Concert Review: Rockin' Out to the Black Keys

I'm going to come right out and say it... I had never even heard of the Black Keys until I heard them on the Eclipse soundtrack. Yup, I pretty much live under a big giant rock in the music world. I really liked the song Chop and Change but never did anymore digging to see what this band was all about. But then I started hearing them more and more on my local alternative station and I kinda got hooked. And I still had no idea who these guys were.

If you spend most of your time under the same rock as me, you might be interested to know a few things about this band. The Black Keys are a two-man blues-rock band from Akron, Ohio and they've been around since 2001 (I had no idea). The band consists of a singer/guitarist (Dan Auerbach) and a drummer (Patrick Carney). They often tour with a couple of back up musicians -- a bassist and a keyboardist. And for chrissakes, they even won a couple of Grammy's last year. Gawd, I'm so out of the loop!

So a few months ago I see that they're playing here in Maine at the Civic Center in Portland and I know I just have to go. I got my free tickets (because I work in media and I haven't paid for a concert in 15 years) and gathered up my concert buddy, Double_Dippin, had some drinkies and noms and headed into the sold out show. When I go to a concert, I immediately turn 80. I'm like a grumpy old woman and if I can't find a seat amongst the throngs of sweaty twenty-somethings, I get a bit pissy.

I don't do this. Just looking at this makes me claustrophobic.

The opening band was definitely not my cup of tea. Actually, the Arctic Monkeys gave me the sudden urge to jam my car keys into my eardrums. It took every ounce of will power to make it through the hour-long set. But I did. Playing Words with Friends helps pass the time.

And then it happened. The lights went down and from my perch in the seats off to the side, I could see the band populate the stage. I'm not sure what I expected, but it's not what I heard. It was a sound that blew through my core (probably because I was very close to those big overhead speakers). My feet involuntarily started tapping. My head bobbing. And my mouth formed the biggest smile that didn't wane until the concert ended.

Yeah, this might have been us... while sitting in our seats!

The heavy, gritty sounds of Dan's guitar and Patrick's violent pounding on the drum (he busted a head at one point) -- it was like nothing I've heard before. Even when they sent the two backup band members off the stage and played a handful of songs with just the two of them, it still sounded like a full band. I was amazed.

I didn't recognize every song they played, and I didn't even know the words to the ones I did, but I had as much fun at this concert as any I'd been to in recent years. They definitely gained a big fan and my iTunes account is going to take a wicked hit this week when I buy some of their stuff.

My sad little video of Chop and Change... great rendition.

Make sure to watch for the dancing dudes... they were cracking my shit up.

Are there a lot of Black Keys fans out there in Twitardedland? I'm wondering if I'm being over zealous about this concert because I just don't get out much... or are they really that fun to watch? Please tell me I'm not totally crazy. 

March Equals Music Madness (aka It's SXSW Again)

It's March again, Spring is (sort of) in the air and once again I'm taking off to the very large state of Texas to embark on five days of non-stop music, amazing pulled pork sandwiches and as much shitty free beer as I can drink without projectile vomiting everywhere. Hopefully I won't bleed all over my boarding pass this time...

That's right, it's SXSW time!!

 SXSW 2009(?) aka how many people can you fit in a tiny hotel room? (Answer - eleven. Uncomfortably.)

I have to admit that this year I was planning on NOT going. Work was being wonky and I wasn't sure I was going to be able to take off so I didn't really decide I was going until I got tipsy with a girlfriend of mine and bam! the next day I'm buying airplane tickets without even knowing if I was going to have a place to stay.

Thankfully, I have a place to stay. Because that would have really sucked otherwise. Really, really sucked. Given the fact that most of the hotels in the area are booked up by the October before SXSW, there was a very good chance I could have ended up sleeping in a car or something. For once, luck was on my side.

Anyway, I've been completely immersed in trying to find bands that I want to see that are playing free parties (free being the operative word here since badges are expensive as all get out) and that exercise is seriously labor intensive. 

(Free!!) Mess With Texas Party 2011 aka Dirty as a Motherfucker. Seriously. That haze you see? Fucking dirt flying.  

Since I know many of you won't be able to hop on a plane and meet me in Austin, I figured I'd bring some of the music to you.

In no particular order, here are just a few of the bands I really, totally, freaking-can't-wait to see...

Noah Gundersen
If you are a fan of Sons of Anarchy, you've already heard Noah Gundersen. For a young looking kid, he sure has a lot of heart and soul, not to mention a truly beautiful voice.



Cro-Mags
There is no segue I can come up with that could even remotely tie together Cro-Mags with Noah Gundersen. They are the total opposite. They are so opposite from each other that if they ended up playing in the same room together, at the same time, the earth would tilt on its axis and spill the oceans out and we'd probably just fucking implode and shit.

