#I wanted to do that inner cover artwork vibe
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#the ancient magus bride#elias ainsworth#chise hatori#mahoutsukai no yome#I wanted to do that inner cover artwork vibe#cause I love yamazaki's inner cover illusts#esp that random ass mail box thing and the autumn leaves one
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[Image Description: Three fan-made Pokemon made to resemble plant-themed mammoths or mastodons.
The first Pokemon is a yellow baby mammoth with brown eyes, green feet, light green inner ears and trunk tip, and green hair on its head, back, and tip of its tail. It has its front feet in a position that appears like it’s going to start walking forward, with its head turned toward the viewer and a smile on its face. Green text outlined in darker green to its right reads “Haymuth”.
The second Pokemon is a lime green young mammoth with brown eyes, dull green inner ears, grass-covered feet and trunk, small beige tusks, and green hair that resembles soy plant leaves on its head. The tip of its tail resembles a soy bean pod. It is walking towards the left of the image and holding its trunk out. Green text outlined in darker green to its right reads "Soystodon".
The third Pokemon is a grassy green mammoth with dark green grass-like hair on its head, back, and feet, purple eyes, lavender inner ears, and long pale lavender tusks. It has small purple flowers growing from its grassy bits, and a large purple flower sprouts from the tip of its tail. It is walking toward the right of the image with its trunk held up and its head turned to look at the viewer. Green text outlined in pink to its right reads "Hedeomadon".
End ID.]
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Haymuth - Baby Mammoth Pokemon | grass
Often frolicking in tall grass, the hay-like hair on their body makes for the perfect camouflage to ensure their safety even in the moments when their mothers don’t have their eye on them. / Haymuth are incredibly playful, running around with abandon in tall grass and picking up objects with their trunks to use as toys. Great care should be taken to keep inappropriate objects out of their reach.
Soystodon - Young Pachyderm Pokemon | grass
Soystodon trunks are quite nimble and can often get into things that one may not expect. This often leads those living with humans to overeat when food is improperly stored. / While they are more independent than Haymuth, it is not uncommon to see them holding onto their mothers’ tails with their trunks. They do like to distance themselves from adults a bit more, but they are still young and still feel a need for parental guidance.
Hedeomadon - Royal Mastodon Pokemon | grass/fairy
The females travel in matriarchal groups with their young, while males either roam individually or in male-only groups. The groups reunite on occasion in order to breed at their discretion, usually when the pennyroyal plants are flowering. / Hedeomadon mothers are very protective of their young during early development, and separating Haymuth from their mothers for even a few minutes can be very distressing for all parties involved if done hastily. They are fine with letting trusted humans watch their young for them, however.
After a long amount of waiting to give that survey some time to garner responses before I got started working on the player illustrations, I'm finally back to posting Cantessy region content! So here's our grass starter Haymuth, now with their evolved forms Soystodon and Hedeomadon! I hope the one other person who picked Haymuth in that survey is still happy with their choice, there were two people who picked them and I only picked them because if this were gen 9 I'd be using a grass starter regardless XD
I wanted to go with the perceived theme of grass starters being based on extinct megafauna, so obviously I'm going to look at extinct animals that were around the Appalachian area in the past. and of course, the first prehistoric beast most think about when dinosaurs are taken out of the equation are mammoths. Fun fact, did you know that the first mastodon skeleton excavated and studied scientifically was found in Kentucky? It's true, and if you've heard of a place called Big Bone Lick, you know at least something about the place now because that's where they were specifically found. (it's called Big Bone Lick because there was a salt lick there that animals would get sodium from, as well as the obvious big bones found there). So with that in mind, I decided to combine mammoths and mastodons with agricultural stuff from around here. Was tempted to go with tobacco for one of them but ehhhh I don't think that'd be all that appropriate for a Pokemon, so I kinda just turned that into a name for a human character instead. (and yet the poison-type gym leader and her occupation exists...you'll find out later, hehe) Haymuth is, of course, utilizing hay in their design, while Soystodon obviously has soy. Hedeomadon is a bit more obscure. Their name comes from Hedeoma pulegioides, also known as the American pennyroyal, or "pennyrile" by local dialect. I literally didn't know it was a Thing that Existed until I started research for this project, let alone that it's a pretty big crop here. And the flowers kinda gave me a fairy vibe, so that's why Hedeomadon gains the fairy type.
In terms of gameplay if this were an actual game, the Haymuth family is gonna be more special-focused ant a bit bulky, with both special stats and HP being highest on baseline. They'll obviously learn a good amount of grass and fairy moves that take advantage of this along with some status moves, and when Hedeomadon has evolved they'll learn the move Royal Bloom, which acts similarly to Flying Press in that it works as both a grass and fairy type move in terms of super-effectiveness (and by that I mean it does double damage to the things that are weak to fairy as well as those that are weak to grass, but does normal grass damage on things that are neutral to or resist fairy). Is that broken? It might be broken, but at least the other starters get something like it so maybe that balances it out? I'unno, I'm a character designer, not a game balancer hehe. I mainly just get the visual for how it'd look, and I can imagine it being like a beam that gets fired out of Hedeomadon's tail blossom thing. That'd be cool o:
Also if anyone wants to suggest other moves for these guys to learn and some physical stats (ie. height and weight, I only have a height for the base form starters atm and no weights XD ), feel free to throw 'em at me :3 Links to their info pages will be provided in the replies!
💖🐶 Check out my pinned post for ways to support my artwork, among other things! 🐶💖
~If you like, please reblog to show your friends! Likes are appreciated, but reblogs let more people see my content! If you have something to say, feel free to give feedback in tags/comments/replies as well!~
Pokemon and related concepts © Nintendo/GameFreak
Haymuth, Soystodon, Hedeomadon, the Cantessy region, and artwork © PuppyLuver Studios
#pokemon#fakemon#cantessy region#haymuth#soystodon#hedeomadon#jess drew the thing#sfw#image description#long post
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Soulmate AU- Yang Jeongin
A/N: This probably isn’t my best writing but it is a really cute read for Jeongin <3
Word Count: 2130
It was no mistake this time. At first, Jeongin assumed maybe it was the boys messing with him, writing on his hand when he fell asleep and claiming not to minutes later. It was always a mystery to him, how beautifully drawn objects would magically appear on his arm. After noticing it a few times however, Jeongin seemed to mind it less. That was until he got caught for it.
“What is this?? On your arm?” Jeongin’s makeup artist asked, holding his hand up to reveal the small designs printed across it.
“Oh! Nothing..” Jeongin smiled nervously, slowly pulling his hand away from the makeup artist’s grip before she could explain, “We’re going to have to wash this off Jeongin, you’re wearing short-sleeve”
Jeongin rolled his eyes, of course his soulmate had to draw on their hand right at this moment. The lady practically dragged Jeongin to the nearest sink, lounging his arm in the water and scrubbing as hard as she could. “What is this?! Sharpie??”
“Umm.. I’m not sure” Jeongin muttered, making the lady groan. “We’re going to have to make you wear something long-sleeved.” As much as Jeongin hated wearing long-sleeves during a concert, he knew it was what he had to do. He had only been in Seoul City for a week but the drawings on his arms were getting bolder- more prominent. Little did he know that was where his soulmate lived.
----
A loud shriek came from your sister’s room. God, it took you by surprise, causing you to jump in your seat and make a mistake on your new mural.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T GO??!!” Your sister exclaimed on her phone, “We planned this for so long..” A few seconds later you hear your sister barging into your room, you quickly throw a sheet over your art. Cursing yourself you thought about the paint which still wasn’t dry, either way you already messed up because of your sister.
“Hey, you have to go to the Stray Kids concert with me, my friend just cancelled”
You nearly choked on your spit, how could she ask you to go to a concert that was going to begin in a few hours?
“Um no? I have artwork to do” You replied, shoo-ing her out of your room and slamming the door just for her to open it again.
“Does it look like I care? Quit talking about your dream of making art and come with me. It’ll be fun!” She said, giving her fakest smile before leaving the room.
“God, I seriously can’t-” You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before getting ready and leaving for the concert.
----
On your way to the concert, you looked out the window to admire the view. A pen inside the cup holder had you writing things on your hand, one thing stood out to Jeongin when he saw it appear on his as well.
SKZ
“S-stray kids?!” Jeongin gasped to himself before putting his hands behind his back.
“What are you looking at?” Hyunjin asked with a smile as he approached the boy. “Nothing!” Jeongin giggled before continuing his exercises.
---
You had to admit, even though you had never listened to Stray Kids, the adrenaline that ran through you during the concert lasted the whole two hours and was still with you as you got ready for the Hi-Touch.
“So basically, all you do is give them a high five! Pretty cool right!” Your sister exclaimed.
“You paid $200 to give them a high five?”
Your sister rolled your eyes, leaning closer to you before whispering, “So here is my plan, when I see Chan- one of my favorite members- I’m going to try to interlace my fingers!!” She squealed as your face turned into a look of disgust.
“God you’re obsessed” You muttered before security could place you in line.
Waiting in line, you couldn’t help but to feel a tingle from your arm. God, was it an allergic reaction? Maybe the ink from your sister’s pen wasn’t vibing with your skin. You looked at the small roses and flowers that adorned your skin, the ink suddenly blackening, darkening in color. You could feel each line piercing through your skin the closer you got.
With a small smile you approached the boys, your heart beating out of your chest. “Hi!” You exclaimed as the boys greeted you. One by one, the members' faces came and went until one locked with yours. A shocked expression.
Your eyes met Jeongin’s before it could interfere with the contact of your palms, his long sleeve shirt peeking down just enough for you to see a small flower that mirrored the flower on your right hand.
Jeongin stared at the flowers on your skin as well. Was this it? Was he your soulmate?
“Hey! Stop holding back the line!” The voice took you by surprise, unlatching your hand from Jeongin’s and turning to see your sister being pulled by security as she tried to hold onto Bang Chan’s hand.
“I WON’T LET GOOOO” Your sister cried before you could pull her away, apologizing to the boys and leading her outside of the venue.
“Are you insane?!” You scolded her, “Go to the restroom and clean your face, this concert had you crying buckets”
Your sister nodded in response, the sound of a few sniffles heard before she could go to the restroom.
----
When hi-touch is over, Jeongin quickly rushes to the dressing room. He doesn’t hesitate to pass the staff and members, shutting the door behind him as he looks around. How could he get your attention? You were his soulmate, the one making all these drawings on his arms, on his body. He adored your art, especially the one on his inner thigh, a simply smiley face that made him laugh every time he saw it. But was it a two way route? Could he possibly draw something on his arm and have it appear on yours as well? It was worth the shot.
Taking a pen from Hyunjin’s bag, Jeongin quickly scribbed Stay, don’t go on his arm- hoping that you would receive his message.
----
In the car you find yourself watching outside as the city starts to build up with lights. The view is beautiful, breathtaking as you take out a pen and draw and your bare skin that wasn’t inked.. until you find out that it is.
The words Stay, don’t go mark behind your wrist, grabbing your attention as you get out of the car.
“Where are you going?” Your sister asks before you could leave.
“I’ll be back” You simply reply. Getting a phone call from her friend, your sister dismisses you as you find yourself running back to the venue from the words on your hand.
----
Maybe it was a waste of time. You’d been here for what felt like hours, looking for a sign or some sort of message to tell you that you weren’t crazy. To tell you that the boy from that band did have your drawings on his arm. To tell you that the words written on your hand were written by him.
Your fingers line the drawings on your skin, wondering how soulmates link to mirror such drawings. Just how lucky you were to have found yours.
“You’re my soulmate” You heard. Looking up in front of you was Jeongin, standing proud in a purple tee and sweats.
Getting up from the floor, you faced him, eyeing his drawings that looked just like yours. “I am..?” you whispered before he could pull you into a hug.
“Jeongin what-”
“Shh..” He whispered, holding you closer against him. “I always wondered who was behind these drawings, always something different everyday, I love them”
“You love them?” You replied, grabbing his hand with a light grasp. “How can you love them?”
“What do you mean? They’re amazing y/n, I feel almost honored to have your art on me…”
You smiled at his words. Keeping your talent of art from your disappointed parents, always being told that art was a waste of time from your sister, and now finally here you were- being told by your soulmate that he loved your art.
“Don’t tell me that’s the first time you’ve heard that,” Jeongin said before taking his hand in yours. “Can you show me what else you’ve done?”
----
You and Jeongin sat down on a blanket in the middle of your room as you showcased all your works to him, pulling out each sheet to reveal your works that he continuously praised. He was by far impressed, and even though you two had known each other for less than a day it felt like you had known him for your entire life.
“So.. the drawing of a dog that you drew on your leg a few years back was your dog?!” Jeongin asked as he eyed the pictures of your family and friends on the wall.
“Yeah!! And remember the women I drew on hand, that was Julia Roberts” You giggled, watching as he gasped in shock. “No wonder I recognized that face!”
When Jeongin paced around your room, he noticed the painting from earlier, covered with a green sheet. “What’s this?!”
“Oh don’t look at-” You said before he could pull the sheet over. It was your incomplete work from before the concert, the one you spilled paint all over when your sister forced you to go to the concert.
“Why not?” Jeongin said, crossing his arms and touching the wet paint.
“Because… it’s not finished and it’s really bad” Jeongin frowned, dipping his finger in the paint before swiping some on your face.
“Hey!!” You chuckled, getting some paint on your hands and rubbing it on his cheek. Before you two knew it, you were a laughing mess- throwing bits of paint and taking brushes to paint each other. Your room was a mess but you didn’t even care at this point, you hadn’t felt this happy this much in a long time and you would do anything to live in this moment forever.
Soon enough, Jeongin was drawing on your face with red paint, the two of you on the floor giggling from the adrenaline.
“Your art isn’t bad y/n, I’m going to make sure the rest of the world can see it”
“What?” You said, keeping eye contact with him as he closed you against the wooden floor. You could almost hear his heart beating against your chest, his breath fanning against your lips. You two were getting closer and closer by the second and you just wanted to hold him forever.
“Your art is beautiful y/n, just like you” He smiled before pressing a kiss on your lips.
You blushed at the sudden action, realizing your eyes had fluttered shut and your arms had wrapped around his neck.
As you leaned closer for another kiss, you heard the sound of your front door opening, quickly alarming your senses. “Oh my god, that’s my sister!”
“Your sister?” Jeongin asked, watching as you opened your room window.
“Jeongin you have to get out”
“What?! Through the window??”
“My sister is a huge fan of Stray Kids, remember how she was holding that one boy during hi-touch? If she sees you she’ll literally freak.”
“Alright, alright” Jeongin said, walking towards the window.
“We’ll meet again y/n” He said, placing a kiss on your lips before crawling out the window.
“Bye Jeongin” You pouted, closing the window before you sister could open the door.
“Oh my god, what is this mess?”
----
After dinner, you plop onto your bed, smiling at your artwork that you had unveiled in your room. Remembering how happy Jeongin was when he saw them, you wondered if you should put them out for the public to see. His reaction made you feel more confident, despite what your family had to say about it. You knew at heard that you carried a talent, and now you knew you had a soulmate as well.
Pulling the covers over your head, you grab a pen from your nightstand and draw Jeongin’s name with a heart around it on your hand.
The ink tracing on his hand took him by surprise, the members crowding his hotel room as he sat on his bed, getting ready to rest for the day. The night itself was overwhelming, but Jeongin was happy to have met the girl of his dreams and he’s glad he didn’t miss out on kissing you.
Putting his phone to the side, Jeongin noticed the small message on his hand, a small smile creeping on his face as he grabbed the hotel provided pen and wrote your name with a heart by it.
#jeongin fluff#jeongin imagines#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin imagines#yang jeongin fluff#yang jeongin x reader#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#kpop imagines#kpop fluff
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Blowing Bubbles || Orobas & Dave
Timing: Current
Parties: @eldonash & @seizethecarpe
Summary: When Dave gives Orobas Carrington’s sword, it doesn’t go quite to plan
Orobas needed a win this week. He’s been on the receiving side of a lot of bullshit and though Ulfric had made up with him, it hadn’t actually been his friends fault for his bad mood. Things were circling back around against him, and as all things in his long life, he would have to face them head on. David had worked very quickly, and Orobas didn’t have any details of how he managed to get down that far in the water without crashing his boat or risking the demons that might be lurking there. Regardless, he couldn’t wait to give this back to Carrington. Francesca's gallery was a familiar place for him, and one he knew was equipped for vampires so the daytime didn’t burn him up. He wanted inside, admiring something while he wanted for David to show up.
An art gallery? Hell of a place to bring a sword, but the customer’s always right and all that. Didn’t mean that Dave didn’t feel all kinds of out of place, in a flannel shirt and jeans so worn they were fraying at the ends. This… was not his scene. He had the sword all dried up and wrapped in cloth, so that for all anyone knew it was just a real long umbrella. Thinking on what he’d seen on the ocean floor, the town was a little weirder than he’d given it credit for. Now to find the guy. “Hey, you’re, uh, Mr. Ash, right? Got what you’re looking for.”
“Yes,” Orobas was a man always dressed impeccably, and with a posture to go with it that reeked of his monetary privilege. He gestured to his bench, the art gallery wasn’t busy, and though the other was definitely not dressed for such a nice place. Orobas didn’t think it would be a problem, if one of her employee’s said something, they would be asked to walk away. “How did it go then? I imagine such a place would be challenging for even an expert. Did you run into any problems?” Orobas asked.
Dave sat, turning his body so that he could watch Eldon’s lips as he spoke. “Took a goddamn while, but no problems. Just some weird shit down there. You’re lucky I found it, I was near giving up, it was like finding a needle in a haystack.” His eyes flicked to one of the paintings, but couldn’t quite see the vibrancy of it all, and quickly turned his gaze back to Eldon.
“I know of a few things that have gone over that edge,” Orobas chuckled, having watched one or two people drop valuables and in other lines of work, heavier objects. “This was one of few that wasn’t supposed to see such a murky death.” Orobas gestured for the sword, he assumed was what was wrapped and looking out of place just as much as David in the gallery. “Have you been here before? It’s not a bad place to come when you want some quiet.”
“Yeah, looked like a real dumping ground,” Dave replied roughly. Classic groundwalkers, really. Treating the ocean less like an abyss and a dumping ground, leaving the worst for everything down there to find. Poisoning the local marine life and making everything a damn sight harder for everyone else. “Not much of a peace and quiet guy myself, nor an art guy. Seems nice enough, just not my thing.” He handed the bundled sword to Orobas. “Anyhow, I believe this here is yours.”
“I understand,” Orobas took the bundle, and opened it. It was rare to see Orobas’ real smile, not one that was threatening and disjointed as he spoke to someone he wished to die or toy with. “He will be happy.” Orobas didn’t realize that he was going to such lengths for the other. Having been pushed over the edge when he almost lost him to a slayer a few weeks ago. Brutally killing, starving-- and letting himself fall into a welcomed bloodlust. Even burning himself in the sun looking for the other, and all without sitting with the emotions attached to them in attempt to learn or understand the why. As he made to close it up, the fabric jolted out of his hand and the sword with it skid across the floor like it was yanked on a piece of string. It clanged loudly in the quiet space. Orobas wide eyed and surprised.
“Glad to hear it,” Dave replied, pressing his hands together in his lap. Ain’t much else to discuss, was there? He’d get on his way, leave the man and this overly quiet gallery to themselves. Except, just then, the sword lept out of Mr. Ash’s hands, flying across the floor. Four pairs of eyes turned to the pair of them. “Guessin’ you didn’t do that on purpose, huh?” He commented, as the sword began sprouting bubbles from the tip of the blade. “Uh, it wasn’t doing that last night.”
Orobas’ entire self was on edge immediately. Maybe it was because of the shit he was dealing with involving Fae nonsense, but he looked around instead of at the sword at first. He knew in his gut, that something was playing around, and he would break them in half if he found it. “No? Was it doing something else,” the bubbles started heavily filling the art gallery, and Orobas could already hear Fran bitching at him about it. He pushed up, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket and stepped towards the sword. Hovering over it a moment before picking the item up. Bubbles poured out of it like a child's toy and the old creature’s stoic face was void of emotion and movement as he turned to look at David. “Did it touch something that made it like this?” the sword twitched again and pulled from his hand, clashing on the floor a little further away with a trail of rainbow lights. Orobas face palmed.
“Not since I pulled it outta the water. It’s been all wrapped up since then. This is the first time it’s seen the light of day since then. Nothing on the seabed that could cause this.” Of all the blasted things, people were coming closer. Dave groaned, rubbing his face. They clearly thought it was some sorta performance art. Peace and playfulness coming from war. Sure, whatever, it was unnatural. Now it just needed fixing. “You aware of anything unnatural in here?” He asked, looking around.
The people were a little nosy now, and Orobas didn’t blame them. The sight could be viewed entertaining if it wasn’t something suspicious. The pads of his fingers ran over the faint ridges on his cheek, and fell away into a closed fist. “No, this place is perfectly normal,” Orobas lied, but of all the weird that happened here, or the artwork that was painted in blood, or the parties that left no bodies-- violence and fear were all that lingered in the shadows, not this. Orobas pressed his lips together, and looked around with a predatory gaze against the softer vibe of his companion. “Maybe it needs to be covered up--” Orobas mused, perhaps Carrington had some sort of safety feature? No. All of him was aware that this made no sense, and when something didn’t, he usually knew what was playing around. He moved towards it again with the blanket which he handed to David. The few people watching it with some sorta awe stepped aside, bubbles now floated everywhere, popping on his chin, and dotting his nice jacket with small rounded curves. “I’ll wait for you to toss it over it, and I’ll try to grab and hold it better to take it to the back area and away from curious eyes,” he said.
Dave nodded curtly, taking the blanket in his hands and standing up. Didn’t exactly love the crowd watching him, it was much too much attention for his liking altogether. Easier just to focus on the sword slithering around like a caterpillar on the hard wood floor. He waited for the signal for Eldon, and in a quick, jerk like motion, smothered the sword in the blanket. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a tiny darting light. “You got it? I think I know what the problem is.”
“Hm,” Orobas had an idea too, and it seemed the older man was attuned to such stuff or believed it enough. Humans were such funny oddities. Grabbing the handle firmly, he lifted the item with David. How many slayers has this sword cut up? Orobas’ favored weapon was on him now, an ivory handled dagger that’s edge and with his strength, have beheaded a few. Such a precious thing, and someone wanted to toy with it? Anger flashed a little in his gaze, the faintest red, and followed David’s gaze. Was he quick enough to catch it? Maybe if they left, Fran could deal with it so he didn’t have too. “Such things like to play,” Orobas commented dryly, taking the item better into his hand. A few people were around, and he gazed at all of them with a faint compulsion. “Go away--” they all turned promptly, without complaint. “I’m inclined to let someone else deal with it. Are you so familiar with such things?”
Go away, he said softly, and the whole room did. Dave looked around, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn’t say nothing. Not his business, not his problem. If someone wanted to hypnotise the room, who was he to stop them? “Back room, you said?” Dave said gruffly. He sure as hell was familiar with such things, but he also wasn’t going to discuss it in an art gallery full of rich humans with ever such nosey ears.
A loud song started playing, and the sword began to sway slightly back and forth to the music. Orobas’, unfamiliar with such a song only had his grip tighten, not wanting to lose it and nodded at David. “Come along, I’ll see that you are paid.” He would see if one of Francesa's employees could box it up properly. He held the item downward, and by his side, an echoed image of old days when wars were only fought with such items. If the obnoxious music wasn’t making their walk to the back ridiculous. “Have you been in business long for item retrieval?” he inquired at David. Walking towards the back, he saw a familiar person there, offering a weary smile. Finally, the music cut off when the back door closed. “Could you get a box for this?” the other vampire nodded, and walked to get something. He set the item on a table, and pulled out a wad of cash from the depths of his inner jacket pocket, held with a beautiful clip and handed it towards the older man. “This and your tip should suffice, for your discretion as well.”
David’s eyes only widened as the sword began to wriggle in Orobas’s arms. He followed Orobas, looking around with narrowed eyes and wishing he could feel them like he might an eel in the water. Where the hell were they? Once they were out of sight, he answered Orobas’s earlier question. “Familiar with all sorts of things. Not a fan of that sorta magic.” He nodded, at Orobas’s question, looking at the weary man who was sent to get a box. Didn’t think a place like this would have a sword size box just lying around, but clearly this Mr. Ash was more familiar with this locale that David originally known. He clicked his jaw as Orobas took the cash from his pocket, and took it. “Thank you. Discretion won’t be a problem.” He flipped through the bills quickly, counting them off in his head, but right then out of the corner of his eye he spotted it, a tiny bright light wiggling its way under the door. Just the one, not the handful he’d seen earlier, but still a nuisance.
“Appreciative,” Orobas didn’t need people asking too many questions about this weapon. Something that could easily be tied to his friend. “I do find magic quite exciting. However, I agree with you-- this type does like to get on my nerves, and then things always go wrong.” For them. He left unsaid, but likely heard anyway with his tone. Orobas had put a sizable tip in there, and it seemed money could sway this person. Good. That made it easier, and Orobas could usually ask for other work later. He was distracted as the other vampire came over and presented some cardboard pieces that they started cutting to size and fold into a box shape. Not noticing the little light. “Well, we are good then I suppose. It’s as if we never met, hmm?” Orobas smiled lightly, the faded scars on his cheeks stretched.
Dave didn’t say anything as he watched the tiny pixie tuck itself into Mr. Eldon’s pocket, right where the dollar bills had been. He considered it briefly, but hell, it wasn’t his problem. Didn’t want to get himself on the wrong side of some fair folk. He still had some problems from a promise he’d made in 1982. “Believe so. Good doing business with you, sir. Hope your friend likes it.” Not a bad way to start business in this town. Even if he wasn’t sure his first client was altogether too human, and if this was an indication of what work this town had to offer, well, Dave was in for an interesting time.
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The first interviews is with Mark Anders. He is currently the owner of the Gaslight Tavern and it has undergone some changes in the last few months.
ICONIC ADELAIDE MUSIC VENUE RE-OPENS WITH NEW LOOK
Can you tell us a little history about the tavern?
The Gaslight Tavern is a local landmark in Brompton, an inner western Adelaide Suburb. The hotel has a rich history dating back to 1844 when it opened as a sly grog shanty. Formal liquor license was granted in 1850 when the name was the Brickmaker’s Arms Hotel. In 1965, it became The Gasworks Hotel before evolving into The Gasight Tavern. Notable owners over the years included Samuel Harris, who was Chairman of SA Brewing and Walkerville Brewing Company and, of course, Eliza Coombe – who was convicted for murdering three husbands and attempted murder of her fourth. Running a pub was stressful in those days! Current publican, Mark Anders, purchased the hotel in 2007.
How have you found covid has effected your business?
Up until Covid-19 hit, the pub had run continuously for all those years, but restrictions did see the venue close down for 3 months earlier this year. Mark took the opportunity to make some much needed repairs.
I hear you are doing renovations? What can we expect when they are all completed?
Customers who returned to the first live music event after restrictions were lifted on 4th July, saw a fresh new Gaslight Tavern – with new floor coverings, elegant curtains, fabulous new lighting racks and white walls adorned with new artwork. The bar was also refurbished giving the pub a facelift whilst retaining the same authentic Aussie country pub vibe that the Gassy is renowned for.
Who are some of the biggest music acts you have had on your stage?
Being situated close to the City and Adelaide’s Entertainment Centre, some famous names have walked through the doors – both to perform and also to enjoy a beverage or ten. Peter Frampton, the boys from Status Quo, Ross Hannaford (ex Daddy Cool) Jimmy Barnes and his brother Swannee have all been in the heritage walls of the Gassy along with a huge contingent of Australia’s best muso’s. The music fraternity have been joined by people from all levels of society and all walks of life – at the Gassy bar you might meet a Supreme Court Justice chatting with a tiler, or a surgeon talking about blues music with a Council worker. When you come into the Gaslight Tavern, it’s not about what you do or where you live, it’s about enjoying good music, good company and your beverage of choice.
Food is also a big part of the Gaslight Story and the menu was overhauled just before the Covid-19 restrictions. Yung runs the kitchen. She’s been living in Australia for 18 years, and her unique styles of Asian/Oz fusion is mouth wateringly good. The smells that come out of that kitchen make it impossible not to want to try everything on the extremely well priced menu. It’s authentic food that looks, smells and tastes delicious and is made and served with love.
