her.
“I’m Tai, by the way.”
“Maddy. Good to know you’re not gonna lose your shit like the other one.”
“Yeah, not my style. I’m not gonna rip you a new one just because we lost.”
“Mmm. That’s a shame.”
Tai glanced down at her, and raised an eyebrow.
Was this on? He got a gut feeling this was on.
"Ahhh, you referees. You just can't get enough of me. Throwing games on purpose just to get my attention."
Maddy laughed loudly, "Yep, that's exactly what it was. You got me. You losing had nothing to do with your shitty coaching calls."
“I knew it. It was all your fault. You were just riling me up.”
“Yep. You got me. Wanted to get you a bit angry. See if you would 'rip me a new one'”
Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down.
Oh yeah, it's on.
*****
It was only about ten more minutes before he had Maddy up against the wall in the locker rooms. He lifted her t-shirt, letting his hands glide over her waist, the smell of the locker room shower gel filling the air. She must’ve showered after the game. He’d always hated the smell of it. but on her, it smelled incredible.
She had her hands in his hair as she kissed him, pulling the hair tie out of his ponytail, as she pulled his jersey over his head. She bit her lip as she admired his shirtless body, running her hands over his tattoos, her lip ring disappearing invitingly inside her mouth as she bit it. He leaned down, kissing where it had disappeared, and she moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He raised an eyebrow. Maybe…
He tested his theory, bringing his mouth to her ear, flicking one of the many, many bars there with his tongue. She gasped into him. He growled his approval into her and kissed down her neck. Her bra was strapless, so he reached behind her, unclasping it, wondering if his theory was… yep.
As soon as she slipped her bra off, he saw them. Nipples pierced.
“So, the piercings are where you like to be kissed, hey?”
Maddy’s mouth curled at the sides in an amused smirk. “You’ve got good instincts.”
He winked at her, drawing one of her nipples into his mouth. He had to basically crouch down to do so, she was so much shorter than him. But as he flicked his tongue gently over the metal bars, the reaction she gave made him literally not care whatsoever. He switched to her other breast, gently kissing it, letting his tongue trace around the bar, Maddy’s lips parted, her breath heavy as he did.
Tai grinned to himself, as he dropped completely to his knees. He deftly undid the zip on her shorts, slipping them off her legs with her underwear. He could already see the small bar between them. Clit piercing.
He liked Maddy.
He chuckled, and grabbed her ankle, lifting her leg over his shoulder. He brought his lips to her, tracing his tongue over the bar, gently kissing her clit. She jolted underneath him, and he pressed harder against her. He looked up, eying the distance, and judged the ceiling as being high enough to do what he was about to do.
He lifted her other leg over his shoulder, taking her full weight, and stood, sliding her up the wall until he was standing at his full height, his face between her legs.
She squealed slightly, her arms reaching out to press her hands against the ceiling. “Oh my god, don’t drop me.”
He pulled back, kissing her thighs. “I’m not gonna drop you. You weigh like, nothing.”
Her t-shirt was lifted almost all the way up to her chin, but other than that, she was completely naked. She was completely exposed to him.
He continued to work his mouth against her, and she relaxed, being able to do absolutely nothing except let him do what he was doing. Her hands were in his hair, and he groaned into her as she started to pull it. Her moans started to build, and his tongue found its rhythm against her.
“Oh my god, Tai, fuck, yes.”
He groaned into her as she pulled his head harder against her, his tongue pressed against the small bar, as Maddy went completely silent. Her mouth fell open and her eyebrows furrowed as she came against his mouth, her legs clamping around his head as he rode her through it. She tapped his head to release her, and he set her down gently, but she wasn’t done with him yet. Maddy dropped to her knees, and reached her hand into his shorts, pulling his cock out with almost zero hesitation.
“Oh mad, twinsies” she smiled. She ran her tongue along his own very intimate piercing.
He stuck his tongue out slightly, biting it, the cheeky gesture making her smile.
She stuck her tongue out fully in return, showing off her tongue piercing, and he shuddered as she ran it along the underside of his cock. He planted his hands on the wall behind her, and she took his tip in her mouth, the gentle suction of her mouth making Tai groan with pleasure.
She worked up and down him, and he watched her with great interest, eventually dropping one hand to the back of her head. She pulled back, swirling her tongue around his tip, paying special attention to the piercing at his sensitive tip.
He pulled her head back, and reached down, lifting her to her feet. She watched with anticipation as he reached for his wallet. He pulled out a condom, and rolled it on.
“Fuck you’re tall” she laughed.
“I’m not tall. You’re just short. Maybe that’s why you missed so many penalties. Couldn’t see.”
She scoffed with laughter, and he smirked at her. He sat on the bench behind him, pulling her toward him, and she straddled him. He angled himself toward her, and she groaned as she lowered down on top of him.
“Oh fuck, Tai, yes”
Fuck she felt good.
He kissed her hard as she rode him, his hands on her toned, tight ass, pulling her against him. His enormous hands all over her, his arms wrapped around her. He spread his legs wider, desperately trying to fuck her as deeply as he could without hurting her.
“Fuck, fuck, you feel so good” She gasped “Fuck, I’m getting close again”
Tai stopped, holding her completely still. Then, his hands under her ass, he stood, pressing her back against the wall. She looked wildly at him, her eyes wide with need as she tried to push her hips against him. Finding herself completely at his mercy, she groaned at him with disapproval.
“You gave us bad calls on purpose” he whispered, raising an eyebrow at her.
“I was only joking” she groaned, trying to rock her hips against his. “Come on”
He withdrew from her, a cheeky smirk on his face, only giving her the tip of him. “Admit it”
“Tai, come on, fuck me”
“Admit it.”
“But it’s not true!” She groaned, laughing.
“Do you want to come again, or not?” He asked, playfully.
The cheeky grin on his face made her laugh. He wasn’t serious. He was just fucking with her. She grinned, and then screwed her nose up at him in disapproval.
“I did it on purpose, Tai. All the calls. I did it on purpose so you’d lose.”
“I knew it” he chuckled, as he bent his knees slightly. He thrust up into her, hard. His hands were completely splayed on her, pulling her against him as he thrust into her. He tortured her, watching her tits bounce with each thrust, as again, she could do nothing except allow him to hold her legs open while he fucked her, her arms around his enormous shoulders, hands twisted in his thick hair.
“Fuck, yes, Tai, yes, yes”.
Her mouth opened, and her head pressed back into the wall as he fucked her into oblivion, knowing his piercing would be pressing on her G-spot each time he passed it. Her moans were perfectly timed with it, and she seemed to be shuddering each time he thrust into her.
“Fuck, Tai, I’m coming, I’m coming”
He groaned as her walls gripped his cock, trying to hold onto his rhythm for as long as he could. She felt so fucking good. So fucking tight.
As soon as she inhaled again, he dropped her legs, and turned her around, pressing back into her from behind, the change of position allowing him to pull her on and off him with the depth he so desperately needed. Her hands were pressed against the wall, and it was only a few more thrusts before he followed her off the edge. She rocked her hips back against him as he came, his fingers gripping her hips tightly as he groaned. They were a tangled mess of sweat by the time he’d come down from it. He leaned over the top of her his hand on the wall, careful not to put his weight on her, and she giggled.
“I thought for sure you were about to stick it in my ass”
He laughed heartily “Damn, didn’t realise that was an option”
“Well, you said you were going to rip me a new one, so…”
“Ahhh, next time then.”
He pulled out of her, discarding the condom, and she turned to face him. She started redressing, but paused. “What do you mean, next time?”
Tai grinned at her. “Well, it’s quarter-finals next week. And if our regular Ref’s out, they’re gonna need a new one.”
Maddy laughed “Oh, and here I was thinking that was you saying you were gonna call me.”
Tai wrapped his arms around her, tilting her chin up, and kissing her. “Can I?”
Maddy wrapped her arms around him. “I dunno. I don’t want to seem compromised if I do end up reffing for you.”
*****
“Sub Mikey out. He’s lagging.” Matiu hissed.
Tai shook his head. “No. Mikey plays for thirty minutes each half. The lag only lasts for a minute. He’ll get his second wind in a sec, and he’ll–”
Tai’s voice was drowned out by the crowd, who cheered Mikey on as he went flying up the sideline to put the ball down over the line for a try. Tai motioned to the field, demonstrating his point.
