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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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And I Will Still Be Here Stargazing PT. 2

A Batsis x Batfamily Story!

Word Count: 1.4K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Past Assault

Author's Note: Gotta start it slow and get into it! Hope y'all are enjoying so far! -Thorne

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You’ve been missing for an entire week.

That entire statement had her ushered into a side room of GCPD while Gordon called her family, and all she could to was let the officers poke and prod at her whilst asking her questions about what happened to her all week. Expect she had no idea how to respond. She hadn’t been missing for a week, at least that’s what she believed.

When the officer checking her out showed her their phone, she was flabbergasted at the fact that sure enough, an entire week had passed between that night and now. She couldn’t wrap her head around it and she could tell some of the officers were getting annoyed with her lack of explanation.

“Probably out getting bent in a high riser all week. We should test her for cocaine and ecstasy.”

Her head shot up and she glowered at the two officers snickering just outside the door. “I wasn’t doing drugs, you assholes.” They stopped laughing and gaped at her, and suddenly she realized that she’d heard their whispering from that far. Her cheeks warmed and she looked back down to avoid their stares.

“Miss (Y/N), we should get you to the hospital to do a rape kit.”

She glanced at the officer beside her. “I wasn’t assaulted, ma’am.”

“You never know,” she explained. “It’s always better to be safe than—”

(Y/N) reached out and put her hand on her arm. “I wasn’t assaulted. I don’t know what—” something flashed across her mind, a memory, or a nightmare rather, the same officer before her, drowsy and helpless, locked in a room with a coworker. She yanked her hand away, understanding why; swallowing thickly, she murmured, “I’m fine. I just need to talk to my family.”

“Are you sure?” the officer asked, concern evident all over her face. “There’s no shame in asking for help.”

“Yeah, I’m fi—”

“(Y/N)!”

She looked up, seeing her family running towards her; (Y/N) was on her feet in seconds, colliding with her dad, arms wrapping around his waist as he placed one on the back of her head, holding her close. Her brothers and sister crowded around her, all holding tight to their missing sister.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered harshly, unshed tears in his voice. “We’ve been so worried about you.”

Tears gathered in her eyes at the fear in his voice and she swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what’s going on, dad. I’ve been missing for a week?”

“You don’t remember?” Dick questioned lowly in her ear so no one could hear, and she shook her head.

“No. All I remember is seeing the comet that night and then…I was waking up the next morning.” She turned her head so she could see her eldest brother’s face. “A week has apparently passed but I don’t know how.”

Bruce hummed, pulling away from her and he took her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll talk about it at home,” he assured and stood back, glancing at Gordon. “Thank you for finding her, Commissioner.”

Gordon huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “We didn’t. She found us.”

(Y/N) smiled awkwardly. “Am I free to go home, Commissioner Gordon?”

“You were never not allowed, Miss (Y/N).” He stepped close and rested a hand on her shoulder as he murmured, “But I do think you should go to the hospital.”

“But I’m not—”

“We’ll have Doctor Leslie come to the manor for a personal check up.” Bruce interrupted and she internally thanked her father.

“Of course, Mister Wayne.” Gordon said. “Drive safely.”

Bruce rested his hand on her shoulders and ushered her out of the building and into the car.

***

What was she missing? Obviously, the entire week between then and now, but God, what was it? What had happened between then and now? Had she slept through an entire week? It wasn’t possible. Her family would’ve found her and brought her back. So, what really happened to her? Maybe she had been abducted or something? But her dad would’ve known the second something had entered Gotham. He always did. So, what—

“(Y/N).”

The firm call of her name shook her from her thoughts and she jerked up, looking at the rear-view mirror and into her dad’s eyes. “Yes sir?”

“We’re home.”

(Y/N) took a moment to gaze at her surroundings, and sure enough, the car was parked in the garage. It was just her and him, so the others must’ve gone inside. “Oh…I guess we are.”

“Come up here a minute.” He said and she crawled into the front seat, resting back against the cushions, eyes directed to the wall before her. “Are you alright? And I mean really alright?”

She didn’t even know at that point; she was so stunned trying to process everything, and she gestured vaguely. “I don’t know, dad.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “I’m not lying to you when I say that I have no idea what happened.”

“What do you remember?” he asked, eyes narrowed in that way that told her he was calculating every word for every scenario possible; that it wasn’t her dad looking for answers, but Batman instead. When she opened her mouth, nothing came out and he reached over, placing a hand over hers, squeezing tightly. “Close your eyes. Start from the very beginning. From the last thing you remember to now.”

