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Embodiment of contradictions
 Post subject: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Sun Dec 02, 2012 12:26 am GMT 
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A few things (People I showed had these questions, just gonna sweep em out the way):
-This is probably a third of the intro. I plan it on being like 30k-35k fic depending on how not lazy I am.
-It's not EXACTLY PG but it's not AO either. Sorta T. Maybe M. (Read: F words)
-The whole crux of it is an alternate timeline dealy. Pig farmers never did their thing, Marigold disbanded their operation (Asa got cold feet), May was able to just sorta float along. Things degraded. It's about a year and a half after they should have been all shot up and stuff.
-Yes Rocky's acting like a total D, that's related to the point above. His mood went all *shrivel* from being treated like a tool for so long with nothing to vent on. It'll be explained further on.

I only lightly edited this, so feel free to RYANO

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The speakeasy hadn’t been the kindest place recently. I knew this in part because the band; an ensemble of guys probably not rough enough to tip over a cow, were now tasked with unloading shipments from the battered truck that somehow made it back to the café again. “Why are we doing this again.” Zib asked, an extra layer of irritation coating his usual rash tone. The Bassist and trumpeter chipped in with indifferent grunts. They didn’t really care; at least they were getting paid.
“Because Miss May told us to, Zib.”
“I don’t exactly see her eager to help.”
“Well yeah, that’s cuz she’s 5’5 and drunk enough to call me Atlas.”
That was another thing. Mitzi had been hitting the bottle pretty hard for the past few weeks. From what I could glean, downriver supply had been raided, and the supply from the country was being encroached by larger gangs with classier names. I didn’t really see how using up all our supply would really help us get more, but I wasn’t really in charge of things. For all I knew this place would be on fire constantly without her guiding it. I just wish she’d quit.
“Just move them down these stairs and the lunk will get em’ when he comes back.”
“IF he comes back.” Zib said with a smirk.
“Ughe. Just do what she said so you can get back to sleazing it up at the bar.”
Zib seemed like an asshole to anyone that didn’t know him, but we all knew it was in jest. His whining had almost become as relaxing as his music, albeit not at all. I knew we were all under pressure, what with being paid less and less each month and the constant threat of being perforated looming over our heads every time someone came through the door and ordered some toast. We were all entitled to a little bit of bitching.
I grabbed another case from the back and walked it down the stairs to the damp, surprisingly warm cavern entrance. We’d been at it for about half an hour now, and the stack was getting sizeable. It still wasn’t as big as it used to be though. On the way back up, I noticed the other two guys were sitting on some crates, slouching like a king.
“So you guys are done already?” I asked.
“Well yeah.” The bassist replied, “We didn’t spend all our time fucking around with our makeup like Zib over there.” He pointed at him as he walked by, and Zib replied by sticking his tongue out, striking a sexy pose and biting his lip. “You’re just mad cuz’ I’m pretty.” He replied in a sultry tone.
“Yeah, that’s about the only damn reason May keep you ‘round, twinkletoes.”
Taking a step toward Zib, I grabbed his tail and yanked him sideways, taking my free hand and cupping his asscheek. “And I think I found the other reason too!” I said, barely containing my chuckling.
Zib pirouetted, putting his hands on his hips and looking down on me with a pouty face. “That is no way to treat a lady!”
“Yeah, but it’s the only way to treat a WHORE!” the bassist said, bursting into laughter. It was pretty infectious, and we all were laughing and giggling for the next few minutes. It was times like this that made you forget how many times I was shot at this week. Or punch. Or stabbed. The little things; the company of some cool guys. We probably couldn’t go through hell together but we were surviving purgatory.
With half my help gone, and Zib being about as useful as a bag of wet tissues, it took probably an hour to unload the rest of the stacks in the truck. It almost seemed like he was going slow just to piss me off. Well, he probably was anyway, to get back at me for the molestation. I swear I even heard him dragging it once while I was still in the cave. I came back up the stairs and saw him slouched over the box, face pressed into the concrete floor. He was just sitting there, breathing in and making a noise through his lips like a card stuck in a bike’s spokes. I was more than irritated at him, so I walked over and kicked him in the hip.
“The hell is wrong with you?” I said rashly, his face still buried in the floor.
“I’m dying.” He said, finishing with a huff. He didn’t even twitch a muscle.