As soon as the other team got the ball, though, one of the other team seemed to get straight past Mikey and run all the way down the other end to score a try.
Matiu smiled smugly.
But Tai saw it. Mikey had been held back by one of the other team.
“Ref!” Tai called “Obstruction on twelve!”
Maddy nodded at him, and went to confer with the sideline judges, who agreed, overturning the other team’s try.
Matiu stood silently, his mouth open at the scoreboard.
44-6
“I don’t get it. This referee hated us, last week.”
“Mmm. Funny that.” Tai laughed.
“Did you talk to her?” Matiu said, his eyes sparkling.
“Yep”
“D’you rip her a new one?” He beamed.
Tai smiled at Maddy, who overheard the comment. “Nah. Not yet. But I told her I was gonna.”
Matiu looked prouder than Tai had ever seen him. “See, this is what I wanted to see from you, Tai. It takes real initiative to go and handle it like that. Big guy like you, I’m sure you talked some sense into her.”
Maddy overheard that one, too, and Tai could see her shoulders shaking a little with laughter. She glanced over at him, and he winked at her.
“Oh yeah, for sure, mate. Just had to trust my instincts”
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Fifa street 2 ps2 rip
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All the more reason to look forward to FIFA Street. If it were proper football rather than the American version, it would probably fly off the shelves in this country. You can play four-versus-four with points awarded for interceptions, jostle to catch random balls hurled up the field by three quarterbacks, or chase the ball-carrier in an effort to give your created player a taste for blood.įronted by MTV's Xzibit and featuring a slick, cinematic story mode, it's a quality package. There are even some bonus challenges that seem to be based on training exercises, which are most welcome additions to last year's relatively straightforward game. Multiple laterals, trick plays, blind passes, effortless showboating. NFL Street packs each match with the kind of thrilling stuff you'd be lucky to see just once or twice in a whole season of the real thing. Gamebreakers can be powered up in two stages, depending on how flamboyantly you play, and the level two moves are hilarious and unstoppable.Īnd because they're so difficult to earn in the first place, no opponent is going to feel too cheated by having to sit back and watch your men rip his team apart under computer control. Running on sponsors' posters earns extra credit for your Gamebreaker meter, which is where the game really loses all connection with reality. If you're running out wide, with an impassable scrum of players ahead of you, use the wall to soar over the top. The biggest change is the ability to use the walls around the playing area - it's possible to run up and along them, like in Prince of Persia, to gain a height advantage when throwing or catching the ball. When you're attacking, pass or run are the only choices you should have to make.Īnyway, if you do know about American football, or are prepared to learn the hard way, this second instalment is a significant improvement over last year's version. Combined with the market-leading AI from FIFA Soccer 08, FIFA Street 3 delivers animations and ball control that enables you to take complete control of your players with a responsive and intuitive control system.
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On defence, all you really need to know is whether your men are going to rough up the opposition or hang back and wait for the pass. FIFA Street 3 ps3 iso, Download game ps3 iso, hack game ps3 iso, dlc game save ps3, guides cheats mods game ps3, torrent game ps3. Our suggestion to EA is this: drop the playbook entirely, or at least have some means of letting the computer take care of it all in the background, like in a FIFA game. If not, NFL Street 2 won't leave you much the wiser. If you already know that stuff, then fine.
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The Tutorial mode enables anyone to just pick up the controller and start scoring touchdowns, making big hits or even running up walls.īut try explaining the merits of deep zonal coverage versus man-to-man defence, or how to read the opposition's line, or when to blitz, or what all those little playbook arrows actually mean. More than anything, it's the reliance on a playbook that puts the best parts of the game out of reach to an audience that wasn't brought up on the finer tactical points of the real thing. For example, if you want to win by five goals then choose "Head Start 4+" so that you will only have to score one goal to win.But there's little here that could make us recommend the game to anyone who isn't already a dedicated fan of gridiron sims. Go to "Head Start" and set it as desired. Go to the "Game Modes" screen, then choose your team. This usually works about 85% of the time and requires some practices. However, your player will already push it over the keeper's head and into the net. It will say that the move is blocked, and the goalie will rush to the floor. When you are close enough, perform the advanced move. Most angles work, but it is best to run at him straight on. To make an easy goal with this move, you must be near the goalie and running. Note: This trick requires the advanced move where you hold L2 + R2 and press the Right Analog-stick Up/Right. If you do not have any nearby teammates, just hold Square when the ball is in the air to shoot. In the middle of the pass, hold Square to usually confuse the goalie and score. Before you catch the ball, pass it to a nearby teammate. While facing one or two other players, do an over the head beat. Successfully complete Rule The Street mode to get 150,000 BH and unlock all rewards (venues, tops, bottoms, shoes, and players). Normal sized playersĪt the main menu, hold L1 + Triangle and press Right(2), Up, Down(2), Left, Right, Left. All apparelĪt the main menu, hold L1 + Triangle and press Right(2), Left, Up(3), Down, Left to unlock all apparel. At the main menu, hold L1 + Triangle and press Left, Up(2), Right, Down(2), Right, Down to unlock all venues.
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“I Don’t Trust the People Above Me”: Riot Squad Cops Open Up About Disastrous Response to Capitol Insurrection
by Joaquin Sapien and Joshua Kaplan Feb. 12, 2021
U.S. Capitol Police officers deploy pepper ball guns to defend the Capitol against rioters who breached the building on Jan. 6.
Interviews with 19 current and former officers show how failures of leadership and communication put hundreds of Capitol cops at risk and allowed rioters to get dangerously close to members of Congress.
The riot squad defending the embattled entrance to the west side of the U.S. Capitol was surrounded by violence. Rioters had clambered up the scaffolding by the stage erected for the inauguration of President Joseph Biden. They hurled everything they could get their hands on at the cops beneath: rebar, plywood, power tools, even cans of food they had frozen for extra damage.
In front of the cops, a mob was mounting a frontal assault. Its members hit officers with fists and baseball bats. They grabbed at weapons slung from the officers’ waists. They unleashed a barrage of M-80 firecrackers. Soaked in never-ending streams of bright orange bear spray, the officers choked on plumes of acrid smoke that singed their nostrils and obscured their vision.
One officer in the middle of the scrum, a combat veteran, thought the rioters were so vicious, so relentless, that they seemed fueled by methamphetamine. To his left, he watched a chunk of steel strike a fellow officer above the eye, setting off a geyser of blood. A pepper ball tore through the air over his shoulder and exploded against the jaw of a man in front of him. The round, filled with chemical irritant, ripped the rioter’s face open. His teeth were now visible through a hole in his cheek. Blood poured out, puddling on the pavement surrounding the building. But the man kept coming.
The combat veteran was hit with bear spray eight times. His experience overseas "was nothing like this,” he said. “Nothing at all.”
Over the last several weeks, ProPublica has interviewed 19 current and former U.S. Capitol Police officers about the assault on the Capitol. Following on the dramatic video of officers defending the building that House lawmakers showed during the first day of the impeachment trial of former President Donald Trump, the interviews provide the most detailed account to date of a most extraordinary battle.
The enemies on Jan. 6 were Americans: thousands of people from across the country who had descended on the Capitol, intent on stopping Congress from certifying an election they believed was stolen from Trump. They had been urged to attend by Trump himself, with extremist right-wing and militia leaders calling for violence.
Many of the officers were speaking to reporters for the first time about the day’s events, almost all anonymously for fear of retribution. That they spoke at all is an indication of the depth of their frustration over the botched response. ProPublica also obtained confidential intelligence bulletins and previously unreported planning documents.
Combined, the information makes clear how failures of leadership, communication and tactics put the lives of hundreds of officers at risk and allowed rioters to come dangerously close to realizing their threats against members of Congress.
In response to questions for this story, the Capitol Police sent a one-sentence email: “There is a multi-jurisdictional investigation underway and in order to protect that process, we are unfortunately unable to provide any comment at this time.”