The Gaslight Tavern is an institution in Adelaide, especially as a live music destination. The original and best Blues Lounge has been operating for 8 years every Tuesday night, on Thursday’s leading Adelaide muso’s hit the stage for the FIGJAM session, bands play Friday and Saturday nights and on Sunday afternoons it’s Al’s Sunday Session. Instruments and the backline are all there – so muso’s and jammers can just rock up to the open mic sessions, make music and share the joy.
The Gaslight is at 36 Chief Street, Brompton. It’s open 2pm til late Tue to Saturdays and 2pm til 8pm on Sundays. Closed Mondays. www.gaslightttavern.com.au or find them on
https://instagram.com/gaslight_tavern?igshid=1wxd7j8lv34iw
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GG Strive Thoughts: Part 3
Welcome to the last part of my Guilty Gear Strive thoughts!^_^ I'll be focusing on the art-style and character designs, so there will be lots of pictures in this post. I hope you enjoy reading!
Art-Style & Graphics
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Guilty Gear's visuals always had a detailed, Sci-Fi fantasy anime look with creativity of the 1990s and early 2000s. This mostly stayed the same until Xrd SIGN, which introduced 3D cel-shaded graphics in a new way. The art-style also changed a bit from previous games, although it has kept its creativity.
GG Xrd SIGN and the following games(Revelator and Revelator 2) look beautiful, but it took me a while to get used to the art-style because of those dreaded chins. The characters should've just used their chins to fight cause of how long and pointy they are; just go "SLLASSHHHH!" XD Certain features of characters were exaggerated like Sol's shoulders being a bit too wide for his body or how Baiken's hair is thicker and spikier. Some people say it's "too anime", but that isn't the right word for it. I would say "whimsical" is main trait from the art-style, which is fitting for how funny the interactions are in-game and lighter tone in story.
Guilty Gear Strive keeps the cel-shaded 3D graphics, but manages to expand it further. Instead of its presentation akin to an anime TV series, it's now akin to a high-budget anime movie with detail given to both the characters and the environments. It's less whimsical this time, giving the impression the story will be darker in tone. I'm really happy the art-style was changed to being closer to the older GG games like X2; no more ice-cream cone chins!XD The characters also got redesigned to match the essence of the new game. I'll be talking about eachone in order from least to most in terms of design changes. I'll also rate them in Guilty Gear style grade form.
POTEMKIN
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There seems to be mixed reactions when Potemkin got revealed for GG Strive. Some were happy he looked generally the same while others were a little disappointed and asked, "How come he didn't get a huge redesign like the other characters?!" The answer is he already did; this is how Potemkin originally looked like in the GG series.
This design relates to Potemkin's story in the beginning. The Zepp empire in the past was a very corrupted, technology advanced nation. It contained battle-slaves with strength enhancement steriods and bound them with a special limiter. Potemkin was one of these battle-slaves with his huge, red metal color being the limiter. If he ever took it off, it would explode. However, Zepp was changed when Gabriel became President and freed all the Zeppian slaves, including Potemkin. He now serves as Gabriel's bodyguard out of genuine loyalty, gratitude, and care for his mentor and the renewed Zepp.
Judging on his old design by itself, I think he looked average(based on what he's wearing). His features definitely fit the saying "don't judge a book by its cover" because Potemkin is actually a gentle giant who's very intelligent. But the way he looks(except when interacting with certain characters), it's like he wants to break someone's bones, lol.
In the concept artwork in Guilty Gear X Plus(Japanese exclusive game), it hinted of what Potemkin will eventually developed into look-wise and story-wise. Even the pose from this pic was used later in Xrd SIGN. I really wish the design of the boots was used instead those weird looking ones he's wearing now, XD.
Now to look at Potemkin's design in Xrd SIGN.
This is Potemkin's drastic redesign needed because of the changes in his life and his resolve being tested. I love this design so much because it accurately portrays Potemkin's personality. The first is his steel helmet with a spike at the top, accented with the Zepp symbol at the center of his forehead. His face is mostly shrouded in darkness except for the glowing lens. The yellow ponytail fur attached adds to the essence of a modern steel knight. Next is the black collar having spikes at the front; he also has on spiked shoulder plates to emphasis his strength. The power part is also in the round-shaped limiters attached to the upper parts of his uniform and glove compartment of his gauntlets. The design of his gauntlets is derived from the GGX Plus concept art, except the gloves completely cover his fingers and has a robotic aesthetic to it. I notice green is the most dominant color in Potemkin's design and there's a reason why besides it being Zepp's uniform.
Here is the Green Personality taken from Color Psychology
(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-green.html):
You are a practical, down-to-earth person with a love of nature. You are stable and well balanced or are striving for balance - in seeking this balance, you can at times become unsettled and anxious. Having a personality color green means you are kind, generous and compassionate - good to have around during a crisis as you remain calm and take control of the situation until it is resolved.
You are caring and nurturing to others - however you must be careful not to neglect your own needs while giving to others. You are intelligent and love to learn - you are quick to understand new concepts. You are a good citizen and like to be involved in community groups. You have high moral standards and doing the right thing is important to you.
There is more, but I only taken pieces that describe Potemkin's personality, showing why green is his main color. Now onto his look in GG Strive starting with his helmet.
On the forehead of the helmet, the Zepp symbol is no longer a design mark, but an carved symbol with the words "Armor-clad faith" underneath. Instead of just darkness on his face, it accentuates the robotic aesthetic with the gears and the lens having an orange tint. Next is a full body screenshot of Potemkin.
The spiked shoulder plates is less noticeable and his uniform is more formal. There's now a maroon-red collar with white trim and yellow buttons. The spikes on the black collar part of his outfit is gone, there's thick pockets on the lower part of his suit and has a brown belt instead of black. His boots is also brown instead of black and the plates around his feet is orange instead of red. There's additional limiters on his upper back that is revealed when doing certain attacks, showing his power has grown more. His muscle mass has also gotten super HUGE to the point I wouldn't be surprised if he reached Sentinel(X-Men) size, XD.
Design Rating: S++(Fantastic!)
SOL BADGUY
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Sol Badguy is the main protagonist, so there was never a worry or surprise of his GG Strive design. There's also the fact his design isn't really new; it's heavily derived from the artwork of Guilty Gear 2:Overture. But first is looking at Sol's most iconic design from the GG series.
I'll always love this design because I think it's stylish, cool, and timeless. He's handsome in the traditional tough-guy way and perfectly fits the anti-hero type. His metal red headband acts as a limiter for his Gear powers and has the words "Rock You" in the center of his forehead. Besides it symbolizing his love for Queen's "Sheer Heart Attack" music album and controlling his Gear powers, it also symbolizes how he keeps his inner thoughts to himself and close-mindedness. He wears a black undershirt layered with a sleeveless, chest-length red jacket with a buckle strap. This style is very unconventional, which is exactly Sol is; he doesn't follow typical conventions. His red and black gloves conveys his toughness while his belt with the "FREE" tells of his philosophy. This also hints complexity to his nature since the belt is from when he was in the Holy Order, an aspect of his past. This shows he's inwardly caring and values the people in life along with his experiences. Lastly, is his white pants accented with buckles and red shoes.
The GG2:Overture Short Stories goes into some detail of the events before the game like how he was entrusted to raise Sin(Ky & Dizzy's son), etc. The major difference with Sol's design from the short stories is he's wearing a sensible red jacket similar to his old one, but its design still has traits of being its own style. His black undershirt is slightly different with a small V-shape cut-out in the middle, longer sleeves, and slightly loose around his stomach instead of fitted. His gloves has more of a biker vibe to them and no aspect of red nor buckles within them. He still wears red shoes on his feet, though tweaked in its looks. While this did hinted of Sol's character development, it wasn't a large factor because alot of the huge events at the time and before were placed on him rather than him confronting it by himself. It's why for Xrd SIGN, he primary reverted to his iconic look, though his GG2:Overture Short Stories look did get tweaked and used within the game's Story Mode. Now for his GG Strive look.
His GG Strive design blends both his GG2:Overture Short Stories look and aspects of his iconic design, which I really like. The red jacket with black trim conveys his free-spirited persona, yet also comfortable and relaxed. There's also a little bit more white seen on the cuffs of his jacket, meaning his heart is more open. This relates to his character development of finally confronting his past, his feelings, and his relationships. But he's still Sol Badguy and there's much for him to find out and explore, especially since red and black is still his main colors. There is deep meaning to this too.
Red Personality(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-red.html):
You are action oriented and physically active - sex is a necessity to you - you have strong survival instincts. Lovers of red are the explorers and pioneers of the world, the entrepreneurs and builders who like to be first in discovering new physical realms. You are always in a hurry, wanting to do everything right now. Patience is not one of your strong points. Red people can be aggressive and easy to anger, often exhibiting a violent temper - this is negative passion and energy. You flare up instantaneously but calm down quite quickly once you get it out of your system and then forget it ever happened. You have a strong need for power and control which is connected to your basic survival instincts.
Black Personality(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-black.html):
You are independent, strong-willed and determined and like to be in control of yourself and situations. You may appear intimidating to even your closest colleagues and friends, with an authoritarian, demanding and dictatorial attitude. You hold things inside and are not good at sharing yourself with others, possibly out of fear. You may be retreating behind black during a difficult time in your life such as a serious illness or a period of grief - black protects, allowing for a deep inner healing without interference from others.
I'll add traits of the color White since there's a noticeable amount on Sol.(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/color-white.html):
Positive traits of White: Simplicity, self-efficient, growth/new beginnings, open, equality, rescuer, and sense of completion.
These traits describe Sol. Overall, I like the design and feel it suits him well.
Design Rating: S+++(Perfect!)
MAY
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So far, May is the only female character revealed for the initial roster of GG Strive. There's mixed reactions with May's redesign for the new game. Some are happy she finally looks like she's in her early to mid teens(like 14 or 16) instead like a little girl. But others aren't happy with the changes to her outfit, saying it's bland. Let's look at May's iconic design.
In my opinion, May is the coolest looking child character. Her open-sides style coat with side slits layered with a skin-tight bodysuit blends both cute and stylish. Adding to it is the tricon pirate hat, silver plating on her wrists and neckline, and orange short boots with black trim. Lastly, a black belt is around her waist while buckles accents her orange coat. This shows she's spunky, cheerful, and deceptively strong. In the story, her origins was unknown at the time, which perfectly fits due to there's black as part of color scheme(one of the meaning for black is mystery). Story-wise, May's development gradually grows from finding Johnny and later recruiting Dizzy as a member of the crew. Her curiosity of her heritage surfaces, causing some changes in her design.
In Xrd SIGN, Her skin-tight bodysuit is gone and replaced with just a black, fitted tank underneath her orange overalls. Her pants is loose-fitting along with having a big buckle around her waist and different boots still in orange with black trim. She doesn't have the silver plating collar, but other aspects of her iconic look like her pirate hat is kept. May finally finds out she's Japanese and dealing a mysterious condition that (currently) can't be cured. This is a huge story development for May that leads to be expanded further and another redesign. First is looking up the facial shot of May for Guilty Gear Strive.
May's facial features is the first noticeable difference. The art-style is a strong factor in this, but May looks physically older. She still has big, cute brown eyes, though not as large as in Xrd SIGN. This makes her face appear a little longer face to convey a hint of maturity. Yet, she still hasn't escaped being just cute in an innocent way. Another difference is her hair is slightly shorten to halfway to her back instead to her waist. It's also loose instead of a thick ponytail within her pirate hat, which I think it's a nice little change. Her hat is shaped more round instead of oversized tricon while still retaining the pirate skull at the front. The anchor design on the sides makes it both simple, yet stylish. Now to see the full body of May's new look!
.....Lol, May is wearing a dumb orange hoodie, XD. What's worse is the hoodie has no special designs pertaining to May's personality or style; it's overly casual. There's also no shape, making her look like a fat fish. The skin-tight black short-shorts doesn't help with how oversized the hoodie is, which if it weren't for certain angles, it gives the illusion she isn't wearing anything on her lower body. It looks like lounge wear meant to be worn around the house instead of clothing a person would wear going on an adventure. Speaking of adventure, she has a backpack.
The backpack itself is cute because it's Chimaki(mascot of GG) and do see the the letter J with a heart; meaning love for Johnny. But other than this, this backpack also doesn't really relate to May. Besides being the mascot for the series, Chimaki is specific to Sin because it's favorite toy. None of May's official art ever showed her having a Chimaki toy or accessory. The casual look gives me the impression she quit the Jellyfish Pirates, but her winning animation of her saying "Jellyfish victory!" and Leap(the elderly lady who cooks) being there disproves this theory. Besides the hat, the only things kept from her iconic look is her gloves and boots. There's a heart on one of her thighs; a fitting aspect for a pirate.
Now to look at the Orange personality since it's May's main color(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-orange.html):
With orange as your favorite color, you are warm, optimistic, extroverted and often flamboyant. You are friendly, good-natured and a generally agreeable person. You are assertive and determined rather than aggressive - having a personality color orange means you are more light-hearted and less intense than those who love red. You thrive on human social contact and social gatherings, bringing all types together.
You live your life based on your 'gut reactions'. You are an adventurer - you love the outdoor life, camping, climbing mountains and indulging in adventurous sports such as sky diving and hang gliding. You are the daredevil, always looking towards your next challenge, your next great adventure.
This definitely fits May's nature. My impression of her simpler look probably hints of May is unsure of herself and trying to figure something out. Her expression in her new character portrait has this too; it's the first one of her not smiling. But I still think this new look for May is bad(except for the hat, the boots, and the gloves). Her design should've been something like this picture link below.
https://imgur.com/Ue1XdhT
The top would need to cover her stomach, but this design perfectly fits with May's nature and role as a Jellyfish Pirate. It also conveys she's adventurous and can easily implemented the backpack as part of the design. But it wasn't used... I'm nicknaming her May of the Jelly-Fat, lol. Worst design so far(and hopefully the only one).
Design Rating:D(for Derailed)
KY KISKE
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Ky's radical redesign for GG Strive was such a huge shock to everyone. At first, people thought it was Sin(Ky's son) until examining him closely. It's funny how many people are saying "Ky's handsome now" and saying he has an athletic body when in reality, he always did, XD. It isn't the first time Ky got big changes to his look based on the events in his life, but I'm going to focus on Ky's iconic design.
Ky is the opposite of Sol; the traditional knight-in-shining-armor type hero. This is another design I'll call timeless and my personal favorite look for Ky. He's very handsome in a princely way, which is fitting since Ky is a French noble. He wears a white shoulder cape containing a high collar with blue trim. It's attached to the blue knight-tunic with black trim in the front, accented with a white, trench-coat like detail. There's twin belts attached to his blue and black gloves while one is on his matching boots. Layered underneath his uniform is his black and white, sleeveless turtle neck and fitted detached sleeves. The belt around his waist with "HOPE" conveys Ky's philosophy. This attire is the Holy Order uniform, which conveys how strongly Ky holds onto the teachings and experiences he had during those times. His story at the time was about fulfilling his duty and doing what he knows and believes is right. Blue and white has always been Ky's main colors, which tells alot about his personality.
Meaning of White Personality(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-white.html):
Having a personality color white means you are neat and immaculate in your appearance, in the presentation of your home and in your car, almost to the point of being fanatical. You are far-sighted, with a positive and optimistic nature. You are well-balanced, sensible, discreet and wise. You think carefully before acting - you are definitely not prone to impulsive behavior. You tend to have a great deal of self control. You may appear to be shy, but you do have strong beliefs about most things and love the opportunity to air those beliefs. The challenge for you is to be open-minded and flexible and to communicate your needs and desires.
Meaning of Blue Personality(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-blue.html):
You are conservative, reliable and trustworthy - you are quite trusting of others although you are very wary in the beginning until you are sure of the other person. At the same time, you also have a deep need to be trusted. You are not impulsive or spontaneous - you always think before you speak and act and do everything at your own pace in your own time. You take time to process and share your feelings. You are genuine and sincere, and you take your responsibilities seriously. Having a personality color blue means you have a deep need for peace and harmony in your everyday life - you don't like having your feathers ruffled. You would benefit from daily meditation and quiet time for reflection, introspection and self-discovery.
You appear to be confident and self-controlled, but may be hiding your vulnerable side. Being a personality color blue means you are generally fairly even-tempered, unless your emotions take over - then you can become either moody and over-emotional, or cool and indifferent. You are sensitive to the needs of others and caring with your close circle of friends. While you are friendly and sociable, you prefer the company of your own close group of friends.
You are a rescuer and love to be needed but one of your lessons is to learn to love yourself first - you live from your heart and are always busy putting the needs of others first. You can be rigid - you like to stick to what is familiar to you and it is hard to sway you from your path - you stubbornly do things your way even if there is a better way. You need to have direction & order in your living and work spaces - untidiness and unpredictability overwhelm you.
You are approachable and friendly, always making people feel welcome in your life. You have a thirst for knowledge in order to gain wisdom and appear knowledgeable in whatever area interests you. You are spiritual or religious with a high degree of devotion to family, God, or other causes that are important to you. If reacting negatively, you are prone to self-pity.
These perfectly fit Ky's personality and has mostly stayed with him throughout his character development. Now to look at his GG Strive redesign beginning with the head.
One of the obvious difference is Ky's hair is short, reminiscent of his iconic look. But it raises the question of how since according to the story, it's stated his hair grows rapidly no matter how many times he tries to cut it(due to heavily implying he's part Gear). I'm guessing either Ky followed Sin's method of cutting his hair every 3 days or he found a special hair product to prevent rapid growth, XD. I notice the style of his hair is a bit different; the strands of his bangs is shorter and thicker. It creates a boyish look instead of a young man, which doesn't fit Ky. It doesn't seem noticeable during gameplay, but cutscene-like sequences it's the opposite. His hair should've been exactly like GGX2.
His facial structure and eyes in GG Strive is exactly like in GGX2 except for one part; his chin. While Ky's chin was never wide like most male characters, it usually isn't this narrow either. The narrower chin makes him look younger and with how the hair is styled, it gives the impression it's Ky from an earlier timeline. If his chin was similar to how it was in GG X2, it will improve his look alot and show he's mature and sophisticated. Next is examining the full body picture of his new look.
This is a huge departure in many ways. The only aspect inspired from his iconic design is the shoulder cape, but it lacks the blue trim around the helms and collar. Instead, there's black trim at the helms and hints of blue at the back with the words "Illyrium". His semi-fingerless gloves with fingernail plating is something he doesn't usually wear, but the back of his hands does have plating saying "Nothing can be done without hope". It shows he still generally has the same philosophy and key traits he's known for. The fact his "HOPE" belt is replaced with 2 standard belts(one black and the other brown) implies his mindset he carried from the Holy Order is gone and became open-minded. His open, V-neckline shirt with a single sleeve is inspired from this.
I do find it interesting how this reveals(pun intended) a different side of him, XD. It adds a sense of sensuality that leading men from romantic novels have and obviously it being sexy. Next is his fitted pants accented with blue crosses at the front then his boots with blue trim at the bottom. The most significant change is how Ky's dominant color is now black, which has important meaning to his character development.
Positive traits of Black: Include protection and comfort, strong, contained, formal, sophisticated, seductive, mysterious, endings & beginnings.
Negative traits of Black: Depressing and pessimistic, secretive and withholding, conservative and serious, power & control, sadness and negativity.
All of these fit Ky and since he's wearing alot of black instead of blue and white, this implies he has or going to have an internal struggle. I haved mixed feelings about his new design.
I love the concept of it and think it's nice to see Ky wear something different as his main attire. By itself the outfit is good and easy to adjust to, it's just not as unique as his original design. The design of blue crosses from his GG Accent Core Plus ending should've been implemented in the new design and add some gold trim to balance out all the black. I think his gloves should be changed to be more stylish along with the silver plating. If it had these tweaks, Ky's new design would be perfect.
Design Rating: A(Great!)
CHIPP ZANUFF
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The reveal of Chipp's redesign has mostly been positive, but all of us immediately said "He is so BUFF!" People say he looks handsome now and have joked he worked out at the same gym as Chris Redfield, XD. Let's look at Chipp's previous design!
Chipp's iconic look definitely displays the street-punk style and rowdy persona. This perfectly fits with his dark past of being a former biochemical drug dealer and addict. He has wild spiky hair, small red earrings, and a leather choker around his neck. The fishnet undershirt is both punk-style and those who practice ninjitsu wears. He has fingerless gloves with silver, square-shaped plating. This aspect is also on his belt and short-length boots. There's two leather buckles strapped around the right leg of his white pants and has on a loose-fitting ninja vest with silver buttons. This highlights his newly adopted values he got from his mentor and father-like figure Master Tsuyoshi. Chipp even has on black eyeliner around his eyes to emphasizes the punk look. Since he primarily wears black and white with hints of red, this tells about his personality. Black and white together obviously means viewing things in a straightforward way instead of complex like gray. Red conveys of his hot-headed masculinity, passion, and impatient nature. Combined with the other colors, it shows Chipp's other side of having pure intentions, even though it doesn't always come across right.
In Xrd SIGN, only minor tweaks were made such as adding a red sash attached to his belt, extra detail on his pants and boots, and slightly thicker eyeliner. Ever since becoming president of a (currently) unofficial nation dubbed "Eastern Chipp Kingdom", Chipp's personality seemed to have mellowed some, though still has his impulsive tendencies. Chipp has been through alot of character development since the beginning. Now for his redesign for GG Strive starting with his face.
One of the things I notice about Chipp's face is while it's still narrow, it's a little fuller and smoother with slightly higher cheek bones. His chin is also about an inch or 2 wider than how it was in the Xrd series. His eyes still has the same defined shape, but the eyeliner isn't as thick. These tweaks to his facial features makes him look handsome and approachable instead of angry and rough. But his fiesty side is still there because besides his eye shape, his upper teeth now has some small fangs. Now to see a full body picture...
Chipp's hair also got tweaked; tt's still spiky, but more stylish instead of wild. Instead of strands of hair rest on his forehead, he has noticeable asymmetrical bangs. Besides his red earrings, Chipp's 2 main colors(black and white) is kept along with a little more red from the strings attached to his ninja gauntlets and strapped sandals. He still has the red sash attached to his belt, though this time he has a thick, rope belt(I think it's called "Obi"). His white pants is very loose-fitting and no longer has twin buckle straps, but does have a little more detail with the side silver buttons. On his upper body, Chipp has on a leather vest with a form-fitting, sleeveless turtleneck. The height of the collar covers his mouth and contains buckle straps. This look is inspired from his design in "The Butterfly and Her Gale".
It has aspects of the high collar, gauntlets, and boots, even though the boots was tweaked to be sandals. This redesign shows Chipp fully embraces Japanese culture and the ways of ninjitsu. I think it may also hint of him being or becoming a master himself and training others, especially with how he's gotten so muscular. The way they mixed old and new with Chipp's redesign is amazing and love the tweaks to his face and hair. I do think his pants maybe a bit too wide along with the rope-belt, but other than that his look is perfect.
Design Rating: S++(Awesome!)
AXL LOW
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"Axl got PANTS!" is the main reaction people had when he got revealed and the majority agree it's a much needed upgrade. This is the 3rd time Axl has gotten major design changes since GG:The Missing Link. His look from GGX and onwards greatly emphasizes he's heavily inspired from real-life singer Axl Rose. For Axl, I'm going look at his redesign for Xrd SIGN.
In comparison to the others, Axl's design was never high-fantasy or elaborate, but it makes sense he's from the 20th century. His look in Xrd mixes aspects from the 1st GG and GGX, which conveys his easy-going nature and trying to adapt to the future he's in while maintaining his values of the past. He still has his signature UK cap, brown fingerless gloves, and matching shoes. His white shirt has a unique black zipper tie that adds a hint of contemporary along with his blue jacket. Attached to his black belt on the hips is cloths of the UK flag and has on blue shorts. Red and blue has mostly been his main colors(with some white) that tells of his peaceful, friendly, and passionate nature. In the story, Axl is finally confronted about why he time-skips and must make a hard decision that forever change his life. The choice he made leads him to major character development along with what role he will play in the story, so he needed another redesign to reflect this.
This design shows Axl has embraced the current timeline while maintaining his love for his country. His fingerless gloves is a lighter brown along with his ankle-length boots. He wears a red plaid jacket with white sleeves and black with orange trim at the helms. Underneath is his a sleeveless, form-fitting tank with 3 zippers at the front and a brown buckle at the mid-section. On his lower body is a belt with a UK buckle and fitted, detailed black pants with zippers on the side. This look is inspired by the concept art.
I notice his new design as a mixture of colors compared to before, though it seems black is the most dominant color. One of the meanings for black is power and control, which fits with how Axl now has control over his Time powers. He also has an aura of confidence compared to his uncertainty in the past games. This is the perfect design for Axl because he looks amazing and conveys his personality well.
Design Rating: S+++(Perfect!)
Thank you for reading this! I'll make a series of this as more characters of the game are revealed in the future!^_^
#GG2020#Guilty Gear 2020#GGS#Guilty Gear Strive#GG Strive#arc system works#daisuke ishiwatari#Sol Badguy#Ky Kiske#May#Chipp Zanuff#Potemkin#Axl Low#character redesign#my thoughts#analysis
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[update: this drabble used to be two posts but has since been edited to be one coherent piece!]
content warning: referenced past drugging, implied/discussed drug abuse, paranoid thoughts.
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Cass is sitting in J’s bedroom, trying to sleep despite the daylight creeping in through the blinds. He’d been confused at first when Josiah had shepherded him in and peeled the sheets back from the bed. When he hadn’t moved to lie down Josiah had said that he needed to put the house back together and Cass needed sleep and that neither would happen if Cass was lying on the couch. Cass felt a pang of guilt through his fog and hadn’t argued. He’d done enough arguing today.
He’s not sure if he sleeps but he’s certainly awake when there’s a gentle knock on the door, followed by a man with long blonde hair and a neatly trimmed beard letting himself him. Whatever Cass was expecting when Josiah said his friend was a doctor, this is not it.
“Hey there,” he says with an easy smile “Wasn’t sure you’d be awake”
Cass tenses, sitting up against the headboard and trying to look less vulnerable, less weak. He hates doctors. Hates them even more when they’re so casual. Trying to act like your friend. They weren’t friends.
“I take it you’re Mal,” he grunts.
“I take it your Cassius”
“Cass”
“Cass. Right,” Mal corrects. He’s got a relaxed grip on eye contact, holding Cass’ gaze a few seconds longer than should’ve been comfortable. There’s something vaguely familiar about the way this man hold his gaze and it settles in Cass’ gut with a rocking sort of unease. Despite himself, Cass looks away.
Mal sets his bag down on the desk with a thud. It’s one of those old leather ones that border on the line between outdated and cool depending on who’s carrying it. Cass rolls his eyes. Wanker.
“How’re you feeling, Cass?”
“What, what do you think?” Cass spits. The other man doesn’t miss a beat.
“I literally do not know, mate. I met you about thirty seconds ago.”
Mal sits down on the chair by the desk, a careful distance from Cass, and begins rolling up the sleeves of his henley, revealing a litany of old-school tattoos that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Sailor Jerry’s bottle.
“What?” Mal asks, smiling at Cass’ obvious stare. “Did Josiah fail to mention my rugged good looks?”
J had, in fact, failed to mention his doctor-friend’s rugged good looks. He’d failed to mention anything at all about Mal, actually. Cass had half expected a half-dead, half-deaf 67 year old racist who’d scribble a prescription for Valium without looking at him and head off again. Instead he was staring at a 30-something Adonis who looked like he oughta be on the cover of an alternative home-goods magazine selling kombucha.
“You just don’t, don’t really look like a, like a doctor.”
Mal nods like he’s used to that assesment.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m technically a nurse.”
Cass coughs a laugh, “It, it, it does, actually.”
“Thought it might,” he says, smile dancing back on his face “Now. Josiah said you took something?”
Any amount of warming Cass had been feeling toward Mal turned ice cold in an instant.
“I didn’t take shit.”
Mal shrugs, “Alright, well did someone else give you something?”
Cass’ head jerks up and he squints at Mal, trying to figure out the trick.
“You believe, believe me?“
"Well are you lying?”
“No.”
“Then I believe you,” Mal says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He puts on a pair of blue-rimmed glasses, smiles like this is the only thing he’d prefer to do right now.