“We’re all dying, stop being a drama queen about it.”
His only response this time was an odd, longwinded and alternating rattle, almost guttural. Most people would try CPR after hearing it, but I knew it was just him making molehills again. I kicked him in the same spot, harder this time. He fell off the crate and landed on his back, his hat rolling off somewhere. He took an arm and extended it, pointing at me in an almost hypnotically slow fashion, fingers and arm slouched as if to add an exclamation point to his tyraid of “I’m tired”.
“What is with you and my ass today.” He asked with an oddly serene face. No… Not serene. Was that his serious face? I could never tell.
“I need you to get said ass moving. You’re my only help right now.”
“Yeah, well, do you really needa get it moving by raping me?”
“Oh come off it you fucking drama queen.”
“Hey, I’m not the one trying to get off here.”
I heard spittake laughter from someplace over by the crates. At least someone was enjoying this. I dunno. Maybe I should join in on this little charade. “Serious” was a concept that only seemed to bounce off Zib most of the time, as long as his life wasn’t in danger; and I certainly wasn’t brawn enough to choke him to death. I put my palm on my forehead and rubbed the temples, dragging it down and slathering the rest of my face. Normally I was game for stuff like this but I really wasn’t in the mood recently. My jaw clenched, and I put one hand on my hip like he did earlier.
“Okay fine. I like your ass. Men like lady’s asses. Happy?”
I could see a stupid grin crack over his face. Yeah, that’s what he wanted. He was happy. But god forbid he do something yet. He took the arm he had in the air and extended it further, reaching over and rubbing the inside of my thigh, down the knee and back up again. He did his best sexy laugh, and said:
“Oh my, I do quite understand that sir. But you see, you can’t just go to the ass of any woman you fancy and start touching it around like that. It’s quite rude you know. You have to get to know her first.”
With that, he finally sat up, putting his head to the side of my hip and looking up at me with googly eyes. “How’s about you uh… Do a lady a favor, and take some of this work off my shoulders, huh?”
I swear his rubbing got dangerously close to my pelvis somewhere around “Favor”, and the way he said it didn’t exactly cull my suspicions. I shook him off my leg, tipping him back to the floor with a flumf.
“Or; how’s about you get back to work, lest I tell miss May who’s been stealing the bottles of vodka out of her office.”
His eyes became little o’s when I said that, frowning and looking to the side. Yeah, it was a bit of a low blow, but the only nerves he had were all below the belt. To be honest though, I wouldn’t tell her even if Zib didn’t do a damn thing. With the way she’s been acting lately I had no idea if she would have him shot in an alleyway somewhere. Her kindness seemed to have just evaporated with the supply of alcohol. While I was irritated at him, I didn’t want him killed. I picked up the crate he had and carried it back down to the rest of them.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
We were almost back to the bar now. The caves were kinda big; easy to get lost in, but we had a sort of road map in our head. The ground had a way of alternating between rock and dirt, a concept lost on me. I dunno why I was bothering to ponder about it. I guess I was just kinda bored; the walk was long, and I was trying to get my mind off something. The band wasn’t the chattiest bunch and I was still on awkward terms with Zib after what I’d said.
It took another few minutes to get to where we were going, and by then my brain was in a sea of fuzzles. I was about ready to snap at anyone; luckily the bar was empty. As to why I counted myself lucky that we were out of business didn’t strike me yet. Us entering increased the population by at least %500. I saw Mitzi sitting at the bar, cheek slouched into the wood and one hand cupping a brandy glass of something. Probably not brandy. Probably motor oil and rotten apples. I really dunno. The only other person breathing in here was the pianist, who’d wrecked his ankle or something. He also made an excuse about “Delicate fingers.” Horatio was probably standing diligent on the other side of the door.
We split ways; me going over to Mitzi and the guys going over to bean on the chairs by the stage. I walked over and took a stool next to her, shaking her back to pluck her out of the stupor she was in. She didn’t respond, but after a few seconds, she let out a defeated sigh; a quick in-out breath that told me she was at least conscious.
“Hey… Miss. We did the thing you asked.”
I rubbed her back and patted a few times, doing my best to seem comforting but not make it look I was hitting on her. It took a while, but after a few seconds of silence from her, she stirred, resting her head on her arm.
“Thank you, Atlas, honey. I hope the goons weren’t too much of an issue.”