The interviews also revealed officers’ concerns about disparities in the way the force prepared for Black Lives Matter demonstrations versus the pro-Trump protests on Jan. 6. Officers said the Capitol Police force usually plans intensively for protests, even if they are deemed unlikely to grow violent. Officers said they spent weeks working 12- or 16-hour days, poised to fight off a riot, after George Floyd was killed by Minneapolis police — even though intelligence suggested there was not much danger from protesters.
“We had intel that nothing was going to happen — literally nothing,” said one former official with direct knowledge of planning for the Black Lives Matter demonstrations. “The response was, ‘We don’t trust the intel.’”
By contrast, for much of the force, Jan. 6 began like any other day.
“We normally have pretty good information regarding where these people are and how far they are from the Capitol,” said Keith McFaden, a former Capitol Police officer and union leader who retired from the force following the riot. “We heard nothing that day.”
For the members of the riot squad who formed the first line of defense on the Capitol’s lower west terrace on Jan. 6, the lack of information could not have come with higher stakes.
Thrust into the most intense battle of the insurrection, the roughly two dozen officers bought lawmakers crucial time to scramble for safety. For about 100 heart-pounding minutes, they slipped and skidded across a stone surface slick with blood and bear spray, attempting to hold their ground against a rampaging mass of thousands.
To many of them, it felt like no one was in charge of the Capitol’s defense. All they could hear on the police radio were desperate cries for help.
At one point, the combat veteran was forced to stumble back from the line, his face so covered in bear spray he could barely see or breathe.
When he came to, a surge spilled over to his south. The crowd pushed over several bike racks. He realized the unfathomable had happened. His squad had lost the line; the mob could now enter the Capitol. There was no choice but to fall back. The officers stumbled over blood and debris until they were pressed against a limestone wall at the rear of the terrace. The mob had them cornered.
The officers, drained from their standoff, found a narrow staircase leading to an entrance of the building. But it could fit only one officer at a time. So they took turns climbing it as the crowd closed in, screaming obscenities and threatening murder.
“You fucking faggots!” one shouted. “You’re not even American!”
Waiting to climb the stairs, the combat veteran feared the worst. “This is where they’ll find my body,” he thought.
https://www.propublica.org/article/i-dont-trust-the-people-above-me-riot-squad-cops-open-up-about-disastrous-response-to-capitol-insurrection?utm_source=pocket-newtab
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03OCT2020 Edited for B7 stuff: long dream.
Orac was hidden in the outhouse out the back of my current flat, on the sink with his key resting on him. I slid it in and told him that the crew were in danger and they needed his help, so he did something through tariel cell magicology and saved them all. Only, turns out, it screwed up the timeline and now we had to go and fix it. Avon, Blake, Vila, Gan and I took an old coal train (driven by Lenny from The Simpsons) up a mountain, through thick pine forests and over old stone bridges, up to this place where we would spend the night on our journey to fix the temporal anomaly Orac had created. I sat up in the enginehouse while Blake and Avon clung to the boiler. Vila hung between the engine and coal carriages looking moody and deep, the cool mountain air ruffling his hair as we sped along in the fading evening.
Along the way, Avon (in his studded leather outfit) alighted the train and ran ahead to this strange little wicker outpost in the forest that was not much larger than a toilet block. There, he killed the inhabitants (who had done nothing wrong but, I knew he reasoned, but we should not be allowed to see) and then covered the bodies and the wall with the toilet signs with a wicker screen so that when the train passed this building, we wouldn’t know Avon had been there.
At the top of the track, we spent the night in this pastel blue fibro house where we had to hide all these things from Vila. Because of Orac’s fix, the Vila we had with us was from this alternate timeline where people had died and things had been lost (idk what exactly - stupid things like frying pans and pillows). So I locked the cat in the bathroom while Blake and Gan cleared the house of things that Vila shouldn’t see. Avon got annoyed with Blake when he found a single fishbone on the floor from the cat’s dinner and went off about how that could ruin the whole plan and put us all in mortal peril.
Then the whole dream cut to a series of clips between the Flight Deck and the White House. I was watching an old video of Avon and Vila from their university days. It started with Avon and Vila (with other randoms) on stage singing and dancing to something and then cut to a black and white image of them with Lyndon B. Johnson and Hank from King of the Hill on the lawn outside the White House (the video being filmed through the iron fence).
This scene morphed into them playing football on the lawn with Vila in the middle of the scrum with lilac face paint on. He ran back to catch the ball, backed up into the fence, and the ball caught him on his chin. He yelped and swore “oh, fucking mouth guard”. How rude, Vila.
The dream briefly changed to this really awful edit of Avon on the FD with a giant pink guitar. It was real life but also a video - his hand was strumming behind the guitar like the editor got the layers mixed up and his mouth was a poor edit of someone else’s mouth singing. His whole look was like those horrifying puppets from the Land of Confusion music video (this scene came up once before in my dream, I recall, and even asleep I hated it).
The dream changed one last time, back to the stage, where a concert was in full swing. Avon and Vila were performing as part of their degree, with Avon at the front of the stage in his leathers and S3 Liberator gun pack, Vila on a levelled stage upstage SR in his soft blue tunic & gunpack. The crowd was SCREAMING. Vila was clapping and singing while Avon was doing some sick moves, breakdancing. He did that move where a dancer falls to his side, one foot up in the air, and then bounces up, and then dived into the crowd who BARELY caught him and surfed back to the stage. The camera panned over the crowd and everyone was standing less than a metre apart in tidy lines. We (who? me and Blake??) joked that this is what mosh pits were like in the eighties and I wished they were the same today.
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DeAngelo Jackson and Michael Boston
in Scrum: Balls to the Wall (RSS, 2022)
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Three futures - The Playboy
So what happens to James, Lauren, Kerry and all the gang after Shadow Wave?
Robert Muchamore has written three stories, depicting alternative futures for James and Kerry set in the year 2031.
Las Vegas - October 2031
James Choke sat at the end of an emperor-size bed. He was in a 53rd floor penthouse suite with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked coloured lights stretching five kilometres along the Las Vegas strip.
James would celebrate his 40th birthday in less than two weeks, but his personal trainer kept him in shape. He looked fit, dressed in boxers, with slicked back hair with touches of grey down the sides. He’d look even better when he put on the $80,000 hand-cut silk suit, and diamond crusted Rolex resting on the duvet alongside him.
“Why are you showing off?” James asked, as he looked round at a stunning blonde, whose head poked out between a mound of pillows and cushions.
She was James’ current girlfriend, a twenty-two-year-old cowgirl called Sue Loewe. Her voice was high and her accent came out of East Texas.
“I had your baby,” Sue said bitterly. “If you love me you should marry me.”
“I’ve been through four wives and four divorces already,” James said, trying not to lose his temper as he pulled his suit trousers up his legs. “That’s enough marrying for one lifetime. Now are you getting dressed for the opening ceremony or not?”
James ducked as a couple of velvet cushions spun angrily across the room towards him.
“Four wives and four hundred girlfriends,” Sue shouted. “But there’s only ever been one woman you loved. So why don’t you walk down your precious red carpet with her?”
James buckled his trousers and crawled up the bed towards Sue. She’d come to Vegas to compete in a rodeo, with model looks, an athletic body and the enormous breasts that had drawn James’ eye when he’d pinned on her runner-up rosette for the steer wrestling competition.
“This is the biggest night of my year,” James said. “The dress you’ve had made costs more than most cars.”
Sue hissed, “I want your time and attention, James. Not dresses. Not cars. Not money.”
James thought about trying to kiss Sue, but he didn’t have the heart. He’d been through enough women to know this relationship was in its last stretch: Sue would head back to her mother in Texas with the baby. She’d lawyer up and settle for a few million dollars a year in child maintenance. James would make sure his infant son wanted for nothing and fly him into Vegas for some daddy time two or three times a year.
“My chopper will be here in twenty minutes,” James said calmly, as he rolled off the bed. “I haven’t got time to fight with you right now.”
“You’re a greasy arse,” Sue shouted, as she grabbed a glass tumbler and lobbed it at his head.
Wives and girlfriends had been throwing stuff at James for years. He ducked expertly, leaving the glass to smash against the wall behind him. Then he grabbed his shoes, watch and the rest of the clothes off the end of the bed and made a swift exit through double walnut doors into a grand hallway.