(Y/N) nodded and took a deep breath, shutting her eyes. “I remember Alfred dropping me off in the field around seven. The sun was still out, and I had enough time to set up the telescope on the tripod.”

“Keep going. You’re doing good. What did it smell and sound like around you?”

She made a face. “Like a farm. But fresher air. I could hear the cicadas and crickets around. The occasional tractor equipment.” (Y/N)’s eyes shifted beneath her eyelids. “I got bored waiting, so I got on my phone until the sun went down. When the stars came out, I went between looking at the sky through the scope and out of it.”

“Then I called you. Do you remember that?”

“I do,” she nodded. “I talked to you and then I saw the comet.” That’s when things started to fall apart, and she shook her head. “I remember pulling away from the lens but then…the next thing I remember is coming to in the field.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and gazed at her hands. “I must’ve fallen asleep, but I don’t remember getting into my sleeping bag. And I certainly don’t remember sleeping for a week straight.”

Bruce merely stared at her, sighing, “We’ll give it time. Maybe something will come to you the longer you’re awake.”

She shrugged and reached for the door-handle, but when she grabbed it, it curled under her grip, and she froze.

“What was that?” he questioned, and her eyes went wide as she hurriedly bent the handle back.

“Nothing!” (Y/N) clambered out of the car and didn’t even close the car door behind her, running up the steps and into the kitchen where she was met by her siblings who pulled her into another hug that she was helpless to escape from. And she was fairly sure that Dick was sobbing on her shoulder.

***

Leslie frowned at the young woman across the room, gesturing for Bruce to follow her into the kitchen. “You’re not going to like the news.”

“What happened?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Blood and urinalysis are both clean. So is the assault kit.” Leslie stared at him. “It’s almost like she really slept for an entire week.”

“It’s not possible,” Bruce argued. “We scoured that field and all of Gotham with help from every superhero alive.” He sighed. “Something happened to her. She dropped completely off the grid and suddenly reappeared back on.”

Leslie shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Bruce. I don’t have an explanation for this. She’s healthy as a horse.” She placed a hand on his arm. “But if anything changes, give me a call and I’ll come back.”

He nodded, seeing her out. “Thank you, Leslie.” Bruce closed the door and wandered back into the living room, and though he felt such an inner turmoil over his daughter, the sight of her asleep and sandwiched between all her siblings, being protected by them, made him smile.

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aaaanathaniel · 3 years

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jodyedgarus · 7 years

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All Of A Sudden, The Rockets Are Dominant On Defense, Too

Back in October, when Draymond Green of the Warriors was asked to assess the Rockets’ offseason efforts to narrow the gap between Houston and Golden State, Green didn’t mince words.

“They want [a matchup with us] to be a shootout, which is fine,” he said. “But we’re gonna play some defense. Yeah, we score pretty well. But we’re a damn good defensive team, too.” Green, last season’s defensive player of the year, was clearly implying that the same couldn’t be said for Houston, which ranked in the lower half of the league defensively the past two seasons.

Green also seized upon a remark from Rockets coach Mike D’Antoni about neither team being able to stop the other. “I don’t know how serious they take defense with that comment,” he said.

But a quarter of the way through the season, that question is no longer up for debate: Houston’s defense is elite, and it could finally make the Rockets balanced enough to challenge Golden State.

Related: The Lab

This Might Be James Harden's Year

With an immense focus on the Houston offense — specifically, its addition of nine-time All-Star Chris Paul and its continuing 3-point shot crusade — the team’s vast improvement on defense has flown beneath the radar. Entering Thursday’s game with the red-hot Utah Jazz, Houston’s defense is surrendering just 100.9 points per 100 possessions, fifth-best in the league. That defensive rating is slightly better than the Warriors’ and represents a night-and-day difference from last season, when the Rockets ranked just 18th, allowing 106.4 points per 100 possessions.

A handful of things explain why the club’s defense has performed so well after a pair of lackluster defensive seasons. Among them: The Rockets have gotten much better at protecting the rim and other high-value spots on the court that once troubled them; the team’s weakest defenders are performing better (or getting luckier?) than they did in the past; and Houston has used its own scoring ability to pay dividends on the other end.

Of course many of these improvements, if not all of them, stem from the same thing: the club’s getting solid, versatile defenders during the offseason. Paul’s track record on that end is well chronicled — he’s a perennial leader in steals. But because he was replacing fellow all-defensive first-team member Patrick Beverley, other pickups have had even greater opportunities to take the unit to new heights.

