#I would like to thank my amazing friend Kali for teaching me how to say 'I love you' in German
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Miserables Month Day 3: "Language"
Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth
Her Marius Pontmercy could easily be labeled sometimes as being somewhat an odd fellow.
Do not misunderstand her; for all his oddities, Cosette was still very much in love with him, but it could be quite confusing trying to parce through his rapid speeches and lines, many times only just being able to catch phrases such as "I love you" as Marius Pontmercy rushed on an on about his speech.
At the present, however, she believed her Marius was being unbearably rude. The last night they had seen each other in the garden, he had been coughing a great deal, which certainly would not do. How dare he worry her like so?
That annoyance at his rudeness, however, turned to fear as she awaited his presence in the garden, her Papa and Toussaint having already fallen deep into their sleep on account of the late hours of the night.
Why hadn't he shown up yet? She huffed and adjusted her bonnet, annoyance quickly growing once more. How very inconsiderate to keep her waiting like this! She would be having words with him later on, remind him of how important it was to be on time to receive a lady.
A snap of a twig outside the garden gates caught her attention, and already having recognized the familiar weight of the footsteps, she rushed forwards towards the great gates, and whispered out, "Monsieur, is that you?" When no response came, she crossed her arms and raised her voice just the slightest bit, "Look, monsieur, I am already cross with you, do not aggravate me any further. Honestly, is this any to treat a lady? Making her wait so long?" She turned around and refused to look at him; when no answer came, she turned back, confused. In the gleaming moonlight she could make out the lovely coiffed curls so prominent on Marius, but when she moved forward, the rest of the figure enshrouded by the night's dark jolted, slipping something between the grilled gates, and rushing away.
Curse her foolish lover and the late hour in which they meet. She could not even call out for him, lest she wake her Papa and Toussaint. Instead, she had to huff and watch as Marius Pontmercy hurried away, having avoided her on this night.
Just as she was about to head back into the manor, already planning out exactly what she would be writing in her notebook, the clouds around the moon shifted and spilled a sliver of light over what Cosette could now see was a folded slip of paper. A note.
She remembered, now, her Marius' penchant for sending notes and love letters, and as she unfolded the paper and caught sight of the scrawled lines, she could see that it was indeed the latter:
My dearest Cosette,
Oh that it is my woe that I should be separated from you on this night! I never wish to be parted from you, and yet it seems destiny seems to have other plans for my fate.
As has been the source of your consternation over these last few days, I have taken ill. The cough I had been so hoping would fade to nothing has unfortunately only grown harsher and worse. My friend, Courfeyrac—you don't know him—has taken notice to this, and has expressly forbid that I should journey outside our flat.
He is aware I have been seeing you, and yet he was still unrelenting in nt allowing me come meet when we usually do. He doesn't quite understand the workings of the heart—the most he's had have been quick flings. I beg you do not think of him poorly, however. At heart he is truly a good man.
The only way I was able to sneak out and give you this letter you now hold in your hands was when Courfeyrac had not yet returned from his meeting at the Musain—you won't know of those either. You know, he almost didn't go, was quite willing to stay by my side, but I forced him to go. He musn't miss out on his politics because of me.
My heart aches to be with you, my dearest. It is as they say—love is the best kind of medicine. I beg you hold me in your heart so that your Marius may return to you sooner than what may be too late.
Your beloved,
Marius Pontmercy
Sick? Oh how fretful! So she was justified, then, in her worry about that cough! If only she could have brough him into the manor, she would have had him in bed, at his side, ready should he need anything, and gently scolding his sleeping form for causing her such worry.
She made to fold up the letter and trudge gloomily back to her room, when a few more lines after the signature at the bottom appeared:
Je t'aime.
I love you.
Ich liebe dich
Je t'aime was all fine, and warmed her heart as she still stood, remaining in the garden. But these last two lines confused her—what on earth was this gibberish? Why did Marius believe she would know what it meant?
She hummed to herself as she stole back into the manor quietly so as not to wake Toussaint.
Perhaps her Marius had written it in a state of delirium. It was quite possible. Still, she kept the note safe on her little table.
_________________________________________
The next night was much the same. Cosette waited once more in the garden, a mix of anticipation and worry ebbing within her. If he did not return today, she thought she might faint of devastation—it was quite improper to worry a lady like this!
Again, as she spotted what she thought was Marius' curls, she hurried towards the gates, disappointed as that familiar figure rushed away once more.
She unfolded the note he had dropped with fear.