The last time I saw the Cro-Mags was in the 90s and I'm pretty sure my staple outfit involved a pair of Doc Martens and a lot of safety pins. Just sayin'.



Futurebirds
I am super, super excited to see Futurebirds. I've seen them a few times before and they always put on a fantastic show. Very energetic and fun. Plus, I fucking love the banjo, dude.




Crystal Antlers
I had only vaguely heard of this band but never sought them out until I stumbled upon them in my SXSW party searches. So far, so good. Their sound is mildly psychedelic but certainly not jammy. It's definitely worth checking out!



So there you have it! I probably could go on and on but I imagine there are only so many music videos a person can look through in one sitting. I hope you enjoy!

And please - if you have any recommendations, or know how my girlfriends and I can get badges without having to pay a ridiculous amount of money or perform sexual favors, let me know!!

Spring is Almost *&^%#!!! Here!

I'm just going to come out and admit that I have been in a major funk lately. Black cloud over my head, mouth that feels like it doesn't know how to form a smile some days, rage-ball moments over incomprehensibly little and inconsequential things (and the massive guilt associated with KNOWING it's inconsequential and not being able to do anything to change your mood).

I've never really considered myself much of an outdoorsy person, let alone a sun-worshipper (as evidenced by my not-usually-sparkly-but-otherwise-vampire-worthy pallor), but this has been a particularly dreary winter in New Jersey. and I'm feeling it. Not that it's been particularly cold or snowy, mind you - but at least snow is pretty and you usually get some bright sunshine after a snowstorm... Instead, it's just been day after relentless day of overcast, sunless, gray. And it's been bumming me out.

Hey guess what's all dead and brown in the winter? 

This is also the time of year when people seem to be in full-on nesting mode. Or is that hibernating? Either way, nobody is really doing much of anything but holing up inside and possibly drinking a lot. I can only truly speak for myself, but I am pretty sure that my social circle is supporting the extended families of several liquor store owners. Adding insult to injury, after Mr. Snarky and I both came down with the flu last month, we regrettably missed one of our favorite parties of the year: Waitangi Day.

 It's like this but with less national pride, fewer grass skirts, and more drinking.

Because we don't live in New Zealand, Waitangi Day is basically an excuse for everyone to get together in February, kick back, and enjoy some good food, good drink, good music, and good company. We were both "mostly better" flu-wise when the date arrived, but you know those people who show up places glowing with fever and sounding like they are about to hork up a lung but swearing "I'm not contagious anymore"? I don't want to be "that person" - I have yet to meet one who had any medical training or education in disease pathology, and they are all a bunch of dirty liars who are trying to give me their cooties. 

Things were looking pretty bleak...

And then last week, I saw sunshine. Granted, I saw it out the window while I was at work, but it was glorious. I also saw two robins AND some crocus in bloom, all in the same day. For the first time, I felt hope. OK, for the first time in a couple of weeks, I stopped scowling and with great effort, I managed to turn my frown upside down (seriously, sometime the simple act of smiling can make you feel better. - what's up with that?).

 Robins!

 

Crocus!

Sure the "blah NJ winter" color is almost dominating the above photos, but still...SPRING! It's COMING!

I'm not gonna lie: since then, it's been more "blah" gray and dreary weather, dawn-'til-dusk, and not much sun. But later this week, it's going to be sunny almost 70 degrees out, and I swear that I'm getting outside to soak up some Vitamin D even if I get fired. Which I won't - I have a cog-in-a-wheel job, not some life-or-death gig where my absence will cause the end of the world. In the meantime, I have started spring cleaning with gusto (read: I have donated a lot of stuff to Goodwill and opened some blinds for the first time in four months) and am READY for spring - time to get a pedicure, people! What? Isn't that the universal sign of winter being over? Let's celebrate with some sort of festive spring-themed cocktail! Put a daffodil in it! Who's with me???

Happy National Grammar Day. Er, Belatedly.

Bringing current events to you in a very... non current (but very Twitarded) fashion, Twitarded would like to wish everyone a Happy National Grammar Day! March 4th — that was yesterday, for those of you who are as oblivious to dates as I am — is set aside as the twenty-four hour period for Americans to honor correct use of the English language. I imagine Canadians and Brits honour the King's English on another day.

The likelihood that I will have at least five grammar errors in this post are is very, very high.

 I don't have a Facebook account (because I rebuke Facebook and bind it in the fiery pits of Hades), but If I did, I would have had a field day yesterday. One of my favorite things to read are the obnoxious responses to Facebook misspellings. It provides hours of entertainment.

The number of people who legitimately don't know the difference is staggering. 

My absolute favorite Facebook grammar beatdown is this one. I want to find Mrs. Johanson and force her to be best friends with me. You know, in a non creepy way.

Happy Monday, everyone! May all your grammar dreams come true. Feel free to share your thoughts on National Grammar Day or grammar-related pet peeves in the comments. Bonus points if you talk like Yoda.