So she was still hammered. Not like I needed to confirm it, but that sure did. She probably couldn’t stand; let alone see more than an inch in front of her face. I really didn’t want to carry her up to her room again but it’s not like she’s recover from this in 3 hours, and nobody else was gonna volunteer. I sighed too; just like she did, but I didn’t really notice. Her booze injection had placed a lot more responsibilities on me than I was used to, and pay had gone the same direction as her mood. I mean, I used to just sing. Now I was a step away from being a very incompetent hitman/contraband runner. I don’t know why I haven’t just gotten another job yet. Well, I did know. While I was an incompetent hitman, I was also an incompetent everything else. Violin was about the only thing that didn’t explode in my face, and the options were pretty limited even within that. I also had a tendency to alienate people, or at least that’s how it seemed. Not even my cousin would talk to me anymore.
I realize I’d been silent for a while now; eyes fixated on a tile of floor behind the bar. My existential musings had captured all my attention. I rubbed her back again and said to her, eyes still stuck on that tile:
“Yeah hun… They weren’t a problem. I should probably go and check up on them though, just in case.”
“You go do that baby. I’ll keep watch on th’ supply.”
With that, she took a swig of the whatever in her glass, wincing as it washed down. I looked away, not much in the mood to look at her slipping away like that. I slipped away myself, back to the guys sitting by the stage. By the looks of it they hadn’t budged an inch since they flopped down in those big loafers. One had himself spread eagle almost, body in a large X as he studied the intricacies of the ceiling. The other guy was actually lying down across the arm of the thing, his 6’3 stature more than enough to drape all the way, making his head loll about as he had the floor covered. Almost like clockwork, Zib had eyes on the walls. Darty eyes. And wringy hands. And bitey lips. Perched on the edge of his chair, his eyes scanned all across the room, never seeming to really focus on one thing for more than a moment or two. While it was normal for him to leave his shirt unbuttoned, it seemed he’d opened a few new holes since I last checked. A rather annoying tap was heard, and I found it to be his heel as he clacked it down on the floor. His searching eyes eventually found something; namely, me. I notice them dilate a little, and he just sorta stopped. Froze, even. He stared like that, deer in headlights, for I dunno how long before scuttling up enough courage to remember how his body worked. He stole a look over shoulder and then got up suddenly, closing the distance to me. Extending an arm, he wrapped it over my shoulder and drug me over to a corner of the stage, away from the guys and out of earshot of the pianist. I was about ready to ask him what this was about, but I was interrupted by a raspy intake, his breathing almost sounding like he’d been crying or something.
“Please don’t.”
That’s all he said. Nothing else. He barely had the courage to even look up at me. He’d flick a look up at me, notice I was looking back, stare down at the floor, and repeat.
“The booze?” I said after a pause.
“Yeah.”
I gave a puff; Jesus, he was a wreck. I thought I was the worried one too. I just wanted him to cut the shit, but this…
“Zib, f-ahhh…” I rubbed my temples, mashing the skin in some magical way that managed stress. Usually he didn’t take this shit seriously. He’d just shrug it off and “Yeah right.” I’d never even thought of actually handing his ass over.
My lack of words seemed to have irritated him, and he grabbed my shoulders and roughly twirled me around to face the bar. I saw Mitzi. Still there. Still slouched over herself. Glass still in hand. I could describe a morgue as more lively.
He’d been rubbing my shoulder with his thumb the whole time; I dunno if it was just a tic but I started to notice. He was still staring at Mitzi, long after I stopped. His eyes were glazed, like he was deep in some memory somewhere. I tapped his chest once or twice to get his attention, and he jerked his head over to me.
“Rocky…”
“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t serious.”
“Yeah.”
“You okay?”
“I’ll be f… Fine.”
“I’m serious, don’t worry about it. You know me, I’d never do that.”
“I jus- I mean things aren’t really; well NORMAL. I don’t wanna stir up more than I should. Y’know?”
“Zib, just, shut up. Mean it in the nicest way. I regret even saying it. I like my friends in one piece.”
I think he lit up a little when I said friends. At least he LOOKED up, finally looking into my eyes for more than a second. Without another word, he threw his arms over me and drew me in for an oddly sober hug. A quick squeeze, and he let me go, drawing out with his hands still on my shoulders. He locked eyes for just a second, and then walked off back to his bandmates. I didn’t really know what to do. Just slump my shoulders, and see if I could get some dinner from the diner upstairs.
. . . . . . . . . . .