Cass stares at him. Right. Definitely not what he was expecting.
“So. If you didn’t take anything, did someone else give you something? Josiah, maybe?”
Cass’ heart falters and his eyes flit to the door. This is a trick. A trap. They’re tricking him into saying something against J so he can be thrown out or hurt or- he takes a deep breath and stops that particular train of thought. It was stupid. It was Josi- J - for God’s sake. And Cass’d named him, anyway, made him tell the truth. He knew J hadn’t given him anything.
He looks back at Mal, suspicious all over again. Why would he plant a thought like that?
“Wouldn’t he… wouldn’t he have told, told you if he gave me something?”
“Well, see, Josiah knows I’m not a huge fan of roofies, so I doubt it,” Mal says, rolling the desk chair closer. “Alright if I take your blood pressure?”
Cass nods blankly and shoves the sleeve of his shirt up to his shoulder, offers his arm.
“Do you, you, you think he gave me something?” he asks.
“Seems a little out of character but you’re the one that knows what’s going on here, so I figured I’d ask,” Mal straps the blood pressure cuff around Cass’ upper arm “This might be a little uncomfortable, but it’ll just be a minute.”
They’re silent for a moment as Mal pumps air into the tourniquet. He’s right, it is uncomfortable. Maybe not in the way that Mal thinks. The cuff tightens slowly with each pump, cutting the blood circulation in a way that feels far too much like a rough hand gripping too tight. What did you think was gonna happen, Ace?
Cass takes a deep breath, tries to remind himself where he is, who he’s with. “Is Mal short for, short for something?“
“Unfortunately, yes,” says Mal and smiles as he makes quick eye contact. “Malory.”
Hipster with a medical degree. ‘Course his name is Malory.
The cuff constricts a little more and so does Cass’ chest. What did you think was gonna happen, Ace? Deep breath.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs.
“It is when you’re middle name is Valerie.”
Cass snorts a laugh. He doesn’t care if it’s true or not. The distraction is welcome.
The fact Mal’s not actually touching him helps. The tattoos even more so.
Classic American sailor tattoos, thick dark outlines coloured with red and yellow, a little blue. Sparrows, an anchor, a swashbuckling lady, a dagger, a heart. Then the less conventional ones. An astronaut, a small cat, an umbrella, a tea cup. Cass’ eyes catch on a trio of roses on Mal’s left arm, warped slightly. Or rather, the skin is. Bubbled scar tissue sits uneven under the ink, spreading neatly along his inner arm, starting at the wrist, stopping before the crease of the elbow. You’d barely notice it if you weren’t this close. Cass leans a little closer.
“You admiring the artwork or the scar?” Mal asks in an even tone, his attention on the blood pressure gage. Cass pulls back away, quickly, cheeks burning hot with the shame of being caught staring.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
“It’s alright, I don’t mind. It’s a good scar,” he says removing the cuff. Cass flexes his fingers as blood rushes back into them in a hot flush. Mal rolls his chair back to dig something else out of the bag. “It’s from when they cut me open to hardwire in this here biometric, fully automated, life-like mechanical hand”
Mal flexes his fingers, as if to show off the dexterity of each digit. Cass stares. Mal’s face splits in a stupid grin.
“I’m kidding,” he assures quickly “Hand’s real. It’s the foot that’s fake” And he knocks on his shin, the full thud of hollow plastic helping pitch the punchline.
Cass frowns, looks back down at the bed sheets. He feels like an idiot for nearly falling for it. But he’s tired and he doesn’t feel right and wasn’t this asshole meant to be helping? Not just fucking around? He feels even more like an idiot because everything Mal does makes him feel small and young and stupid. Like some kid, doe-eyed and staring, about to be tricked by Dad jokes and an easy smile.
“That’s a stupid, a stupid joke,” Cass mumbles. Like a fucking kid. God. There’s something about Mal that Cass can’t place, can’t pick and it keeps sending him off-kilter. Something familiar-but-not that he doesn’t want to think about.
“Yeah I know. Bad habit,” Mal is picking something else out of the bag now. “He holds up a stethoscope. “Give your chest a listen?”
“Do I have to take, take my shirt off?”
“Yeah,” Mal says with a deep sigh, apology etched into his face. “Unfortunately, while medical science has advanced far enough for me to hear through several inches of muscle, blood, and bone, we have not yet cracked the ability to also hear through a thin stretch of cotton, so…”
He gestures with his hand. There’s a beat. Cass remains thoroughly unimpressed. Mal sighs again, with another smile.
"Yeah I know, stupid joke. Leave your shirt on. I’ll get you to lean forward though, if you can”
Cass obliges silently. He fucking hates this guy, he decides. He hates the jokes and the hair and the tattoos and the one fucking foot. The painfully ‘not your average doctor’ vibe of him.
Complete wanker.
“I know, know what you’re doing,” he spits after a few moments of quiet. The other man hums an acknowledgement, moving the stethoscope to his back “With the, the, the jokes and the stories. Tryna be friend- be friendly. Just tryna get me, get me more comfortable so I’ll tell, I’ll tell you shit”
Mal sits back, taking the stethoscope from out of his ears. He’s got an impassive sort of look on his face that’s kind of annoying. “Is it working?”
“No. You’re not my, not my friend.”
“I’m not trying to be, mate, I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on,” Mal holds his gaze as he says it. Piercing and ice blue, Cass is overcome with a feeling that he’s being looked into, gently inspected. That he doesn’t need to tell Mal anything. He already knows.
There’s a fear that grips Cass for a moment. J wouldn’t send a reader in without telling him, right? His eyes flit to the warped skin on Mal’s wrist. Hiding a mark?
Then the moments gone. Snapped in two like glass as Mal breaks his gaze to throw the stethoscope back in the bag.
“The stammer normal for you?” he asks, suddenly.
Cass blinks. “The what?”
“The stammer. You keep repeating, keep repeating yourself every few, every few words, like this, like this,” Mal demonstrates. The not-a-mechanical hand turns in the rhythm of his voice, like a conductor keeping time for an orchestra “That how you usually talk or is it new?”
Cass frowns, tries to think about how he’s been talking.
“Uhh… new, it’s new I guess,” he says. Mal hums low, produces a small pen light.
“Follow this with your eyes,” he says “What about the tremor? That new too?”
The flip between conversation and consultation is dizzying, but Cass does his best to oblige. There��s a faint feeling of nervous dread creeping over him. Something’s wrong.
“Um, it… It happens when I’m, when I’m, when I’m tired. Or when I’m stressed, stressed I guess. Been pretty norm, pretty normal for a while,” he says. He’s overly aware of the tripping of his tongue, now, embarrassment and frustration eating at him with every word he snags on.
“Push through’d do it too, I guess?” Mal asks, pocketing the light again.
Cass stares at him, gaping a little.
“You know, push through?” Mal tries again “When you’re spent but you keep using your-”
“I know what, know what push through means,” Cass snaps.
The other man puts his hands up in a hasty surrender. “I didn’t mean anything by it, mate.”
“I’m not your mate.”
Cass knows exactly what push through means. If he spent too much time in someone’s head, if he named too many people one after the other, he’d start to feel the tug of it. Tingling in the hands and feet, faint ache in the chest or the head. But a blood rush, your heart pulsing with something other than blood. Like you could do anything.
So then you’d push through, keep going. Full splitting headache, churning stomach, dizziness, aching joints. But your brain felt electric, so much bigger and faster and you could see so much more than anyone else. So many connections and vibrations.
So you push through, go a bit further, just a little more. Breathlessness, slamming heart, bones like glass, thoughts like fog. And it’s burning now, a little, but the spark is still just in reach. So you push through.
Just a little further, knowing you’ll get it back if you just keep reaching. Memory loss, delirium, pain like your body was going to kill you. Or floating, unhooked, free.
Cass knew what fucking push through was. Intimately. The question was how the fuck did Mal?
"Josiah didn’t give me anything,” Cass says suddenly. It feels like a confession. Mal doesn’t say anything. “There was... The... The, the, the people I was, people I was staying with. I think they, they… I think…”
“Do you know what it was they gave you?” Mal asks gently. He does everything so fucking gently. Cass squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head.
“I don’t even, even know for sure that they, they, they did,” he admits. His voice isn’t shaking. It’s not. “I’d just… wake up and I would feel, would feel wrong. Like I’d gone on a bend, a bender or something”
“Like a hangover?”
“More like withdrawal. Then push through on top.”
“Is that why you took the oxy? It felt like withdrawal?”
“It wasn’t an oxy, just a-” Cass stops abruptly, biting down on his tongue. Idiot. “I thought you said you believed me.”
“I thought you said you didn’t take anything.”
Mal’s eyes glint. This isn’t right. What did you think was gonna happen, Ace?
Cass can feel his breath ducking shallow in his chest and he hastens to control it, shove it down, stave off the black spots that are suddenly flickering in his vision.
This isn’t right. He leans forward where he sits, gripping the edge of the sheet. He barely has anything in him but he needs to get this guy away because something isn’t right, none of this is right.
He barely has enough in him but he has enough: “Mᴀʟᴏʀʏ, ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ”
But Mal doesn’t flinch, doesn’t change his face, doesn’t move to go. He just tilts his head slowly, looks Cass in the eye. His voice is so gentle when he speaks.
“That one’s not gonna work on me, mate.”
Cass feels his heart miss a beat, like skipping a step on the stairs, foot sliding through free fall. He thinks about bolting, but Mal is blocking the door. He thinks about trying to name him again but he has nothing left, he was nothing left and it doesn’t matter because it didn’t fucking work.
“I knew, knew it. I fuck, fucking knew it,” he spits. He tries to lean forward, but the dizziness hits him too fast and he sits back “You’re a reader, aren’t, aren’t, aren’t you?”
Mal laughs softly like the accusation is surprising.
“No, not quite,” he says, quietly.
“Well what are, what are you, then?”
“I’m honestly just a nurse, mate,” Mal leans back in his chair, pushing that long mane back with one hand “And, unfortunately for you, Josiah’s friend.”
He almost looks sad. Cass isn’t fucking falling for it.
“I don’t believe you.”
Mal shrugs, taking his glasses off, “You don’t have to.”
There’s a long moment between them, quiet and still. It’s so silent that Cass can feel the air around them pulsing. Maybe that’s why the yell from the other room is so loud. Something like a crash. More yelling. An argument, a fight. Mal, who has been seemingly unphased the entire time Cass has been talking to him, suddenly seems very, very phased.
Someone is here. Someone has J.
Cass is moving before he has time to register the pain that swoops in at the rush in his head.
“Who’s, who’s here? What’s happening?”
Mal tries to stand in front of him but Cass is already pushing passed. He can barely feel the juttering of his legs. Mal grabs for his arm-
“Everything’s fine, it’s jus-”
Cass doesn’t notice way his heart is suddenly not beating but fluttering, surging, buzzing. He shoves Mal backwards, reaching for the door.
“Everything’s not fine, fuckhead. Who, who did you bring here? What, what what have you done to Josiah?”
Cass doesn’t notice that his lungs are straining to grab oxygen, straining to do anything other than squeeze mercilessly.
“Nothing, mate. Cass, you need to-”
Cass doesn’t notice the blood rush in his ears, drowning out Mal’s words.
He opens the bedroom door, prepared to see anything; prepared to see a bloodbath, prepared to see a gun to Josiah’s head, to see an armed fucking militia. Prepared to see them. The them he’s running from, the them he should know better than to have run towards, the them who could find him and drag him back, and drag Josiah along too if they wanted to.
But that’s not what he sees.
He sees Josiah, standing with his back to the hallway, completely fine. Angry, sure, but when wasn’t Josiah angry? His voice is still echoing sharp across the room but his body language is open and loose. He almost looks relaxed. Comfortable in a way Cass hasn’t seen him since coming back. He’s fine.
And then he sees her. Small and leather-clad and familiar and furious.
Oh.
Cass feels the fear fall off him like a cloak, which maybe was stupid considering who he’s looking at. He wishes he hadn’t opened the damn door.
Lou.
“I assume you’ve met my wife?” Mal says from behind him.
Right. Fuck.
And then.
And then Cass realises someone’s squeezed all the breath from his chest, and that his legs are shaking so hard they shouldn’t be holding him up and that his heart has somehow turned into a wasp’s nest, and that his brain is a brick of dynamite about to explode.
Cass looks at the woman in front of him, looks at Josiah, looks at Mal.
Lou. Here. Right.
Fuck.
And then he faints.
#drabble#whump#caretaker#panic#paranoia#drugging mention#magical exhaustion#withdrawal#??#lol this is so long i am not sorry#the present#me: 'let me cut this in two bc its getting a little long'#also me: 'before publishing part 2 i better add another thousand words'#cassius#mal#also like#for what was meant to just be me writing different character interactions to fuel my own personal whumpish needs this has gotten very plott#but whats a guy gonna do huh#lou#barely
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Led Zeppelin Cover Artwork Part 5
Houses of the Holy
Sorry, took me a while. I was very busy the last two weeks. So next on our list is the album Houses of the Holy, which was released on 28 March 1973.
This was the first album cover designed by Hipgnosis, the famous graphic studio who designed a lot of album covers for Pink Floyd and others.
The first proposal by designer Storm Thorgerson was a electric green tennis court with a tennis racket on it. Jimmy didn’t like it, he was furious that Thorgerson was implying, by a visual pun, that their music sounded like a “racket”. Jimmy fired Thorgerson and hired Aubrey Powell (also Hipgnosis). Detail: The band didn’t grant access to the songs for Hipgnosis, they just got the information, that the title will be HOTH. That’s not a lot.
The cover was inspired by the novel Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke. I haven’t read the novel yet, so I’m not familiar with it. The science fiction novel is an epic fantasy that culminates in a scene in which all the children in the world gather together, meld into a burning column and depart the Earth. An image of the children clamoring towards some special spot from which they might depart en masse as spiritual or mental energy seemed eminently feasible and very evocative. It felt appropriate: civilisation climbing to a new dawn — a conception that was mythic like the band itself (Source).
The photographs were taken at the Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland. It was a ten day shooting and it must have been very frustrating, because they wanted to capture the light at dawn and dusk but it was cloudy and rainy, so the desired effect was never achieved.
It proved to be an extremely difficult shoot. I had wanted a sunrise or sunset, but the weather was terrible. It was early November and rained every day. Then we ran out of make-up and had to resort to car spray paint. The two children, Samantha and Stefan Gates, and their stalwart mother braved freezing conditions and extreme boredom and became thoroughly fed up.(Source)
The two children are siblings (brother and sister) called Stefan and Samantha Gates. Fun fact: Stefan never listened to the album until 2010 where he talked about it in an interview. He thought there was something sinister about the image (his sister disagreed).
The pictures were finally taken in black and white and then were multi-printed to create the effect of 11 individuals as seen on the cover. It’s a collage out of several photographs. Artist Philip Crennel hand-tinted the photo, applying water-soluble colored dyes applied in layers with a brush and airbrush to create the explosion of color out of orange, turquise and purple hues we see on the cover today.
The naked children create a vibe of innocence and natural beauty. And evoke mystery, too, because you just see them from behind and you can’t see their faces. They also suggest a younger, childlike vision of Robert with their glowing, golden locks. Their arms reach to the sky, the reason why they do that remains a mystery.
Like the last album cover there were no title and band name but Peter Grant allowed Atlantic Records to add a wrap-around paper title band for the US copies. It was like a seal that had to be broken for getting access to the record.
Fun fact: Facebook recently banned HOTH from their side because of the nudity of the children.
The inner sleeve shows some more mystery. You see a naked adult holding a child in uprised hands in front of ruins (Dunluce Castle, nearby Giant’s Causeway). Again you can’t see their faces.
A lot of questions are coming up. Is this adult offering a human? Are the children on the front side climbing up to this castle? Is there any relation to Jimmy’s interest in Aleister Crowley? What does that all mean?
My interpretation is that it is simply this idea of the children in the novel. They climb and reach for a higher level. Maybe you can also read it as growing up to another level. Because you don’t see their faces it can be anybody. You can put yourself in the place of a child.
The inner sleeve I find more difficult to read. For me it’s clearly a human offering to the gods (the light). The castle could be a temple, but it’s a very old one, rotten and almost forgotten and decayed . Maybe it’s a reminder to not forget who we are and where we come from and where we are going.
So I leave the questions to you! What do you think? And of course I’d love to know your favorite song! Mine is No Quarter, which is one of my overall favorite song of Led Zeppelin (but to be honest, I love the live versions more than the studio version).
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quintessence-sentimentalist Takes on 30 Days of W.i.t.c.h.versary!: Week Two
Another week, another seven days of WITCHversary! Days 8-14 below the cut!
Day 8 Favorite extra/special
If I’ve read all or most of the specials, I can only remember like three of them... That said, of those three I have to go with W.i.t.c.h. On Stage.
The artwork... isn’t my favorite, and my judgment is it takes place on the cusp between the Ragorlang and New Power arcs (or New Power and... whichever one comes next), which is a time period I largely ignore, but what can I say, it’s a fun special! I’m such a sucker for “let’s talk about our adventures in the form of a fictional story” narratives (part of why I love Will’s potential future as a writer in issue 50), so this special really hit on that with the girls creating a play about being Guardians. Even more fun is the existence of M.A.G.I.C. to be their stars, although it still would have been fun to see the girls play a fictionalized version of themselves.
But most of all, this special has a [ahem] special place in my heart because this was how I discovered that there were more issues after the Ragorlang arc ended the English translations. Even though, again, I largely ignore everything that happened after that arc, it was still such an exciting time to find out that my girls still had many many more adventures after things seemingly ended.
Day 9 Favorite Guardian uniform
Ok, I’m doing Top 3 (in no particular order) because this is difficult and my favorites are favorites for different reasons.
1) Will, classic Guardian design: This is absolutely where my obsession with bell sleeves began. Also really loved those boots. I generally preferred the uniform tops to be purple and the bottoms green, so this worked for me on multiple levels. Will’s was the uniform I would totally wear myself (sporty but still with some fun, girly aspects via the sleeves), so I’ve always adored it. I don’t particularly like how New Power updated it (with the exception of the long fingerless gloves), so this is my preference for Will.
2) Cornelia, classic Guardian design: I’m in love with that off-the-shoulder neckline and the pointy sleeve hem and that long, elegant skirt. Might not be the most practical design for fighting, but it’s just so pretty that I love it regardless.
3) Hay Lin, New Power: Vast improvement over the classic design (which was cute but, well, threadbare) while still capturing its essence and Hay’s as well (all the ribbons). I also adore Hay’s buns and the rest of the hair hanging free - the change from the pigtails really made it hit home that these girls have evolved and grown up (granted, not that the narrative will let them age) over the course of the series.
Day 10 Favorite world/planet
Hmm, well, at the risk of sounding boring, I still think I’m going with Earth. I do love the design and bits of world-building we get from the other worlds (primarily with Meridian), but I appreciate how the girls’ home was developed, considering quite a bit of action still happened there.
I enjoy how Heatherfield is still something of a larger city, but also has a... not necessarily small-town feel, but I guess more like a college town or a neighborhood off of a major city. Like you still get the city experience, but there are also cozy local hangouts that’ll become your usual haunts. There’s the diner, and the dance school, and the old bookstore... maybe I’ve just lived in a few too many of these types of places myself (where I can walk into one of my favorite little shops and the cashier recognizes me immediately), but that’s the vibe I get. Plus, Heatherfield is home to a few eclectic non-magical characters who largely make up the supporting cast, so that’s fun as well.
And it’s not just Heatherfield I like. Redstone was a cool change of pace, sending some of the girls to the other side of the world and to what I still think is an awesome campus. I also liked that we got at least a glimpse at/general idea of Fadden Hills with the visits to Kadma and the Year Before special, instead of just leaving it as mere spoken reference to Will’s old home. We even get to see Open Hill after Eric moves, so I think it’s pretty cool that things on Earth aren’t just limited to the girls’ hometown like it’s the only city that exists.
Day 11 Something awesome
Oh, I’m so tempted to do another Top Three/Top Five, but most of the ones I’d cover I’ve either already reblogged from someone else (i.e. the comic transformation sequences, the final battle in Z is for Zenith, etc.) or waxed poetic about before (*cough* everything about animated Shagon). So I’m just going to go with the top most awesome thing I have in mind.
Listen. “We Are W.i.t.c.h.” is still by far the most played song in my music library. The first time I heard the full version waaaaayyy back when was on Radio Disney during a weird hour of the day, and from then on I had the radio on every moment I could so I could catch it again. (I never did, not until I got the CD.) I still get chills and a major throwback whenever I watch the US opening sequence. Long story short, I couldn’t ask for a more kickass theme song.
Day 12 Something that made you cry
It takes some effort to make me cry (or I’ll cry at the most unexpected things), so I’m not sure anything has actually made me burst out in physical tears. But here are a few things that just get me in the heart:
1) Dormouse’s death: In the retrospect of having lost a beloved pet over the last few years, this one is more painful than I can say. Especially so when you think about it and how it was basically used as tragedy fodder after things finally start looking up for Will. (Her father’s dropped the custody case! Things are actually alright with her mom for once! They’re going for a walk to celebrate! Really, can the poor girl’s happiness last for more than two seconds???) The US English translations (via the chapter books) ended with issue/book 26, and this event is omitted entirely, with the story ending on the happy note of Thomas dropping the case and then the back-end comic excerpts being replaced by a scrapbook-like section of the girls’ adventures.
2) Cedric’s death: At least this tragedy had some sort of impact on the narrative rather than just being senseless, but it’s still painful and some of the effects of his death (read: the writing-out of Orube) are uncalled for and hurt equally as much.
3) That first reunion with Yan Lin in Kandrakar: Tears. Happy tears, but oh so many of them.
Day 13 Something heartwarming
Hrm, that’s a tough one. My immediate thought is “everything about animated Will/Matt,” but let’s go for some new material from me for once.
Oooh! My second thought was the issue about Anna Lair and her old friends and how she came to be in Irma’s life. We don’t often have focus on the girls’ parents and who they are outside of their daughters, and Anna is fascinating because we don’t even find out until issue 25 that - despite their near-identical appearances - she’s Irma’s step-mother and not her biological mother. That reveal is dropped in as hurtful words in an argument, and this detail is pretty much forgotten for three story arcs, until we finally get this issue on Anna’s past.
It’s heartwarming to me because it hits on so many tropes I love: (flashback) focus on a minor character, a different character (in this case, Irma) bringing back around something meaningful from the focus character’s past (fulfilling the pact Anna made with her two friends and reuniting them at the beach all these years later), and a tie-in to the main plotline via the W.i.t.c.h. girls promising that - should life take them in different directions - they’ll one day meet again in Heatherfield.
And now I really want to reread this issue, it’s one of my favorite standalones...
Day 14 Something that irks you
I think we’re all in agreement when I say this, but New Power Matt is the woooooorst. And I’m just going to leave it at that because I have tried to block it from my mind as much as possible, and if I start dredging things up and talking about it we will be here for a while.
Okay, maybe just a little bit...
It just makes no sense!!!! If they framed it like Matt’s memories of Kandrakar had been sealed the whole time or he was an emissary who’d been reincarnated as a normal Earth human, and he only got his true memories back “when the time was right,” that would at least explain some things! Like yeah, his behavior would still be downright dickish, but at least I could spin him as a more sympathetic character - one struggling with who he has been and who he used to be/now is again, and that’s why he’s behaving so erratically. (This is my area of expertise when it comes to fic. I could easily and enjoyably pick apart New Power Matt’s mind if we had this for context.)
But noooooo, we’re told that he’s known about Kandrakar the entire damn time, and he just... what, flat-out lied to Will and pretended to be surprised about everything related to Guardianship? Way to make both Will and the readers feel like fools. If this the story we’re supposed to believe, was comics Will/Matt a sham this whole time, just New Power Matt trying to weasel his way into the Guardians’ inner circle until he can finally play his true role? Ugh.
Like seriously, screw this entire plot point and just give me that New Power Eric idea I had a while back that actually made sense and would have worked so much better.
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BODY AND SOUL Part 25 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)
BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST
Author’s Note: From here on out, Duncan and Kenzie will both start to manifest more of their witch/warlock powers, amid the rest of the story. Their powers in this universe will never be as strong as their powers are as Michael and Mallory, but they will eventually learn how to control them better. The further they get from the city, the stronger their powers will become--as we’ll see in the next part. Duncan’s powers are stronger when Kenzie is near and when his motivation is something for her benefit. If it’s not obvious from the context, Duncan manifests Transmutation in this part for the first time when he moves himself to the water table; as we all know, Transmutation is one of the Seven Wonders. I loved getting to write Madeline telling Gretchen to shut the fuck up. Duncan panicked so immediately at Kenzie’s disappearance, he completely forgot about trying to use his phone to call/text her; I needed him to realize he can feel her over distances now, so fuck phones. The macarons look like this. The gold bottles of Moet are these. With Sargent’s KARER SEE, I wanted to give the readers an indication of Duncan’s idea of heaven in a piece of art he’d looked at since childhood; a lot of the next few chapters will be about the magic and divinity of nature, so it’s leading into those themes. The artworks I reference in this part: Waterhouse’s THE MAGIC CIRCLE (I have a print of that one hanging in the hallway of our apartment), Robert-Hughes’ MIDSUMMER EVE (I’ve had a print of this one since I was 14, and that print hangs in our entranceway), Millais’ THE MARTYR OF THE SOLWAY, Robert-Hughes’ DREAM IDYLL (I want a print of this one so bad now, fuck, it’s so beautiful). The service people are dressed as The Lady of Shalott, Narcissus, and Rosamund. Here’s Robert-Hughes’ DAY and NIGHT (STAR OF HEAVEN). As my Duncan is a lifelong art lover (especially romantic art), he has studied the Pre-Raphaelites extensively and knows the paintings from that time period extremely well. I made D’AULAIRES BOOK OF GREEK MYTHS Duncan’s most beloved in childhood because for a long time it was MY most beloved, starting around the time I was 11 or 12--I would check it out of the library almost every week and draw meticulous copies of the illustrations. It was the first book that really made me love mythology, and it is VERY close to my (and my Duncan’s) heart. The older edition (the one I’d get at the library) had a yellow cover and looked like this, and that’s what Duncan’s copy looks like too. Here’s the illustration of Persephone running to Demeter. Annette’s Bosendorfer Imperial looks like this. I made C-sharp the key that opens the passage in the library to the garage because it’s the first note of MOONLIGHT SONATA. The oak paneling in the library looks like this, the chandeliers like this. G-class Mercedes SUVs really do come with a smart key feature, I didn’t make that up, I think that shit is fucking bananas. BPM is one of the electronic/house stations on Sirius XM. Here is the beautiful Jubel cover of DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT Kenzie starts dancing to. That song is such a Duckenzie vibe. I listened to Kiiara’s Gloe a lot while editing this part, that is a HARD Duckenzie vibe song (”chain me up trap me in gold” like asdskgjshdghsg). SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE ME A GALA MOODBOARD, THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU ALL.
Duncan had felt drunk inside the strange aura Kenzie had created around them; his head was pounding now that it had evaporated, and it was all he could do to hold her against him, steady himself in her embrace. She felt suddenly hot and too-smooth under his fingers, like warm liquid was falling down her skin, like whatever she’d created around them was melting off her like rain water.
“Kenzie, baby, what was that?” He stared at her, his mind pricking with the residue of whatever it had been, like the final shocks of a fading orgasm. It was your power, angel. It was the energy that resides deep inside you. I know it was yours--but how did you do that? He’d balked harshly at Marissa’s sudden appearance, fighting off his intense dislike of her as best he could while she had been standing before him, but his relief at her departure was so heady he felt his body tingling with it now, with the relief of it. She had been from some other life; known some other Duncan. She should never have approached them, but Kenzie, he should have known, could take care of herself quite well, and now, it seemed, more than ever.
“I don’t really know, honestly, Dunny.” Kenzie’s face was pale under her makeup, her little breaths against him ragged with strain. “I just--I made her go away. I told her to leave.”
“That energy that was around us--it was like a force-field. I could feel it, Kenz. Like it was physical. Like putting your hand in water.”
“I made it. But I don’t really...I don’t know how. I just did it. I pulled it out of myself and put it around us.”