Grocery Shopping Makes Me Homicidal

I think I've mentioned before somewhere along the line about my utter loathing for grocery shopping (but that was a long time ago on my old blog which has since been shut down so I think it's time for a recap). Whether is the local supermarket or the fucking hell-on-earth called Walmart, I hate it all. I can't quite understand what goes through the minds of some of the miscreants that frequent these establishments.

If you haven't visited peopleofwalmart.com, you're missing out.

I've decided that the only way to hang on to the tiny shred of sanity I might have left is to wear the following t-shirt every time I'm forced to push my squeaky-whealed cart around a supermarket.

Need one? Click HERE for dark colors, HERE for light colors. Available in all kinds of styles.

Or this one...

Click HERE for dark colors, HERE for light colors. Also available in all kinds of styles.

I'm really hoping that this will force my fellow shoppers to give me a wide berth. And possibly just get the fuck out of my way when they see me coming.

Here are my top 5 pet peeves of the dreaded trip to the market:

5. The idiot that finds it necessary to drive his/her cart down the middle of the aisle at a snail's pace no less, not allowing me to pass. And then they stop right in the middle to peruse the shelves... I blow my fucking top.

4. The tandem shoppers who each have their own cart. Now don't get me wrong, I'm ok with this if they split the list and go their separate ways. I'm not ok with this if they travel through the aisles as a pair. Most likely these shoppers are elderly. Sorry, not an excuse.

3. The person who has no idea what they need and they stand on one side of the aisle while their cart is parked directly behind them on the other side of the aisle, completely blocking the whole thing. And then you think they'll just be picking up what they need and moving on... and you think wrong. They need to pick up every fucking can of vegetables trying to find the exact style of corn desire.

2. The pack leader who shows up at the store with not only their children, but at least a half dozen other random kids from the neighborhood. They move through the aisles as a loosely formed pack with an occasional straggler kid that almost always darts out directly in the path of my cart. And I'm usually hauling ass up and down the aisles. Get in, get out... that's my motto.

1. The tiny shopping cart. Yes folks, nothing makes me want to bash my head against the milk cooler more than the miniature carts designed for the kids to push around so they feel like they're doing the shopping. I'm pretty sure Fisher Price makes toys for that experience. Buy them. I thank everything that is holy for those not being available at my local grocery store. 

I sometimes feel like I'm the only one who despises grocery shopping. Is that true? Do you guys love it or hate it? Please... don't make me feel all alone!

Reckoner Part VIII [Twilight Fan Fiction]

Well hey hey hey,

Sorry about the whole not posting last week situation. All I can say in my defense is, well. Nothing, actually. This scene was just really super duper tough to write, because there's a ton of action and writing action is not my forté, as they say. I'd written this scene many, many times before and never got it right. It took the interference of both Snarkier Than You and dear old Mr. Myg to get me through it this time. To be perfectly honest, this chapter (chapter? scene? whatevs...) is a collaboration between me and Mr. Myg. Meaning, I wrote it, and he rewrote it and literally just deleted and rewrote entire paragraphs, which I then tweaked. So I suppose we co-wrote this one, which is pretty damned cool if you ask me. I hope you'll enjoy it.


We either have one or two more posts to go before we're done here. Not sure yet. After that I'll be compiling into a .pdf and an ebook so remember, if you donated to FGB you are welcome to have copies of those. Just email me at mygdala (at) gmail and I'll add you to the list. That said, I think Latchkey Wife has me on the posting schedule for every Friday in March so if I run out of Reckoner I suppose I'll have to spam you all with pictures of Ioan Gruffudd. You'll thank me. Eventually. I think.


If you're new to Reckoner, a quick recap: This is a prequel to Osa Bella in Edward's point of view. I wrote it for Fandom Gives Back but wasn't able to finish it, so Twitarded let me post it here. If you'd like to start it, please go here and scroll all the way down, click older posts until you get to the end, and then read from the bottom up. Or just email me your FGB receipt and wait until I send out the full thing.


Thanks to those of you who have been reading this and giving me feedback on it here and on Twitter (I am @Myg on Twitter, fyi). You truly make it all worthwhile.


Love,
Myg

RECKONER PART VIII

They’ve brought us to the edge of the woods, Edward. We’re standing at the bottom of that sloping western pasture on the Kaine Estate. The one not accessible from the road. They’ve lit a fire and the flames are at least twice as tall as you. Smoke is billowing to the south. I have no idea how they’re keeping a fire this big under control with the wind so strong tonight—it’s a wonder it doesn’t spread into the trees. Someone must be using magic to contain it, but who? It can’t be Allston—Oh God, I hope they didn’t get a witch involved.