The hallway was more than thirty metres long, with a chequerboard marble floor. The cleaning lady pushing a big scissor-mop acted like she’d heard nothing, but the black-suited bodyguard standing by the lift showed no such reserve.
“Your life would be a lot simpler if you could learn to keep your dick in your pants,” Bruce Norris said.
James grinned - as well as being James’ bodyguard Bruce was one of James’ oldest friends.
“The day I give up womanising is the day I give up breathing, Brucey Boy.”
Bruce shook his head, showing disapproval, tinged with jealousy. Bruce had toured the globe and won three ultimate fighting belts, but he’d now put wild days on the road behind him and lived a quiet life in a Vegas suburb, with three boys and a wife who worked as a croupier in one of the big casinos.
“I had a call earlier,” Bruce said, as James handed him a jacket so that he had free arms to pull on his shirt and bow tie. “From your oldest sister.”
James looked shocked. “Lauren! What did that fruitcake want?”
“She’d got a meeting in New York tomorrow. Said she’s passing over Vegas and asked if her name could be added to the guest list for tonight’s opening ceremony.”
“What did you say?”
“I checked with Kerry. She didn’t seem to have any problem with it.”
James was slightly irritated. “Lauren’s my sister, why didn’t you check with me?”
“You were out of contact,” Bruce said, raising one eyebrow. “Sharing the executive washroom with that hot Russian translator.”
“Oh her,” James said fondly. “Did you get her number by the way?”
“Lauren or the Russian?”
“The Russian.”
“I’m your bodyguard, not your pimp,” Bruce said tetchily. “We’d better get up to the helipad. Kerry will barbecue your balls if you’re late.”
...
Debbie Shan was the on-screen reporter for the local Vegas television station, but the gala opening of Choke Grand Plaza Casino was national news and even though she was on home turf, she felt out of place in the press pen outside the massive new casino, jostling with more famous faces from major news outlets from around the world.
“OK, Debbie,” the bearded cameraman said. “Take it again from the top.”
“Was the last take no good?” she asked.
The cameraman gave a reassuring nod. “Your take was fine, but with all this hullabaloo we need to get a couple down to make sure we can edit out all the background noise.”
“Right,” Debbie said, as she pushed her hair off her face, then switched to the more careful tone she used when speaking to camera.
“Twenty years ago, two newly married Stanford graduates drove from San Francisco to Las Vegas. But James and Kerry Choke were no ordinary honeymoon couple. James was a card shark, intending to use his maths skills to win big on the blackjack tables. Kerry was a smart young businesswoman who’d already made her first million from an online shoe store she’d set up while still at university.
“Over the last decade-and-a-half the Chokes have become the biggest thing in Vegas. Starting with the purchase and turnaround of the tiny run-down Boulder Gate Casino, the Choke Corporation rapidly became a multi-billion dollar business empire comprising casinos, hotels and sports teams that now stretches from the ownership of James’ favourite Premiership football outfit to the first ever mega-casino built in Beijing.
“When the Chokes’ marriage broke down, James’ affair and eighteen month marriage to movie star Kate Porpoise catapulted James to celebrity status as he entered one of the most gossiped about relationship in Hollywood history. Despite two more whirlwind marriages in the past five years for James, and Kerry settling down with new husband Paul Hartt - the couple have remained close friends. James and Kerry continue to work successfully as business partners, and in bringing up their three daughters.”
“Tonight we’ve seen wave after wave of celebrities from the internet, films and music arriving for the opening of Choke Grand Plaza, which Kerry Choke claims is the biggest and most glamorous casino anywhere in the world. The casino hotel has over 7,000 suites, 50,000 square metres of gambling space and an 80,000 seat stadium for the Choke Corporation’s newly instated Las Vegas Knights NFL team. What’s more I’m told we’re going to see more than seventy million dollars worth of fireworks go up in smoke before the doors of this colossal new gambling palace open to the public on the stroke of midnight.”
Debbie paused for a long breath, then looked away from the camera. “Was that OK?”
The cameraman nodded. “Perfect. I think we had the noise under control, but we’ll do it once more just to be sure.”
...
Lauren Adams had arrived at Vegas airport more than three hours earlier. Her hair was a tangle, she wore ripped jeans and dirty canvas pumps. Her only luggage was a small canvas holdall containing a computer, basic toiletries and a couple of changes of underwear.
With a title fight on at one end of the strip and a new casino opening at the other, Vegas was rammed. She’d had to queue more than an hour for a taxi at the airport, followed by 90 minutes through gridlocked traffic.
Even then, the driver couldn’t get within a block of the Choke Grand Plaza. The temperature was touching thirty, even though it was past 10pm and Lauren had to fight through the crowds who’d come out to watch the fireworks, and get a first peek at the latest Choke Corporation casino.
Lauren found Las Vegas tacky and revolting. The Choke Grand Plaza comprised four sixty storey towers clad in fake marble and gold leaf. The building had all the subtlety of a kick with a steel-toe capped boot and to make the place even worse, the rooftop penthouse complex atop the tallest tower was shaped like a giant NFL football. Lauren also spotted well-disguised cranes, suggesting that the Choke Grand Plaza wasn’t quite as ready for it’s grand opening as her brother and ex-sister-in-law would have liked the public to believe.
Still, Lauren was late and her associates had been working on her plan for months, so there wasn’t time to stand around gawping at the gaudy monstrosity. If getting to the casino had been a scrum, she was elevated into much classier surroundings as soon as Grand Plaza security blipped the VIP pass that Kerry had sent to her mobile.
“Mrs Rathbone,” an oily little guard dressed in casino uniform said, as he raised a velvet rope to let Lauren into a hotel lobby with a five storey atrium, giant waterfalls and chandeliers the size of a mini-van. “I’m Keith Selway, head of security in tower three. You should have called us when you landed, we had a driver waiting for you at the airport.”
Lauren felt gutted, because when she thought about it she even remembered Kerry saying something about a limo pick-up.
“I didn’t even know James Choke had a sister,” Selway said, as he led Lauren towards the elevator. “You must be very proud of him.”
Lauren smiled awkwardly. “Oh, I’m so proud.”
“Do you see your brother often?”
“It’s been a few years,” Lauren said. “But our children are quite close. James’ three daughters holiday with my brood in Sydney most summers.”
“You live in Australia?”
Lauren nodded. “My husband’s Australian. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get to my room and change as quickly as possible. I can’t really step on to the red carpet looking like this, can I?”
As Lauren spoke, Selway tapped away at a touch-screen computer. He read something before looking up.
“Your phone should operate the lift automatically, there’s no need to check in. As requested, Kerry Choke has arranged for a selection of evening wear and jewellery to be delivered to your room, with her compliments. Simply wear whatever outfit you prefer and the rest will be returned to the shop. A parcel also arrived for you today, and it’s been placed on the desk in your room.”
“Excellent,” Lauren said.
The elevator opened directly into a huge room that was a good deal more tasteful than the building’s exterior. Selway made a great fuss, hoping to earn himself a tip by showing Lauren everything from which button raised the Jacuzzi bath out of the floor, to the electric massage function built into the lounge chairs. In the end Lauren handed over $10 just to get him out of the door.
As soon as Selway was gone, Lauren looked quickly at a clothes rail with half-a-dozen designer dresses on it. She picked one without much thought, along with matching white shoes. She took far more care over unwrapping the small parcel on the desk. It contained a set of screwdrivers and wire cutters, plus a thumbnail-sized wireless modem.
Lauren knelt under the desk and unscrewed the faceplate on a computer network socket. The socket was a standard network port, but when Lauren pulled the cable a few centimetres out of the wall she found the point where the device linked into a fatter optical cable. This cable linked to the hotel’s main network hub and would enable a hacker with suitable passwords to gain high speed access to Choke Grand Plaza’s central computer system.
Between the copper and fibre optic cable was a transponder box that turned electrical pulses into optical ones. Lauren opened its plastic clamshell case and inserted the tiny modem. After crawling out from under the desk she picked up her phone and told it to call Gareth.
“Gareth, I’ve fixed your device into the hotel network,” Lauren told the phone.
“I just saw the connection pop up on my screen,” Gareth replied, sounding a little arrogant. “I’ve been sitting here waiting. I said I’d need an hour to get the job done, but the ceremony starts in less than half that.”