My dearest Cosette,
It seems as if this illness is a stubborn one. Courfeyrac, the friend I mentioned in my previous letter, brought over one of his friends today; he's training to become a doctor. He declared that it was nothing too serious and that I should be fine, however he was a little concerned with the way I had gone pale and started trembling. I purposefully neglected to inform him the reason for such a thing occurring was likely due more to his visit. I have not had many joyful memories of him from the first time we met.
I shall hope and pray sincerely that we meet tomorrow. I am sure God will grant me this one request. He does have much to make up for to me, anyways.
I beg you continue to think of me as I know you were doing yesterday. I could hear your whispers in the wind, calling for my name.
Your beloved,
Marius Pontmercy
And again, those three lines at the bottom, the last two still remaining a sequence of gibberish:
Je t'aime
I love you
Ich liebe dich
Her heart sunk. Her love was still ill, and so she would have to worry even more. She knew she shouldn't be concerned over whether her Marius was being well taken care of in his sick bed—the way he had spoken of this Courfeyrac made it seek as if he truly was in good hands—but she simply could not help it. She worried for her Marius. Oh curse this rainy season!
_________________________________________
That next night, Marius finally appeared back in her full sight.
The moon cast a glow over his face. His curls seemed a bit greasier, his face perhaps paler, and there were shadows that were rimmed beneath his eyes; all in all, however, Cosette still saw the handsome man who had caught her attention at the Luxembourg Gardens.
"Oh monsieur!" she cried, though in a quiet whisper as best as she could. She ran up to him, stopping short of embracing him and instead cupping her hands to his cheks. "How pale you've turned!" She drew back to glare at him. "It was very rude, you know, to have caught an illness like so; have you any idea the worry you caused me?"
It seemed as if Marius Pontmercy who was in the seventh heaven, could not muster words, only call out "Cosette!" in joy.
She crossed her arms and sat back down on her bench. "No, monsieur, I will not be having this at all! First with your illness worrying me and then your gibberish letters confusing me.".
At this, Marius Pontmercychimself turned confused. "Gibberish?" he repeated. "But I thought they were rather clear?"
Cosette waved a hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes, it was all fine and good, but then you wrote these three lines underneath, and I only know what the first one means." She drew out both the letters she had made sure to bring this time around. "See!"
She pointed to where he had written these lines, I love you and Ich liebe dich. "This is gibberish."
Marius Pontmercy glanced at the paper before softly chuckling. Cosette frowned.
"You only continue your rudeness," she said, annoyed. "I call out this serious problem, and you laugh."
When her Marius finally stops laughing and catches his breath, he further softens his eyes and said, "Cosette, I was telling you I love you."
Cosette raised an eyebrow. Yes, I know what that sounds like, but neither of them match je t'aime.
Marius knelt in front of her and took her hands in his own. A bold move. "That might be because they're in two different languages."
She furrowed her eyebrows. "Different languages?"
"Yes—you remember me telling you I'm a translator? I know English and German, those are the languages on the letters."
Cosette huffed once more and shifted her eyes to just to the right and far off from where Marius Pontmercy would sit. "Well how was I supposed to know this? And why write 'I love you' in three different languages when one is enough?"
Marius Pontmercy rubbed his thumbs on the soft skin of her palm. He tugged gently to bring her attention back to him. "It's because," he whispered softly, "I wanted you to know that in whatever language—French, English, or German—nothing will ever change this constant: that I love you."
Well, alright. Okay. So maybe Marius Pontmercy's thought of gibberish then wasn't so bad.
She smiled to herself. She would be keeping these letters safe. Especially as her Marius said, "In case it wasn't clear enough, however, let me express this in a language you understand," and he lifted the tip of her foot encased within its shoe and pressed his lips gently to it.
#I would like to thank my amazing friend Kali for teaching me how to say 'I love you' in German#les miserables#cosette#cosette fauchelevent#marius#marius pontmercy#marisette#mariusette#TheMiserablesMonth#The Miserables Month#les mis fic#annie writes stories
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Yellow and Purple... And Purple... And Purple
This is for the second day of the Bumbleby Week! Meeting the parents! Hope you guys enjoy it ^-^
Yang didn't know why she was this nervous. She had seen Kali and Ghira in various other occasions. That time when Haven almost fell. That time in Vacuo, when they and Blake reunited. That time they were planning on the final battle against Salem. That time they were celebrating the Grimm lady's defeat. Hell, they had even talked and laughed together.