All the Kaines are here now, so that’s ten of them and the two of us. I realize these are not good odds, but I have a plan. If I can distract them for a minute, you can shake off the three holding you, right? Timothy has your left shoulder, and he’s pretty easy to drop. The problem is Mark has your neck and he’s quite strong. If you lose your head you won’t be able to do much fighting. But if we lose, so be it, right? We can’t just let them burn you without a fight. I won’t face eternity letting you die like this. I can’t believe Carlisle left you on our own. I never would have imagined… Wait…

Edward, the dead man’s family is coming now, and they look like their insides have been replaced with…I don’t know. Lead, maybe. There’s a draining, heavy kind of energy about them—that must be the grief. But there’s something else there, something churning and hot and I’m not sure what it is. Secrets. Very dark secrets, I’m guessing. Oh God, this is awful. They’re all in black except the older woman, I think it’s his mother. Yes, it must be her. She’s in a burgundy wool cape and there’s a thick, black wool scarf wrapped around her head. There’s a young woman holding her hand. It looks like there are two other sons besides the daughter—I’m assuming that’s her daughter—and they are all churning black grief and red rage in their abdominal cavities. They’re coming over to you now. Oh sweet Jesus, Edward, this is terrible.

I’m going to start a riot. I will take the father out first. If I make it bloody enough, some of these vamps will get a good, strong bloodlust on and we might have a chance to get away. We’ll run to Canada and get a flight to Spain. I know how you love Barcelona. So that’s the plan, then. I’m going to let them get into position here and then I’m taking out the father. Maybe I should take the daughter? She’s the youngest and probably has the sweetest smelling blood. I’ll make it so bloody every vampire on the hill will lust, I swear. I’m not letting them just take you without a fight. I know you’re listening. Just turn your right foot out and let me know you’re with me. You’re not turning your foot, Edward. Okay fine then, move  your left pinky. Come on, Edward. Don’t let them slaughter you, please. For me? Fight.

I didn’t signal Mercy because I wasn’t even remotely hopeful her plan would do anything besides get her killed right along with me. If I was going down, so be it. I wasn’t happy about it, but I was past existential regret by then. I just didn’t want Mercy to die.

I couldn’t see a thing with the tape over my eyes and the canvas bag on my head so I listened carefully to all of the threads of thinking from the vampires in that pasture for any insight into what Allston had planned for Mercy after I was dead. Then Allston’s very targeted message came through.

Edward, I know Mercy will do something stupid to try to save you, and as much as I am loathe to credit you with anything, I know you know a bad bet when you see one. When Mercy makes her move, you will have a choice. You can fight and then bear witness as I personally maim and then burn her to death. Or, you can let me subdue her and if I’m feeling generous, I might let her live. How’s that for an easy decision?

I couldn’t hate this fucking guy more. I swore if I ever lived to kill again, he would be first on my god damned list.

The taste and stench of the gasoline-soaked rag in my mouth was overwhelming and killed any chance I had of using scent to orient myself. The heat and the roar of the blaze behind me reminded me I was one wrong step away from being cooked. Mark had his hands wrapped tightly around my neck, gripping the base of my head to keep me from running once Timothy and Adam tore my arms from me. They were waiting for Allston to give the signal, but they’d been ordered to go ahead if I gave any signs of trouble. They’d burn my arms and legs and make me watch before taking my head, just so I could have the most fucked up death possible. They looked forward most to the moment Allston would rip my head from my shoulders himself, and Allston was nearly giddy contemplating that moment in as much detail as possible for my benefit.

You! A desperate, screechy sounding thought penetrated my own. You killed my boy!
“I present you with Edward Cullen,” Allston said as the Kaines pushed me forward towards the bereaved family.

“Cullen?” The gruff voice of an older man sounded disbelieving. “I know the Cullens. They don’t hunt humans. What is this?”

“He didn’t do it!” Mercy shouted. “You’ll have no satisfaction from his death. There’s no justice in it!”

“Where is the real killer?” the man demanded.

“You’ll have to ask him,” Allston said. “He’s the only one who seems to know, and he’s not talking.”

“I want to speak to it.” A woman’s voice, matching the one I’d heard in my head, was strained with grief.

“He can hear you, Mrs. Reynolds,” Allston said. “Speak your mind.”

“I want to look into its eyes.”

“Why? It won’t make any…” Allston started to argue, but stopped when the bag on my head flew off as though a specific gust had forced it from me.  

Allston began to mentally grope for the right response, and it was then I knew he was afraid. That’s when I had my first glimmer of hope.

Allston ripped the duct tape from my eyes and I whipped my head around to survey the scene. Mercy was behind Allston, with two females on either side of her. They were closer to the tree line and too close to the fire. Mercy looked worried, but determined, too. I turned and saw the silhouette of my form cast a shadow, a second cloud of darkness over the grieving family. There wasn’t much that could have broken my spirit more than gazing into the eyes of a murder victim’s mother, no matter how awful the man had been.