Lauren sounded cross. “Kate’s people asked me to do this as a favour. I’ve got four kids to look after back in Australia, so be grateful for what you’ve got.”
Gareth grunted before hanging up.
Lauren felt anxious as she crawled out from under the desk and screwed the faceplate back on to the network socket. It felt wrong abusing her relationship with James in order to make a political point, but although she still loved her brother it had been years since she’d really connected with him.
Kerry had always kept James grounded, but Lauren felt her brother had given in to his baser instincts when they’d divorced: womanising, gambling and partying. And while James constantly complained about press intrusion, he secretly seemed to revel in his bad-boy-billionaire profile.
...
“Daddy!”
Gwen Choke was 11 years old and still got excited when she saw her dad. James lifted her off the ground as he hugged her. At 13 and 15, Sarah and Ellen were more reserved and settled for kisses on the cheek.
Gwen and Ellen had their mother’s straight dark hair, while Sarah was a blonde who might almost have passed for her auntie Lauren at the same age. All three girls wore matching, slightly punkish, outfits, with black motorcycle boots, red stockings, mini-skirts and leather jackets with the Grand Plaza Casino logo on the back.
“Loving the matching gear,” James said. “Did your mum pick them?”
“They’re horrific,” Ellen spat. “I feel like a billboard. Why can’t I just wear what I like? Everyone else gets to.”
“Your mum’s put a lot of thought into this,” James said, trying to sound parental. “You get to wear what you want the rest of the time, don’t you?”
Kerry stepped into the bare concrete room and sensed her oldest daughter’s unhappiness. “Still moaning about that dress?”
Ellen shrugged. “I’m wearing it, aren’t I, for Christ’s sake?”
James and Kerry kissed. Kerry’s smell always set off a longing inside James, but he tried to ignore it.
“Is Sue not coming?” Kerry asked.
“She’s in a mood,” James said, as he shook his head. “Post-natal depression, I think.”
“I guess that’s the last we’ll be seeing of Sue then,” Sarah said cynically. “I wonder which dumb blonde we’ll be calling Auntie next?”
James wanted to tell his middle daughter off for being sarcastic, but the other two girls were smirking. And it wasn’t like Sarah had said anything that he hadn’t thought himself, so he changed tactics.
“So where’s your husband?” James asked.
“Medical Conference in Toronto,” Kerry said, as she glanced at her watch. “You’ve known for months that Paul wouldn’t be here tonight. Anyway, it’s time we rolled out.”
“Mum reckons Auntie Lauren’s coming as well,” Gwen said. “She’s not got her kids with her, but it’s still cool. I haven’t seen her since summer.”
“Haven’t bumped into her,” James said dismissively. “And I’ve no idea why she’s here. Last time I spoke to Lauren about the casino business she told me that it leeches profits from the poor and stupid and leads to gambling addiction and family breakdown. So what’s she doing at the opening of a glitzy new casino?”
“Casino do leech their profits from the poor and stupid,” Ellen said, unable to resist having a dig at her parents.
James laughed. “I tell you what Ellen, when you get your driver’s permit how about I make a charitable donation to gamblers anonymous in your name, instead of buying that Porsche you’re after?”
“She’d wreck a Porsche if she got it, anyway,” Sarah said.
“Shut up, bitch,” Ellen snapped back.
“You two,” Kerry shouted. “Behave!”
Sensing that family harmony was about to collapse, Kerry turned the conversation back towards Lauren.
“Maybe Lauren just saw an opportunity to make up for lost time,” Kerry suggested. “You two used to be so close. When did you last speak to her?”
James shrugged. “She phoned me at Christmas? Or was it when the girls were in Australia the summer before last?”
Gwen sounded outraged. “That’s fifteen months, daddy. How can you go fifteen months without talking to your own sister?”
“They had a fight,” Ellen said.
“Lauren and I never had a fight,” James said firmly. “We just grew apart. We lead different lifestyles and have very different attitudes.”
“We need to move now,” Bruce said, as he came into the room through a fire door. “Unless you want to miss your own fireworks.”
The Choke family walked through a concrete corridor that smelled of damp and new paint. It was built under the main fountain at the casino entrance. Kerry’s bodyguards, Alfie and Max, led the way up a spiral staircase. At ground level they all emerged into a luxurious gazebo where a couple of really big name celeb who’d been paid vast sums of money to show their faces at the casino opening nibbled crab-cakes and sipped wine.
Kerry made a big show of hugging everyone, while James helped eleven-year-old Gwen overcome her shyness and get an autograph off the star of her favourite TV show. At precisely six minutes to midnight, the first firework barrage lit up the sky.
James felt like he’d entered a warzone as he stepped along the red carpet towards the Grand Plaza’s huge Gothic-columned entrance, with a long haired daughter on each arm. Fireworks cracked above and hundreds of cameras flashed, from both photographers in the press area and snappers in the 30,000 strong crowd.
As another blast of fireworks erupted, a woman broke through the security barriers and threw a giant pair of gold knickers at James’ head. They missed, but James stopped to pick them up as security guards dragged the woman away.
“Thank you so much,” James said. “I always wear this brand and I was running low.”
James got a gentle whack from middle daughter Sarah. “Dad, you’re so embarrassing. If the boys in my class see a picture of me in the paper wearing this stupid outfit while you hold up a pair of gold knickers I’ll die of embarrassement.”
But James barely heard his daughter’s complaint because the next barrage of fireworks was powerful enough to shake the ground they walked on.
Two dozen VIPs had been given giant scissors to cut the ribbon on the stroke of midnight and declare the casino open, but before that could happen there would be a short video presentation of all the thrills that the new casino was going to offer.
Lauren wasn’t important enough to get scissors, but she had been allowed to stand with a slightly larger group of VIPs off to one side of the casino entrance. Her three nieces all made a beeline as soon as they spotted her.
“Auntie Lauren it’s been ages!” Sarah said, as Gwen hugged her.
“I totally want another holiday at your vineyard,” Ellen said. “It’s so mellow out there.”
“How’s Uncle Rat?” Sarah asked.
“Did that sick horse get better?” Gwen added.
“Uncle Rat and Mabel the horse are both much better,” Lauren said. “Rat’s hair’s grew back after the chemotherapy stopped and I really hope you can all make it out to Australia for Christmas this year. I know my kids are mad keen to see you again.”
“I want to go surfing again,” Sarah said. “And little Mac is so cute.”
James was approaching too, but as he was about to pull Lauren into a hug she felt her phone vibrate and took it out of her bag to see a message from Gareth that read, Job done. Seconds to spare!
“Was that more important than me?” James said irritably as Lauren stared at the phone.
“Little Mac’s got an ear infection,” Lauren lied, as they finally hugged. “Doctor’s given him antibiotics.”
“Sorry to hear that,” James said. “It’s been way too long since I saw you. I think you were pregnant with Mac and how old is he now?”
“Three next month,” Lauren said, as they squeezed each other. “You should visit when Kerry and the girls fly over. You stopped coming, but I never stopped inviting you.”
“Maybe I will this year,” James said, though it as an empty promise: he didn’t share his daughters’ liking for Lauren and Rat’s dusty ranch and vineyard, and the Aussie press didn’t give him enough room to misbehave when he went out partying in Sydney.
“You’re coming Daddy!” Gwen said, wagging her finger. “I heard you promise.”
“I said maybe I’ll go,” James replied, but he tailed off because the fireworks had stopped and the sixty storey casino towers had blacked out, apart from two vast video screens erected to show a short promotional film.
James had watched and approved the video himself, so he was unpleasantly surprised when instead of showing a sweeping helicopter shot of his new casino, the screens cut to a picture of his second ex-wife, the gorgeous movie actress Kate Porpoise.
She stood against a stark grey background and began speaking to camera.
“Don’t worry everyone,” Kate began, in a soothing voice. “In two minutes time the lights will come back on, the casino doors will open on schedule and you can all have some fun. But before you walk through the doors, maybe you should think about all the glass, concrete and steel that went into making this vat new casino, and all the resources it will use before it gets all shabby and they blow it up and build a replacement.