Wing players PJ Tucker and Luc Mbah a Moute have been game changers for this defense, giving the Rockets — who already had one of the league’s very best perimeter defenders in an overburdened Trevor Ariza — the ability to switch assignments on the fly when teams set screens against them. They communicate well and don’t get lost backdoor (an area the Rockets struggled mightily with last season). And because both players are tall and strong enough to defend three different positions, Houston can use extremely quick smallball lineups with them, Paul and MVP candidate James Harden, who for years was criticized for his inattentive defense.

To get a sense of how just valuable Tucker and Mbah a Moute have been as primary and help defenders, consider this: The Rockets are allowing just 94.1 points per 100 possessions with that duo on the floor this season, third-best in the NBA among two-man lineups that have shared at least 300 minutes together thus far. (Only Boston’s Terry Rozier and Marcus Smart and OKC’s Paul George and Andre Roberson have been better.) At times, Houston almost looks as though it’s playing a zone — with each defender responsible for a man and a half — because of how synchronized the defense is with Tucker and Mbah a Moute. Watch here, as the Nets struggle to get anywhere near the lane because of how every ballhandler sees two Rockets ready to make a play on the ball.

https://espnfivethirtyeight.files.wordpress.com/2017/12/almostzone.mp4

Even when only one of them is in the game, reigning Sixth Man of the Year Eric Gordon, who has been fantastic this season on both ends, is another option aside from Ariza. And because of the trust that Tucker and Mbah a Moute have helped establish, Clint Capela and Nene, the team’s bigs, have felt comfortable wandering farther out on the perimeter to meet opposing ballhandlers. That was often a big mistake last season, when the Rockets ranked dead last in rim protection and allowed opponents to shoot 67 percent from inside the restricted area. (This season, Houston has leaped into the top half of the league on that defensive metric.)

With smarter, more switchable defenders on the floor, the Rockets have also taken away many of the corner 3-point opportunities that were there for opponents in years past. And so far this season, Houston ranks among the NBA’s top 10 in limiting those attempts. That’s a big shift from last year, when the Rockets were among the 10 worst teams at stifling 3-point attempts from the corner, and the year before, when Houston’s opponents took a greater share of their 3-point attempts from the corner than any other team’s.

Perhaps the biggest shift that has taken place this season: Out of nowhere, Houston has become the NBA’s best defensive-rebounding club, nabbing 81.4 percent of opponent’s misses. Limiting second chances is key for the Rockets, who ranked 21st last year and were last in 2015-16, Dwight Howard’s final season with the team.

None of this is to say that the Rockets aren’t capable of backsliding on defense. One area they haven’t gotten better in, transition defense, is something an uptempo team like the Warriors could exploit. (We illustrated last season that Harden — despite his ridiculous passing ability — often gets back on defense slowly after a turnover or what he perceives to be a missed call.) And even though the Rockets have had no issues getting stops in half-court situations, there are indications that they’ve been the beneficiaries of good fortune at times. Only three teams (Cleveland, Orlando and New York) are surrendering higher-quality shots than Houston, according to data from Second Spectrum.

Some of those looks have stemmed from opponents getting wide-eyed when they see an opportunity to go 1-on-1 against Harden or the slow-footed Ryan Anderson,1 who has been isolated more than anyone this season outside of the Lakers’ Julius Randle. Both players have held their own — especially Harden, who’s allowing one of the lowest scoring rates among guards2 on those plays, according to data from Synergy Sports Technology. But it’s unclear whether that would hold up for an entire season (Anderson’s case is worth watching, because teams are challenging him 2.5 times a game).

If anything, though, there’s reason to suspect that the Rockets could get even better on defense before the season concludes. Much has been made of the Harden-Paul duo, which has yet to fully jell because of Paul’s early-season injury. But if those two figure out how to play off each other and make an already impeccable offense even better, it will pay enormous dividends on the other side of the ball.

Houston is sloppy with the ball and bad in transition defense, but they lead the NBA in defensive efficiency after a made basket this season, allowing just 95 points per 100 possessions, according to Inpredictable.

https://espnfivethirtyeight.files.wordpress.com/2017/12/fullgameposs.mp4

So, when it’s Rockets vs. Warriors, we aren’t going to see a 1990s-style Eastern Conference slugfest, in which the first team to 90 points wins, break out anytime soon. These teams shoot too well for that to happen. But it’s time to stop wondering whether Houston has the defensive horses to be mentioned in the same sentence with Golden State — this Rockets team is different.

from News About Sports https://fivethirtyeight.com/features/all-of-a-sudden-the-rockets-are-dominant-on-defense-too/

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itsworn · 7 years

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This Historic 1962 Studebaker Lark Gasser Was a Different Kind of Father/Son Project

Fathers.