My heart, my heart, my dead, black heart… you have no idea what you have done to me, creature… Her eyes glazed over with thick tears, red and orange light reflecting in the whites of them, her grey face warmed by the fire’s glow.

“You will tell us who killed my son,” she said.

“It’s not a good idea to let him speak,” Allston said. “He’s weakened from our preparations but he still has some of his… capabilities.”

The woman laughed a sad, sick laugh. “What are you more afraid of, Allston? His words or his bite?”

Allston hesitated as I looked at him. I cocked an eyebrow to taunt him and he glared back before ripping the tape from my mouth. You cannot win, Edward, he warned. I promise you I will rape, torture and murder Mercy right here, right now, in the most hideous spectacle you can imagine if you so much as try.

From behind him, Mercy urged me. Make blood, she thought. As much blood as possible. Go for the girl—it’s our only hope.

I spat the rag out onto the ground at Allston’s feet and a spark from the fire caught it and it burned into the dead grass. Allston stepped quickly away, frowning. I turned to face the woman, tuning into the churn of her troubled thoughts.

“I’m the one responsible for your son’s death,” I said.

“You don’t have a killer’s eyes,” she said as she stared into mine, disbelieving. “Look at these other vampires. I’d sooner believe it was one of them.”

“You’re welcome to kill one of them instead,” I said, turning on every last bit of charm I had left.

The Kaines laughed. “Oh, I’m sure,” Allston said. Go on and try then. Oh, please do…

“You didn’t kill my son,” the woman insisted, her face twisted with anger and anguish. “Why are you saying you did?”

“I marked him,” I said, looking at Mercy from the corner of my eye, who silently urged me to stop charming and start killing.

“But why?” the woman asked, and the look on her face was more painful to me than just about any look I’d ever seen cross a face. There was no beating, no breaking, no burning that would injure me the way this grieving mother’s perfectly reasonable question did. But I had no answer that seemed adequate.

“Because I’m a vampire,” I said, unable to read the flurry of words and feelings and rage in her mind.

“No!” she yelled in my face. “Don’t lie to me.”

Edward… Mercy’s thought broke through. She’s… a…

“You’re a witch,” I said. Her broken smile was all the confirmation I needed.

We are in deep trouble here, Edward. I’m taking the girl out in ten seconds, Mercy thought, her mind racing with anger and panic as she called out her inner killer. Ten… Nine… Eight…

“No,” I said, but before I could stop her, Mercy lunged at the witch’s daughter and put her in a hold, her arms wrapped around the girl’s waist, her mouth poised over her neck for the deadly kiss.

In the confusion, Mark let his grip around my neck ease slightly and that was all I needed. I knocked him and Timothy to the ground and grabbed Mercy just before she sank her teeth into the girl. Adam grabbed my neck but I kicked him in the gut and he staggered back, too close to the fire. A stray spark caught his jacket and in an instant he went up in flames, a plume of green and gray smoke and ash ascending.

“God damn it!” Allston cried as the rest of the Kaines closed in around us, alarmed and enraged by the sudden, surprising loss of one of their own. “Burn them! Now!”

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her!” Mercy cried. Mercy clung to the witch’s daughter, who didn’t bother to struggle against her. Somehow the girl already looked lifeless, resigned, her thoughts a swirl of grey fog. Unreadable, unknowable.

The witch towered over us, now twice her original size, her arms long and thin, her feet hovering inches off the ground. Her face was contorted in anguish and rage.  

“Come here, Jenna,” the witch commanded to the girl. “The vampire won’t hurt you. She’s a humanitarian. See the amber of her eyes? Don’t be afraid.”

Mercy bared her teeth and hissed and I stepped back from her, impressed at her display of aggression. I’d never seen Mercy as a real killer, not even back when I first met her and she still was one. It never seemed to fit her, but here she was, downright terrifying.

“Take Edward!” Allston commanded his coven, but Mercy put her lips to the girl’s neck and the witch’s eyes grew wide with fear.

“Stay where you are!” the witch cried.

Do it… the girl thought. Please just do it now…

“Let us go!” Mercy cried. “Or I’ll kill her right now.”

“I just want to understand, creature,” the witch said to me, her eyes softening as she faced her daughter, encircled in Mercy’s arms. “You are a humanitarian—why would you mark my son for death?”

“He’s a decree hunter from Boston,” Allston said. “He’s killed plenty of humans.”

“Reckoner?” the witch asked, her eyes wide now. “You’re the Reckoner?”

“I was,” I said.

“Then why my son?” she asked.

What the hell is that? The thought came from Timothy Kaine, who along with every other vampire there turned to look towards the woods, from where a wickedly sweet, pungent scent drifted, carried on a stiff breeze, cutting through the smoke billowing off the fire. Human blood. The scent was so overpowering I nearly reeled from it myself, and as it grew stronger every vampire there, even Allston, began to think of slaughtering and draining the human family who stood there unaware.