She was pressing against him, and Duncan knew she needed his energy, his comfort. Maybe I can give her some of myself the way she gives herself to me so often--the way she pushes gold into me. He brought his cheek against the side of her face, his hands drifting at the rose buds at the back of her hair, and tried to imagine the blue of him floating down into her; he watched Kenzie’s face relax, then her eyes closed. It’s working. He noticed some of the other guests watching them, glancing to him embracing her, over her gold train and her rose-scattered hair amid their conversations and as they drifted past into the dining area. Duckenzie, Duckenzie, Duckenzie. Duncan Shepherd and Mackenzie Stone, there they are, look how beautiful they are, a Shepherd and a Stone, can you believe it, look at how he holds her--Duncan almost felt as though he could hear their thoughts. The night seemed to stretch into forever for him, and despite his concern for her he still couldn’t will away the agonizing sensitivity of the ring around his cock; will this ever end? God, I want to be alone with you so much, Kenzie. I can’t wait for this night to be over. I long to be safe and hidden in your embrace; I long for our solitude. Kenzie nodded against him, and he realized he had gathered her up in his arms, realized she was weak to the point of collapse, her knees buckling. She let out a little gasp, as if in surprise.
“I think it--I think it was too much, baby,” she whispered, and he stepped around her, lifting under her arms to help her sit down on the staircase near them. “I think I just--I need some water.”
“Okay, baby, okay,” Duncan was crouching down near her, his mind racing with fear. Fuck, baby, what WAS that? It was so intense, so powerful--it knocked the breath out of me to even be touching you while you did it. How can you possibly do something like that? What are you, Kenzie? What are we? He pressed his hands along her arms, soothingly, thinking his blue-flame thoughts down into her, imagining them licking around her carefully, like a low fire of soothing warmth. This is all so strange, but it feels so familiar too.. Like we’re unlocking parts of ourselves we didn’t realize were there. But they have been, all this time.
“I’m gonna go get you some water, okay, baby? I’ll be right back.” Duncan was whispering against her cheek. Kenzie nodded, her arms limp in her lap, her face still pale.
“Yes, please,” she murmured, her voice small, sighing. “I just need to sit for a minute.”
Duncan kissed her cheek with aching softness, then stood, pushing the worry he felt down with an insistent hand, turning towards the dining area that had been set up through the hall--he immediately noticed a huge banner that covered the wall through the carpeted way here, a towering print of Waterhouse’s The Magic Circle, falling from the top of the mansion’s high ceiling to the black carpet that ran along the floor here, continuing from outside. Tonight I see Kenzie in it, he thought. Kenzie pulling the circle out of herself and willing Marissa away with it. Fuck, I was so angry, but Kenzie was so calm. Kenzie was so fearless. And she is. How can I be afraid when she’s near? Okay, Duncan, focus. Kenzie needs water. Find some, quickly.
He glanced behind him to see Kenzie still resting on the step, her hand pressed to the side of her face, her gaze staring off into space. God, how did you do that, though, baby? That was fucking magic. I don’t know what else to call it. Like us being able to hear each other’s thoughts. Just straight fucking magic. What ARE you, my love? Who are you? He turned back, peering into the huge inner parlor he knew comprised this part of his mother’s mansion.
There were six low tables, embellished with black and gold cloth, spread against one wall, each with a stunning array of hors d’oeuvres and intricate sweets--round black-chocolate macarons with intricate golden icing, mounds of chocolate-dipped strawberries (white, dark, milk, caramel, toffee, even some with pink white chocolate) in every nook, tray after tray of glistening caviar and charcuterie, a hundred gold bottles of Moet stacked in a card-tower display, an impressive roasted pig with a russet-gold roasted apple in its mouth that seemed to be culled straight from a Medieval banquet hall, and an array of huge sheet cakes, each with a major Pre-Raphaelite work printed on it with sharp clarity--he could make out one with Robert-Hughes’ Midsummer Eve stretched across it, another with Millais’ serenely melancholy Martyr of the Solway. Everywhere I see her now, in everything, Duncan thought. There is no aspect that hasn’t adopted her shape. There is nothing that doesn’t reflect her in my eyes. He noticed crystal pitchers full of shivering ice water near the entrance to the next parlor with relief--but as Duncan went to step up to them to pour one for Kenzie, his path was blocked by a garish visage of gold and white tinsel--Gretchen Friedrichs.
“Duncan! There you are. But without your little princess, I see, I wonder where she went?”
Duncan breathed heavily through his nose, turning his eyes up to the ceiling, away from her blindingly white smile. Fates, surely you are testing me tonight. He felt his cock soften in the ring at the monstrosity of her dress--that at least is a boon, I guess.
“Afraid I don’t have the time for you tonight, Gretchen. You have a very selective memory regarding my willingness to actually engage with you.”
“You can’t possibly avoid me forever, Dunc-y,” she hissed, her smile clenching into a grimace. “I saw you and little Miss Stone talking to Marissa Montague over there, what a menage a trois that was, BPF would pay good money for the photo I snapped, I bet.”
“Gretchen, do whatever you want, but get out of my fucking way.” Duncan could feel hot anger boiling up behind his eyes and he snapped his mouth shut after the statement, his hands beginning to shake. Kenzie needs water and you are blocking it. Gretchen continued to ramble on with a smug look, but Duncan could no longer hear her words; a rushing like the hum of an ocean wave was filling his ears, and he closed his eyes, his body feeling hot, too hot, burning suddenly, like a fire growing under dry wood. I need to get to that water.
Suddenly Duncan was in front of the water pitcher table, so close to it he was falling against the edge, his eyes snapping open, almost losing his balance, bewildered as to how he got there. He glanced behind him in shock, noting that Gretchen was still where they’d both been standing a moment ago--he could only see the back of her horrible tinsel dress now, her head moving from side to side in confusion to find him. “What,” Duncan murmured to himself. “How--the fuck?” I thought about what I needed--water for Kenzie. And then what, I moved myself to the water table with my fucking mind? He felt wildly dizzy for a moment, watched the room pitch under his gaze, felt his eyes rolling--then he steadied himself with a forceful hand and grasped one of the pitchers, dipping it into one of the glass tumblers lined there. Who fucking cares, he thought. Water to Kenzie first, then I can figure out what the hell that was all about.
Duncan felt a hand dip against his elbow, dragging him out of his inner monologue--he heard Madeline’s familiar laugh near his shoulder, and looked down at her with a wave of intense relief. He noticed Erik had come up beside him with her, and Madeline’s laugh was directed at Annette’s flamboyant stylist.
“Duncan, there you are,” Madeline said, mirroring Gretchen’s facetious words with a reassuring sincerity. “Where’s Kenzie?” Suddenly Madeline looked worried, her mouth dipping down from the laugh.
“She felt dizzy and asked me to get her some water, so I left her on the stairs in the foyer--”
“Did something happen, sweetie? You look terribly pale.” Erik was holding a dry martini with three green olives swirling in the bottom, a plastic stirring straw languidly poised in his hand. He’d clearly been in the middle of one of his many wild stories (usually regarding being an openly gay socialite in 70’s New York City), but had stopped abruptly upon seeing Duncan’s confused face.
“We ran into Marissa Montague. She was harassing us--I don’t know how to explain it. Kenzie told her to go away, and she did. But then Kenzie felt dizzy. I think it’s all...it’s just a lot for her,” he finished, lamely. Finding out she has the actual mind power to make people go away if she wants them to, yeah, that’s a lot for her. And a lot for me too. And apparently I can move myself from one place to another just by thinking about it hard enough. So...that’s new.
“Honey, you look awful--I mean, you look wonderful, but you look awful, like you did last night. I saw Annette in the next room over, you might want to stay out of there if you’re trying to avoid her tonight,” Madeline had a plate with several of the chocolate-and-gold macarons on it in her hand. She offered one to Duncan and he took it. “Thanks, Madeline. I’ll bring this to Kenzie too. I think we’re just--it’s been a really long few days.”
“Duncan Shepherd, you’re going to talk to me or I’m going to give that photo to BPF--” Gretchen’s voice was coming up on them now from where she’d finally turned around.
“Gretchen, shut the fuck up,” Madeline snapped at her, pursing her lips and glaring at the platinum-haired woman over her glasses. “I told you not to cart your bootlicking bony ass near Duncan and Mackenzie tonight, didn’t I? Are you fucking deaf?” Gretchen’s mouth closed with a snap, and Erik snorted at her in abrupt amusement. Duncan sent a silent thank you out to Kenzie’s (wonderful, bold, brilliant, badass) mother, and brushed past Gretchen’s horrible tinsel sleeve, the glass of water in one hand and the little chocolate macaron in the other, back towards where he had left Kenzie on the stairs. He heard Gretchen’s snappy heels try to come after him, then the rushing swirl of Erik’s earrings and poncho as he blocked her path. I love you both so much, Duncan thought. I could kiss your feet right now. I could sing your high praises into heaven.
He walked quickly back through the hall, heart racing, eyes glancing back up to The Magic Circle, hovering over him, spread gargantuan on the wall like an overwhelming spell, and he felt a drop in his stomach, suddenly, a foreboding drift of precognition--Duncan looked up to where he’d left Kenzie on the stairs. The spot was empty, and Kenzie was nowhere to be seen.
Oh no. Baby. Where are you.
Duncan’s eyes skirted back and forth rapidly, over the politicians and celebrities decked in opulent gowns and meticulously tailored suits, his heart floating up again into his throat, stifling his breath. He tried to steady his racing thoughts--okay, Duncan, okay. Where would she have gone. Maybe she went outside to get some air. The front balcony is up the stairs. She would have seen it from outside.
Duncan turned up the staircase, dipping his head down, anxious to avoid anyone coming down the stairs opposite him, but skirting his eyes up to search for Kenzie. He saw a flash of gold on the opposite side of the staircase, started toward it--but it was someone else, a random woman with a gold bow tied around her waist, her arm looped around the man descending the stairs beside her. And the problem with making gold part of the theme is...everyone is wearing something gold. A cold sweat was breaking out on Duncan’s brow, and his skin felt clammy, his nerves jangling wildly. Fuck, baby, where did you go.
Duncan reached the top of the staircase, turning with a clipped insistence from the banister to the upstairs railing, around to where he knew the balcony extended over the front doorway; he thought of the night he’d come here to tell his mother about Kenzie for the first time, the dark look in her eyes as she’d gazed down on the BMW from her lofty position. You always want to be a little bit above everyone else, Mom, he thought, but Claire Underwood outwitted you this time. She told me the one thing she knew would make me resent you. And now I do. I can’t help it. I’m fucking heartbroken, and I resent you. I resent that it had to come to this for you to accept Kenzie, too. For you to finally see how beautiful she is. It shouldn’t have taken you so long. It’s so obvious. She’s like the sun in a clear summer sky, the moon tonight, golden and immediate. You knew right away that she was infinitely lovely. But you refused to let me see that you knew. You were selfish, and you hid what you knew in your heart to be true. Duncan was still clutching the glass and the macaron in a careful hand. These are for Kenzie, so I need to keep them safe.
Duncan pitched one of the French doors open with the opposite hand, half-running out onto the ledge of the balcony--there were two men smoking and chatting animatedly to one another, one of them gesticulating in the air and the other laughing, and they both turned to him, surprised at the loud bang of the door swinging open. He glanced at them, them his eye skirted over the rest of the ledge, frantic, to no avail. There was no one else. Kenzie isn’t here. Kenzie, where are you, fuck, baby, where the fuck are you.
“Mr. Shepherd, are you alright?” One of the men spoke loudly to him, cupping his hand beside his mouth from where they were leaning. He didn’t recognize them, but it made sense that they’d recognize him; this was his mother’s house, after all.
“Have either of you seen Mackenzie Stone? She’s wearing a gold dress with a long train and a gold necklace with a ruby. Roses in her hair.”
The men looked at each other, shaking their heads, then back at him. “Nobody’s been out here but us since we came out to smoke. Before you, that is.”
“Okay. Um. Thanks.”
Duncan turned, sickness pitting in his stomach, feeling dizzy again. He yanked the French door open again, reentering the mansion--he could hear the loud sounds of the crowd growing downstairs, and alarm was beating wildly into him, beginning to constrict his throat and needle at his lungs. She was dizzy, what if she fainted somewhere? What if someone bothered her? Harris isn’t here, what if someone took her somewhere? Oh, fuck. The needling fear compounded in him, pressing painfully into his senses. Duncan breathed in, slowly, closing his mouth. Remember how you told her to breathe. Just breathe. Her face was so frightened. But you calmed her. You know you did. You pressed your comfort into her, the way she can to you. You can do that, too, and you know it. You just did something else, too. You moved without moving through physical space. You fucking teleported from one end of the room to the other. How the fuck would you do that? But you fucking did it. You didn’t walk around Gretchen--she wouldn’t have let you. You fucking MOVED through invisible space around her. You mutated time and space and made yourself appear where you wanted to be. You twisted it to your will. You know you did. You FELT it.
Duncan held the breath, then blew carefully through his mouth, closing his eyes.
If I can do that--if I can move through time and space if I want something badly enough, if I need it badly enough--I wonder if I can will myself to feel her, too, if I need it badly enough, if I need to know. Feel her across time and space, wherever she is in this house, feel her there, and know that she’s there, and fucking find her. I wonder if that first night on the balcony I was drawn there by the knowledge that she was there. That even though I didn’t know it consciously, I knew it innately. I knew she was there in my secret heart. I think so. I think I did.
So, now. Kenzie. Where are you. Show me where you are.
Duncan breathed in once more, through his nose--then, he held the breath, and as he did, he pressed himself outward (through time and space), sent himself, his secret self, out. He felt it, felt the piece of him like a tendril, a string (a golden thread, tinged with blue) that extended from him and drifted out, searching, intent. Kenzie. Where are you. Tell me. It’s me, Kenzie.
He continued to drift himself out this way, to let his mind wander in cool darkness. He couldn’t see the interior of the mansion in his mind--it was inky black with his eyes closed, and there were no images in his mind, but nevertheless he could feel the searching, sense it rather than see it, and knew, suddenly, that he was close to her, that she was nearby--in his senses he could suddenly smell roses and vetiver, the muskiness of her body, could sense that she was in tears, could almost taste their salt. Kenzie, Kenzie. Oh baby, where are you? It’s me. Tell me where you are. Can you hear me?
He opened his eyes. She hadn’t replied--he hadn’t heard her voice, not out loud and not in his mind, either--but Duncan could feel her anyway, feel the gold of her, pulsing like a ball of immaculate light. He couldn’t really see where she was, not with his eyes. But he could feel her. He began to walk, releasing all resistance from his mind as he let the breath out--his feet led him back down the stairs, and then he was running down them, the water from the glass in his hand splashing down his fingers. He veered to the side, around the stairs and under them, narrowly avoiding a Congresswoman in a voluminous glittering black gown, gasping out an apology and continuing back, through the space there with a good portion of his mother’s private art collection, down a back hall.
No one was back here--the hall opened to another large parlor, this one dark and quiet, the shadows long on the red velvet loveseats. Duncan knew this room well; it had once been his downstairs playroom when he was a child, later converted to another sitting room when he went away to private boarding school, the one where he’d been bullied relentlessly, as he revealed to Kenzie at Madeline’s house last night. He saw more of his mother’s storied art collection on these walls as he rushed through the room, still following the feeling that was Kenzie--particularly, one of the pieces he’d long admired since he was a child. It was called Karer See, and it depicted a landscape of pink, navy and lavender precipices, rising above a dappled green-and-coppery forest and the white rocky shore of a blue lake in watercolors. It was a protected monument in Italy, and the painting was by a turn-of-the-century American named John Singer Sargent, who was far better known for his portraits, particularly one of Teddy Roosevelt. As a child Duncan remembered staring at it for hours, particularly drawn to its purply hills--I bet heaven looks like that, he remembered thinking. Like those hills. Now they drew him back into the memory of the dreams he’d been having as of late; the dream of Kenzie with wings, soothing his darkness away, the dreams in the ethereal other place that felt imperceptible to him outside those dreams, where Kenzie’s eyes whirled with golden galaxies and her clothing was made of strange geometries. Duncan walked quickly past the painting, his eyes skirting to it in the shadows, affectionately, like it was an old friend.
His feet continued to carry him beyond, through to the end of the room, and Duncan’s heart slammed into his ribs: he could really feel her now, knew she was very close, could feel the golden-blue thread running down to her, shortening with every step he took, his black Wyatt boots clicking in the silence and shadows of this part of the mansion, ringing in his ears. The golden, pulsing heart of her was close, so close--he marveled at it, seeing it and not seeing it, wondering how he could have ever missed it that first night, missed it in the days that led up to now, but then recalled how her headband with pointed stars had looked in the city lights that night--how Kenzie looked in the morning, in the sunlight, in his bedroom, in his bed, soon to become theirs. A halo. And this light--this is her halo. It’s not a halo like how I’ve always thought of one, though. This halo is the iridescence of her soul, and it calls out to me, through time. I would see it in the deepest darkness. I would see it even if every star in the universe burnt out into nothing. I’d see it. I would. I can quiet my mind, and in that quiet place, and I can always find her. I will always be able to see her there.
At the end of the room was a squared half-space cut away from the wall, and in the space were three doors--one led outside, through an unremarkable blank white door with a peephole, a door which Duncan knew well. It faced the backlot of the mansion and when he was a child a car would pick him up from that curb to take him to his private elementary school. The door to his right was a supply closet for the housekeeper--and the left door was an old-fashioned powder room, a golden plaque on it with laser-cut letters that told as much, with a elegant round sink, a vanity with an oval mirror, a blush-colored chaise lounge and a discreet toilet with a wood door, if he remembered correctly. It was rarely used, as this back parlor room was now rarely used--and therefore no one would suspect it to be occupied by any guests tonight.
But Kenzie’s in there, Duncan knew. And she’s been crying.
Duncan went to the door, and for a moment he didn’t speak, only achingly pressed his fingers against it--he could feel her emanating out from it with golden warmth, tinged with painful spears of distress. Duncan realized he’d felt these spears before, but not as consciously--that night she texted me and asked me to come to her apartment, that same night I told Mom about her, he realized. I could feel her tears all the way to her door. My heart had ached with them. It was as if his memory had been shrouded in a fine fog, and feeling her as he now could, many hidden aspects of it were now becoming clear. And now that he was here, now that his ear was pressed to the door, Duncan could hear her, so quiet as to be almost imperceptible to his ears, but with his mind he could hear her, finally hear her voice, and then he could hear the minute rustle of her tears, the quiet movements she made in the room behind the door.
Why is there so much darkness in people’s hearts? Her thoughts drifted into him, and he felt that she didn’t know he was there yet, lost in her sadness. Why can I feel it press on me so sharply now, feel it as though it were my own burden? Why is it so cutting, like a knife? Is it because we love each other so much? Has it opened my heart so much that I can feel pain as well, as much as beauty and joy, this way? Goddess, it fucking aches. The hate in his eyes. As if he resented my very existence, my reality. Resented his Fate, and wished he could begrudge me my own.
Oh, baby, what happened. Duncan knocked, softly, breath hitching. “Kenzie. Baby. It’s me.”
There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment and he could hear Kenzie sniffing now, her little voice sighing, and it made his body shudder with longing for her. He tried the knob; it was locked.
“Kenzie. Please let me in.”
There was another beat, and then he could hear her moving--moving to the door and turning the lock. She pulled it open and he moaned to see her tearstained face in the low golden light she’d switched on in the powder room; the glistening moisture on her cheeks. Her eyes (the damp cool of evening as the light fades to russet gold) fell into his and he reached for her, gripped her little wrist in aching fingers over the gold and diamond of the Cartier bracelet locked there, and gently pushed on the door so it fell open. Kenzie stood there weakly, her golden aura still intensely lovely, her sadness shrouded in angelic sweetness; her sadness is divine, as everything that is her is divine, her sorrow holy, and I would kiss it from her lips, drink it into me, take it from her and soothe her. Duncan shut the door behind them, turning the lock again. No eyes but mine, baby. He set down the water glass, half empty from spilling it as he ran, and macaron, now half-crushed, onto the vanity, gathering her into his arms, gathering the golden folds of her dress into his body, pressing his face down into the crook of her little collarbone against the gold braid of the necklace, the scent of the roses in her hair drifting into him, and he loved it so, loved the way she melted into him, the relief he felt wash over her to be inside his arms, the relief he pushed into her to have found her safe, to have found her, to have seen her and found her this way. She sighed, her head falling back, her eyes fluttering closed, and her mouth dipped open, pressing against the dripping gold of his jacket.
“Fuck, Kenzie, I was so scared--”
“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry,” she was whispering and his mouth was rushing against hers, I can’t fucking not kiss you anymore, baby, I can’t be away from you anymore, please let me kiss you, please kiss me oh god I thought you were gone I thought you were hurt I thought you were lost and he was saying “Kenzie, I love you, I fucking love you, baby, I love you--” and she was moaning with an aching insistence into him, lifting her breasts into his fingers in the delicate boning of her bodice, her little arms drifting around his neck, her hair and the dip of her back so soft it brought tears into his eyes, her little tongue pressing against his suddenly, her head turning and reaching up to his fingers, her little hands flitting down over the crotch of his tightly tailored pants, kindling the blood back into his cock, reminding him of the ring again finally as it pressed needily into his hardness after his panicked forgetting, reminding him that he belonged to her and she belonged to him, and that this day has been such a long one to bear, jagged with emotion, that he longed for her as the sun longed for the moon during the longest day. Duncan was gasping against her, determined to find the source of her pain before he became utterly lost in her--he broke their kiss, looking down into her eyes, pressing her against the edge of the vanity’s mahogany table. They were half-lidded now, their dark green-gold shimmering with an insistent approval, an urging that was tinged with pain and kindled with need.
“Kenzie, what happened? Why are you crying? Why did you leave the stairs?”
He kept his voice soothing and low, watched the little trembling movements of her face, the shivering of her eyelashes, the tears hovering there, the dip of wetness on her lips from him, the dampness around her nose from crying. Her makeup hadn’t been mussed, though--Georgio had done his job immensely well. She looked down, and he saw her chin trembling now, too, fighting off more tears. He pulled a tissue from a box on the vanity, gently dabbing it under her eyes, soothing it on her cheeks, his other hand coming up to cup under her chin.
“It was your uncle.”
“What?” God, I’d completely forgotten he’d be here. He shouldn’t be, he’s too sick, but he’s so stubborn. He must be in a lot of pain tonight. Fuck, he must be in a terrible mood tonight.
“He’s here. He showed up a minute after you went to get me some water--” Kenzie glanced at the half-empty glass, reached for the macaron absently, staring down at it, avoiding his eyes now, trying to hide her hurt.
“From Momby,” he murmured, and she nodded, lip trembling again, bringing it up to her lips and biting into it, a tear falling from her eye as she nibbled at it, as if to absorb her mother’s strength through it.
“He--he saw me first. I still felt so weak, I felt like I could hardly stand. He recognized me right away. I sort of recognized him, I mean, I’d seen a picture of him before, and I felt that it was him, you know? How I can...do that.” She breathed in, shudderingly, and Duncan lowered his hand carefully to her thigh, the silence heavy, pressing into them. His cock was pressing into the front of his pants now, flushed with arousal again at her nearness, the terrible ache in him returned after the anxiety had pushed it back. Kenzie had turned her eyes up to him once more, her hair falling back, the very soft golden light in the solitude of the powder room glinting through her dress. It was so quiet now; his fear had stilled, his anxiety had gone entirely, and all he knew was that Kenzie was sad, that he wanted her with an ache that was utterly beyond words, and that the strange, chaotic energy of this evening was reaching a peak, the press of it having settled into his body. He realized vaguely that he hadn’t had a drink for hours and yet felt deeply drunk--drunk on you, my love, drunk with need for you.
“He came up to me and I could feel how much pain he was in right away--his face was pinched with pain, and he was trying to hide it in his body but I could feel it,” Kenzie had swallowed the rest of the cookie and was moving her hands out towards him, towards his chest, her fingers drifting against him. Fuck, yes, Kenzie, touch me, please, please, there’s nothing else but your touch. Duncan let his other hand drift up to her breast and Kenzie leaned into his fingers, her head dipping to the side as she spoke.
“He said “you’re a cunning little slut, aren’t you, well, you’re not getting into this family no matter how many times you fuck him,” and the pain he was in was so strong, Duncan, it was like I couldn’t even speak, couldn’t move, I could feel it like dark storm clouds--I felt frozen around him, he felt dark, I wanted to run away from him but he grabbed onto me here--” she held up her wrist and Duncan reached for it with achingly delicate fingers, soothing along her skin where he could almost feel the hot memory of his uncle’s anger. How dare you, Bill. How fucking dare you touch her. I could fucking kill you. “--and he said I bet you had something to do with Claire Underwood telling him about all that, didn’t you, I bet you’re the one who told him to go to Claire--” “Oh, fuck, baby, no, fuck--” Duncan was pressing against her now, pressing her into the vanity’s edge, and he felt the anger and need in him crash against him again, felt the ring pressing with insistence into his groin, could feel the trembling in her limbs expanding now, could feel the sadness in her dissipating into her own desire, her thoughts beginning to pulse with a deeper frustration, one for him. I want you, he heard it drift through him, into the core of him. Fuck, Duncan, I want you now.
“Who fucking cares what he thinks about anything, Kenzie--” his mouth was hovering just above hers, his arms tight around her, tightening more, desperate to have her as close as she could possibly be, the halo of gold hovering around her in his eyesight now. “He’s dying and he resents our happiness and you know that, he resents you because you’re so fucking lovely and so good, and so much more than he ever was, could ever be--” and Kenzie was breathing harshly against him now, fighting to hold onto her composure, he could feel it, feel her need to hold out for just a moment longer, her skin damp and warm and so soft under his fingers, her smell exquisitely sweet with an edge of wildness now, the Bacchanalian energy of the Gala beyond having finally reached them here in this secret corner, and it seemed to be flooding the powder room, stoking his cock. His hands fell down to cup around her ass and Kenzie’s words hitched, she moaned into the edge of his jaw, “he hated me, baby--ha-hated me, hated, and it filled me with such sorrow for him, ohhh, Duncan, he hated my light, he wanted to crush it, so I ran away from him, I found this room, and Dunny, I felt you here, I felt that this space used to be yours, is that right, was it? Dunny--”
“Mhmmm, yes, Kenzie, it was--it was my playroom when I was little, it was mine for a long time, Kenzie, oh my Kenzie,” and his hands were falling further down to dip her ass apart, to spread her achingly from the plug he knew was still nestled inside her, and he opened his mouth against hers, hovering a breath away from kissing her, and he felt, with a deep, overwhelming drift of satisfaction, her own mouth open under him, the supplication in her in this moment, the aching breadth of the pause where their lips anticipated and contemplated each other, could suddenly sense the musk of her climb higher, sense her sharp need for him. The openness that had come upon her felt like it would stop his heart; Duncan knew, suddenly, that she would let him do anything he wished to her, let him worship her by any means in this room, in this moment charged with the intensity of this night, and that the anger she had felt from Bill Shepherd had only kindled in her, ultimately, the desire to love him even more, if she possibly could, had solidified and crystallized her devotion, and therefore Bill had failed, failed utterly in his goal to hurt her acutely. The hurt in her was already melting away, already obsolete in the face of their desire for each other now, and her trust burst over Duncan like the soothing, stinging slap of a cascade of clear water. I would die for you, Duncan Shepherd. I would die a thousand deaths. There are no words for my devotion. As I know you are devoted to me with all of your soul, know that my devotion too is undying. There is nothing that can tear us asunder, not truly. Now, beloved: worship me with your body.
Duncan’s fingers drifted down, down through the dip between her ass, finding the jeweled end of the plug under the silky gold; Kenzie gasped into his mouth and her breath was sweet with chocolate, her eyes glowing with the depth of her need, the tears still trapped there now tears of her devotion for him, and his hand pressed, hard, insistent, against it, pressing the plug harshly into her, her body rocking up from the edge of the vanity flush against him. His other hand came up, drifting over her collarbones, up to the slender, delicate beauty of her throat, fingers trailing over the gold braid (but I’m imagining your rose choker there, so achingly beautiful, my beloved) and he gripped her there, gentle at first, then with gathering strength, pulling her flush against him, her legs now spreading on either side of his thigh, one of them dipping, white and achingly beautiful, from the slit in the cascade of the golden gown she wore, the space between her thighs hot through the leg of his pants, his crotch heavy with hardness against her abdomen, one hand driving the plug roughly into her, the other squeezing into her throat, her mouth open under his.