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 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 12:33 am GMT 
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Nicely written!
You have done a great job and the name sound so interesting hurp da derp :mrgreen:

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 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 9:52 am GMT 
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DISCLAIMER- When I'm in editor-mode I tend not to pull my punches. Nothing personal, just trying to help you out.

I'm making my notes "commentary-style", which is to say I'm jotting down what occurs to me as I'm reading. So if something confuses me at the beginning, that doesn't mean I'm still confused by the end.

1) I don't really picture Zib as the type to get irritated or rash. Sarcastic and laid-back and lazy, sure. I also never really thought of him as an asshole, but that could be my opinion versus general consensus. That said, I'm not sure "asshole" is a period term either, if that's a concern.

2) It's not clear who's narrating, though from your notes I'm guessing it's Rocky...the narrator doesn't, to me, sound like him though...there's not enough crazy for one thing. You might have Zib drop his name early if that's the case, unless your goal is to keep your readers guessing. From what I've read so far the narrator could just as easily be someone we've never seen before, and keeping their identity obscure could backfire. That said, writing a story from the perspective of a Lackadaisy character we know little (or nothing) of could be interesting as well...not that I know anything about that. :P

3) I'd suggest doing a more thorough edit of this, or finding an editor to help you out. For instance, two people would "slouch like kings" (plural). There's a bunch of other stuff that's minor (too minor for these notes) but registers with me as things that should be fixed.

4) As I noted above, if maintaining a Lackadaisy-appropriate tone is a concern, I'd suggest some revision/research. I'm not sure people would generally use terms like "fucking around" or "drama queen" in the '20s.

5) While it's been established that Zib's worn make-up on occasion, I don't really feel Tracy's made it clear how far he goes in that direction. You're obviously welcome to craft his character as you see fit, especially with things she hasn't expounded upon, but it seems a bit more fae than how I picture him in my head. But hey, YMMV.

6) "As to why I counted myself lucky that we were out of business didn’t strike me yet." - I'm not really sure what this sentence is trying to say.

7) Percent signs should follow the number, in my experience.

8) If you want to be snooty, a brandy "glass" is properly called a snifter. :)

9) I like the casual mention of Horatio. :)

10) It's rather sad to see "Martini Mitzi" reduced to such a state. I hope more information will be provided in-story about what happened. Where's Wick? If Marigold's no longer there, why did things keep going downhill? Confusing the narrator with Atlas is a nice and nicely alarming touch.