This was the first time the four of them were going to have dinner together, though. Yang was not a fellow warrior, she was their daughter's girlfriend. She felt like there was a whole new weight there. Not that she thought they would kick her out of their lives and shout at her, but she did want to make a good impression on them as a person. More than just as that, but also as the person who wanted to spend the rest of her days with Blake.
"Tie or no tie?" She asked her girlfriend, who was sitting in their bed. Blake was wearing a long violet slitted dress and black high heels. Her short black hair was free, looking silky and beautiful as ever. Her yellow eyes contrasted with her clothes, and were as striking as ever. She looked gorgeous.
"Yang, I already told you. Whatever you decide will be okay with them. My parents love you already, you don't have to try to impress them." Blake answered, smiling softly at Yang. The blonde was dressed in brown leather shoes, dark jeans, a yellow button up and a purple vest. The shirt's sleeves were rolled up, showing both her forearms as she held the black bow tie with her right hand. Her hair was up in a ponytail, exposing the tattoo she had gotten with Blake's emblem on the right side of her neck. It matched Blake's own of Yang's emblem, which was in the left side of her neck.
"But... I don't know if it's overdressing to put it, or if it'd be too informal." Yang sighed, looking at the piece of clothing in her hand. Blake got up, going to the other's side. She kissed Yang's tattoo, and then the blonde's jaw. Then, she pulled away a bit and took the tie from her girlfriend's hand, wrapping it around her neck. With that, she pulled Yang to her, using the cloth. She kissed Yang on the lips, surprising her.
After a few seconds, Yang put her hands on the other's waist and pulled Blake's body flush to her. The faunus bit the brawler's lower lip and then licked it, making the taller girl moan lightly. Blake, as the tease she is, pulled away and left Yang wishing for more. The two looked into each other's eyes for a few moments, and the raven haired smiled at her partner.
"You look perfect to me, sunshine."
"Uh... then I guess it's settled, huh?" Yang said, a bit dreamy.
"It is." Blake chuckled. "Let's go?"
"Let's!"
-+-
As they entered the restaurant, they immediately spotted Kali and Ghira sat in a four chairs table by the window. The place was not that big; it was a cozy and beautiful pizza place that Blake and Yang had found after they moved back to Vale. They loved going there, and when Kali called telling them she and Ghira would spend some time in the city, the girls knew where they would take Blake's parents first. They didn't offer for the pair to stay in their apartment because it didn't have much room, though, so the older pair stayed at a hotel.
Blake and Yang walked to the table, and were met with opened arms. Ghira hugged Yang, while Kali held their daughter before they switched.
"Yang, sweetie, you look terrific!"
"T-thanks, Mrs. Belladonna! You look amazing yourself."
"Oh, please drop the formalities. We're already past that."
"Sure thing, ma'am. I mean, Kali."
"I think your girlfriend is nervous, Blake." Ghira commented to his daughter, grinning at his wife and at Yang.
"You had to see her earlier. She was about to explode."
"Was not!" Yang protested, as they sat in their chairs. "I just wanted to look good."
"As if that would take much effort." Blake smirked, nudging Yang's arm. Ghira served them some of the wine he had ordered before the girls arrived. "You're very good looking already."
"Uh... ehehe... yeah, I am."
"Her confidence in her looks matches Ghira's when we were your age." Kali smiled at them.
"It runs in the muscles club!" Ghira exclaimed, flexing. His biceps were designed by his black blazer, and were visibly enormous.
"Yeah!" Yang grinned back, flexing as well. "These guns can kill with how they look!"
"What are yours named? Mine are Mogli and Baloo."
"Mine are Nemeia and Lerna!"
"Now, now. You can bond over your 'guns' later." Kali said, smirking at them as Blake glared at some girl who was staring at Yang. "How have you two been doing here in Vale?"
"Oh, it's been great! I got a job at Beacon to teach combat to the students there. Kids are great, and I'm glad to be a part of their learning experience." Yang smiled at the image of her students. "Funny how I always saw myself running the world at twenty five, and now I'm stuck in Vale, teaching a bunch of kiddos."
"Life does have a lot of surprises for us in its course. We can either learn from them, and embrace the changes that come, or keep running and be stubborn." Ghira shared his wisdom. "I'm glad you were able to find something that, while surprising to you, makes you happy."
"So am I." Kali smiled at her daughter's girlfriend. "You deserve to be happy, Yang. You both do."