“Fuck me, Prince,” Kenzie whispered, her breath gasping under his hand. Duncan tightened it again. She cried out, her voice needling into him; he closed his eyes, gasped against her, his lips dipping up to her nose, down to the crook of her chin. Her slender, beautiful hands found the button of his pants, finally, Kenzie, fuuuuck, fuck me, fucking finally, and she was working the opening there apart, fingers finding the silicone edge of the ring, the absolute torment that had become his erection, stoked back and forth for hours now between the throes of hardness and arousal. She pulled it out, her touch a wild distress to him, making him groan beyond his ability to control, and he looked down as she did at his cock--it was pink with hardness, straining, jumping with a shivering vibration against her palm cupped along its underside. It needed her, and nothing else would suffice. Please, help me, his thought leaked through him, and he saw that she heard him with acute clarity from the blush on her cheeks. Only you can ease my suffering, Mackenzie Stone.
Kenzie kept her palm flush against his cock, her eyes finding his, locking in his gaze, and she dipped her fingers up between her legs, up under the slit of the dress, finding the waistband of her panties and leaning away from the edge of the vanity--she pulled them down and as they fell around her ankles she lifted her feet out of them, pushing them away with the edge of one heel. She spread her thighs apart now, the dress hitching a little up her hips from the slit, shimmering, exposing her to the dip of her leg turning into her abdomen, but still shrouding her cunt, and Duncan demandingly urged his hand against the plug inside her ass again through the supple fabric--the moan that fell from her lips drifted in a long, loud cadence, extending through the moment, spreading with a golden insistence. Kenzie didn’t speak again, only slid up onto the vanity’s mahogany surface now, his hand lifting at her ass to steady her there, and then using her palm to guide his thick, constricted cock to the dip between her legs, and her eyes said I’m going to beg you now, beloved, I want to beg you.
“Please fuck me,” she whined into him, her eyes liquid with color, and Duncan heard the moan that escaped him, an involuntary one he’d never have been able to stave off, a cry that erupted from the center of his soul. He drove himself into her, and they gasped into the crevice of each other’s lips, her little tongue pressing flush into his, her need exquisite, wanton, and abject. Duncan felt lost in it--her trust was absolute here, and it shattered at his soul. He kept his fingers pressed tightly at her throat, the golden necklace indenting into his palm as he carefully hitched at her dress, riding it up higher towards her hips, pressing her thighs apart, and dipping his thumb down to her clit, down to her cunt to feel at her wetness to be sure she was ready, before he drove his cock further into her, utterly, until he was buried inside her, and he went to her ear and whispered “Kenzie, I have been waiting to fucking fuck you, and now I’m going to do it for as long as I want to, and you’re mine, aren’t you, baby, aren’t you, you’re my angel baby who needs my cock, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, Dunny, yes, fuck me, fuck, ahh, you’re so fucking hard, unng, please, please, I need you, I need your cock, neeeeed you--”
He was tapping his fingers against the plug now, harsh little snaps that made her body keen, made her eyes flutter rapidly, made her breath shudder out as he drove in and out of her, his eyes dipping down to look at the spread lips of her labia, the glistening moisture of her arousal, the wetness and painful hardness of his thick cock as he fucked her, the ring causing blood to course through his length again and again, sending his mind into a shivering spiral of lust that urged him on, harder, harder, and he was dragging her against him, their bodies so flush that he lost his understanding of where they ended, as he had before, a loss so exquisite to him he already felt sorrow for the moment he knew they’d be separated again, her little face pressed into the crook of his neck, her fingers gripping at his jacket with tight fingers, her mouth a round, supple fruit on his skin, and her keening, tiny sounds sending undulations of relief into him, shudderingly cool, achingly hot.
“Finally, finally, fuck, Kenzie, I thought I would fucking die from not being able to fuck you--” their mouths were distressing into each other, his hand still possessive at her throat, and he wanted to speak to her aloud, wanted her to hear him with her ears rather than her thoughts, wanted to speak, needed to tell her as well as he could with words, “I thought I’d go insane from it, god, like your hand was around me all day, like your lips were on me there, I’ve been lost in thoughts of you, lost in my need for you--”
“I wanna suck your cock, baby,” she was whispering into him now, and Duncan moaned, the tiny softness of her in his arms, under his hand, around his length, making him shake. “Please, baby, please let me suck on your beautiful cock, it’s what I want. Make me suck it.” Blood surged into his length again, buried inside her, and he gasped, sucking air through his teeth, her eyes (golden starlight in a galaxy of green) hovering at his cheeks, her little face imploring him, beyond irresistible. I’m high on you, drunk on you, you are the headiest wine, the strongest weed, a drug beyond the sweetest of any drug on earth, my lovely beloved, my exquisite Princess, the constant kindling of my heart to the highest of all pleasure. He was pulling out of her, lost for a moment in the disappointment of his emptiness, then Kenzie was sliding off the vanity to the floor, sliding to her knees before him in the gold dress, the roses in her hair cascading with sweet scent, her little fingers gripping at him, wet with the arousal from inside her, dipping her mouth suddenly, quickly against the head of his cock and sucking lightly, her tongue fluttering on the underside against the delicate veins there, and the roses in her hair were shuddering at her attentions to him, they were shivering with her ache, and Duncan was moaning again, his hands gripping the sides of her head and driving her down onto him, her mind urging him on, yes, baby, yes, like that, make me suck you this way, I know you keep a wild god inside you and he pulses with lust, he wants to prostrate me, I long to be prostrated in this moment, I long for his wild needs, so make me, make me--and he was gripping her under her chin, gripping his long fingers under her jaw so his thumb pressed under her ear on one side of her face, and his index finger pressed to the other, and he was fucking her mouth with long, steady motion, and Kenzie’s eyes fluttered closed and she choked on him, her little throat constricting, but in her mind she was saying do not stop, don’t stop Duncan, don’t stop, fuck me, fucking fuck me, fuck your Princess, my mouth is for you--and so he did, continued to fuck her little mouth, his hardness filling her, drool sliding from her chin as she hooked her fingers around his thighs, clutching onto him.
“I’m not gonna come in your mouth, baby,” he murmured down to her, hearing the commanding edge there, knowing it was what she wanted him to say, knowing she wanted demands from him, because Duncan could feel the rushing in his ears, falling down his body, the threat of his release, and he was desperate to fuck her ass, fuck her ass that had been made caged for him for hours, fuck her ass that had had the plug hidden there, a secret for his pleasure, waiting for him. “It’s time to take your plug out now, and I’m gonna fuck your ass as hard as I want to, angel. Okay?” He was pulling out of her, his fingers still gripping along her jaw, and Kenzie was gasping, her eyes drifting open and closed, spittle leaking around her lower lip, her head crooked to the side as if she were about to drift into sleep, her little breasts heaving for air.
“Okay, baby,” she was moaning, and he was dipping down, his tongue lapping up the spit on her chin, lips bruising into hers, and her arms drifted up around his neck and he was pulling her up to her feet, steadying her, kissing her again and again, tasting at her need which hovered around her like a patina, knowing his own was as strong, loving the feeling of their mingling desires, loving that he knew how much she wanted him to command her this time, loving that he could give her what she was asking for, loving her radiant trust, lost in its effulgence. He pressed her back against the vanity again, his hands pressing harshly along her arms, along the golden waist of her gown, tasting her still, following the thrill of her tongue and her sighs, then he drifted himself away from her mouth with all the resolve he could muster, turned her hips so she faced the mirror, and looked into her eyes there. Kenzie’s breath was shallow, her eyes glowing with that unearthly gold, and she was nodding to him, her mouth dipped open. Fuck my ass, baby.
Duncan crouched, grasped the long hem of her gown, and straightened, pulling the dress in endless gathers of gold lame, dipping them up over her ass, holding them steady at her waist in his fist, tightly. His cock was pressing, utterly stiff and straining with painful hardness, against the dip between her ass cheeks now, and he moved back a little to see the jeweled end of the plug glittering up at him--around it, her ass was red with its attention, raw with its pressure from hours of its pressing on her, and Duncan groaned, feeling his cock jump up at the sight of it. Fuck. Angel. Spread for me. Spread your legs for me. Kenzie moved her thighs apart as he gripped the folds of her dress carefully at her back, and Duncan watched the plug bob inside her, shiver as her ass clenched on it. Time for me to fuck you in your tight little ass, Princess Kenzie.
He drifted his long fingers down to the jewel, then Duncan whispered “Push out, baby,” and Kenzie nodded, her golden gaze shivering on him in the vanity’s oval mirror--he pulled at the jeweled end, insistent, as he felt her ass push outwards, and Kenzie moaned, moaned so that Duncan fought the urge to come in that very moment, sucked his resolve in with a cold hand, because her moan was piteous and lit with low pain, deep pleasure, and overwhelming rapture for him.
“Fuck, I’m so empty now, fuck, I need you, Dunny,” her words were rushing out into her moan, her hands clutching at the edges of the vanity, and Duncan dropped the plug to the floor, unceremoniously, its use now at an end for their devotions in this moment, and he brushed her hair to the side, over her shoulder, loathe to muss it, grasping her neck (warm, shivering) in hot, insistent fingers, and he said “you’re mine, Kenzie, and I am infinitely blessed,” and he drove himself, adamant and inexorable, inside the tight hollow of her, and Kenzie cried out in a voice that sent a patterned madness into his mind, like the holy geometries of their divine dreams.
She was crying out again now, in a stream of sound, almost sobbing, as he drove in and out of her achingly sensitive ass, teased for him as it had been, and his cock was so hard with the pressure of the ring that he felt his eyes rolling back, his mouth open and his tongue pressing out against his lips, the entirety of the sensation of her simply too much to bear. “Fuck my little ass, baby, fuck it hard, fuck me good, baby, fuck me, harder, fucking harder, make me fucking scr-eee-am---” Kenzie voice bled out as he lowered himself into a studied concentration, pushing her into the vanity’s edge roughly, his thighs smacking into the bottom of her ass as he plunged himself into her, her tone lifting into an ecstatic abandon as he stretched her. Her asshole was swollen, pinched with redness, and his cock was rosy with strain and the veins of him stood out starkly as he watched himself slide into her, then out, then back, concentrating all his effort on fucking her, his hand dipping down between the lips of her cunt and his index finger sliding with conviction into the top of her clit, steadying there with a careful pressure, dipping down then holding, dipping back up, beginning a lazy motion that he knew was sending sharp shocks of arousal through her groin there, because now he could see it in her mind, see the shape of her orgasm like the golden sphere of her soul that he had seen before, the one he had run towards.
“Fucking you, Kenzie, is the greatest pleasure I’ve ever felt--or will ever feel,” he dipped down to her ear, murmuring clearly into it, leaning over her, staring into her eyes as he worked with slow, steady movements into her ass, against her clit. “There are no words for your beauty, no description for your loveliness, and nothing I can say will ever truly give justice to the depth of my love for you, only you, only you, Kenzie, forever--” and she was crying out again, unable to speak, her mouth dipped up in an ecstatic expression, her eyes in his, then rolling up, overwhelmed, and she was leaning back to receive his cock, leaning back from the edge of the vanity so he was buried in her, their bodies in tandem, rocking back and forth. Her dress had begun to slip from his hand and he gripped it tightly again, rebounding into her, reconcentrating his fingers on her clit and lifting her body up into his with steady hands, watching her little fingers clenching against his arm where she clutched at him as he held her, and he could see the way her thighs had begun to shudder, a sure sign of her orgasm rushing close by--your beautiful curvy thighs begin to shake, then the rest of your body, your beautiful body, I love it so, your beauty calms every fear in my heart, my Kenzie, I adore you, I worship you, I love you, I always will--
“Dunny--fucking FUCK--your cock is fucking heaven, you’re heaven--Dunnyyyyy--” she was crying out his name in a long wail, his mouth open achingly on her jaw, sucking, his tongue pressing into her wildly sweet skin there, his hands holding her little body flush to him as he continued to fuck her taut, diminutive asshole, not allowing himself to falter in his ministrations despite the intoxicating sound of her voice, stretching out into a keening lament that made his skin break out immediately into sweat, the sound of her almost otherworldly, like the voice of ecstasy from another world, and it was beautiful to him beyond all description, the sound of her this way. Eventually, Kenzie quieted to low, keening whimpers, and her arm lifted to the side of his hair and his ear as he continued to work at her ass and her clit with his fingers, down the angular stubble of his jaw, her middle and index fingers dipping into his mouth (suck baby, suck on me, suck on my neck and my fingers and fuck my little ass and come for me, come now, okay, it’s time for you to fucking come for me--), his teeth pressing gently into the pads of them as he sucked insistently at her, his own moans compounding now that she had gone still--he could feel her clit twinging under his touch from her comedown, and it stirred his release lower, lower, the voracious orgasm he’d been holding since yesterday now prickling again in earnest behind his hips, her little sounds coaxing him, the tightness of her unbearable around his painful hardness, her mouth still open and her head still thrown back, eyes closed at the memory of the starbursts under her eyelids, oh fuck, oh fucking god, god this is going to--this is--
Duncan’s hand came up to Kenzie’s throat as he felt the burning hot spurt of his come release into her ass, and he was groaning a wordless entreaty for her into her ear and her cheek, felt it continue on and on for what felt like an eternity, and for awhile he lost himself in her, lost himself entirely to their surroundings, and could only feel her, could only feel the flushed heat of her skin, the silky fall of her dress, could only smell the rose of her, could only hear her little moaning, aching sounds, could only imagine her, could only remember her, as if all other realities had ceased and they were drifting in darkness. He was gasping into her, clutching her, feeling as though he were on the verge of sobbing, on the edge of bursting into tears so earnest and true that perhaps, if he did, they would never cease, only continue on until he was utterly empty of tears.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby, you’re okay, fuck, baby, oh my fucking god,” Kenzie was murmuring as he brought her back down to earth, still holding her against him, his cock sliding out of her--he saw there was a little blood along the topside of his length, and he moaned into her, still holding her dress gathered in his hand, examining her backside, wincing in concern--Kenzie’s ass was deeply pink, her asshole red with worry. “Fuck, baby, are you okay? Fuck, did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine, it’s okay, baby,” Kenzie was leaning over the vanity, gripping a tissue, bending her arm back to press it against her ass--she brought the tissue around to gaze at it, frowning a little at the blood. “It’s okay, it’s just a little, I think it’s just chafing, god, you were so fucking hard--” with this Kenzie groaned a little, a laugh intercepting it, and she wiggled her ass at him, grinning in post-orgasmic glee. “Fuck, Duncan, I loved that. You felt so fucking good, baby, I love your thick cock fucking my ass so hard, god, being so bossy with me, I feel so fucking good now--”
Duncan gripped at her hips, his mouth coming down her cheek, lips open, and closed his eyes against her, letting his eyelashes brush on her skin--Kenzie sighed, her knees dipping her down.
“God, Kenzie, I’d been holding that orgasm for what felt like a year, fuck, you made me come so hard, angel.” He stepped back from her, gently letting go of her dress, letting it fall down her backside, covering the rawness he’d left there, thinking of his come now deep inside her--he glanced to the floor where he’d discarded the plug, then leaned and picked it up, gripping the jeweled end in his hand. Kenzie turned to him, raising her eyebrows, all residue of her tears now gone. Her face was glowing, radiant--it seemed to be cast in a golden sheen, though he could see hints of tiredness around her eyes.
“Come here, baby,” she whispered, and grasped his empty hand, leading him to the sink, turning on the faucet and running it until it was hot, lathering soap on her hands from a dispenser there, then gently pulling him closer to the edge, dipping her hands along his length. Duncan shivered, moaned with the terrible sensitivity prickling there now as she washed him gently, the ring still pushed at the base of him, his cock still partially stiff with its pressure. Duncan brought his hands down to brush against hers in the stream, rinsing her plug under the hot water, and she was lathering soap along its bulbous head too, cleaning it carefully--he turned his head to gaze at her as he touched her, as her fingers fell against his, and the loveliness of her smile as she glanced at him made him want to weep again. Duncan pulled his hands away, reluctantly, grasped a mauve-colored hand towel hanging nearby, drying his hands--Kenzie shut the water off and he passed the towel to her gently, dipping it around her plug and her hands, then she pressed the plug into his palm and took the towel, dipping her head down, bringing her fingers against the base of his cock.
“I’m going to take the ring off now, baby, okay?”
“Okay, baby.” He stood very still, lost in the golden shift of her gaze. My Persephone. Queen of roses. Too beautiful for words. Kenzie’s little fingers gripped the silicone carefully, firmly--then she pulled gently at it, and Duncan bit his lip, staving off his cry at the intensity of her touch as she slid the ring off him, finally releasing his cock from the immense pressure of it. He breathed out carefully through his mouth, then waited, hopefully, for Kenzie to do what he was thinking towards her--she smiled at him, straightening, then grasped his softening cock, dipping it back into his tight briefs, then zipping and buttoning his pants, tucking his collared shirt carefully back in place.
“There, my Prince,” she whispered. “Like nothing ever happened. None of them will ever know. Our secret to keep. Just for us.”
The golden light was all around her, the shimmer of her dress seeming to draw it in; her tawny-gold hair fell around her cheeks, barely a residue of sweat there to show the ecstasy he knew she had felt; for he’d been inside her, inside her thoughts, had felt the immensity of her release, as he knew he could now. Duncan’s fingers ran over the protruding head of the plug, carefully, hesitating, still longing for her in ways he couldn’t name.
“Kenzie, can I--can I put this back inside you, baby? I want to--I want to keep my come inside you for awhile. I want to keep our secret for awhile…” He could feel his cheeks flushing, feel the neediness in his voice, but she was smiling again, her cheeks flushing too, an obvious delight in her eyes now.
“That’s fucking sexy, baby. Yes, Prince Duncan,” and she was stepping flush against him, her mouth opening towards his face, his body bursting into deep, coursing flames from the look in her eyes. “Put it back inside me.”
Kenzie turned to look into the little mirror over the sink, gripping the edge of it, gazing at him expectantly. Do it, and let’s go back to this party. I’ll have your come held there inside me the whole time. You fucked me hard and we both came so hard and our ecstasy will bleed into the night, love--I’m yours, Duncan, my body is yours as my soul is. Just a little longer, then we can sleep in each other’s arms all night, and when the day comes, we’ll go off to the woods together to be alone and learn more of each other’s secrets. We’ll fuck under the stars, under the trees, in the long grass, among the flowers.
Duncan lowered his arm, gripping at the train and the flowing skirt of her gown, gathering them once more in his fingers, pressing them together in his fist, exposing her backside again--he whimpered at the redness still there, but there was no more blood. It must have just been chafing, like you said, baby, let me know if this hurts you and I’ll stop. Kenzie shook her head, urging him on. I’m fine, baby, put it inside me where it belongs. Duncan could see a vague residue around the pucker of her asshole, the cloudy white of his come dripping out of her--with a twinge of need he thought no, that stays inside her, I want it inside her, and he brought the plug up to the dampness gathering there, holding the gathers of her dress steady in his grip, and then he pushed it back inside her--Kenzie gasped a little, gripping the sink, but was nodding--”yes, Dunny, yes,” and then it was back inside her, the jewel winking up at him, and he let go of her skirts, leaned down to where he panties had been discarded and kneeled to her.
Kenzie turned to him, bringing her hands down to his shoulders, and he pushed the skirts aside, exposing her golden platform heels--Kenzie held onto him as she stepped into her panties and Duncan pulled them up her slender calves and curvy, feminine thighs under the dress, pressing his chin into her stomach as he fixed the waistband on her hips. There. All done. He lingered there for a moment, staring up at her--her hands came to his cheek, fingers drifting at his stubble, and into his hair, her touch infinitely gentle, and her smile was serene, utterly contented. In its cocoon he knew he was loved--loved with such intensely earnest, complete love that he felt tears seeping back into the corners of his eyes.
“I’m ready to go back, baby,” Kenzie said, and he stood, nodding, dipping his fingers at his eyes, wiping the threat of tears away. She leaned up to kiss him; he brought his face down to her, his hand twining around her fingers, imagining the golden-blue thread he’d seen as he ran to where he saw the golden sphere that was her, his lips shivering against her. “Kenzie, I love you,” he whispered. Kenzie didn’t speak, and she didn’t need to--he knew what she was saying in her mind, in the golden bursts around her heart, the radiance in her eyes, the roses in her hair. And I love you. Now, long ago, and forever.
Kenzie went to the sink where they’d left his silicone ring, grasping it and placing it inside her golden clutch, snapping the opening closed. As they walked out of the bathroom, Duncan glanced back at it, at its glow of light now diminished by her absence--just a regular bathroom now, he thought. The golden glow was all her. Everything is her. He flipped the light switch, bathing the powder room in darkness, and Kenzie was the one who pulled him back to the Gala, through the room that was once his playroom, the gold and diamond of the bracelets at their wrists glinting, their hands tightly clasped in the shadows.
------
A few minutes later Kenzie was ordering a glass of chardonnay from the bartender near the tables Duncan had glimpsed earlier, drinking it in one fell swoop that made Duncan laugh, and immediately asking for another. The bartender, a tall, handsome man with henna-colored skin in a saffron-yellow Oxford shirt and a silk gold tie, had raised his eyebrows at her and poured her another, this one full to the brim.
“Duckenzie forever,” he said, and pushed it toward her, his smile shy. Duncan and Kenzie had looked at each other in disbelief, both laughing a little. “Seriously, though, you two are like--you are glowing,” the bartender continued. “Thanks for coming over here. I can’t drink tonight, but now I feel drunk. Love your Instagrams.” Duncan had ordered an old-fashioned (like that first night, Kenzie had thought, and Kenzie had smiled at him), and Kenzie had thanked the man sweetly, her cheeks flushed with the wine now. Duncan slipped a $100 bill into his tip jar. God, I feel so good now, he thought. Time to spread that around. They’d run into Erik and Momby, sitting together on a low couch in a side-parlor, laughing with each other in uproarious delight, Momby telling him a story about a time she’d fallen into a pool with a full tray of tropical cocktails during a brief waitressing stint in the Bahamas in her early 20’s. Madeline had gripped Kenzie’s hand, looking into her face as Kenzie settled down onto the armrest beside her mother--when she saw the serene happiness there, she nodded and let go. Whatever had happened before, all was right now. Madeline had looked into Duncan’s eyes, and he’d nodded to her, smiling.
“That smile,” Momby had tsked, and Erik dipped his chin into a perfectly-manicured hand, looking on at all of them, grinning, his eyes now hazy with drunkenness. “With that smile you could stab me in the heart and I’d thank you.”
Kenzie’s gaze had dipped above them, her eyes intent on yet another mural printed for the Gala along the white wall behind them. ”I’ve never seen this one before,” Kenzie murmured, reaching for Duncan’s hand, pulling him close. My pretty baby. My Kenzie. “What’s it called?” The painting depicted on the laser-printed mural was a golden-haired maiden, completely naked, her back turned down, the angle from heaven above, riding on a midnight-blue stallion with huge wings--below them were scattered clouds of night and a landscape spread with some ancient monument. “It’s so lovely.”
“It’s called Dream Idyll,” Duncan murmured to her, his eyes on her face. He could feel Madeline and Erik watching them. “It’s by Edward Robert Hughes. It looks like you.” Kenzie snorted at him. “Yep, there’s me, in my birthday suit. I do wish I had a flying horse, though.”
“You’ll have horses soon enough, Princess Kenzie.”
“Oh, she will, will she?” Madeline smiled at him, intrigued.
Duncan and Kenzie looked at each other. Momby knows about you taking over the company, but I don���t think Erik knows, does he? Kenzie thought to him. Duncan shook his head.
“It’s a secret, is it?” Erik cooed, taking a sip of the vodka tonic in his hand.
“For now, yeah, I think so,” Duncan replied. “We’re still figuring it out.”
“I’m sure you two have lots of secrets you haven’t told anyone,” Erik went on, batting his long rhinestoned eyelashes. “I’m sure you have delicious, delightful secrets. Just look at you. A darkly handsome prince and a radiant golden princess. Duncan, you’ve opened like a flower now that you have this angel in your life. I just adore you two. You’re like two stars that fell out of the sky. I’d claw someone’s eyes out to hear what it’s like in the bedroom.”
Duncan rolled his eyes at the last bit, but saw Kenzie smile into her hand. Madeline was laughing into her glass of red wine, her snort causing a film of bubbles on its surface. Like mother, like daughter.
“Baby, let’s get some air,” he murmured down into Kenzie’s ear, and she let him help her up, left her train to fan out behind her. He waved a little to Madeline and Erik. “We’ll see you later on, maybe?”
“I think I’m getting all partied out,” Madeline replied. “I’m a crusty old witch and I’ve successfully managed to avoid Annette tonight. I’d like to keep it that way. Duncan, can I enlist your help to get that wonderful man to drive me home?”
“Of course, Madeline,” Duncan pulled his phone out of his pocket as Kenzie’s hand clutched around the crook of his arm, her head resting against the velvet arm of his blazer. He sent a text out to Samuel; Samuel, as usual, replied almost immediately. The best. “He says he’ll be waiting on the curb in two minutes, Ms. Stone.”
Madeline crowed, delighted, drinking off the rest of her wine. “Erik, darling, wanna come kick it at my house like two broken down old hags?”
“Speak for yourself, honey,” Erik replied, but he was smiling. “However--I’d love to. Annette’s usual gang of social frou-frous, alas, leaves me dry as a bone these days. Let’s break out the tequila and talk about old flings all night. My darling angelic moon babies in love--adieu.” Erik extended a hand towards Duncan and Kenzie, and Kenzie’s radiant smile to him lit a fire under Duncan’s heart. Your crown of flowers on our wedding day, a crown for the goddess of spring, he thought, his mind drifting. I wonder what your dress will look like. It doesn’t matter what you wear, though. You always look like a fucking angel. Kenzie was turning back to kiss her mother’s cheek--Duncan went to Madeline too, and kissed the opposite one. Madeline laughed, pursing her lips and looking heavenward.
“I do believe, my dear Madeline, that it doesn’t get much better than that,” Erik raised his drink to them with finality.
“Did you know Duncan wants to commission a painting of us, Momby,” Kenzie was murmuring down her to her mother, her face bathed in the low mood lights of the room, the blue cast of the mural above her reflecting on her gold-rose hair as Duncan watched her. “How romantic is that?”
“My dearest Mackenzie,” her mother clasped her hand, stared at her over the rim of her squarish black-rimmed glasses. “You suddenly find yourself immersed in a fairy tale, and my advice to you is, enjoy every moment of it. Bask in it. Drink it down like it’s wine.”
“Kenzie and I going away for a few days, Madeline,” Duncan said, eyeing Madeline, watching for disapproval warily. “We have a cabin by a lake in rural Maryland--we’re trying to keep the trip discreet. We’ll have our phones, but...we’d like to go off the grid for a few days, so we won’t be checking them regularly. I need to get away from Annette for a few days--”
“We both do,” Kenzie murmured. “Momby, we need to get away from...everything.”
“I understand, Kenzie Lou.” Madeline’s face was serious, but calm, sobering up for them. “You don’t need to explain. Just call me when you get back, okay? We can invite Claire and make tacos and margaritas. You too, baby,” Madeline said, turning to Erik, who fluttered his eyelashes at her.
“Thank you, Madeline.” Duncan’s heart felt tight again, words insufficient for his gratitude.
“Duncan. Don’t forget what I said to you last night, sweetpea. I love you very much, and your worth is not in your name, nor with your wealth, but what you do with it. I’ll see you soon.” Madeline’s hand came up against his cheek, and Duncan’s heart clenched. Kenzie, you were blessed with the most wonderful of mothers. It’s no wonder you are so divine. Demeter, who went to Zeus himself to have her daughter Persephone back--who made the earth barren with her loss. A mother who would do anything for her daughter--like Madeline Stone. What a fucking woman.
Kenzie kissed her mother’s cheek again, whispered “I love you to the moon and back, Momby,” and rose with Duncan, blowing kisses behind her to both Madeline and Erik. Divine, Duncan thought, her hand in the crook of his arm. Divine kisses, floating across the room like shooting stars.