Where is the human blood scent coming from? Mercy thought. It’s making me dizzy… and this girl smells so good, Edward. So good…

“Give her to me,” I whispered, and pulled the girl from Mercy’s grasp. She didn’t even try to break free.

“Tell me!” the witch bellowed in our faces.

“Fine,” I yelled back. “I marked him because—”

“He was a rapist!” Rosalie’s voice finished my sentence with a ferocious howl tinged with the crackle of the fire it came from, not around us but within her, hot and vengeful. She, Carlisle, Emmett, Alice, Esme and Jasper all emerged from the tree line and with them, that overpowering scent of fresh human blood grew exponentially. They were covered in it. It was smeared on their faces, running from their mouths. Blood soaked their clothes, reflected blackly on their skins, and clotted in their hair like corruption on the scales of Medusa’s serpentine coils. Terrifying and glorious, and I couldn’t have been more grateful to see them, or more sorry as I knew the coming battle would be all our ruin.

You’re all dead, Edward, Allston thought. Every last Cullen.

“Holy mother of God,” Chief Reynolds whispered at the sight of them.

“So it was you?” the woman shouted at Rosalie, stared into her red eyes. “You killed him!”

“Yes, I did!” Rosalie cried. “And it was better than he deserved.”

The witch’s face contorted in agony. She tugged at her greying hair, and then cried, low mewling sounds that cut through my skull like a bandsaw. She pounded her own skull with her fists.

“You!” she cried, shaking her fist at her husband. “You could have stopped this!”

“How?” Chief Reynold’s was red in the face, his pulse pounding so loud in his chest I thought he might go into cardiac arrest any minute. “How could I stop a vampire from killing him?”

“Not the vampire, the boy, the boy,” she cried. “Jenna told you last year what happened, and you did nothing!”

Last year? I’d been telling you both for years how he used to come into my room at night… Why did you think I asked for a handgun when I turned thirteen? The young woman’s thoughts were a chilling arrow straight through the heart of my intentions, her eyes black and wide with rage. I tightened my arms around her.

“We offer a truce,” Carlisle said. “Let Edward and Mercy go and we’ll be done with this sad business.”

“Done with it?” the witch seethed and stepped into Carlisle’s face. She was taller than he now, her face graying and flickering in the light of the fire that began to burn higher, more intensely, slowly encroaching on where we all stood. It roared and sparks began to fly from the top, into the trees. The careful control that had kept the blaze contained there began to erode and it began to spread slowly across the field, towards the woods. “Do you think this is a grief I will ever be done with? Fool!”

“Should you suffer more losses then?” Carlisle asked, gesturing to her daughter and two other sons. “Can you kill us all before you lose another child?”

“I want that one!” she yelled, pointing at Rosalie. “Then I will have justice!”

“You will take no child of mine,” Carlisle said. “I don’t care what your grievance is.”

“Kill the Cullens! Now!”” Allston shouted. The Kaines flew towards us then, all but Timothy who in the flurry of movement tackled Chief Reynolds and bit him on the back of the neck. The man cried out and but was silenced quickly and twitched beneath Timothy’s pulsing body.  The kill caused several other Kaines to pause in their assault and debate whether to attack us or the remaining Reynolds family. Carlisle pulled Timothy from the ground and throttled him. In their struggle, Carlisle pushed him so hard, he stumbled back into the fire and then disappeared in a funnel of smoke. “Burn them!” Allston cried. “Burn them all!”

With the death of Timothy, the rest of Allston’s coven charged, fueled with hatred and fear as they came at us, bodies clashing, teeth gnashing into iron bones. Two females pulled at Alice’s arms and Mercy and Jasper dropped them while on the opposite side of the fire Emmett and Rosalie fought alongside Carlisle and Esme as they brawled with the other Kaines.

I let Jenna go and whispered “Run… run as far as you can. Into the forest…” because I was going to kill Allston. No matter what else happened, I wanted to be absolutely certain that motherfucker was dead when this was over. Jenna didn’t run, she just stepped to the side and then he came at me with teeth bared. I lunged at him and we collided in mid-air, Allston twisting so that he landed on top of me as we struck the ground. I felt his teeth on my neck, tearing at my throat.

I drove my left hand up under his jaw, pushing his head up and away from me. I used the momentum to roll back and throw him off of me. As I stood I saw the witch walk into the fire, right into it, but the flames didn’t touch her at all—they parted. She was surrounded by flame, licking at the hem of her skirt, dancing up her arms, encasing her like an aura, and then she walked back out, her arms stretched out in front of her. In them she held an orb of fire, the size of a cannon ball.

Emmett had just pulled two Kaines off Rosalie but they in turn managed to pin him to the ground next to her. I could see her neck was broken from the odd angle of her head where she lay on the forest floor. She was vulnerable, twitching as she waited for her neck to repair itself. The witch’s sons held her down and the witch carried the fire and held it out, right over where she lay.