"Well, I'm not the celebrity here, though! Blake's the youngest senator ever elected in Vale, and is the first faunus to ever achieve that here!" Yang said, taking the attention off herself.
"It's not that big of a deal, Yang. And 'celebrity' is a bit of a reach. I'm at the service of the people of Vale. And I have a duty with the faunus and the Faunus Rights cause, which includes conciliating their interests to whatever is good to the rest of the people, combat prejudice, and make sure that the rallies don't become anything harmful to either of the parties." Blake explained.
"Well... you're also a famous writer now, so I still stand with celebrity." Yang teased.
"Famous writer?" Kali raised an eyebrow. "And why haven't your works reached Menagerie yet? The disrespect..."
"Um... i-it's nothing much yet, mom. I'm still, uh, starting here, in Vale before I get big."
"She writes smut and doesn't want it to get to you guys." Yang blurted out.
"Yang!" Blake shouted at her girlfriend, ears down and face color a bright shade of red. "That was one scene in one book. Why can't you let it go already?!"
Yang was laughing out loud, hands on her belly. Ghira and Kali were shocked for a few moments, before joining Yang in her laughter. "It always g-gets to her!" Yang managed to say as laughter dimmed to wheezing breaths.
"Oh my goodness." Kali wiped her tears of laughter away. "Blake, why didn't you just tell us already?"
"I-I... it's just... you're my parents, and... ugh!" Blake hid her face in her hands. "This is so embarrassing."
"C'mon, baby..." Yang put her left hand on Blake's exposed back, making the young woman shiver a bit. "It's not like they're mad."
"Yeah." Ghira agreed. "As much as I don't like to admit it, you're a grown woman now, Blake. If you write those... um... things, it's not a problem. You're free to do what you please with your writing."
"I agree with your father." Kali smiled at her. "And I would actually enjoy reading your books. Knowing you, they must be great."
"Oh, they are!" Yang's voice showed a lot of excitement. "I've beta read them all, and Blake is a great writer. She puts a lot of effort in them, and it shows that she practiced and read a lot to get where she is now. She's very hardworking, and deserves all the attention and praise her readers can give."
The eyes of Blake's parents shone in emotion. They were glad to see someone who talked about their daughter with such emotion, such affection. Yang was clearly in love with Blake, and every little movement showed it. There was no way in this world they would be able to hate this girl.
"I like her." Ghira said, pointing at Yang with a smile. "I like her a lot."
"You've been saying that ever since the moment you saw her back in Haven." Kali smiled.
"At least I got it right. Blake likes her too."
"Well, she liked Sun when they first arrived in Kuo Kuana."
"Kali, she glared at him more than I did."
"I glared at you a lot too."
"You stared at me with affection, Kali. Like, heart eyes and all."
"We're not debating this right now, are we?" Blake questioned through clenched teeth. "Sun was a friend, I already told you that."
"Blake," Yang put a hand on her girlfriend's arm, smiling at her. "We all know you crushed at him at some point. No need to get angry."
"I crushed on him, yeah. But I love you."
"I know, I know." Yang pecked Blake's cheek. "Just teasing, love."
Blake gave her a small smile, and gave Yang's lips a small kiss. Kali awed and Ghira smiled softly at their small display of affection, remembering their young years. They knew how it felt, being young and in love.
The night passed by smoothly, and they ate pizza together and laughed a lot. They were all enveloped by a pleasant atmosphere, feeling good in each other's presence. Yang's worries seemed very dumb to her by the time their dinner was over. Blake was right, Ghira and Kali already loved her. It was easy to be in their company, just like it was easy to be in Blake's. She could see many similarities between her girlfriend and her parents, and it was endearing.
"Well... this was a great night." Ghira said after giving both the young women a tight hug.
"The greatest." Kali smiled at them. "Now answer me, when's the wedding?"
"W-wedding?" Yang asked.
"Yeah." Ghira answered. "It's a generations old tradition in Menagerie. When one's girlfriend or boyfriend is introduced to their parents, they must get married. That is, if their intentions are good."
"Oh, um..." the blonde felt cornered.
"Yeah, Yang. If you wish to keep dating me, you must propose."
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know of that. I... uh... I don't have a proposal ring with me right now, b-but I'll get one once my payment is out this month! I meant no disrespect, I-"
She was cut off by laughter, and looked at the three faunus in front of her, confused. The three seemed to be having the time of their life. Did she say something funny? Did she sound too desperate? Why in the world were they laughing so hard at her?