------
Ten minutes later they were on the south side of the house, on the back-facing patio balcony of Annette Shepherd’s Colonial mansion. There were serving people dressed as various Pre-Raphaelite muses passing around hors d'oeuvres here (the Lady of Shalott walked up to them in long white robes and an auburn wig, holding a tray of mushroom tartlets which she held out to them--she blushed, clearly recognizing them, and Duncan thanked her, taking two and handing one to Kenzie, who ate it in one bite as she smiled at the woman--who then drifted away from them with some reluctance), and there were scores of guests in the balmy night air, milling around with drinks, winding down from the speeches for the Foundation--we were fucking in the bathroom during that, Duncan thought, relieved. I’m sure Annette tried to find me, and thankfully, she failed.
Neither Annette nor Bill were anywhere to be seen here, either. Or Marissa Montague. Or Gretchen Friedrichs. It’s like the night calmed for us, like the moon (still hovering above them, a white peach of delectable enchantment) ushered them all away--like it’s looking after us, my Kenzie and me. Down a set of marble steps was a decorative walking garden with stone pathways surrounded by creeping thyme and irish moss, with a four-tier fountain in the center, in tandem with Annette’s modern sensibilities. Some of the guests (most of which Duncan recognized--a veritable who’s-who of politicians and notables from every artistic field he could think of) seemed to notice them, but somehow no one approached them--Duncan doubted it was shyness. It seemed to be something else, almost like a force-field around them, protecting them from too much attention. Whatever. I’ll take it. As long as people leave us alone.
Along the sides of the French doors that had led them outside were two more huge murals, covering the windows on this side of the mansion, each one with the Shepherd Unlimited logo along the top and the same Gala text as the banners at the entrance--on one side was Robert-Hughes’ wistful Day, a circle of flowers in her red hair, and on the other, his more serene Night, sometimes called Star of Heaven--her hair full of starbursts, like flares of blue and white flame. Kenzie had turned, taking little sips of chardonnay, to gaze up at them, and he saw the adoring admiration in her eyes. He stared at her, drifting a hand against the wall, leaning there, caught up in her--golden princess from the stars. Protecting me, healing me, healing others. Who knows what else she can do. I feel acutely that we’re just beginning to find out what she’s capable of...and what I’m capable of, for that matter. He thought of the plug still inside her, holding his release there, and shivered. Mine. My golden angel.
Eventually, Kenzie noticed him staring.
“Don’t tell me, they look like me,” she rolled her eyes at him, making a face, and he laughed a little, sipping his bourbon. Bourbon will always remind me of the first night--though I’ll never forget it anyway. He leaned back on the Day mural, his head beginning to feel hazy--he’d barely had any of the bourbon, but he felt weak with his post-orgasm, with the stresses of this damn Gala--Marissa, Gretchen, Kenzie’s disappearance, the strangeness of what had happened to him near the water table. And with the stresses of yesterday--the shaking certainty in me that I was nothing and no one anymore. I don’t feel that way now; but the fear was enough to exhaust my soul. It was enough to make me long to escape with her.
He hesitated--he could tell Kenzie knew he was thinking, and she regarded him, patiently. “It looks like she’s whispering in your ear,” she said, twining a golden hair around her finger, the Cartier bracelet’s diamonds glittering on her wrist, the smooth incline of her leg dipping beautifully from the slit in the dress, and then Kenzie was opening her clutch and pulling her phone out, snapping a photo of him. He smiled at her, unbothered, pressing affection out towards her. She walked casually to the other wall where Star of Heaven was spread, smiling down at her phone, typing a caption on the photo, posting it. He turned toward her as the two men he’d seen smoking earlier came through the French doors--oddly, they ignored Duncan and Kenzie, as if they didn’t see them. Kenzie didn’t seem to notice, but looked up a moment later from her phone at him. Duncan moved past the doors to her, leaving his bourbon glass on a nearby cart, hands coming down to her waist, pressing her back into the mural of the serene woman with a crown of stars.
“I wish I could give you a crown of stars like that,” Duncan whispered, his eyes drifting up the mural, then back down into hers. The moon was right above them now--it stared down on him, quietly listening to them, watching them, watching over us. Moon children in love. Kenzie held her wine glass up to her lips, her eyes staring back at him mischievously over the rim, and he stepped back, lifting his own phone to steal a picture of her, her eyes drifting to the side to look at the huge face beside her. Star of heaven @kenzielouwho. He saw the one she’d posted of him come up right after it on his feed--Night breezes seem to whisper I love you @duncanshepherd.
“Kenzie,” he said, tucking his phone away. “Something happened when I went to get you the water. Something...strange. Really strange.”
Kenzie looked at him then with contemplation, and he knew deeply that she had something of her own to tell him--something she hadn’t told him before. She set her wine glass at her feet as he continued.
“I ran into Gretchen Friedrichs, and she cornered me, was trying to blackmail me--the usual with her--and I knew I needed to get to the water, and she was blocking it. I was crazy with it for a minute, with frustration, then suddenly, I was there, I was at the water table. But I hadn’t moved. I had...I dunno. I teleported to the fucking water table. Somehow. I moved--through--I don’t know. Time. Space. I moved without moving.”
“Dunny,” Kenzie said, and her voice was very small, her hands reaching up to the lapels of his jacket, pulling him close. “Yesterday, I--I could feel your sadness and your pain. I mean, I don’t mean I suspected it--I mean I felt it. I felt the depth of it. It pressed down onto me and I felt what you were feeling. It was like I was inside you. It was when I was still at work, and the feeling continued all the way home; I think it made me fall asleep, it was so strong, so powerful, like a wave, overwhelming me. I knew it was you, and I knew you were heartbroken. I felt what you were feeling from miles away. I don’t know how. But I did. And what I did tonight--”
“Kenzie, what’s happening to us? What are we?” Duncan stared down into her eyes and saw the memory of those whirling golden galaxies from his dream of her (as an angel--with imperceptible wings) and saw her own hazel eyes too, and was dizzy with the vision of both. “What do the dreams mean? When you disappeared, I was so afraid--fuck, I forgot to even try to call you or text you, I was freaking out so much, wondering where you’d gone--then I concentrated and I felt you. You were like a ball of light inside my mind. I followed the feeling of you to where you were, I imagined there was a thread between us, made of gold--and then I found you. My feet led me to the powder room, and there you were. Like you’d been calling for me and I heard your voice.”
“I--I don’t know--it’s something about us finding each other, that’s what I think, that’s what I keep coming back to,” and Kenzie’s fingers were brushing over his intricate gold collar, down his velvet arms, finding his hands, holding them against the bare skin above her structured bodice. “I think when we met it was like...a door flew open. An invisible door, one that had been shut, and when it opened, so many other things poured into us, not just each other, not just this incredible love--” and Duncan stopped her mouth with his, his need to kiss her too great, her mouth too beautiful in the moonlight, her hair too soft and rose-laden to not have his hands in it anymore, the gold of her too ethereal, and she gasped into his kiss, and he clutched her, leaning down to her exquisite, moon-like face, the dark mulberry stain of her lips all but kissed away by his ardency tonight, leaving them bruised and pink, and he crushed himself into them again, his body rocking against hers with deep fatigue and a desire to sleep with her, sleep forever under a full, benevolent moon.
“Let’s go,” he whispered between their kisses, his hands urging her against him. “Let’s go home. I’m tired, baby. I want you alone. None of this matters. Only you.” Kenzie was nodding into him, her face flooding with visible relief, and Duncan was remembering her run in with his uncle tonight--I’ve always suspected that Bill hates me, so I’m not surprised he hates anyone I care about, too. I think deep down Bill has always been suspicious that we don’t share the same goals for Shepherd Unlimited--that one day, I’d take it from him and make it into what he is fearful of. Something GOOD. Well, Bill, you’re right. Your fears were all founded. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. And I found a goddess to help me.
Duncan was gripping Kenzie’s hand and pulling her back through the mansion--Samuel had likely already left with Madeline and Erik, but he was sober enough anyway, and he knew what to do. Annette had a garage under the mansion with twenty cars--and they were going to take one of them home tonight, then to Deep Creek Lake tomorrow. No one would be coming with them, not Samuel, not Harris, no one. The prospect sent a burst of excitement through him, pushing his fatigue away; alone with you in the beauty of nature. And I’ve been away from it for so long. You’re going to love the cabin so much, baby. Knowing you now, I feel like it was created just for you. You’ll see what I mean. It’s like its own little world.
Duncan was clutching Kenzie’s train carefully in one hand and her fingers in the other, leading her down the hall with a pointed, swift stride, around the array of important guests who seemed to be noticing them again, judging from the long stares. Duckenzie Duckenzie Duckenzie the son of Annette Shepherd with the daughter of Madeline Stone who would ever think such a thing how absurd look how beautiful they are wow look at them look look look. Fuck, he thought, now I can hear everyone else’s thoughts, too? Or maybe just right now? Or maybe I’m imagining it? God, it’s all too much. Right now we just need to get away from all of this.
He was about to turn down a side-hall that was mostly deserted towards the center of the mansion, the one he knew led to Annette’s impressive private library, and from there a secret passage behind one of the bookcases that led to the basement garage, but he stopped, his heart slamming up against his ribs. Annette and Bill were at the end of it, conversing with Senator Howell. Fuck. No.
He glanced with alarm at Kenzie, who was balking and stepping back, her eyes slitted at Bill, who does indeed look very ill, Duncan noted, seeing his uncle’s deeply gray pallor, the thin sheen of sweat on his brow. Bill looks like he’s about to fall into his grave, in fact. Annette seemed to have noticed as well, because she was staring with deep concern at her brother, and hadn’t noticed them yet. Mom, you look so beautiful tonight, Duncan noted, his heart now in his mouth. My mother, and yet, not my mother. The soft fall of her hair in its gathers around the nape of her neck, the pearls at her throat, the glowing, pollen-patterned yellow satin dress she wore. Duncan noted the deep sadness that lingered on her face tonight--her brother is dying, and her son won’t talk to her. But mom, it’s not as simple as that, and you know it. You had to know this day would come. You had to know eventually I’d find out. How could you keep it from me for so long? It would have been easier if you’d told me long ago. But perhaps you really couldn’t bear to admit it after a certain point. Maybe it really was love that convinced you to keep it secret--or maybe it was just your own need to be loved.
And he knew when they got back from the woods, when they came home from the secluded place where they’d go to find out each other’s secrets--because he knew that would happen while they were away, I feel it, in my heart, in my soul, I know we are going to discover something about ourselves there, I know it, baby, I know it absolutely, and he knew Kenzie heard his thought--that he’d speak with Annette and Bill, and it would be wrenching for him, but that it would happen and it must happen, and only then would the future move into the present and the wheel continue to turn them to their Fate.
But not yet. Come on baby, this way. I know another way. And he and Kenzie slipped away from the line of sight of Annette and Bill Shepherd. Duncan was struck with a realization a few seconds later; he knew that Annette had looked down the hall the moment they slipped away, had thought maybe she’d seen a corner of Kenzie’s golden gown from the corner of her eye, but that when she’d turned her head, no one had been there. And Annette’s heart was full of sorrow--full of her own regret, the sting of her own faults and her mistakes. Like Kenzie feeling my sadness last night, over miles--I think I can feel how my mother feels right now. Just a little. Enough to know that her sorrow is genuine, and her remorse absolute. Oh, Mom.
They’d turned down another hall--this one seemed to be a service hall, several of the serving people in their Pre-Raphaelite costumes moving along it back and forth, some with empty trays, some with trays fresh hors d'oeuvres moving back out to the main hall. Duncan pulled Kenzie along it--several of the service people gave them puzzled looks, but said nothing; they obviously recognized him (or us: Duckenzie Duckenzie Duckenzie). Duncan Shepherd can do what he likes in his mother’s house, I guess, Duncan heard the drifting thought from a tall, handsome man with a laurel wreath in his hair and a red-russet robe over his shoulder, akin to Narcissus in Waterhouse’s painting. Duncan opened a side-door, and this led to a quiet room that seemed to be a service lounge, currently only occupied by a tired-looking woman in a white veil and a cobalt-blue period dress. She glanced up, disinterested at first, then shock fell over her face as she saw them moving through the room.
“Oh my god,” she whispered, and Duncan saw Kenzie looking at the woman with a shy smile. “Duncan Shepherd and Mackenzie Stone, oh my goooooood. Wow, wow, wow.” She sat up and her fists came up to her chin, clutching at her face as though to hold her head up. “You’re even more beautiful in person than I imagined.”
“We have to go, but thank you, sweetness,” Kenzie was whispering to her, and blew her a kiss as Duncan opened a door at the other end of the room, urging her through it gently. The girl blushed deeply, her mouth falling open, her eyes glowing at them.
Then the door swung shut behind them and they were in Annette’s library. Blessedly, deserted. The library was tucked near the center of the mansion’s floor plan, therefore often not discovered by those who weren’t familiar with its vast layout--but Duncan had spent most of his childhood after he’d learned to read in this room, and knew it like the back of his hand. The mansion would be his someday, and Duncan knew he’d keep it for one reason and one reason alone--this room. The fixtures were all brass, the six embossed electric chandeliers with eight flower-shaped bulbs apiece flaring into low light as he flipped the panel of switches by the door, and the wood paneling was cherry-russet oak, deeply pleasant to look at, warm and comforting. There was a huge fireplace along one wall, the kind of fireplace Duncan always imagined a king would have in a great-hall, and books stretched along every wall--so many books that he knew, as he’d known as a child, gratefully, that he’d never get a chance to read them all. Too many, and so, I’ll always have a new one to discover. Kenzie was gasping quietly at his side.
“Ohhh, Dunny. This is so fucking beautiful.” There was a second floor above them, too, with gilded metal railings, and the wood floors had dark-colored Persian rugs to muffle the sound of footsteps--to preserve the ever-hallowed quiet of a library. Duncan eyed the corner where the impressive Bosendorfer Imperial sat--he knew pressing the black C sharp key would unlock the door behind the bookcase there, but he hesitated, then went to a bookcase towards the back of the shelf lining the wall to his right, pulling Kenzie gently with him.
“Come here, baby, I wanna show you something.”
He went to a familiar corner (so familiar, with its rows and rows of mythology books), eyes drifting along the shelves--then they fell on what he was looking for. Duncan pulled the book down, its hardback edges fraying from use, its familiar golden cover immediately conjuring pleasant memories of him reading alone for hours, gazing raptly at the illustrations, hiding from the world. D’aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths. On its cover was Helios, the sun, driving his white stallions in a chariot of fire. Duncan flipped the book open, Kenzie staring through the crook under his arm now where she’d slipped, sweetly and quietly, and it fell open to an illustration of Persephone in a golden field of flowers, racing into the arms of her mother.
“This one really does sort of look like me,” Kenzie whispered up to him, her eyes stirring the love up from the center of him. He pulled her closer, her little arms dipping around his waist.
“I used to look at this book for hours and hours,” he murmured, turning the pages, washes of familiarity falling over him, the pleasant memories of cold winter evenings and hot summer days, hiding here in the warmth and the cool shadows. “You can practically see the stains from my fingers on it. I didn’t have any friends, so books were my friends.”
“Let’s bring it with us,” Kenzie whispered. “I want to look at it when we’re at the cabin. I wanna touch it and feel you in its pages.”
Duncan nodded to her, closing it carefully, bringing his lips down to her temple. Kenzie turned her head and pulled him down to her, fingers running down his stubble, kissing him deeply for one long, beautiful, extended moment. I felt you, feeling Annette’s pain. Needing your own time to heal doesn’t make you a cruel person, baby. Everything in its time. He clutched her, his love for her overwhelming and all-consuming--then their kiss broke apart, and Duncan was struck again by his need to be home, alone with her.
“Over here, Kenz, watch this.” Duncan led her over to the impressive Bosendorfer, its matte black surface polished to a high sheen, pressing the black key in the center of the piano. He heard the telltale click of the bookcase directly ahead of them dipping out--it was appropriately covered in tomes of gothic literature (Poe, the Brontes, The Mysteries of Udolpho, Dracula). Kenzie gasped in delight, clutching the book against her golden breast, her mouth falling open.
“Oh my god, Duncan, that is the greatest thing ever.”
“It leads to the underground garage. We’re gonna take one of the cars home tonight. That way we can take it to the lake tomorrow, and we won’t have to worry about anyone or anything. We can stay as long as we want and come back when we feel ready.”
Kenzie pressed against him, the crown of her gold hair falling against his chin, her body sighing with approval. Duncan’s arms came around her, clutching her tight, drinking in the rosy smell of her, the soft flowery scent of her shampoo and the product Hannah had put in it--like a sunlit shoreline, he thought. At any other time in my life I’d be utterly devastated by yesterday, destroyed by it. But how can I be sad when you’re in my arms, Mackenzie Stone? To love you is to be at peace, no matter what rages around us. The world could be falling down and still I’d be calm in your embrace. Duncan felt acutely that a page was turning now--the page was this evening, this Gala, this night, its glittering superficiality, its chaos, its energy intent on disturbing their peace, their love, their happiness--but it hadn’t succeeded, it had only made him more determined than ever to cherish this wondrous love he’d found, a love that was kindling at every moment the desire in him to be better, be gentler for her, be more forgiving, more intent on loving her in every moment.
They broke apart, and Kenzie was flitting ahead of him (on her fast little feet in those golden heels), pulling carefully at the bookcase and peering behind it, glancing back at him with exuberant eyes, her mouth open in an expression of glee. There was an elevator there, waiting open with silent repose, and Duncan stepped through to it, pulling Kenzie along with him, hitting a round gold button with a plaque beside it that read GARAGE. The elevator’s doors slid shut, silently, a low-toned bell sounding, and then the elevator drifted down. When it opened a moment later, Duncan saw the familiar expanse of the private garage in quiet, clean monochrome--a security guard with a shiny black bald head sat sleepily on a swivel desk chair in a nearby booth surrounded in plexiglass, and his head came up with a jerk at the elevator’s bell.
“Mr. Shepherd, I didn’t know you needed a car tonight, they didn’t tell me--” he started, going to stand.
“It’s fine, Henry, right? Not a big deal. I let Miss Stone’s mother take my private car home, and I barely had anything to drink, so we thought we’d take ourselves home tonight.”
“Sure, Mr. Shepherd, sure. Yeah, Henry. Any particular kind of car?”
“The G-Class, I think. We’re going to use it for a few days...to do some sightseeing.”
“Oh, man, I love that car, drives like a dream. Sure thing, Mr. Shepherd.” Henry was turning to a rack of keys behind him, pulling down a smart key that was mounted on a wall-set charger there--he pushed open the sliding door of the plexiglass booth and held it out to them. Duncan took it, holding down a button on the front of the smart key, speaking into it. The pad read I’M LISTENING.
“Come to me.”
Duncan watched Kenzie’s rapt face with delight as a black SUV with sharp lines backed out of a nearby spot from a low row of other black cars of different makes and models, straightened itself, and drove towards them with slow, creeping speed.
“Holy shit,” Kenzie whispered. “The car can drive itself.”
“Well, y’all can drive it too,” Henry laughed at her, and Duncan noticed the guard’s eyes falling up and down Kenzie’s golden dress and her tawny hair, admiringly. An angel, I know.
“Thanks, Henry.”
“Sure thing, boss. Y’all have a good night. I’ll log that you’re using it.”
Duncan nodded, reaching down to Kenzie’s hand, carefully still holding her train. Keep the truth of my adoption from me for 30 years, Mom, I think I can borrow a car from you. Annette would find out later that he’d taken a car, he was sure, but he couldn’t be bothered to worry about her reaction. He led Kenzie to the passenger side of the SUV and helped in her in, lifting her up gently, tucking the train around her. Kenzie was gazing into the leather interior of the dashboard, her eyes gleaming, her fingers white around her golden clutch. Duncan ran around to the other side, anxious at the thought of Annette catching them before they had a chance to escape, but then, slipping into the driver’s seat, his heart calmed as he gripped the steering wheel and he pressed the smart key again, hearing the biturbo engine roar into life. No, he felt certain. We’ll get away without a hitch. The Fates have written it, I can feel it.
He reached across the middle of the seats, and Kenzie grasped his hand on her lap over the book she still held in safekeeping, her fingers wonderfully warm, the diamonds at her wrist glittering. The Gala’s over, she thought to him, deep relief in the golden drift of her mind. I can’t wait to share these next few days with you. I feel like the greatest secrets are about to revealed to us. And I’m not afraid, baby. With you, all my fear melts away. I can see my destiny inside your eyes.
As I see mine in yours, he thought to her, and put his foot on the gas, drifting his hand out of hers and onto the steering wheel, pulling the car around to the exit tunnel that spread out from the other end of the garage--as they climbed up to ground level, Kenzie switched on the Sirius XM radio, turning the knob to a channel called BPM. Upbeat electronic floated into the car as the neon lights of the tunnel fell over Kenzie’s cheeks in gold and blue--we get it almost every night, when that moon is big and bright, it’s a supernatural delight, everybody’s dancing in the moonlight…
Kenzie began to sway back and forth in her seat, moving to the music, shifting her shoulders and tossing her rosy hair with aching loveliness that made Duncan’s heart feel as though it would leap out of his body, his head suddenly hazy with her. Her lovely voice washed over him as she sang along, her eyes glittering on him, her thoughts in the shape of golden kisses against him as he drove into the night, the moon still high above them, huge and round like some otherworldly fruit in the clear, starry sky.
“Dancin’ in the moonlight, everybody’s feelin’ warm and bright, it’s such a fine and natural sight, everybody’s dancin’ in the moonlight…”
#duckenzie#body and soul#body and soul au#duncan shepherd au#millory#body and soul fic#body and soul fanfic#duncan x mackenzie#duncan x mallory#duncan shepherd#cody fern#billie lourd#cody x billie#cody x billie fic#cody x billie fanfiction#duncan shepherd fic#duncan shepherd fanfic#house of cards au#ahs apocalypse au#mallory au#michael x mallory au#michael x mallory#cody fern fanfiction#billie lourd fanfiction#duncan shepherd x mackenzie stone#mackenzie stone#billie lourd au#cody fern au#icouldrun#officialcodysfallenangels
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TIME DOESN’T HEAL
This is going to be a very long post and I would love to read it over and over again. It was painful and timeless at the same time. This conversation is hold between an Rolling stone and Pk.
In her first-ever in-depth interview, Michael Jackson's daughter discusses her father's pain and finding peace after addiction and heartache
Paris-Michael Katherine Jackson is staring at a famous corpse. "That's Marilyn Monroe," she whispers, facing a wall covered with gruesome autopsy photos. "And that's JFK. You can't even find these online." On a Thursday afternoon in late November, Paris is making her way through the Museum of Death, a cramped maze of formaldehyde-scented horrors on Hollywood Boulevard. It's not uncommon for visitors, confronted with decapitation photos, snuff films and serial-killer memorabilia, to faint, vomit or both. But Paris, not far removed from the emo and goth phases of her earlier teens, seems to find it all somehow soothing. This is her ninth visit. "It's awesome," she had said on the way over. "They have a real electric chair and a real head!"
Paris Jackson turned 18 last April, and moment by moment, can come across as much older or much younger, having lived a life that's veered between sheltered and agonizingly exposed. She is a pure child of the 21st century, with her mashed-up hippie-punk fashion sense (today she's wearing a tie-dye button-down, jeggings and Converse high-tops) and boundary-free musical tastes (she's decorated her sneakers with lyrics by Mötley Crüe and Arctic Monkeys; is obsessed with Alice Cooper – she calls him "bae" – and the singer-songwriter Butch Walker; loves Nirvana and Justin Bieber too). But she is, even more so, her father's child. "Basically, as a person, she is who my dad is," says her older brother, Prince Michael Jackson. "The only thing that's different would be her age and her gender." Paris is similar to Michael, he adds, "in all of her strengths, and almost all of her weaknesses as well. She's very passionate. She is very emotional to the point where she can let emotion cloud her judgment."
Paris has, with impressive speed, acquired more than 50 tattoos, sneaking in the first few while underage. Nine of them are devoted to Michael Jackson, who died when she was 11 years old, sending her, Prince and their youngest brother, Blanket, spiraling out of what had been – as they perceived it – a cloistered, near-idyllic little world. "They always say, 'Time heals,'" she says. "But it really doesn't. You just get used to it. I live life with the mentality of 'OK, I lost the only thing that has ever been important to me.' So going forward, anything bad that happens can't be nearly as bad as what happened before. So I can handle it." Michael still visits her in her dreams, she says: "I feel him with me all the time."
Michael, who saw himself as Peter Pan, liked to call his only daughter Tinker Bell. She has FAITH, TRUST AND PIXIE DUST inked near her clavicle. She has an image from the cover of Dangerous on her forearm, the Bad logo on her hand, and the words QUEEN OF MY HEART – in her dad's handwriting, from a letter he wrote her – on her inner left wrist. "He's brought me nothing but joy," she says. "So why not have constant reminders of joy?"
She fixes her huge blue-green eyes on each of the museum's attractions without flinching, until she comes to a section of taxidermied pets. "I don't really like this room," she says, wrinkling her nose. "I draw the line with animals. I can't do it. This breaks my heart." She recently rescued a hyperactive pit-bull-mix puppy, Koa, who has an uneasy coexistence with Kenya, a snuggly Labrador her dad brought home a decade ago.
Paris describes herself as "desensitized" to even the most graphic reminders of human mortality. In June 2013, drowning in depression and a drug addiction, she tried to kill herself at age 15, slashing her wrist and downing 20 Motrin pills. "It was just self-hatred," she says, "low self-esteem, thinking that I couldn't do anything right, not thinking I was worthy of living anymore." She had been self-harming, cutting herself, managing to conceal it from her family. Some of her tattoos now cover the scars, as well as what she says are track marks from drug use. Before that, she had already attempted suicide "multiple times," she says, with an incongruous laugh. "It was just once that it became public." The hospital had a "three-strike rule," she recalls, and, after that last attempt, insisted she attend a residential therapy program.
Home-schooled before her father's death, Paris had agreed to attend a private school starting in seventh grade. She didn't fit in – at all – and started hanging out with the only kids who accepted her, "a lot of older people doing a lot of crazy things," she says. "I was doing a lot of things that 13-, 14-, 15-year-olds shouldn't do. I tried to grow up too fast, and I wasn't really that nice of a person." She also faced cyberbullying, and still struggles with cruel online comments. "The whole freedom-of-speech thing is great," she says. "But I don't think that our Founding Fathers predicted social media when they created all of these amendments and stuff."
There was another trauma that she's never mentioned in public. When she was 14, a much older "complete stranger" sexually assaulted her, she says. "I don't wanna give too many details. But it was not a good experience at all, and it was really hard for me, and, at the time, I didn't tell anybody."
After her last suicide attempt, she spent sophomore year and half of junior year at a therapeutic school in Utah. "It was great for me," she says. "I'm a completely different person." Before, she says with a small smile, "I was crazy. I was actually crazy. I was going through a lot of, like, teen angst. And I was also dealing with my depression and my anxiety without any help." Her father, she says, also struggled with depression, and she was prescribed the same antidepressants he once took, though she's no longer on any psych meds.
Now sober and happier than she's ever been, with menthol cigarettes her main remaining vice, Paris moved out of her grandma Katherine's house shortly after her 18th birthday, heading to the old Jackson family estate. She spends nearly every minute of each day with her boyfriend, Michael Snoddy, a 26-year-old drummer – he plays with the percussion ensemble Street Drum Corps – and Virginia native whose dyed mohawk, tattoos and perpetually sagging pants don't obscure boy-band looks and a puppy-dog sweetness. "I never met anyone before who made me feel the way music makes me feel," says Paris. When they met, he had an ill-considered, now-covered Confederate flag tattoo that raised understandable doubts among the Jacksons. "But the more I actually got to know him," says Prince, "he's a really cool guy."
Paris took a quick stab at community college after graduating high school – a year early – in 2015, but wasn't feeling it. She is an heir to a mammoth fortune – the Michael Jackson Family Trust is likely worth more than $1 billion, with disbursements to the kids in stages. But she wants to earn her own money, and now that she's a legal adult, to embrace her other inheritance: celebrity.