The plan was this: My son Sebastian and I had just finished one of many restorations, the Blood Sweat & Gears 1948 Prefect. We wanted to do a father-and-son project to keep the family tradition going in the same manner as my dad and I had done, and he and my grandfather had done before that. We wanted to find a project car that had no history, so Sebastian could dictate the direction of the build. I wanted my son to take the lead so he could learn the building process. He would pick a time period, research what was being done to cars at the time, and pick a car.

Though he looked at many brands, in his heart he wanted a Studebaker. He always had a thing for the Flintstone Flyer. He searched for ’59-’61 Larks for months, and then a ’62 Lark popped up on Craigslist. We looked through the ad, and the phone number caught my eye. It belonged to a friend, Chicago Mike. Seconds later we were on the phone with him, and I asked the standard questions: Any rust, body damage, and do you have the title? He asked, “Didn’t you read the description in the ad?” to which I said, “Obviously not.” He answered my questions and also told me he couldn’t get the trunk open.

When it came time to talk about a price, I thought I was going to have to haggle. But when Mike learned that the car was for my son, he cut the price in half. With that, the car was on a trailer back at our house within a couple of hours. Mike was still messing with the trunk when we came to pick it up.

On the build’s first day, a bluebird was hanging around the garage for quite a while, and we hadn’t seen one in years. When we finally got the trunk opened, we found a box of old speed equipment and the glovebox door. At that point, we really started looking the car over, and we found things like a Chrysler 8-3/4 rearend and a host of non-stock brackets, and that the front crossmember was bolted, not riveted, in. There were pads where the front leaf springs used to be, Chevy motor mounts, and holes in the floor for a B&M Series 60 box.

I called Mike back and asked, “What was the deal with this car?” He replied, “What are you talking about?” I said, “I’m 99 percent sure this was a gasser.” Mike said, “Maybe next time you’ll read the ad. Right there on the second line it says ‘gasser project.’”

There went our plans for a car with no history.

From that point on, we tried to trace its history but were unsuccessful. We could see that there was something written on the car, but it was impossible to make out. So what we did from that point was respect what was there and mix in some of our own ideas.

Sebastian likes to watch old movies, and toward the end of the build he saw the 1940s film The Blue Bird with Shirley Temple and decided that would be the name for his car.

Our family tradition of car building goes back to Sebastian’s great-grandfather and his son. His great-grandfather, originally from Havana, had the two largest auto shops on the island with their own racing team. They raced Hudsons and Chevys. His father/son build was a custom ’56 Chevy Bel Air.

They had to leave Cuba in 1960, but that didn’t stop the family. After arriving in the U.S. with 10 cents in their pocket and one suitcase each, it didn’t take long for Uncle Joe to start racing Impalas, Corvettes, and Novas. The family owned many gas stations, and Sebastian’s grandfather, Manuel, owned a body shop named Beeline in Los Angeles. Later, he owned Safeway Autobody, the second largest full-service shop in Los Angeles.

I started working with my dad Manuel at age 13. Working in his shop and visiting neighbor’s shops, I met people like Kenny the pinstriper, Larry the painter, and another painter named Ed. Larry would take me to the Barris shop, as did my father, where I met Dick Dean and Bill Hines. Little did I know that Kenny was Von Dutch, Larry was Larry Watson, and Ed was Ed Roth.

The projects I worked on with my dad were a ’79 Porsche 930 with a mechanical-injected, dual-plug 3.4L, and a ’55 Studebaker President Speedster with a Cadillac motor.

Sebastian has been with the automotive crowd since the time he first started walking. He was a regular at Boyd Coddington’s shop, George Barris’ shows and other functions, and he became a regular with the gasser crowd by age 7.

He is also an accomplished photographer. That seed was planted when he got his first point-and-shoot camera at 10. He shot everything with four wheels and after high school was gifted with a professional-grade camera. He also bought his own old-school 35mm Nikon to shoot (and develop) black-and-white pictures. Several of his photos have been displayed in galleries and in magazines, and he’s given a lot of photos out to his friends in the gasser crowd.

Once word about this car started to get out, what was supposed to be a father/son project became a son and fathers project. Within a few weeks of getting started, there were a dozen or so other “fathers” ready and willing to help, teach, and donate parts and time to the build. Sebastian had become a son to many.

Here’s to the “fathers” who helped with this build: Jim Kirby, chassis set up; Fernando Gutierrez, Atlas Springs; Eric Vaughn, wheel restoration; Phil Lukens, Blair’s Speed Shop, parts; Richard Salsido, Service Center, parts; Ted Radoumis, rearend assembly; Ken Mullinex, Car Chemistry mufflers; Paul Soliz, brakes; Dave Winders, Fabcraft 1957 rearend; Joey Rey, glass; Larry Fator, lettering; Augie Delgado, carburetion; Frank Forsyth, engine assembly; Phil Brown, machine work.