“No!” I tried to yell but no sound came out.

“I am tired of your kind,” the witch said to Rosalie. “You think you have any right to kill my son? To justice? Look at you, lustful, soulless filth. You are no human--you will always be more foul than the most wretched human alive.”  

As she was about to drop the fire on Rosalie, Jenna threw herself protectively over her, and the witch faltered and stepped back from them. “Traitor!” she called, looming over, larger than even Emmett. “You would protect the monster who killed your own brother?”

“Killing her won’t erase what’s already done!” Jenna cried. “We should leave this place!”

Emmett broke free and tackled the witch at the knees. She fell to the ground and there was a sound like shattering glass as the ball of flame landed on her, just missing Emmett’s face. He leaped up and jumped away from the witch, back to Rosalie and Jenna. The witch rose, levitating as she had before, her legs hanging like cadavers from her long skirts, her mouth speaking some necromantic tongue, fingers tracing in the air. Fire began to roll off of her, cascading onto the ground. She began to turn, to spin, slowly at first and the fire spread out to the edge of the clearing where a tree caught fire, and then another. As the witch spun faster, five trees ignited at once and the flames began to leap from tree to tree. The witch’s sons carried Jenna off to the north, protected from the flames by some other unseen spell, running from the conflagration as the battle continued. Clearly under the witch’s control, the flames circled around, sealing our escape. “You will all die here!” she shrieked. “Burn in hell, where you will never end and never begin again!” And then she stepped through the flames as they closed off any chance we had of running to the north. We were surrounded.

“What do we do, Alice? What do we do?” Rosalie shouted.

“I can’t see,” said Alice. “I don’t know.”

In a panic, Mark tried to run through a section of flame that was no higher than our knees, but as soon as he touched it, he went up in a flash like dry tinder, and was gone a moment later into ash and smoke. All the vampires, Kaines, Cullens and all, huddled in the middle of the field looking for some way out.

“Look what you’ve done!” Allston roared. “Mercy, can’t you do something? A counter-spell for the fire?”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t practiced magic in a century!” she cried. “You brought this on all of us, you ass! You trusted a witch and thought she wouldn’t turn on you? Fool, fool, fool!”

“I’ll at least have the satisfaction of watching you die first!” He said and came at me again. He caught my head and the force of the blow was disorienting. I heard scraping and felt my neck tear where he had bitten me. He was separating my head from my body.

Carlisle and Emmett pulled Allston off of me, kicking and struggling while the remaining Kaines stood by watching, apparently having lost the will to fight. Esme and Rosalie grabbed Allston by the legs and I felt Alice and Mercy pull me to my feet, drag me away from the encroaching line of flames. Then Carlisle himself, the pacifist, charged at Allston and the two of them tumbled into the line of flame.

I wanted to shout but I still couldn’t speak. We watched, horrified as we were certain Carlisle was about to burn right along with Allston, but instead he fell on top of him and for just a second, the fiery fence opened. A tongue of flame caught Allston’s sleeve and his arm caught fire. Carlisle jumped back just before the fire could touch him and a moment later Allston was nothing but a tower of black flame. Another moment and he was gone. I was too awed to be disappointed I hadn’t killed Allston myself.

The fire burned higher, brighter, spreading into the forest in a boil of smoke and blue and red flame. We were all dead, I was sure of it. There was nothing to be done. As my family huddled there in the center of the fire, there was so much I wanted to say to each of them but with my neck still healing, I still couldn’t speak. I wanted to tell them how sorry I was, how much each and every one of them meant to me. How they made life worth living and how I would have done anything to keep them out of harm’s way. How with everything I mistakenly thought I’d lost, in that final moment I realized what I’d had all along but couldn’t see—and it was each and every one of them. How badly I wanted to thank Mercy especially for her loyalty and her trust and how sorry I was then I’d never loved her the way she truly deserved.

I felt my vocal cords knit back together. I was about to open my mouth and say it all while I still could. But then I couldn’t speak because right there in the moment when I could least stand to see it, I saw her—the woman I’d loved and lost. I must be dying, I thought. This must be the end, because this vision was more tangible, more real, more vivid than any other I’d ever had of her. Her face was so close I could almost touch it.

Good bye, Edward. Mercy turned and gave me a pained, hopeless look.

“Mercy…” I whispered as I reached for her. She took my hand and squeezed it tight and I pulled her into an embrace and we both fell quiet inside.

I’m sorry, Edward. This is my fault. Thank you for trying to save me. Rosalie clung to Emmett, and all Emmett could think was, Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Jasper held tightly onto Alice and was sending out all of the soothing, loving energy he had left in him and I’m sure it helped because after Carlisle and Esme shared a final kiss, Esme reached a hand out to me.


“At least we’re all together,” she  said. “We still have each other.”

“Right,” I said. “No one can ever take that from us.”