“Maybe you can also spare a thought for the four construction workers who were seriously injured during the building process. And maybe instead of going inside and gambling your money in order to make the Choke Corporation even richer than it is already, you could take five or ten dollars and help make the world a better place by donating it to one of the following organisations. Thanks for listening and whatever you decide to do, I hope you have a great evening!”
The crowd and VIPs looked stunned or confused as a short list of organisations and money transfer barcodes flashed up on screen. James whacked Ellen’s hand as she held up her phone, but he didn’t manage to stop her before several dozen photographers snapped her using the spend function to donate $70 to an environmental group.
“Your mother is going to be livid,” James said. “She spent months making sure every detail of this ceremony was spot on.”
Kerry walked up to James and whispered in his ear as a ten second countdown appeared on the screen.
“Keep smiling for the cameras,” Kerry snarled, with the worlds fakest grin etched on her face. “But I’m going to sue that bitch ex-ife of yours for every penny she has.”
“Seven,” the crowd chanted. “Six...”
“Our company will not be suing my ex-wife,” James said. “She’s the mother of my twins. Think about the boys.”
“Five...”
“So what, we just let her get away with this bullshit?” Kerry hissed.
“It’s the hacker we should worry about,” James pointed out as the crowd chanted four. “If they can hack into hotel systems can they get into the air conditioning, or the security cameras? There’s over ten million dollars cash stored in the casino vault.”
“Three...”
“I’ve already texted the security director telling him he’s fired,” Kerry said.
“Two...”
Lauren had recoiled slightly at the thought of a hacker hunt, but nothing could ever be traced back to her, provided she removed the modem she’d attached to the network socket in her room before she checked out the following morning.
“One...Zero!”
Cheers erupted as the countdown clock reached zero and a midnight chimed. Gwen Choke joined the celebrities in cutting the ribbon with giant scissors and then the two lines of security guards stepped out of the way and allowed the huge crowd to surge up a dozen escalators into Las Vegas’ newest and most luxurious casino.
James turned to Lauren after Kerry and his daughters had headed inside with the crowd.
“Still playing jokes on your big brother eh?” James said, smiling fondly.
Lauren practically swallowed her tongue. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Aww give over,” James said. “You and Kate Porpoise have always got on well. You’re both into environmental causes and it’s pretty damned suspicious that you should fly in from Australia and turn up out of the blue for a casino opening when you hate casinos.”
“I just came here to catch up with you,” Lauren said unconvincingly. “I’m meeting a friend in New York for dinner tomorrow and I had to change planes somewhere along the way.”
“Kerry will be pissed off, but I don’t much care,” James said casually. “We’ve shelled out millions of dollars in adverts and paid celebrities to walk down our red carpet on opening night, but I’d bet that little sabotage stunt you and your eco friends have pulled off will get us more publicity than all of that.”
“Bad publicity,” Lauren said.
“There’s no such thing,” James said. “Well, maybe if I got my wang out and tried molesting some cocktail waitress over a craps table that would be bad publicity. But a few eco-mental hippy types whinging won’t hold much sway with our customers.”
Lauren bristled with anger at her brother’s description of environmentalists, but Bruce tactically intervened.
“Hiya, Lauren,” Bruce said warmly, as he hugged his old friend. “Are you in Vegas for long? I’d love for you to come over for dinner and meet my boys. I’m giving them all ninja training. My three year old smashes roof slates with his bare hand.”
“Bruce, I want you to escort Lauren up to her room,” James said, sounding more like a boss than a friend. “Help her to remove her hacking equipment before hotel security has a chance to find it.”
Bruce looked awkwardly at Lauren, before pointing at the big screen, which was now back to showing the Grand Plaza casino logo.
“I should have known it was you,” Bruce said, smiling. “That’s old skool! The kind of prank we’d have pulled back in our CHERUB days.”
James didn’t like the fact that Bruce found it so funny and shook his head. “I’ll never hear the end of this if Kerry finds out,” James told Bruce. “Frankly Lauren, I can’t understand why you’ve done this. Maybe you and I aren’t that close anymore, but our kids are and they’ll be the ones who’ll get hurt the most if you fall out with Kerry.”
James had a good argument, but Lauren wasn’t about to accept a lesson in responsibility from one of the most irresponsible men she’d ever met, so she snapped back angrily. “Jesus James, the planet is choking to death and you’re building a casino with ten thousand air conditioning units in the middle of a desert. How can you live with yourself?”
“I live very nicely,” James said, grinning. “In my 53rd floor penthouse with a stunning girlfriend half my age, a private jet and a woman who charges eight hundred dollars to manicure my nails.”
Bruce sensed that this argument was about to get explosive and pushed himself between the sibling.
“Come on, you two,” Bruce said. “Cool heads, eh?”
“Just get her out of town,” James said, as he took a step back. “When you’re done in Lauren’s room, take her to the airport and arrange for one of the Choke Corporation jets to fly her to New York, or wherever it is she’s really going.”
“Goodnight James,” Lauren said, as her brother turned to head back into his corporation’s new ten-billion-dollar casino complex.
But the funny thing was, although James and Lauren hadn’t agreed on anything in years, there was so much history between them that they couldn’t bring themselves to hate each other.
James turned back to Lauren. “Am I still invited for Christmas Dinner?” he asked.
Lauren smiled. “Always.”
“Then I’ll be there, with my girls this year,” James said. “And as long as you let me know how your hacker friends got into our computer system, I’ll make sure that Kerry never finds out that you were involved.”
Lauren smirked. “Hacking your casino was easy because you never change your password. You’ve been using LordSexyPants55 since you first joined CHERUB.”
James jaw dropped, but he tried to brush it off as he disappeared into a mass of bodies, surrounded by casino security guards and members of the public. They reached out to shake James’ hand and begged fro autographs.
Bruce and Lauren headed the other way, walking down the now desolate red carpet, past the empty press pen and back towards the gazebo while the crowds continued pouring up the escalators.
“So, do you hear much from the old gang?�� Bruce asked.
“I see Rat most days,” Lauren said.
“I mean apart from your husband,” Bruce said, laughing. “Kyle’s disappeared off my radar lately.”
Lauren nodded. “He wasn’t even at the last campus reunion. Gabrielle came out to Aus for a holiday last year with her husband. She’s earning big bucks working for a bank in Hong Kong. Bethany e-mails every now and then, but I haven’t seen her in years. And of course there’s people like Kevin and Dante, who’ve got jobs at CHERUB.”
“And Callum and Connor design skyscrapers,” Bruce said. “Did you see that thing they built in Taipei?”
“Monstrosity,” Lauren said. “But it won like a gazillion awards, so what do I know?”
“Next time you’re in Vegas, you must stay long enough to have dinner with my family,” Bruce said.
“Join us for Christmas out in Aus,” Lauren said. “I assume my brother pays you well enough to take the family on a good holiday once in a while.”
“He pays me a lot,” Bruce said. “But I’m not sure it’s enough for some of the messes I have to clean up, or some of his majesty’s little tantrums.”
“He can be such a pig,” Lauren said. “I’ve actually lost count of how many kids James has got now. Is it eight?”
“Ten,” Bruce said, “by six different women. But for all James’ money, and being the party boy clubbing ‘til 5am and hanging out with rock stars and being in the gossip columns, I don’t actually think he’s a very happy person.”
“Kerry?” Lauren asked.
“Obviously,” Bruce said solemnly. “James has always loved her and always will. But Kerry gave him more chances than he deserved and he still got his picture in the paper coming out of a nightclub with his hand up a stripper’s shirt.”
“If he’s unhappy he’s got nobody to blame but himself,” Lauren said firmly. “So, do you wanna stop off at a bar on the way to the airport? I don’t know about you, but I could murder a gin and tonic or five.”
Bruce looked at his watch. “Vegas is supposed to be a party town, isn’t it? So yeah, why the hell not?”
#CHERUB#cherub books#Robert Muchamore#Three Futures#James Adams#Bruce Norris#Lauren Adams#Kerry Chang
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peripatetia replied to your post “your gym selfie made me go do my wall push ups. i've got a lot of...”
I kind of want to play rugby after reading your posts about it :)
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It's a very exhausting sport, because there's a lot of getting up after being tackled, and halves are 40 minutes and don't have breaks, but the physicality and tactics of it are incredibly satisfying.