Our thanks to Jim Gordon of Specialty Ford Parts for providing the perfect location for Sebastian Rey’s time-warp Studebaker. We set up in an alley behind what was the home of P.S.I. Industries, a popular mail-order and speed shop business whose original owner, Gene Scott, was a founding member of SEMA. To this day the shop is packed with rare and desirable hot rod parts, available to a select few.

The family’s involvement with fast cars goes back to Sebastian’s great-grandfather, who ran two of the largest auto shops in Cuba and sponsored several race cars, including this Hudson. “They used the Hudson because it was winning a lot of races in the States,” explains Robert Rey, Sebastian’s father. “The car was lightened the American way: The seats had no springs except for under the driver, the wiper motor was only a housing, all the pot metal was replaced with chrome-plated sheetmetal, and the window mechanism was made out of aluminum.”

See that beautifully shaped rear window? The Reys had to find a second Lark for glass to replace the elegantly curved backlight and the windshield, and that car, too, turned out to have a street/strip past. “So much for finding cars with no history,” Robert says.

The engine, a 1965 327ci small-block out of a Corvette, came from a friend’s stash of engines. “Sebastian wanted a high-horse 327, and this motor was the second one inside the shop’s entrance,” says Robert. Phil Brown, who was Dyno Don Nicholson’s machinist, did the machining on the engine and donated some parts, while Frank Forsyth, who owned the Service Center Willys, assembled the motor.

Sebastian set a goal of having nothing newer than 1975 on his Stude gasser, and he succeeded everywhere except these Edelbrock carburetors. They mount to a vintage Edelbrock X-C8 cross-ram intake manifold and are topped by vintage Eelco stacks. The valve covers are from Moon.

Sebastian and Robert left some of the parts they found on the Studebaker—like this aviation-grade Purolator filter with a 1959 date code—in hopes that a previous owner would recognize them and help fill in the blanks about the car’s history.

Cool details are everywhere on this car, like the fuel pressure gauge finned and painted to match the valve covers, the canteen puke tank, and the painted headers, which lead to collectors that Ken Mullinex built with mufflers inside. There’s no need to hook and unhook an exhaust between the street and strip.

The Don Long chromoly dropped front axle is fitted with P.S.I. shackles and ’69 Camaro brakes. Fernando Gutierrez of Atlas Springs gave the Reys a screaming deal on the leaf springs and re-arched them gratis.

The rearend is out of a ’57 Pontiac and is home to 3.90 gears and positraction. Traction Masters keep the Atlas leaves from winding too much on hard launches.

Rollers up front are repop BFGoodrich Silvertowns on vintage 15×6 Torq-Thrusts that Eric Vaughn cut down to 4.5 inches wide.

The Casler recaps out back are mounted on American Standard wheels, rarities that were only made in 1967-1968.

This shot of the trunk shows the complex array of aircraft-surplus parts they pieced together to make a working trunk release mechanism.

The Studebaker’ seats came out of a 1964 Thunderbird, and still wear T-bird emblems on the backrests. The military-surplus seatbelts have a 1958 date code. A Grant steering wheel mounts to a steering column fabricated by the Reys.

The Reys could tell that the Studebaker’s floor had been drilled for a B&M Series 60 shifter box, so that’s what they used to control the Powerglide transmission beneath. They had to move the box a little further back than it was originally, though, as Sebastian couldn’t reach the handle where it had been mounted.

The decals that dress up the Stude’s dash are “legit, water-slide decals from the 1960s,” Robert says.

Engine-turned dash panel is home to a vintage Sun tachometer and Stewart-Warner speedo and fuel gauge.

Robert and Sebastian fabbed mild-steel six point rollbar using holes they found in the floor as a template for the mount points. What looks like a parachute cable is actually the trunk release.

The lettering on the car looks like it was done the old-school way, by hand, because it was, thanks to help from Larry Fator.

These porcelain license plate toppers are incredibly rare now.

Sebastian Rey, like his dad, grew up around cars and some of the famous men who built them. And, like his father, he is carrying on the family tradition of father/son project cars, albeit with a few more “fathers” than most of us have. Of his beautiful blue Stude Sebastian says, “It’s like an art piece, but when it’s moving it’s even better.

The post This Historic 1962 Studebaker Lark Gasser Was a Different Kind of Father/Son Project appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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