And in the end, as the charismatic, beautiful daughter of one of the most famous men who ever lived, what choice did she have? She is, for now, a model, an actress, a work in progress. She can, when she feels like it, exhibit a regal poise that's almost intimidating, while remaining chill enough to become pals with her giant-goateed tattoo artist. She has impeccable manners – you might guess that she was raised well. She so charmed producer-director Lee Daniels in a recent meeting that he's begun talking to her manager about a role for her on his Fox show, Star . She plays a few instruments, writes and sings songs (she performs a couple for me on acoustic guitar, and they show promise, though they're more Laura Marling than MJ), but isn't sure if she'll ever pursue a recording contract.
Modeling, in particular, comes naturally, and she finds it therapeutic. "I've had self-esteem issues for a really, really long time," says Paris, who understands her dad's plastic-surgery choices after watching online trolls dissect her appearance since she was 12. "Plenty of people think I'm ugly, and plenty of people don't. But there's a moment when I'm modeling where I forget about my self-esteem issues and focus on what the photographer's telling me – and I feel pretty. And in that sense, it's selfish."
But mostly, she shares her father's heal-the-world impulses ("I'm really scared for the Great Barrier Reef," she says. "It's, like, dying. This whole planet is. Poor Earth, man"), and sees fame as a means to draw attention to favored causes. "I was born with this platform," she says. "Am I gonna waste it and hide away? Or am I going to make it bigger and use it for more important things?"
Her dad wouldn't have minded. "If you wanna be bigger than me, you can," he'd tell her. "If you don't want to be at all, you can. But I just want you to be happy."
At the moment, Paris lives in the private studio where her dad demoed "Beat It." The Tudor-style main house in the now-empty Jackson family compound in the LA neighborhood of Encino – purchased by Joe Jackson in 1971 with some of the Jackson 5's first Motown royalties, and rebuilt by Michael in the Eighties – is under renovation. But the studio, built by Michael in a brick building across the courtyard, happens to be roughly the size of a decent Manhattan apartment, with its own kitchen and bathroom. Paris has turned it into a vibe-y, cozy dorm room.
Traces of her father are everywhere, most unmistakably in the artwork he commissioned. Outside the studio is a framed picture, done in a Disney-like style, of a cartoon castle on a hilltop with a caricatured Michael in the foreground, a small blond boy embracing him.It's captioned "Of Children, Castles & Kings." Inside is a mural taking up an entire wall, with another cartoon Michael in the corner, holding a green book titled The Secret of Life and looking down from a window at blooming flowers – at the center of each bloom is a cartoon face of a red-cheeked little girl.
Above an adjacent garage is a mini-museum Michael created as a surprise gift for his family, with the walls and even ceilings covered with photos from their history. Michael used to rehearse dance moves in that room; now Paris' boyfriend has his drum kit set up there.
We head out to a nearby sushi restaurant, and Paris starts to describe life in Neverland. She spent her first seven years in her dad's 2,700-acre fantasy world, with its own amusement park, zoo and movie theater. ("Everything I never got to do as a kid," Michael called it.) During that time, she didn't know that her father's name was Michael, let alone have any grasp of his fame. "I just thought his name was Dad, Daddy," she says. "We didn't really know who he was. But he was our world. And we were his world." (Paris declared last year's Captain Fantastic , where Viggo Mortensen plays an eccentric dad who tries to create a utopian hideaway for his kids, her "favorite movie ever.")
We couldn't just go on the rides whenever we wanted to," she recalls, walking on a dark roadside near the Encino compound. She likes to stride along the lane divider, too close to the cars – it drives her boyfriend crazy, and I don't much like it either. "We actually had a pretty normal life. Like, we had school every single day, and we had to be good. And if we were good, every other weekend or so, we could choose whether we were gonna go to the movie theater or see the animals or whatever. But if you were on bad behavior, then you wouldn't get to go do all those things."
In his 2011 memoir, Michael's brother Jermaine called him "an example of what fatherhood should be. He instilled in them the love Mother gave us, and he provided the kind of emotional fathering that our father, through no fault of his own, could not. Michael was father and mother rolled into one."
Michael gave the kids the option of going to regular school. They declined. "When you're at home," says Paris, "your dad, who you love more than anything, will occasionally come in, in the middle of class, and it's like, 'Cool, no more class for the day. We're gonna go hang out with Dad.' We were like, 'We don't need friends. We've got you and Disney Channel!'" She was, she acknowledges, "a really weird kid."
Her dad taught her how to cook, soul food, mostly. "He was a kick-ass cook," she says. "His fried chicken is the best in the world. He taught me how to make sweet potato pie." Paris is baking four pies, plus gumbo, for grandma Katherine's Thanksgiving – which actually takes place the day before the holiday, in deference to Katherine's Jehovah's Witness beliefs.
Michael schooled Paris on every conceivable genre of music. "My dad worked with Van Halen, so I got into Van Halen," she says."He worked with Slash, so I got into Guns N' Roses. He introduced me to Tchaikovsky and Debussy, Earth, Wind and Fire, the Temptations, Tupac, Run-DMC."
"His number-one focus for us," says Paris, "besides loving us, was education. And he wasn't like, 'Oh, yeah, mighty Columbus came to this land!' He was like, 'No. He fucking slaughtered the natives.'" Would he really phrase it that way? "He did have kind of a potty mouth. He cussed like a sailor." But he was also "very shy."
Paris and Prince are quite aware of public doubts about their parentage (the youngest brother, Blanket, with his darker skin, is the subject of less speculation). Paris' mom is Debbie Rowe, a nurse Michael met while she was working for his dermatologist, the late Arnold Klein. They had what sounds like an unconventional three-year marriage, during which, Rowe once testified, they never shared a home. Michael said that Rowe wanted to have his children "as a present" to him. (Rowe said that Paris got her name from the location of her conception.) Klein, her employer, was one of several men – including the actor Mark Lester, who played the title role in the 1968 movie Oliver! – who suggested that they could be Paris' actual biological father.
Over popcorn shrimp and a Clean Mean Salmon Roll, Paris agrees to address this issue for what she says will be the only time. She could opt for an easy, logical answer, could point out that it doesn't matter, that either way, Michael Jackson was her father. That's what her brother – who describes himself as "more objective" than Paris – seems to suggest. "Every time someone asks me that," Prince says, "I ask, 'What's the point? What difference does it make?' Specifically to someone who's not involved in my life. How does that affect your life? It doesn't change mine."
But Paris is certain that Michael Jackson was her biological dad. She believes it with a fervency that is both touching and, in the moment, utterly convincing. "He is my father," she says, making fierce eye contact. "He will always be my father. He never wasn't, and he never will not be. People that knew him really well say they see him in me, that it's almost scary.
"I consider myself black," she says, adding later that her dad "would look me in the eyes and he'd point his finger at me and he'd be like, 'You're black. Be proud of your roots.' And I'd be like, 'OK, he's my dad, why would he lie to me?' So I just believe what he told me. 'Cause, to my knowledge, he's never lied to me.
"Most people that don't know me call me white," Paris concedes. "I've got light skin and, especially since I've had my hair blond, I look like I was born in Finland or something." She points out that it's far from unheard of for mixed-race kids to look like her – accurately noting that her complexion and eye color are similar to the TV actor Wentworth Miller's, who has a black dad and a white mom.
At first, she had no relationship with Rowe. "When I was really, really young, my mom didn't exist," Paris recalls. Eventually, she realized "a man can't birth a child" – and when she was 10 or so, she asked Prince, "We gotta have a mom, right?" So she asked her dad. "And he's like, 'Yeah.' And I was like, 'What's her name?' And he's just like, 'Debbie.' And I was like, 'OK, well, I know the name.'" After her father's death, she started researching her mom online, and they got together when Paris was 13.
In the wake of her treatment in Utah, Paris decided to reach out again to Rowe. "She needed a mother figure," says Prince, who declines to comment on his own relationship, or lack thereof, with Rowe. (Paris' manager declined to make Rowe available for an interview, and Rowe did not respond to our request for comment.) "I've had a lot of mother figures," Paris counters, citing her grandmother and nannies, among others, "but by the time my mom came into my life, it wasn't a 'mommy' thing. It's more of an adult relationship." Paris sees herself in Rowe, who just completed a course of chemo in a fight against breast cancer: "We're both very stubborn."
Paris Jackson was around nine years old when she realized that much of the world didn't see her father the way she did. "My dad would cry to me at night," she says, sitting at the counter of a New York coffee shop in mid-December, cradling a tiny spoon in her hand. She starts to cry too. "Picture your parent crying to you about the world hating him for something he didn't do. And for me, he was the only thing that mattered. To see my entire world in pain, I started to hate the world because of what they were doing to him. I'm like, 'How can people be so mean?'" She pauses. "Sorry, I'm getting emotional."
Paris and Prince have no doubts that their father was innocent of the multiple child-molestation allegations against him, that the man they knew was the real Michael. Again, they are persuasive – if they could go door-to-door talking about it, they could sway the world."Nobody but my brothers and I experienced him reading A Light in the Attic to us at night before we went to bed," says Paris."Nobody experienced him being a father to them. And if they did, the entire perception of him would be completely and forever changed." I gently suggest that what Michael said to her on those nights was a lot to put on a nine-year-old. "He did not bullshit us," she replies. "You try to give kids the best childhood possible. But you also have to prepare them for the shitty world."
Michael's 2005 molestation trial ended in an acquittal, but it shattered his reputation and altered the course of his family's lives. He decided to leave Neverland for good. They spent the next four years traveling the world, spending long stretches of time in the Irish countryside, in Bahrain, in Las Vegas. Paris didn't mind – it was exciting, and home was where her dad was.
By 2009, Michael was preparing for an ambitious slate of comeback performances at London's O2 Arena. "He kind of hyped it up to us," recalls Paris. "He was like, 'Yeah, we're gonna live in London for a year.' We were super-excited – we already had a house out there we were gonna live in." But Paris remembers his "exhaustion" as rehearsals began. "I'd tell him, 'Let's take a nap,'" she says."Because he looked tired. We'd be in school, meaning downstairs in the living room, and we'd see dust falling from the ceiling and hear stomping sounds because he was rehearsing upstairs."
Paris has a lingering distaste for AEG Live, the promoters behind the planned This Is It tour – her family lost a wrongful-death suit against them, with the jury accepting AEG's argument that Michael was responsible for his own death. "AEG Live does not treat their performers right," she alleges. "They drain them dry and work them to death." (A rep for AEG declined comment.) She describes seeing Justin Bieber on a recent tour and being "scared" for him. "He was tired, going through the motions. I looked at my ticket, saw AEG Live, and I thought back to how my dad was exhausted all the time but couldn't sleep."
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To everyone who saw the Kalematsuba Call-Out Post
I’m not sure where to start, and my chest is getting kind of tight just trying to plan it in my head, so I’m just gonna try and start saying words and hope it comes together in the end.
Now, I’m absolutely not well known on this site, so you really have no reason to listen to me, but all I can do is speak from the heart and those of you who read this will have to decide whether what I say is worth anything.
Also, I’m not here to show you proof of anything. I can only share my opinions of and my experience with Kale and of these events in a way that I hope resonates with people who aren’t sure how to feel or who maybe jumped too quickly when faced with a call-out post.
I’ve been following Kalematsuba for two years, since he first made his current blog. Since then, this is the first I have ever been confronted with the idea that Kale has the past he does. And I know that’s the cue for a lot of you to claim he’s been keeping it a secret, but what I mean is, is that since I followed Kale I have seen nothing that alludes to him drawing anything other than wonderful, enjoyable, safe content and being anything other than a genuine, trustworthy human being.
I pride myself on having a pretty good bullshit detector and judge of character. When I meet someone, people who usually turn out to be negative or bad people I don’t want to associate with, I usually feel the vibes instantly. I listen to what people say, how they say things. I listen for those same vibes. Kale has never, EVER, not once, given me those vibes. I have never felt uncomfortable talking with him one on one, in a group setting, or as part of his audience.
Now, this not a post debating on whether or not what Kale did was wrong. I’m not here for that. Sexualizing children and child-like characters is bad. (I’m also not here to argue how ethical it is to age up child characters for the purpose of sexualizing them because that’s a whole other can of worms.)
Kale fully acknowledges what he did. When the news broke out in the personal discord channel he mods for his followers he admitted immediately to anyone who didn’t already know the situation:
“for the sake of transparency, I DID used to draw femboy art and "shota" like characters..but it was never about drawing "cp" it was so i could cope with being an effeminate boy..and then people sarted commissioning me for that type of work and it got way grosser than i ever intended it to”
For people who are construing was Kale said in a post he made earlier, then deleted, it wasn’t about sexualizing children in order to cope with dysphoria. That was not what he meant. He was referring to drawing effeminate boys, “effeminate boy” being how Kale felt at the time. It wasn’t about an attraction to the characters he drew. He saw himself in his art. These effeminate boys were representation of him to varying degrees. Unfortunately, what happened is this expressed itself using a very shota style and characters that were originally created to be underage.
That being said, Kale himself admits that it got out of hand. He is not denying he did something bad. He’s not denying the unhealthiness of the situation.
A follower who experienced this with Kale also added this about the people who would commission artwork from Kale:
[ALL SCREENCAPS ARE STAMPED WITH HST TIME ZONE]
“Kale was groomed into their incredibly posessive circle he tried to escape and they threatened to hurt him [and] eventually they finally lost interest”
Kale said nothing of this and did not ask to be defended. This was said unprompted. This is not meant to excuse Kale, but to perhaps give a little bit more insight into the context of the situation. He talks about it fully here.
All of the screencaps are from Kale’s discord, which was the first discord I ever joined and Kale always made it very clear that it was a safe place and had little tolerance for bullshit or anything that made any of his followers feel unsafe. Kale’s discord is now the standard I hold other discord channels to. They need to be safe, healthy, supportive places.
“I've been dealing with an actual dangerous procontact pedophile, but tumblr goes after the savior who rescued me”
“heres the thing of it. i have been a victim of pedophiles. these people are sick and horrible. YOU kale are no pedophile. i get a vibe from those sickos but you make me feel okay, your aura is safety. YOU ARE A WONDERFUL PERSON WITH A HUGE HEART whome i respect and care about, as i do everyone i know. i will support you 100% and thats that”
“Coming out of the woodwork here to just say: Nobody likes who they were 5 years ago, you know who I was 5 years ago? A 14 year old girl who shipped my male classmates for the sake of seeing "hot Yaoi" I made and laughed at rape jokes, I contributed to the "women suck" stereotypes put out by a bunch of teenage boys
Four years ago I pushed away friends I loved dearly for the sake of saving face with a "good artist" I admired, I regret it immensely, but my mindset from 4 years ago was different from what it is now. I used to judge who I become friends with based on their artistic ability alone
Three years ago I made a post that got really popular about the "jock/nerd soulmates" trope, I was the originater and romanticized an abusive trope bc I thought it was a good idea, I was 16, now I realize what a mistake that was and I've learned the error of my ways
TL;DR: Tumblr fucking sucks, it's a toxic place, and people will jump at any thread of drama they possibly can if it means they can unravel someone being successful in a way they can only dream of being
Kale, whether you were into shouta art or not doesn't matter, what matters is that you've moved past it, you're done with it, that's not the person you are now and you've grown as a person Your past mistakes do not define you and what you've accomplished, the things you've learned do.What you've made here, all the art, your own community, your freaking comic that a lot of people are onboard with, that's what's amazing and incredible and you should be proud of itYou are better than this, you are better than who you were 5 years ago, and if these holier-than-thou internet teenagers can't even try to understand that people can change, then they don't matter. They're not worth your time, your tears, or your work”
These screencaps are just from today. These don’t even begin to cover the time and time again that people have found support and comfort and a healthy environment in Kale’s discord from many a number of things not limited to: mental illness, abuse, traumatic experiences, suicide, and even gentler more mundane things like life and art advice.
--
Another point I would like to make about the validity of Kale’s character. In the call-out post posted today (August 21st, 2017), all OP does is link to their previously made call-out post (August 21st, 2015). There is no added material, no new art, nothing, to attest to any continued behavior or art that could reflect negatively on Kale. Which to me, implies that Kale has so soundly changed as a person and what he features in his art, that OP didn’t have anything else to say about him. Mind you, the original post is 2 years old and Kale shut down his pixiv and patreon years ago.
Kale himself said that:
“i literally havent drawn an ounce of that stuff in 4 years”
OP is not bringing anything new to the table. Nothing has changed from 2015 to 2017.
And if anyone receives hate mail from someone claiming to be a supporter of Kale, they are not from Kale’s inner circle and did not get is permission to do so. We within the personal discord agree that this situation will be met only with calmness and positive support for Kale. Anyone attacking Call-Out OP or their supporters is acting on their own or is a fake with the intention of further defaming Kale.
WHY I IMPLORE YOU TO KEEP SUPPORTING KALE
He is creating 1989nk to for trans and nb youth like him, who, from dysphoria and a lack of representation, may will seek out media or express themselves in ways that are unsafe or unhealthy.
He does not want what he experienced to happen to other trans and nb youth. That’s why 1989nk has such obvious trans colors on the front. He wants potential trans readers to see it, read it, and feel validated, safe, and represented.
I truly believe anyone who really looks into Kale’s current work, how he feels for 1989nk, the heart and soul he’s put into it, would see the kind of person he is.
Look, when I’m with my friends, I’ll be the first person to lean over and say something is problematic, makes me uncomfortable, or might be unhealthy. Anyone who knows me well can tell you that I never, ever stick my nose into tumblr discourse. So, if I’m sitting here addressing you all like this, it’s because I wholeheartedly believe in this person with everything I have.
I believe in Kale. I trust Kale. I wouldn’t follow him or support his work if I didn’t.
But then again, you have no reason to trust me. You may have to look and decide for yourself.
#kalematsuba#kalechippu#discourse#misinformation correction#sweethearts of 1989#putting this is that tag#because the original call out post was posted in it#okay to reblog#if this made you think or reconsider AT ALL#please reblog#especially if you reblogged the call out post#navi notes#suicide mention#abuse mention#long post
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Alison Newman - Heart Songs
Alison Newman is a singer and songwriter based in Mount Gambier, South Australia. She has developed a heartfelt, personal approach to her music. Her sound is deeply focused on storytelling, and her songs have a strong narrative component, which highlights the emotional link between the artist, and the songs she sings.
Inspired by performers as diverse as The Beatles, Eva Cassidy, and Keeley Connolley, Alison set out to channel a wide range of styles, ranging from folk and country to blues, and even shades of pop and rock here and there. The result is a sound that feels incredibly diverse. “Heart Songs” features 10 original songs. Each track brings something special to the table, exploring a different idea.
Recently, Alison took to the studio to record her brand new album, “Heart Songs.” This release combines Alison’s intimate style with a stellar production, giving her tracks a very down-to-earth tone. This release was produced by Tristen Bird, at Palomino Sound. It was mastered by Gavinda Doyle, an ARIA award-winning engineer.
The opening number makes me think of artists like Adele or Delta Goodrem, just to mention a few. “Strength In Numbers” is the quintessential folk-pop ballad, bringing so much emotion and passion to the table.
“Feeling Is Gone” is one of my favorite songs on this release. I love the 3/4 tempo, and the cool slap-back delay effects on Alison’s vocals, giving the singing a vintage tone. I love the blues-rocking vibes of this release, and the sultry tone of Alison’s voice.
The 9th song on this release, “Kasper,” follows a completely different approach. This is a very soft-spoken piano tune, which makes me think of artists like The Swell Season. There is a bittersweet atmosphere here, with a nostalgic twist. The lyrics are whisper-quiet during the verses, in tune with the delicate piano pattern.
This is the kind of song that makes you want to stop doing whatever you are doing, and simply paying attention to the sound that’s coming out of the speakers. I love the second part of the song, when the drums kick in, completely shifting the balance in a way that you wouldn’t expect when you settle into the mood of the intro of the track. The song progressively becomes more energetic, but without losing its original punch and sense of emotional vocal delivery. The rock guitars and the drums eventually kick in, making for a massive sound, that still retains its inner intimacy.
These are only some of my favorite moments on the album, but the entire playlist is a joy to discover. Each song has something new to offer, which other songs on the set list don’t explore. From the classic folky vibe of “Nadine,” down to the 70s piano ballad vibe on the Elton John-esque “Music In My Head” anything goes!
Alison shows off her broad-ranging talent and versatility, delivering an album that’s as exciting as a rollercoaster ride!
In addition to Alison’s amazing performance and great lyrics, it is also worth noting that this release has an amazing production. I love the spontaneous and warm edge of these recordings. As opposed to hiding Alison’s natural character with layers and layers of over-processing, it feels that the quality of the recording actually accentuates her vocal qualities. She allows herself to sound fragile and introspective, but she also knows when to accentuate her dynamics and deliver more energy. One of the most beautiful features of this release is definitely the fact that there is a nice ebb and flow, giving the songs a dreamy, float-y quality, almost like being gently lulled by the waves of a quiet sea.
I also love the beautiful simplicity of the artwork cover. The simple, yet well-executed drawing captures the “less is more” aesthetics of this album to perfection, and the soft color palette is also in line with the vibes of this release, in my opinion.
Find out more about Alison Newman, and listen to “Heart Songs” on the web. The release is currently available on Spotify and Soundcloud, only to mention a few.
https://open.spotify.com/album/5Vp4ZCy6yNoYgfaUGfgZc8?si=Y-AuDQZaQ3qQBemDn9KfnA
https://soundcloud.com/alison-newman-vocalist
You can actually find out more and connect with Alison via her website or social media platforms as well:
Official Website: https://www.alisonnewman.net/
Facebook is https://www.facebook.com/AlisonNewmanVocalist/
Instagram is https://www.instagram.com/alison_newman_vocalist/
Twitter is https://twitter.com/alsone765
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Florida is the perfect family road trip destination. The state is huge and has so much to offer from beaches to springs to Disney World! Our Ultimate Florida Road Trip will take you from one end of the state down around and back up to the Florida panhandle. Have you thought about renting an RV for your trip – we highly recommend it!
*Be sure to check out our FREE Ultimate Florida Road Trip With Your Family eBook below!
The Ultimate Florida Road Trip Map
St. Augustine
There are so many things to do in St Augustine Florida, it’s an amazing way to start your ultimate Florida road trip. We recommend 2 nights, but really you could stay a week. If you are staying 2 days visit:
St. Augustine Alligator Farm
You can spend hours here exploring all the different alligators, feeding them, and watching the shows. Plus for only $5 you can take your picture with a baby alligator!
Fountain of Youth
It seemed like such a tourist trap to us, but really there is more to it than just the fountain. The grounds are beautiful and filled with multiple history lessons – including the Timucuan Village and seeing them fire a cannon! The road to get to the Fountain of Youth is also amazing with a canopy of old oaks covering the street. Needless to say it is worth it to go.
St. George Street
You can end your day by visiting St. George Street. It is filled with restaurants and one of our favorite stops Hyppo for homemade popsicles! They even had a champagne flavored one. And yes, those are our dogs. St. Augustine is super dog friendly!
We also recommend checking out: https://www.historictours.com/staugustine/index.php they offer great package and other ideas of things to do in the area. The trolley was an amazing way to get around town and really learn a lot about St. Augustine. It also meant we didn’t have to drive and find parking everywhere we went.
Visit our post about St. Augustine
Where to Stay:
RV Park: St Johns RV Park – http://www.stjohnsrvpark.com/
Let me tell you up front there is NOTHING special about this RV park. And to be honest when we first pulled in we thought it might be a little shady . . . there are some permanent trailers where people live in the back of the park. Given the price we got (with Passport America) and how close it was to downtown St. Augustine it worked out great. Which is why we recommend it. We also had no problems when we were there and the staff was very nice.
Hotel: Hilton St. Augustine Historic Bayfront
We did not stay in a hotel when we were there but given where this hotel is located we think it would be a great place to stay. If you stay here you could walk to a lot of the downtown attractions or easily get on the trolley.
If you are looking for a stop to make in between St. Augustine and Orlando check out Exploring The Local Life’s post below.
Ocala National Forest: http://www.exploringthelocallife.com/alexander-springs-ocala-national-forest-play-swim-snorkel-and-scuba/
Lyonia Preserve: http://www.exploringthelocallife.com/lyonia-preserve-florida-scrub-jay-habitat-native-florida/
Orlando
You can’t come to Florida and not go to Orlando. Plan on at least 3 days for all of these things to do in Orlando, Florida:
Magic Kingdom
Visit Magic Kingdom for 1 day. We have done it multiple times and really feel you can see the majority of the park in 1 day. We wrote a post about our tips for visiting in 1 day here: 11 Tips For Visiting Magic Kingdom In 1 Day
Here are some tips from Global Munchkins: Disney World Tips & Tricks
We always love finding unique things to do when we visit places. Check out Merlot Mommy’s post on: 6 Unique Things To Do In Walt Disney World
Plan on heading to Animal Kingdom? Our friends at We3Travel share what the best ride is in Animal Kingdom and all of Disney!
Discovery Cove is another cool place to check out: A Day At Discovery Cove.
Universal Studios
We had put off going to Universal Studios until our kids were a little older. Now that our youngest is 5 we figured it was a good time to go! We had an absolute blast and loved every minute of it. There was plenty to do with younger kids and the older ones could go on almost all of the rides.
We also had a great time going to Volcano Bay and highly recommend if you are going to Universal plan a day at Volcano Bay!
Travel Babbo shares: Why We Prefer Universal Orlando To Disney World
Great tips from Global Munchkins on visiting Universal: The Best Universal Orlando Tips From A Pro
Have teens? Merlot Mommy shares: The Best Rides for Teens at Universal Orlando Resort
Tubing
Go tubing at Kelly Rock Springs and visit Downtown Disney. This has been one of our favorite things. The water is crystal clear and with all the beautiful greenery and perfect water it is a can’t miss destination!
You start from the top of the spring on an inner tube and float all the way down to the beach. AMAZING!
You can learn more about it in our post: Tubing By Orlando The Best Non Disney Experience
Legoland
If your kids are 12 or younger we recommend also making a stop at Legoland Florida for a day. The size of the park is so much easier to manage then Disney World and in a day you can pretty much do every ride and see the shows.
Here is our post on Legoland and the Legoland hotel.
You could also look to plan a trip over to the Kennedy Space Center and maybe catch a launch!
Where to stay:
RV Park: Orlando RV Resort – https://www.thousandtrails.com/florida/orlando-rv-resort/
With our RV we always stay at the Thousand Trails Orlando. Its proximity to all of the things we listed above is great and you are a little ways away from the hustle and bustle of Orlando. If you want a more glamorous place to stay then Disney’s Fort Wilderness is for you. We spent a day there and it was pretty awesome and we know other RVers who call it their FAVORITE place to stay in the whole US.
Hotel: Embassy Suites on International Drive
If you are looking for a hotel and want to give your kids a special treat then stay at the Legoland Hotel. They have gifts for your kids once they complete a scavenger hunt in your room, all the legos you want to play with in the lobby and some amazing shows. Then of course there are all the Disney properties. To be honest we always look for ways to cut costs so we can take more trips and do more things. In that mindset we stayed at an Embassy Suites that provide breakfast was close to Disney – so that is always an option too.
Here are a couple other hotel options:
If you are looking to kick back with a big group or want to experience a luxury vacation home check out this Orlando Vacation Home! We stayed here for a week with friends and it was AMAZING!!
Stuffed Suitcase shares their experience at Lake Buena Vista Resort Village and Spa in Orlando.
Travel Babbo shares their review of The Hotel That Made Us Skip Disney World
If are looking for a few extra free things to do check out Real Mom Reviews: 5 Free Things To Do With Kids In Orlando, Florida.
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Miami
Welcome to Miami! Miami has a very cool vibe to it. We recommend doing the following:
Little Havana
Miami has an amazing Cuban presence and vibe to it. Head into Little Havana and grab some ice cream at: Azucar and then walk down the street to see if you can hear any cuban music coming from the bar/restaurants and do a little dance in the street.
Wynwood
Next head into Wynwood and check out the amazing artwork on the sides of the building. This is an up and coming area in Miami and has an awesome vibe to it! You can also park and get out and walk around Wynwood Walls to check out the artwork and restaurants in the area.
South Beach
Go to South Beach and see what South Beach is really like! We didn’t get a chance to get out of our car due to how busy it was. But it was cool to drive down A1A and take in everything South Beach has to offer.
Miami Seaquarium
Yes they have an Orca whale – yes we have mixed feelings – but we still went and saw the show and it was a really cool experience to see an Orca Whale up close. The rest of the Seaqaurium has a lot of offer and some great shows.