#peripatetia#i love tackling people#irl tank#also it IS a good way to meet girls if you're into that
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“A Slot Machine for the Solitaries”: On Joseph Cornell’s Films
In 1936, the artist and romantic urban scavenger Joseph Cornell discovered a warehouse in New Jersey that was selling off old film reels as scrap. Most buyers presumably intended to melt them down to recover the silver nitrate, but Cornell instead recovered and recycled the images. For a pittance he bought a complete print of a 1931 B movie called East of Borneo, starring Rose Hobart, cut it up and reassembled it as what may be the first collage film, Rose Hobart (1936).
In this modest, 19-minute experiment Cornell managed to say more than any number of critics and theorists about the essence of the cinematic experience; about how even bad actors can transfix, and why even tired, shoddy Hollywood programmers contain flickering spells of cinematic power. With a pair of scissors he neatly filleted the movie of its plot, leaving only a hallucinatory sequence of fragments. Rose Hobart sleeps, she wakes, she parts curtains, she enters rooms. Mostly, she gazes off screen—at what, we never know. In a dramatic film, her unchanging, hypnotized expression would surely result in a boring, unconvincing performance. But here, stripped of context, she is enigmatic and mesmerizing. She keeps appearing in different costumes, a masculine tailored safari suit one moment, the next a flimsy white evening gown through which you can see her ribs. Her thin frame, bony face and cropped hair give her an androgynous look; in the blurred and battered print, her luminosity bleeds into the air around her. She is isolated, constantly framed at the center of the screen, like a pinned moth with its translucent wings spread open. She seems to withhold some unknowable secret. Thus, a forgotten actress of mediocre looks and talents becomes a celluloid goddess, embodying that hieratic power of the gazed-upon and gazing woman over the camera and the audience.
Cornell interspersed the close-ups of Hobart with jungle scenes from East of Borneo and also unrelated footage of a solar eclipse. The astronomical event, with its visual echo of a camera lens opening and closing—a slow-motion enactment of the process that creates the illusion of moving pictures—becomes the mysterious heart of the movie, the subject of Hobart’s reveries and silent conversations.
When Cornell screened Rose Hobart at the Museum of Modern Art, projecting the film at a slow speed through a piece of blue glass and accompanying it with repetitive, rhythmic Brazilian music, it was chiefly met with perplexity. One audience member had a violent reaction, however—Salvador Dali erupted in jealous fury, knocking over the projector and hurling insults at Cornell. He announced despairingly that he had dreamed of making just such a film, and though he had never spoken of it, he felt as though Cornell had stolen his idea.
The shy and reserved Cornell was mortified by the incident, and avoided publicly screening his films again, though he put together private soirees for his friends, at which he showed favorite movies and his own experiments. He made other collage films, though none with the sophistication and coherence of Rose Hobart, crudely splicing together old footage of vaudeville performers, children’s parties, ethnographic and travel movies, science films. In his iconic boxes, Cornell assembled astronomical drawings, engravings of ballerinas, scraps of French books, Dutch clay pipes, marbles, painted wooden birds. But here the pieces follow one another in time, rather than forming a single image perceived at once. The sequences are connected in the mind, not in the eye. Time passes and the abraded images slip away, not preserved in the bright eternity of the shadowbox.
A man grips a chair in his teeth, with a girl sitting in it, and climbs a flight of stairs. A seal balances a ball on its nose while perched on a rolling barrel. The ghosts of tightrope dancers, trapeze artists and knife throwers perform their feats. Children waltz in party dresses, clown and bob for apples. Dutch women in clogs hang laundry on lines; young men in felt hats browse the bookstalls along the Seine. Amoebas ooze through the dark, glistening like galaxies; a caterpillar chews through a leaf. These images salvaged from the junk-heap, murky and silent, randomly strung together, whisper of penny arcades and nickelodeons, peepshows and lectures in dingy classrooms. These are the attics of cinema, the bargain basements, and Cornell the committed surrealist revealed rather than disguised the oddness and illegibility of lost and found images.
He kept the same dedication to chance and spontaneity in his original films, collaborations with cameramen (Rudy Burckhardt, Stan Brakhage) who did the actual shooting. Filmed in the streets and parks of New York, the films often follow solitary women as they wander through urban spaces, watching pigeons, studying the stone carvings on fountains, moving through the crowds in a melancholy, enchanted reverie. The women (Cornell cast young actresses and dancers of his acquaintance) are both stand-ins for the artist as urban observer, and embodiments of the kind of unattainable feminine beauty and grace that inspired so much of his art. The films are sentimental about stone angels and autumn leaves, but they also take in city life—shuffling bums, the neon sign of a Horn and Hardart automat, a male dwarf in an overcoat crossing Union Square, a cigarette between his fingers. The camera follows pigeons in their swooping flight, a scrum of little boys roughhousing, dead leaves scudding in circles on the pavement.
Cornell wanted the films to just happen—he disapproved when Rudy Burckhardt edited footage they had shot into a finished film, What Mozart Saw on Mulberry Street, because he thought Burckhardt had made it too tidy, polished and controlled. The Mulberry Street footage, which uses as a touchstone a bust of Mozart in a shop window, is beguiling in any form: a symphony of rain, umbrellas, black and white cats, dark-haired girls chewing gum and holding hands, little boys in plaid coats and caps with earflaps shooting at storefronts with bows and arrows, dolls and mannequins in shop windows, graffiti on scuffed grimy walls. “The city is a vast image machine,” Charles Simic wrote in his book about Cornell, “a slot machine for the solitaries.” Pictures spin and freeze, and the prizes come unexpectedly in silver floods.
by Imogen Sara Smith
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GAME 08: PALMETTO STATE FOXES vs. USC-COLUMBIA GAMECOCKS
PRE-GAME
As the Foxes arrive at the court an hour before first serve, the tension is palpable: with the heavy crowds and the vandalism of the court last week, there’s more security than usual as the Foxes enter to the court to don their white-on-orange home uniforms and prepare for the biggest game of the season.
With Championships on the line, they all know what they have to do—score big, but not let the Gamecocks score. But with two other games that will help decide their fate going on at the same time tonight, there’s no way to know how many goals will be their golden ticket into the Championships.
But the Foxes do know this: with their current scoring record, the tiebreaker isn’t in their favor. They’ll need their best performance yet to turn it around.
After a week of practicing together, the inner court is packed with both Vixens and football cheerleaders, pasting on smiles and waving to the sellout crowd. As typical for Fox-Gamecock matchups, there is a lot of Gamecock Garnet in the stands—but tonight, after a strong comeback season from the Foxes, there’s maybe a little bit less than usual, the orange more pronounced.
The Gamecocks football team, however, is in attendance, returning the favor from the previous week with seats close to the front. On the opposite side of the stands, the victorious Fox football team is also in attendance—though the Foxes and the Vixens know that’s more to do with appearances, and their cheerleaders infiltrating the Foxes’ court, than any real support.
Half an hour before first serve, the Foxes are allowed onto the court for a brief warm-up. They line up in order of position: Strikers, then Dealers, then Backliners, then Goalkeepers, with Grant and Claudia in the front as Captain and Vice-Captain.
Once warm-ups are done, Grant and the Gamecocks’ captain meet at center court for the coin toss that will determine who gets first serve. The Gamecocks win, and the starting players enter the court for the start of the game.
Red Cards: N/A
Scratched: Alis Tan, Sasha Hart-Ashby
Injuries: Casey Hendrix (concussion)
FIRST HALF
STARTING LINEUP:
Goalkeeper: Grant Rollins (Sub: Emmett Ashford)
Dealers: Claudia Jewell (Subs: Archer Spelling)
Strikers: Carter Maddox, Octavia Dawson (Subs: Kent Cheong, Akira Sato)
Backliners: Grayson Sharpe, Beretta Lepore (Sub: Basil Walcott)
The players take their starting positions, and the Gamecocks dealer serves to start play.
Early in the game, both defenses prove solid: Grant rebuffs an early attempt, and the Gamecocks goalkeeper turns away a shot from Octavia.
With the Gamecocks in possession, Grayson is caught behind his striker mark. Before he can shoot, Grayson is crushing him into the wall, holding him there while the two exchange heated words.