11) Okay, now I'm really confused as to who the narrator is. They used to just sing, which I'd think would make them Zib (and I considered you might have switched narrators at the break in the text), except Zib's already been referred to by the narrator. AFAIK Rocky only fiddled. So maybe this is a character who hasn't been in the limelight before then.

12) Ah, so the narrator apparently is Rocky. I'd like to hear more about why Freckle won't talk to him anymore, especially as I suspect that was a fairly major development. Maybe flashback to it later? Or are you planning to leave it as a missing piece?

13) Just as I found myself thinking you should describe the characters' appearances more...and I still think you should...you included the nifty part about how the band members were sprawled out. You seem to be capturing Zib's physical state especially well.

Overall, it's certainly an interesting piece, and I'm admittedly curious to see where you'll go with it..and what the states of other characters might be. But I do think you should have someone take a more thorough pass over it for grammar/syntax and all the little things when you think you've got it mostly finalized. More seriously, it doesn't quite feel to me like it's set in the world Tracy's established, mostly in terms of your depictions of the characters and the atmosphere you establish. There's nothing wrong with that, to be sure, but I guess what it boils down to is that, if your goal is to write something that could fit seamlessly into Tracy's world (alternate timeline notwithstanding), then I'm concerned that you may be writing the characters the way you want them to be rather than how they've been shown to be thus far.

There is another possible concern in that this seems to be being written for LD fans. Nothing wrong with that, but if you'd like it to be accessible for general readers, consider adding a bit more exposition.

Overall though, I'd call it a promising start, and I'd be curious to read more of it when it's available. The Zib-Rocky interactions are...interesting. In canon I pictured Zib as being by turns amused/concerned/mildly irritated by Rocky, so I'm curious about how things got here...or maybe they always were and the comic just never went there. Did Zib still have his argument with Mitzi? Is Dom Drago anywhere in the picture (probably not if Zib never went to jail)?

More please. :)

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Embodiment of contradictions
 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 10:53 am GMT 
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Answers to whats needs answers:

doniago wrote:
1) I don't really picture Zib as the type to get irritated or rash.

Not in cannon no, but alot of things happened. While Viktor was never shot, Mitzi still sends out Rocky and crew to do pickups from nasty people with bullets. Alcoholic boss who doesn't pay you and gets you shot at all the time has ways of smudging your mood. I'll explain it later on with corny flashback sequences.

doniago wrote:
unless your goal is to keep your readers guessing.

Bango. Like "Who is this jerk. What's he doing here. Stop being mean to Zib. Wow you're a D."
Zib: "Rocky..."
"Ooooooooh."
It's an attempt at establishing that Rocky isn't the same. The identity is kept in the dark so you get a rough idea what this mystery person is like and then DUN DUN DUUUU it's that guy you know and love.

doniago wrote:
I'm not really sure what this sentence is trying to say.

"I thought we were lucky because there was nobody around to give us money. Kinda ironic, given the situation."

doniago wrote:
Where's Wick?

Around. The meeting went off without a hitch, but it's not like they stuff the place to the doors every day. I mean a few hundred guys in full dapper heading into a diner is mighty suspicious. Wick mostly uses Mitzi as a supply of cheap whiskey.

doniago wrote:
why did things keep going downhill?

Mitzi made bad decisions. Tried a few things she regrets. Tried one thing she really regrets. Tried to drink it away.

doniago wrote:
AFAIK Rocky only fiddled

http://lackadaisycats.com/exhibit.php?exhibitid=217
Looks like he's singing there. As for cannon no idea.

doniago wrote:
Maybe flashback to it later? Or are you planning to leave it as a missing piece?