Not even you, Edward, Carlisle thought. I’m glad you know it now.

“Carlisle…” I started, but then realized I had no idea how to finish.

His hand clasped on my shoulder and squeezed as I looked away. I love you too, son, he said.

We all moved closer, our heads touching, our arms linked together and our backs to the flame. The heat began to sear and I just prayed for a quick death for all of us. The roar grew louder, and louder, and then it didn’t sound like a fire at all, but a real roar. A terrifying, angry roar. I looked up and turned my head and then he was there—the great white bear, Midor, on his hind legs, bellowing up into the sky and clawing at some invisible opponent in the air. The fire had stopped its approach and was burning out in a ring around us.

Cold, heavy rain began to fall--a soaking torrent, drenching the trees and the ground and what was left of the fire. The stench of wet, burnt vegetation and ash choked us. Just beyond Midor was a troop of enormous black bears, possibly thirty in all. They began to roar, too, and approached us with terrifying, aggressive faces, teeth showing and haunches flexed. They were disturbed by all the blood that my family wore, that trick that had caused the Kaines so much confusion. They thought they’d slaughtered humans. They were shape shifters—how could they know Carlisle had taken the blood from the hospital?

“Run!” Carlisle commanded. “To Reckoner!”
~~~


And they're off! See you all next time, lovers.

Open Letter to the Old Man Moaning on the Train

Dear Mr. Moany McMoanfuck:

This morning started out like most mornings - I woke up late as fuck, rushed to shower and get ready and screamed profanities at all the cars in front of us on the way to the station because what the fuck why are you driving so SLOW??? while ML kept making sure the windows were rolled up.

 What the universe tells me. Every day.

Then I raced up the stairs to the train platform-- which is really more me stumbling up the stairs trying not have a stroke because I'm out of shape and drink too much-- before leaping throwing myself bodily onto the train just as the doors shut. Like a delicate flower. Or a bag of bricks. One of those.

Honestly? By the time I flopped into a seat and tried to catch my breath, I was pretty much done with the day and I'd only been up for 40 minutes. Which explains why I forgot my number one Rule of Goddamn Commuting.

Put in earbuds and turn on iPod. Immediately.

 I nicknamed mine "this is the only reason I haven't fucking strangled someone during my commute"...

So there I was, sans musical goodness piping into my ears, sitting on the train and trying not to blind myself with my eyeliner pencil when I heard you.

Moaning. Grunting. At first I thought perhaps you were in pain but... you sounded quite the opposite, if I do say so myself.

Now, I've heard lots of things on those rusting shit-boxes of transportation before but never did it sound like someone was shooting a porno in the seat behind me. Soap operas, yes. Porn? Not so much.

For the first two minutes, I kind of just sat there, one eye done all purty, making me look like Alex from A Clockwork Orange, but less ultra-violent and rape-y and more exhausted and perturbed. Because for the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to do.

 To be honest, I think my facial expression on a daily basis is very similar to his...

Do I turn around and confront you? I'll admit it was my first thought -- to indignantly stand up and lambast you for your pornographic behavior (because honestly, it sounded like you were fucking someone, albeit somewhat quietly) but I was afraid I was going to come face to one-eye with your penis and I've already seen a penis on public transportation and I'm still scarred from it.

Do I tell a trusted adult? Well, frankly, I trust my fellow commuters about as far as I can throw them, though I did tell an entire car full of them a few years ago about the guy sitting next to me who kept dropping his hand on my thigh under the guise of sleeping and that took care of the problem right quick. But what am I going to say? "Hey conductor, I think the guy behind me is jerking his purple-headed monster. Can you go look?"

 That's what happens to masturbators, mister!! Go jerk off in the train station bathroom like everybody else!!

No, that wouldn't do. So instead, I just sat there like a fucking jackass, listening to you mewl and grunt because I just couldn't bring myself to look. Thankfully, you stopped after about 10 minutes and I turned on my iPod and fell asleep.

But I totally saw you when you got off the train in New York, Mr. Moany McMoanfuck. You, with liver spots and salt & pepper hair, in your crisp fancy-man grey suit. I was the one in pigtails who was looking at you like you just took a shit in the aisle, by the way.

Here's the thing - all day long, I've been wondering just what the fuck you were doing behind me for ten minutes that made you so ecstatic with pleasure you were goddamn moaning and groaning on a public train.

Were you really fapping back there? If so, gross to the Nth degree, dude. Or maybe you were deep throating a particularly savory banana? Does doing a crossword puzzle get you off? Were you learning an alien language that sounds exactly like moans of ecstasy? Or perhaps you were watching an episode of Downton Abbey, because apparently everyone is orgasming over that show.

I just don't know. It's probably better that I don't.

At any rate, I hope you cleaned up after yourself.  And I memorized both the car number and the row you were in.

That seat is dead to me now, thanks to you.

No love,
Jenny Jerkface