Check out our post on: 7 Things To Do with Kids in Miami
Where to stay:
RV Park: Miami Evergaldes RV Park – https://www.crazyfamilyadventure.com/miami-everglades-rv-resort/
We stayed at the Encore RV park. We had to drive a ways to get into downtown Miami – but it was still worth it since the RV park was so nice and quiet. Plus they had a great pool, hot tub and mini golf course!
Hotel: Check out this highly rated family friendly hotel: InterContinental Miami
Another idea is to take a cruise when you are in Miami! The Carnival Vista looks amazing! If you do go on a cruise be sure to check out this great post on your family cruise packing list.
Florida Keys and Key West
Ever wonder the distance from Miami to Key West? Well, it’s about 160 miles. Crazy, right?! That 3 hour drive could be a road trip in itself! Well, now you know the distance from Miami to Key West, and along the way, check these amazing stops:
Feed the Tarpons
Stop at Robbie’s and feed the Tarpons. It is a really cool experience. For just a few bucks, you get a bucket of fish that you then feed to the large tarpon that hang out by the pier. So fun! Just look out for the Pelicans, they’re savage!
Grab lunch at Sunset Grille
This is a cool restaurant on the water that has a pool! It is a great place to stop, eat lunch and take a swim before heading on. Once you are done swimming walk up the stairs that go under the bridge and walk out on the famous 7 Mile Bridge.
7 Mile Bridge
You can’t avoid it on your way down to Key West, but I wanted to add it so you can be sure you have your camera ready. I love this bridge and the idea of the water surrounding you on all sides!
Key West – Fort Zachary Taylor
Explore the fort and spend time at the beach. The beach doesn’t have soft white sand, but most in the Keys don’t due to the reef but that’s OK. The color of the water and the ability to snorkel right off the beach make up for it! There is also a small restaurant here where you can grab lunch and a beer.
Key West – Mallory Square
Then head to Mallory Square for the Sunset Celebration. There are a variety of fun shows for the whole family. Yes, some of the comments can be a little crude (they do try really hard to make it family friendly) – but normally will go right over your kids head. We were able to drink from a coconut and enjoy some great food too.
Key West – Fury Ultimate Adventure
The Fury Ultimate Adventure is one of our favorite things we have done! Spend 6 hours on a large catamaran where they feed you all day and provide all you can drink soda plus beer and wine at the end the end of the trip. While you snorkel, parasail, jet ski and play on huge inflatables in the middle of the ocean. Such an amazing time!!
You can learn more at our post: The 4 Best Water Activities With Kids In Key West.
Key West – Dry Tortugas
If you can fit it in take the boat ride out to the Dry Tortugas. It is an amazing and magical place. Seriously, it is an island 70 miles off of Key West with the bluest water you have ever seen and a beach filled with conch shells. And the fort offers the best photo opportunities. Get Dramamine and be prepared for the long and bumpy boat ride.
Here is our post on it: Dry Tortugas – One For The Bucket List
Or if you have enough time, plan on camping on the Dry Tortugas! We didn’t get a chance to do it but it is on our list to go back and stay for a few nights. Here is a post from a family of 5, Currently Wandering, who spent a few days on the Tortugas (lucky!): Family Camping In Dry Tortugas National Park
You can check out: https://www.historictours.com/keywest/index.php for more ideas and discounted packages on things to do in Key West. We really enjoyed the aquarium and the kids loved being able to feed the sharks!
We spent 2 1/2 months in the Florida Keys. You can check out all of our posts on our time there on our: Florida Keys page.
Check out We3Travel’s post: Family Fun In The Florida Keys to learn more as well!
Where To Stay:
RV Park: Boyds Campground – https://www.boydscampground.com/
We haven’t stayed here but we have heard if you want to be close to Key West this is a great place to stay with your RV. If you are looking for a less expensive option and somewhere that is in a quieter location, we recommend Sunshine Key – which is where we stayed. It is a good 90 minute drive into Key West so be prepared for that. Or if you can get in the Bahia Honda State Park is amazing – especially if you get right on the water.
Hotel: Casa Marina Resort, in Key West. The property is beautiful and not right in the middle of downtown Key West – which we think is a great fit for being with a family in Key West.
If you can stay in the Keys for longer we also recommend Hawks Cay! The only problem with staying here is you won’t want to leave but will instead want to stay at the hotel and enjoy all the amenities. So for a road trip it would be great for a couple day break but we really recommend it if you are looking for a week long stay in one place.
Everglades National Park
Shark Valley
Make a stop at the Shark Valley Visitor Center in the northern end of the Everglades and take a tram ride (may have to buy tickets well ahead of time for this) or if you have your bikes or want to rent them you can take the 15 mile bike ride into Shark Valley – which we recommend! You don’t need tickets to do the biking.
You can learn more about the tram and about renting bicycles here: http://www.sharkvalleytramtours.com/.
It is one amazing and wild ride as you pedal right past gigantic alligators!!! And depending on the weather you may even be riding through rain puddles with alligators sitting right in them. Once you reach the lookout you can climb to the top and have an amazing view of the Everglades. At 15 miles round trip it is a long ride, but the path is paved and flat – but like in our case – if it is windy, it can be challenging.
Be prepared when you get to Shark Valley Visitor Center that there may be a line to get into the parking lot. They have a small parking lot and they only let so many people in. We just sat in our car and waited our turn. It took about 20 minutes or so. A few other people parked on the road outside the entrance. If you have your bikes I recommend waiting for a spot in the lot since you will be there a while.
Check out our post on Shark Valley here: 7 Things To Do With Kids in Miami.
Where to Stay:
RV Park: If you are up for National Park Camping we recommend Midway Campground https://www.nps.gov/bicy/planyourvisit/midway-campground.htm It is a 21 minute drive from there to Shark Valley.
Hotel: Best Western Plus Kendall Hotel & Suites We did not stay here but do to its location it would be great for visiting Shark Valley. It is about a 38 minute drive to Shark Valley Visitor Center.
Highlands Hammock State Park
Looking for things to do in central Florida other than Orlando? Stop at the Highland Hammock State Park. It is a beautiful park and we recommend taking at least 1 of the hikes before heading out. The Cyprus Swamp – Highland Hammock Trail is one of our favorite hikes. A couple of our kids were a little freaked out about it but when it was said and done everyone had fun!
Here is our post on: Highland Hammock State Park.
Where to stay:
RV Park: Highland Hammock State Park campground. We stayed here and it was great!
Hotel: The Inn On The Lakes We did not stay here but due to its location we would recommend it.
Here is a post from a fellow travel bloggers the BareNeckers about their time at Highland Hammock.
Clearwater
Clearwater Beach
Voted one of the best beaches in Florida. Clearwater is a beautiful beach with white sand and aquamarine water and beautiful beach resorts. Just be prepared that it can be very busy. If you can spend a day hanging out at the beach and then head to the main street to check out the shops and grab dinner.
Dolphin Tale
Visit Winter from the movie Dolphin Tale at the Clearwater Aquarium and be sure to take the free boat ride over to the museum that is dedicated to the movie. And be on the look out for dolphins in the ocean on the ride!
Here is our post on Clearwater Aquarium.
Where to Stay:
RV Park: It is a bit of a drive, but we stayed at Lazy Days and made the 1 hour drive into Clearwater Beach.
Hotel: Hyatt Regency Clearwater Beach Resort would be a great place to stay due to its proximity to the beach! Check out these three spacious Clearwater Beach resorts perfect for families too.
Destin
Finish your trip by stopping in Destin for a day of relaxation. If the weather is going to be warm enough when you go then get a hotel room on the beach and plan on just kicking back and relaxing for your last few days. If you aren’t ready to relax Destin also offers an amazing pirate boat adventure for the kids and a dolphin cruise. Plus there is under the sea bowling and a lot of yummy restaurants in the area.
The sunsets are amazing so be sure to catch it each night you are there!
Here is our post on Destin (we have stayed twice: 3 weeks one time and a month the next and we totally miss it!).
Where to Stay:
RV Park: Camp Gulf on the beach!
It is by far one of our favorite RV parks and we highly recommend paying the extra to stay on the beach.
Hotel: Hilton Sandestin
The hotel is actually pretty close to the RV park. You can walk on the beach to the hotel from the RV park and get a drink at their bar/restaurant. A great way to watch the sunset!
If you are looking for more ideas on Florida check out our guest post on yTravel Blog: 18 Places To Visit With Kids In Florida
Airbnbs
Another option for lodging during your Florida Road Trip, check out some Airbnb options.
Florida has so much to offer. If you can, we recommend staying for months – we stayed for 6. But if that isn’t an option this road trip could take approximately 2 weeks depending on how much time you spend at each location. You will be covering a lot of miles but it will be worth it to see all of these amazing places and to get a real feel for what Florida is all about!
Be sure to check out Passport America if planning on camping throughout Florida, you’ll save a bundle!
Want more road trip ideas? Check out our post on 365AtlantaFamily: 20+ Things To Do In Florida On The Ultimate Sunshine State Road Trip
Looking for a Florida Beach focused trip? Check out our post on 365AtlantaFamily: Florida Beaches: 25 Best Family Vacation Destinations
Want some more tips on Florida? I told you this was the Ultimate guide :). Check out these amazing Places To Visit In Florida.
Looking for another Road Trip? Check out these great East Cost Family Vacation Ideas!
Recommended Itinerary for 14 nights:
Download (XLSX, 26KB)
And if you want to get our free eBook on the Ultimate Florida Road Trip With Your Family click the image below.
The ebook documents everything in this post, along with an area for notes under each city, so you can easily print it and use it for your planning and when you go on your trip.
If you have any questions on the Ultimate Florida Road Trip, let us know in the comments!
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The post The Ultimate Florida Road Trip: 31 Places Not To Miss appeared first on Crazy Family Adventure.
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7 Common Interior Design Mistakes - You can Avoid!
7 Design Mistakes You Can Avoid!
Interior Design can often be an overwhelming concept, and interior design mistakes are common. Especially when you are facing a brand new environment it can be hard to know where to begin! I want to empower you to create the environment of your dreams by illustrating some common interior design mistakes so that you can avoid them from the start!
When looking at creating a new space from scratch you may want someone to walk you through the process. If you are thinking about hiring a designer you should check out these posts too!
Whether you are starting over in a new space or something feels off in your current environment little tweaks and some foresight help to put you on the right path.
It is so easy to follow some of the main design “rules” without understanding the nuance of what makes a room up. It’s most often these little interior mistakes that can get past most people.
You deserve an environment that functions and supports you.
These home mistake “fix it” tips don’t take much effort from you, but they do make a huge difference in how you interact with your environment!
If you decide to keep making these design mistakes you can risk spending a lot of time and money in creating a room with things you love, but ruining the vibe with these mis-steps. Wondering why your space doesn’t completely work for you and I want to help you avoid that!
1. Having one bulb to light your whole space
It’s really easy, especially if you have a space that is well lit during the day with natural light to neglect the lighting needs in your space! Make sure that even if you are lucky enough to have existing overhead lighting that you layer in different levels of light. A great way to succeed at this is to create different micro-environments in your room, and light them according to the tasks that you engage in. One hanging overhead pendant with one bulb is never enough. For example, you may have a sofa on one side of the room with end tables and lamps on a dimmer for evening drinks with friends, while also having a floor lamp by your favorite reading chair for your late night reads by the window. Having light sources closer to where you utilize it creates a more cozy environment and also is a lot more flattering for the complexion too! Putting everything on a dimmer is also a great way to introduce function into your lighting scheme, allowing you to change the mood as you wish!
2. Too small of a rug
I call this poster stamp syndrome. As a designer this one mistake kills me the most, and in my opinion is the top interior design mistake! I cannot tell you how many times I’ve walked into a client’s home to witness this. Nothing will cheapen the look of a beautiful room more than a mis-sized rug. If you learn one design rule from this post make it this one! Rugs are very important, when you think about it other than the walls and the flooring, they take up the greatest amount of square footage in your space. This mean that they really set the tone for what you are trying to accomplish in the space, and need to be taken seriously!
Some easy rules to follow, plus an infographic below!
• Rugs should be as large as possible (leaving about 12” at least of space to the walls)
• The rug should be big enough so that all for your seating furniture front legs rest on the rug at least, even better if the furniture sits completely on the rug!
• The rug must be longer on one side than the largest piece of furniture touching it, which means:
-10’ sofa: 9x12’, 10x14’ and up
-9’ sofa: 8x10’, 9x12’, 10x14’ and up
-8’ sofa: 6x9’, 8x10’, 9x12’, 10x14’ and up
-7’ sofa: 5x8’, 6x9’, 8x10’, 9x12’, 10x14’ and up
-6’ sofa: 5x8’, 6x9’, 8x10’, 9x12’, 10x14’ and up
• It’s better to buy an inexpensive rug in the right size than an expensive tiny rug
• If you have a too small rug that you want to use layer it on top of a neutral rug of the correct size.
• Don’t put a rug on top of wall to wall carpeting!
3. Hanging drapery wrong
Drapery can really help finish off your room. Chances are if you have everything just right in your space, but still feel as though something is missing its probably your lack of window treatments. Window treatments can be very tricky. What will work and look the best depends on a lot of different factors such as, how you want the light to come in, when the light comes in, and how you want to use the space and when. I plan on diving deeper into this subject in the future to further explain when and where you should consider using different window treatments. In regards to drapery I find them to give the most visual impact and functionality across the board of basic window needs. However people often do not hang them correctly!
• Hang your rod as high and as wide as possible
• When pulled back your drapery panels should not cover the sides of your window and block the light. Which means that you need at least about 10” of rod past each side of the window frame. When panels cover the window they make the window appear smaller, the opposite of what you want (see image below).
• Drapery panels should just kiss the floor when hung , too short of panels look inexpensive and shorten your ceiling height visually
• Do not hang your rod directly on the window frame
4. Putting furniture against all of the walls
This is what I jokingly refer to as outer space planning and it’s a common occurrence, and another one of the worst interior design mistakes. For some strange reason many people love to place all of their furniture on the outskirts of their room, anchored by walls, thinking that this is the way to layout their room. I’ve heard explanations from clients such as “This way makes the room look bigger and everything doesn’t get in the way” , while in the same breath asking “I just don’t know why this space doesn’t work for us”. Space planning is extremely important, it is the backbone of any beautiful room, even when most of my clients don’t even know what it is. It’s so important that the furniture in your room is placed at functional space intervals so that you can live! For example if you place your sofa against one wall and float your coffee table in the middle of the room four feet away on the floating rug, how are you supposed to reach your coffee in the morning?! Maybe your space calls for the sofa to float in the middle of the room instead, creating a more intimate functional space designed around how you would like to live. This pre-planning of a space is the key to good interior design, and if this skill eludes you you may want to seek out a friend who knows what they are doing! Here’s my design services explained if you are interested!
5. Hanging artwork wrong
This is so common! I get it because there are a couple different rules depending on where you plan on hanging your pieces.
• When hanging a single piece of art on its own, not over any furniture, make sure the center of the piece hangs at 60” from the floor
• When hanging art over furniture the bottom edge of the art should sit about 6” above the piece
* When hanging art over a large piece of furniture like a console or a sofa the art should encompass at least 2/3rds of the furniture length so that it has the right visual scale
• But art shouldn’t be wider that the piece that it hangs above
• When hanging multiple pieces treat them as one, this means:
Two pieces stacked on top of one another should be hung with the 2 to 3” between them at 60” from the floor (the pieces should be the same size, if not always hang the smaller piece on top of the larger one)
Or three pieces of the same size over a sofa should again have 2 to 3” between them, 6” above the sofa, and the width of the three should be at least 2/3rds of the width of the sofa
• When hanging gallery walls its most important to keep the spacing even, 2 to 3” between larger pieces and 1.5 to 2.5” between smaller pieces
6. Not measuring first!
Please please please do this. I don’t want any more calls from any friends crying to me that they ordered their third nightstand, it showed up, and didn’t fit! Did you measure…? You need to have an idea of what you are working with. You can stop a lot of heart and back break from happening when you plan ahead. When you measure first you end up not moving your oversized sectional to your new home just to realize it doesn’t fit through the door! Every single piece of furniture in a room interacts with the one next to it and if any are not the right scale for the space it will negatively affect the rest of the environment. Now I totally understand if someone just needs to make something work in regards to budget, but it is the worst when people have the money for a new heirloom piece and it doesn’t work because they didn’t measure the room! This ties back to the space planning we discussed and if you ever need any help I am here for you!
7. Following trends instead of your heart
I know I told you rug size is the most important but I got ahead of myself (because its my biggest pet peeve ever). Truly this is the most important design faux pas you can make. Listening to the hoard over your own inner guidance. Even though if you go looking for them you will find as many design rules as you can stomach. However none of these matter if they don’t work for you. Your space should reflect who you are most importantly. I really try to dig deep with my clients and uncover what makes them who they are using their deeper selves as the true inspiration for their new environment. It’s your inner self that will make or break the way a room feels to you and you must focus on that only when creating a space made for you. Feel free to ignore all the rules and all the trends in order to follow your heart to the environment of your dreams.
If you are looking to see more post like these you should join the community by signing up below I would love to connect with you deeper!
Love,
Are you new here? Welcome to Catherine Rose Design! I also have the following blogs and resources to help you with your holistic interior design goals if you are looking for more!:
Is Online Interior Design Right For You?
Your Home Should Tell The Story of Who You Are
Free Interior Design Soul Styles Guide
Design Beautiful Bedding
How to Create a Sacred Space
How to Visualize Your Dream Life - Through Your Dream Day
How to Create a Home Office
Inner Wellness Ideas to Create in Your Home
July 2020 - Etsy Loves
July 2020 - Outdoor Patio Ideas
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My first time in NYC: My 15 favorite spots
We’re back from New York!
Bucket list item ticked off!
We spent five and a half days in NYC at the beginning of the month, and we loved it! It did take me some time to sort through and edit all my pictures. I also knew early on I wanted to do a highlights post rather than a travel diary, so here’s an absolute mammoth of a post!
I can be something of an excessive planner – for our three-week US road trip, I had a massive Excel sheet with itineraries, spending overviews, hotel bookings, restaurant research, weather data, and all sorts of other stuff, but for this trip I actively tried to hold myself back from going too crazy. I did make a Pinterest board to collect ideas and we had a couple of must-sees that we wanted to get to (since it was the first time in NYC for the both of us), but we largely kept it chill and decided every morning what we felt like doing that day.
In the end, we did a lot of walking, and we saw some of the most famous places, including the World Trade Center memorial, Grand Central Station, MoMA, Central Park, and Times Square. We also headed out to Brooklyn twice, once to Brooklyn Heights and Bushwick, and once to Williamsburg.
We had an amazing trip and even though NYC is definitely a few sizes too big for me in terms of livability, I would absolutely love to come back for another visit.
Anyways, without further ado, here are 15 great places that we enjoyed!
Where we stayed
Without knowing much about New York to begin with, we determined that for our first visit, Manhattan would probably be our best choice, since we’d want to cover some of the must-sees close by. I had a hunch that Brooklyn would be much more up my alley, but even though that was absolutely true, our choice of location turned out to work really well with our schedule. We stayed at the Frederick Hotel in Tribeca, which we really enjoyed (despite our window facing a busy street and the resulting difficulty sleeping). We were walking distance from areas like Soho, Nolita, and the Bowery, as well as the Financial District to the South, and we were right by a subway station with lines to Brooklyn and uptown. Our room was small, but nice, and we were really happy with our stay.
95 W Broadway, New York, NY 10007 | frederickhotelnyc.com
Tiny’s & the Bar Upstairs, Tribeca
This ridiculously cute place was just a stone’s throw away from our hotel, about two blocks up West Broadway. From the first time we passed it in the Lyft from the airport, I knew we had to go there – it’s a tiny pink house, how could we not?! We never got to try the Bar Upstairs, but we did go for breakfast here twice on our quite short stay, and it was delicious! I later noticed that my huge NYC Pinterest board also had a pin that listed Tiny’s as one of NYC cutest lunch spots – we’ll have to try their lunch and drinks some other time. If you’re having breakfast here, I highly recommend the pancakes!
135 W Broadway, New York, NY 10013 | tinysnyc.com
Fette Sau BBQ, Williamsburg
This backyard barbecue joint has a German name and homemade pickles, so you don’t have to ask me twice if I want to stop for a bite! We had lunch here during our day in Williamsburg, and it was amazing. We didn’t completely pig out (haha, “pig out”, get it?!), but we tried their scrumptious ribs, pork shoulder, and the aforementioned pickles (not to sweet and perfectly crunchy), and dipped the squishy buns in unholy amounts of their delicious barbecue sauces.
354 Metropolitan Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11211 | fettesaubbq.com
Morgenstern’s Finest Ice Cream, Bowery
Some time ago, I discovered Morgenstern’s on Instagram, and I knew I had to go. Their ice cream looked like absolute creamy perfection, and they have amazing flavors like burnt honey vanilla (top scoop), green tea pistachio (bottom scoop), banana curry, cinnamon whiskey, or their famous black coconut ash. I didn’t take any pictures of the store because it was super crowded, but it is the cutest setup reminiscent of old school American ice cream parlors with a gorgeous royal blue facade.
2 Rivington St, New York, NY 10002 | morgensternsnyc.com
MoMA, Midtown
Since we only had so few days, I decided early on that we would only go to one museum this time – and up until we left the hotel that morning, I hadn’t made up my mind yet whether it should be the Met, the Guggenheim, or the MoMA. Ultimately, though, the MoMA had been at the top of my list forever, so we headed there. We saw the classics, of course, but spent most time in the Adrian Piper exhibit. This definitely wasn’t my last visit!
11 W 53rd St, New York, NY 10019 | moma.org
The Butcher’s Daughter, Nolita
One of the things I love most about being on vacation is indulging in breakfast or brunch, which on my workdays consist of two slices of knækbrød with cheese or some müsli. So when I’m on holiday, breakfast is the most important meal of the day! My research into the most popular brunch places in NYC consistently spit out The Butcher’s Daughter, a juice bar and (predominantly) plant-based restaurant, so of course we had to give it a try. I had the avocado smash eggs benedict, and the boyfriend dug into eggs, salsa, hash browns, and smashed avocado. Their cold brew coffee and juices were excellent, too.
19 Kenmare St, New York, NY 10012 | thebutchersdaughter.com
Sprout Home, Williamsburg
We spent one day in Williamsburg, strolling around and browsing through various stores, including this one – a perfect green oasis! Green indoor and outdoor plants, succulents, flowers, and decorative items including vases, terracotta and porcelain planters, baskets, as well as gardening and planting tools and accessories. I’m glad this store isn’t anywhere near me, because I would not be able to restrain myself!
59 Grand St, Brooklyn, NY 11249 | sprouthome.com
Café Habana, SoHo
On our way home from some early Saturday evening drinks, we felt like some dinner was in order and swung by Café Habana, a Cuban restaurant in a super cozy Soho street. The tiny place was crowded, but there was room on the bench outside, so we people-watched and took in the NYC atmosphere while munching on our delicious chips with guacamole and Baja style fish tacos with rice and black beans. I could eat this for dinner three nights a week and not grow tired of it!
17 Prince St, New York, NY 10012 | cafehabana.com
City of Saints, Bushwick
During our first of two Brooklyn days, we ended up in Bushwick for a walking tour of the local graffiti and street art scene (more on that below). After two hours in the scorching sun, we needed to cool down and headed into a coffee shop that we’d passed on the tour. Their cold brew and iced green tea really hit the spot! The Bushwick location is a coffee shop and roastery, which gives the place a super cool, industrial vibe. They also have a really cool piece of street art in there.
297 Meserole St, Brooklyn, NY 11206 | cityofsaintscoffee.com
Smith & Mills, Tribeca
Our very first dinner in NYC! We had left Copenhagen around 10:30am and landed in NYC around 1:30pm local time. From then on, we tried our darnedest to stay awake as long as possible, but ended up having a super early, 5:30pm dinner at this cute restaurant close to the hotel (before finally giving in and falling asleep around 8pm – I’m the worst at staying awake!). Smith & Mills is a tiny place located in an old carriage house. They have seats for maybe 18-20 people inside, plus three small tables squeezed onto the sidewalk in front, and the “kitchen” is an approximately one meter wide part of the bar. But they somehow manage to serve absolutely amazing food here – the boyfriend had the burger and I opted for the marinara chicken meat balls with the crispiest garlic toast.
71 N Moore St, New York, NY 10013 | smithandmills.com
Brooklyn Bridge Park & Brooklyn Heights Promenade
After a few days in Manhattan, we headed out to Brooklyn, and when I stepped out of the subway station in Brooklyn Heights, it felt like I could finally breathe! There was fresh air and trees, and no car horns – a more than welcome relief for my ears. It was still relatively early morning (our inner clocks never fully adjusted, so we were basically up and ready at 6 or 7am) so we enjoyed a calm and quiet stroll along the beautiful streets of Brooklyn Heights and then down along the promenade and up towards the bridge. The view towards the skyline was somewhat hazy and cloudy, but it was a beautiful day nonetheless. We didn’t end up walking across the bridge – another thing saved for a future trip.
334 Furman St, Brooklyn, NY 11201
Street Art in Industrial Bushwick
As I mentioned above, on our first day in Brooklyn, we participated in a walking tour that showcased the local graffiti and street art scene. I know little to nothing about street art, but somehow it felt like a very Brooklyn thing to do, based on the equally little knowledge I had of this borough. But it turned out to be a really cool walk – we saw loads of really cool artworks, learned about different styles, and got a little bit of insight into the scene. If you want to see some artworks but don’t necessarily want to do a paid tour, there is a 2×2 block area between Meserole St, Stagg St, Waterbury St and Morgan Avenue that you can wander about to see some cool pieces.
Meserole St, Brooklyn
Mmuseumm, Tribeca
I know I said earlier that I had planned to only visit one museum on this trip, but does it really count if the museum consists of only one room? I have a thing for weird and quirky stuff, and this museum definitely falls in that category. It’s a modern natural history museum concerned mainly with “contemporary artifacts” that illustrate modern life – such as toothpaste, a small fan you can plug into your phone, or a Russian soft drink. It’s behind a steel door on a small alley in Tribeca, and even when the door is closed, you can see through a little window. It’s wonderfully weird and I found it quite unique and fun.
4 Cortlandt Alley, New York, NY 10013 | mmuseumm.com
Iris Cafe, Brooklyn Heights
This little gem of a cafe is somewhat hidden away on a quiet street. It’s a no-nonsense cafe with excellent coffee – the best cold brew I’ve tasted in NYC, and I did have quite a few! – and solid breakfast food. I had a delicious egg sandwich with sliced avocado and pickles (struck me as odd at first but GAME CHANGER), and the boyfriend went with a classic: avocado toast with two eggs. We really enjoyed the atmosphere here – I could see myself hanging out here regularly if I lived in the neighborhood.
20 Columbia Pl, Brooklyn, NY 11201 | iriscafe.nyc
Gelso & Grand, Little Italy
As we were wandering the streets of Chinatown and Little Italy, we noticed it was getting time for a pre-dinner drink, so we began to look out for a suitable place. Soon enough, we stumbled upon Gelso & Grand, a down-to-earth, modern Italian bar and restaurant which seemed to be really popular with the local crowd for an after-work glass of wine. We settled in at the stylish bar and had a glass of crisp rosé before continuing our stroll. I’d like to come back and try their pasta and wood-fired oven pizzas, or maybe just a giant plate of charcuterie and artisanal cheeses…
186 Grand St, New York, NY 10013 | gelsoandgrand.com
Artists & Fleas, Williamsburg
Another chance find in Williamsburg was this awesome space: a marketplace for local artists, creators, and merchants with products ranging from vinyl records, vintage and second-hand clothes, handmade leather accessories and jewellery, skincare and makeup, arts and crafts. I found a printed top with a pizza slice from a small Jersey-based clothing brand here, but could easily have found many more things to bring home with me, had I gone of an extensive treasure hunt! We later saw that they also have a location at Chelsea Market.
70 N 7th St, Brooklyn, NY 11249 | artistsandfleas.com
There are still so, so many places that we didn’t get to, and probably hundreds more that I haven’t even heard of yet, but I’m sure this wasn’t our last trip to NYC, so we’ll have to save them for next time!
from The Copenhagen Tales https://ift.tt/2lkx7Qg
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