Both of these. It'll be explained.

doniago wrote:
I do think you should have someone take a more thorough pass over it for grammar/syntax and all the little things when you think you've got it mostly finalized

Admittedly I just sorta glossed over it and snipped and clicked here and there and everywhere. I use the Hemingway method of writing; IE sit at atypewriter keyboard and bleed.

doniago wrote:
Is Dom Drago anywhere in the picture

Iago you hound you, everything has to have some Drago in it. Good news: He's alive. Good news: he's placed Lackadaisy on low priority. Beige news: This means Dom and Zib will never meet.
you_and_the_SS_Dib.png

Everything else I will chalk up to OOOoOOoooOOooO artistic freedom (Cough he's copping out cough cough)
I probably missed alot in this post. Feel free to correct me.

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 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 2:37 pm GMT 
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Regarding the characters not seeming like who we understand them to be in the canon, it's obviously going to be a trick balancing things between reader expectations and what you can reasonably justify as what they could become given a different timeline and another year+ on top of known events. I can see Zib and Rocky developing into the personalities you've crafted for them...but in a full version of your story I will hope for some explanation as well, beyond "different timeline and in the future". :)

Keeping the reader guessing as to the narrator's identity is ballsy, but as I pointed out, also risky. People wanting to read a fan-fic filled with their beloved characters may not make it in far enough for the big reveal. Others may not easily adjust to the "new" Rocky, as I noted above. It may be a surprise (or may not given the hints you drop), but...I can see it going either way. Anyway, he never really struck me as a D, FWIW.
That said, I never really loved Rocky as a character, which may have biased me one way or another.

I concede the picture, but I don't consider that conclusive evidence that Rocky's a singer...he may just be mugging for the "camera". If it matters, you might consult with a higher power.

I mostly asked about Drago because if Marigold isn't around but Lackadaisy is, it doesn't seem completely improbable that LD could be on his radar more than it is in the canon timeline. Meeting Zib would be less likely though, unless that aspect of the timeline played out the same way in both tracks.

Anyway, I definitely find this an entertaining start to...something. :) Paradoxically I think you should reel Zib in a bit but make Rocky a bit more what we're used to. That said, you've got plenty of room to explain personality changes by filling in the missing pieces.

I look forward to seeing more!

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 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 3:20 pm GMT 
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doniago wrote:
I will hope for some explanation as well, beyond "different timeline and in the future".

I will hun, don't worry yourself. It's just the first chapter. Well, part one of four of the first chapter. If I may spoil a little bit, Mitzi had both a constant reminder of her husband (The bar) and a constant supply of booze. They overlapped. Zib tried to comfort her once, and she sorta exploded on him. Said a bunch of things. Salt, wounds, scars, the whole 9. The gist of it is that Zib doesn't love her anymore. They go without speaking for a week at a time now. That's also why he's acting a tad more on the colorful side. (Yes I'll have to invent some secrets between them, probably affairs and whatnot).

doniago wrote:
I don't consider that conclusive evidence that Rocky's a singer

I also went off his little ditty he did on the bridge. And by that I do mean "went off", I don't actually know if he sings. Would be nice to know. Suddenly the idea of Rocky singing in baritone comes to mind

doniago wrote:
if Marigold isn't around but Lackadaisy is, it doesn't seem completely improbable that LD could be on his radar more than it is in the canon timeline

Well Marigold is around. Insofaras I know, Marigold is a hotel, and Asa iced someone and had a speakeasy installed. Or something along those lines. I'm still trying to get a grip on this part, but it's either "Asa disappears into the somewhere" or "They get hit hard by the DEA/Whoever". I need to gloss over some cannon history before I decide that. Anyway, as for Lackadaisy, they just become more concerned with getting their suppliers than getting THEM. You take down a speakeasy, another one's gonna pop up in someone's basement. You take down a supplier, and there's no booze to START a speakeasy. They think the supply problem is gangsters, but it's actually just the 5-0 waiting to bust their sources.


You're more than welcome to look at my rough drafts Iago, just fly me one on AIM or steam. Thanks for reading.