Play continues as the striker struggles to free himself, and Grayson sends him into the wall again. Another Gamecock joins to pull Grayson back, as the referees stream onto the court to break up the ensuing two-on-one scrum.
Grayson is given a red card, and the Gamecocks are given a penalty shot, though the second Gamecock into the fray is given a yellow card.
Wymack sends on Basil for Grayson as the Gamecocks set up for the penalty shot. Grant isn’t able to get enough of his stick on it: it clips the tip of his racquet, but still lands true—giving the Gamecocks the first point of the game.
The Gamecocks serve, but Beretta is able to steal the ball and pass up to Claudia. Claudia takes it right up to the goal and then passes to Carter, who puts it in the goal on a sharp-angled shot.
With play paused and the score tied, Wymack sends in his subs: Emmett for Grant; Archer for Claudia; and Akira and Kent for Carter and Octavia.
Archer serves, and play resumes. The Gamecocks collect the rebound from a blocked shot on goal by Akira, and play goes the other way.
With play bunched up by the Fox goal, Emmett makes a daring play: pushing a Gamecock that had come too close to his goal crease back, Emmett leaves the goal to slam the ball down the court.
It’s Archer and the Gamecocks dealer in a race, and it’s a jostling of elbows and sticks when they get to the ball at the same time. When his racquet is wrested from his hands, Archer retaliates with a shove.
Before it can devolve into a fight, Kent is there to pull Archer back—sparing the Foxes from a worse penalty. Both players get a yellow card, and play is reset to the half court line.
The Gamecocks are given the serve, and play resumes. Basil meets the striker who has possession with a hard hit that allows Beretta to swoop in to clear the ball.
Kent catches Beretta’s pass, sidestepping the backliner that rushes to meet them and making a quick pass to Akira—setting him up to score the Foxes’ second of the night.
The buzzer sounds to signal the end of the half with the Foxes in a narrow lead: 2-1.
HALFTIME
The Foxes retreat to their locker room and the Vixens, together with the football cheerleaders, remain on the court for the special half time routine they spent the week practicing. At the end of the routine, however, Ripley breaks away from the rest of the squad for a tumbling pass that was not part of the choreography—and they land wrong at the end of it, falling and needing help to hobble off of the court, as the crowd—and the football cheerleaders, hiding laughter behind their pom poms—look on.
Back in the locker room, Wymack updates the Foxes on the two other important games going on tonight: the Ravens are burying the Terrapins, who have yet to get on the board; but the Jackrabbits have an early lead on the Dolphins. With no solid answers, the Foxes return to the court, knowing the only thing they can do is keep playing and hope for the best.
SECOND HALF
STARTING LINEUP:
Goalkeeper: Caleb Fournier (Sub: Grant Rollins)
Dealers: Raphael Peruggia (Sub: Olivia Finch)
Strikers: Arlo Booth, Brayden Sykes (Sub: Neel Avery, Leo Duarte)
Backliners: Sterling Walsh, Sydney McCray (Subs: Glory Hoskins)
Players take their positions, and Raph serves to start the half. His serve, however, is intercepted by a Gamecocks backliner, who’s able to turn it up the court.
Sydney tangles with her striker mark, but they’re able to get off a pass, and the other striker outpaces Sterling to get enough open court to shoot—and score, tying up the game.
The Gamecocks serve, but they’re not able to get far this time before running into Sydney, who is able to free the ball with a stick check and clear it.
Arlo and Brayden go on the offensive, putting the Gamecocks defenders to the test—but they’re up to the task, and none of the Foxes’ shots make it through.
After sustained Fox pressure, a Gamecocks backliner attempts to clear the ball to give their defense a break, but Raph intercepts it and the Foxes are on the attack again.
A trip takes Brayden down, and the tired Gamecocks finally get a stoppage in play—though it takes a yellow card for them to do it.
With play paused, Wymack sends in his subs: Grant for Caleb; Olivia for Raph; Neel and Leo for Arlo and Brayden; and Glory for Sydney.
Olivia serves from where play was halted, deep in the Gamecocks zone. Leo beats a Gamecocks backliner to the serve and fires the ball at the goal—scoring his first of the season, pulling the Foxes into the lead.
With the Foxes gaining momentum, Olivia serves again. When Leo is locked up along the wall, she takes control of the loose ball and passes to Neel, who’s able to quickly slip it past the goalkeeper for another Fox point.
Olivia serves, but this time the Gamecocks mount a response, turning the ball up the court. Glory’s striker mark is a pest, jabbing her with elbows and the butt of their racquet as the jostle for position.
Glory’s temper frays, and their shoving match turns quickly to dropped racquets and traded blows. She gets a red card, and the Gamecocks are awarded a penalty shot as Wymack sends Sydney back on.
It’s the second penalty shot that Grant has faced this game and, when every point counts, he turns this one away decisively.
The Gamecocks are given the serve and, though the Foxes are in the lead, they know they can’t back down: a hit from Sterling gives Olivia the chance to get the ball upcourt for one last push, and Leo picks up her shot and fires it at the goal.
It’s turned away, but Neel collects the rebound, and fires it past the goalkeeper while they’re still down: it’s his second goal of the night, and the Foxes’ fifth.
The dying minutes of the game are more of a shoving match than Exy play, but the referees don’t intervene, just let the last seconds tick down.
The buzzer sounds and, as the referees stream onto the court to prevent a bigger brawl from breaking out, the Foxes have won 5-2—but will it be enough?
POST-GAME
Without knowing the outcome of the Terrapins and Jackrabbits games, it’s still uncertain whether or not the Foxes are going to the Championships—but, with their defeat of the Gamecocks, it’s certain that the Gamecocks won’t be. The stands are loud and teeming with energy, but the Foxes just want to get through the handshake line as quickly as possible so they can get back to the locker room and check the scores that will determine their fate.
As they make it through the line and start to retreat, behind them the stands erupt with noise—as fights break out between Fox and Gamecock fans, who now have had to watch their teams defeated by Palmetto two weeks in a row.
In the locker room, the Foxes gather in the lounge in front of the TV, still in their sweaty gear, watching the last minutes of the Jackrabbits-Dolphins game. As expected, the Ravens crushed the Terrapins, but their point ratio is still enough to put them ahead of the Foxes in the tiebreaker, and so beating the Jackrabbits is the Foxes’ only hope. In the last seconds, the Dolphins get a final goal—not enough to pull into the lead, but just enough to tip the tiebreaker into the Foxes’ favor: they’re going to Championships, by a single goal.
With the celebration in the Foxes’ locker room, and the commotion on the court they left behind, it’s a long time before things are settled down enough for press duty to proceed: Wymack assigns Leo and Basil to speak with the press, while the rest of the Foxes shower and change out.
At the conclusion of press duty, Leo and Basil rejoin their team in the lounge—which is crowded with both Foxes and Vixens, all of them being held there by security until the crowds have the chance to disperse, in the hopes of avoiding any further altercations.
It’s late when they’re allowed to leave, and there’s only one thing left to do: party. The Palmetto campus is once again active, an opportunistic and slightly hypocritical mirror to the celebrations last week. But the Foxes and the Vixens’ celebration in the Vixen Den is friends and family only—no one else is getting in.
ADMIN NOTE: And there you have it! You’re welcome to set threads during any of the periods listed above—(pre-game, expanding on the events of the game itself, halftime, post-game)—and I can’t wait to see what you come up with!
That’s it for the regular season, but we’ll be back next semester for the Spring Championships! And, get excited, because the next timeline update will bring the second installment in our #ExyProm series—the Winter Banquet! It will be hosted by Edgar Allan, and including teams from both the Southeastern and Northeastern Districts. And with those Championships emotions running high, it’s a perfect time to start thinking about dates! 👀👀
And, as always, please let me know if you have any questions or feedback!
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There is Only One Rule in the Eton Wall Game
There is Only One Rule in the Eton Wall Game
Boris Johnson, team captain The Eton Wall Game
David Cameron dropped the ball and Boris Johnson scrambled it out of the scrum with a series of feints, dodges and subterfuges. There is only one rule in the Eton Wall Game and only Old Etonians know what it is.
The Eton Wall Game is only played at Eton, the poshest school in the world. The purported purpose of the game is to score a ‘shy’ by running…
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