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 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 9:07 am GMT 
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I wouldn't say that I'm "worried", since I'm not especially invested in the matter one way or another. But with my Editor hat on, I feel obligated to point out stuff that I think needs to be addressed if writing a good story is your goal, and in this case, epsecially if your goal is to write a LD piece that's accessible to existing readers, I think people are going to be frustrated if no good explanations are provided. But that's a big If and obviously you've got plenty of time to work that stuff out. :)

I'm slightly "amused" that in both the canon (note - one n) timeline and yours, things got to the point where Mitzi went off on Zib, though apparently for different reasons.
Arguably Zib shouldn't have feelings for her in the canon timeline either, at least not after their last "discussion". We'll have to wait and see how how that plays out though.
I'm still not sure I'm convinced that Zib would act more colorfully...it's still the '20s after all...but I'm willing to be convinced. :)

Word from on High is that Rocky does occasionally do backing vocals...and amusingly the source you provided came up in that discussion. So he's not necessarily a "singer", but he does sing. As for the ditty, I assumed he wasn't singing so much as soliloquizing, but I suppose that could go either way.

Marigold itself is, I believe, a speakeasy located withing the Hotel Maribel...but check the wiki. :p I don't think we've been given information as to how Asa came to be in charge of it, but he's always said he in turn reports to others, so...there's that. Marigold getting smacked down (by Dom?) is a possibility that the comic has certainly alluded to, so if your story's set a year later it may not be such a stretch.

I wouldn't mind reading more. :)

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DonIago

Award-winning fan-fic:Serve and Protect

Want more Viktor/Mordecai? Lackadaisy: Missing Linkage.

"I might know something about a wiki."

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Embodiment of contradictions
 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 1:29 pm GMT 
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Location: Alaska
Custom Title: Embodiment of contradictions
doniago wrote:
I wouldn't say that I'm "worried"

Form of speeeeeeech. I know.

doniago wrote:
it's still the '20s after all..

I'm not %100 certain on a damn thing, but smart people on tumblr told me there wasn't any prejudice or harsh intolerance until the 30's when the Navy started up gay manhunts (That doesn't sound odd at all) and Hollywood began firing previously openly gay actors like William Haines. Before that the attitude seemed to be some form of acceptance. Apparently it wasn't unusual for faes to hang around the docks to solicit the workers. They could have their way with him and not be considered gay.

But then again I got this info from tumblr. Long and short of it is that Zib's acting like a queen because someone thought he was one, and he went with it as a joke. A long running, intricate and waning joke. At some point he tried to replace that emptiness Mitzi left with it. I'll actually touch up on it in one of the chapters. The style is sort of a dual line thing; the current and the current in the past. The past will eventually link up with the beginning of the story.

doniago wrote:
Word from on High is that Rocky does occasionally do backing vocals

Excellent. I'll make some edits.

Thank you so much for the comments Donnie. And if you really, really want to see me write more then bug me constantly to stop playing video games. I need it.

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i_heart_dvorak wrote:
That's why you're my favorite.

You have a strange and evil mind on your shoulders, smarticus.


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Treasury Department
 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 2:18 pm GMT 
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Location: Burlington, VT
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Damn it Smarticus, stop playing videogames!

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DonIago

Award-winning fan-fic:Serve and Protect

Want more Viktor/Mordecai? Lackadaisy: Missing Linkage.

"I might know something about a wiki."

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Embodiment of contradictions
 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 2:23 pm GMT 
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Location: Alaska
Custom Title: Embodiment of contradictions
Do it over steam silly, I can't read this while trying to beat up the mayor in DarkRP.

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i_heart_dvorak wrote:
That's why you're my favorite.

You have a strange and evil mind on your shoulders, smarticus.


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Guys I totally write now.
 Post subject: Re: Hurp da derp derp Rocky fic
PostPosted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 2:59 pm GMT 
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Joined: Tue Oct 16, 2012 3:53 pm GMT
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Location: Virginian' boonies
Custom Title: Guys I totally write now.
spawn some melons


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