"She... she actually fell for it!" Ghira's laughter was the loudest, deepest sound Yang had ever heard coming from him, beating even his loud roar.
"W-what...?" Yang let out, voice shaky in confusion, and she barely caught Blake as her girlfriend hugged her, giggling.
"Oh, Yang, you're too pure for this world..."
"I still don't get it. Is the marriage thing true or not?"
"Of course not, dear." Kali smiled at her. "Your time to marry is for the two of you to decide."
"Geez..." Yang sighed, a bit of relief. "I do propose some times while talking to myself, but I wasn't ready for the real thing all of sudden."
The four of them laughed a bit more, enjoying the aftermath of the prank. They said their goodbyes, and the black and yellow duo got in Blake's car, and headed home.
"See? It wasn't all that bad, was it?" Blake asked when they stopped in a red light.
"Not at all! Your parents are lovely. I really liked getting to meet them outside of a battle planning occasion." Yang smiled, and pecked Blake's cheek just before the light turned green. "About the proposal, though... do you really, y'know, think about it?"
Blake tuned a left before answering. "I mean... we do live together already. A marriage would be making it official, right?" Blake's response was a bit nervous.
"Yeah..."
"Yang?" Blake looked at Blake briefly. "You okay?"
"It's just... I promised myself I would only marry someone I was sure that would be with me for the rest of our days. That wouldn't leave when we had a child, or... or die all of sudden. It's... kind of a big deal to me." Yang rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't wanna do it unless you're not completely ready, though. I know you're the person I want to go into afterlife with, but I don't want you to feel pressured into marrying now."
"I..." Yang's confession made Blake's heart swell with affection. "Just a few more years. I don't really feel ready right now."
"Okay. Whenever you're ready. I don't think I'm ready yet, either."
Blake smiled at her girlfriend and reached her hand to give Yang's thigh a small squeeze, before wrapping it back around the steering wheel. Then, they kept talking about other subjects, such as random moments of the night. The two of them were glad they talked about the marriage item, and were grateful that Ghira and Kali brought it up. The dinner was such a nice encounter, one they would have in their memories for a long time.
#bumbleby#yang xiao long#blake belladonna#rwby#ghira belladonna#kali belladonna#bmblbweek#bumbleby week#bumblebyweek
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To move on 4 - RWBY FANFIC
Hello everyone. This is my fanfic Para Seguir Em Frente. I translated it because I received many visits from countries with English language. MY ENGLISH IS BAD AND YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Please comment. Originaly posted here https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13256016/1/To-move-on
The group began to fragment gradually the next day. With the lack of hunters to protect the population, Ruby, Blake, Yang and even Nora and Ren set off to different corners of Remnant to provide help. Weiss and Jaune were the only ones who stayed in Vale together with Oscar. Weiss remained to attend Oscar's magic classes. Jaune, on the other hand, heeded his mother's request to stay in town a little longer. Even so, he was often subjugating little grimms or escorting people from nearby villages.
So, as Ruby had suggested as a joke, he asked them both to take part in the informational video. The producer, who was responsible for analyzing the material before being distributed, became static not to work with one but three war heroes. It took them a few days to record, and the next Monday it was being published in the morning as he prepared for his first day of school.
- They showed your video today on the news. - Aunt May commented, stepping out of the kitchen as he entered. - I thought you said you'd cut off the part that Jaune burned his own shirt.
- I asked them to cut it. - Oscar replied, confused.
Serving coffee, he pulled out his scroll and searched for the latest news. His face and his friends were stamped in various matters, still referring to the feast of previous days. He ignored the gossip and found what he was looking for. For something published within hours, the number of views was high and continued to rise. He opened the video and started watching.
Welcome, citizens of Remnant. My name is Oscar Pine and I am here to teach you about magic.
With the return of the gods, the united conciel of all kingdoms determined our entrance into a new era. Today, we are in year 1 of this new age of magic.
The magic initially was a gift from the Dark God to mankind. And make no mistake: he is the Lord of Destruction, but he is as capable of creation as his older brother. Therefore, we can use magic to create or destroy at our will.
Like dust, magic has basic elements that can be combined to new elements and effects. These elements are fire, earth, air, water, light and darkness.
In immemorial times, magic was used by everyone, whether for household chores or to keep the dreaded grimms away. An ordinary person could keep a fire burning all winter, fed by his aura, day after day. In the same way an experienced person could consume a grimm, burning it at command.
Together, we will make those old days into today, for now I will teach you the basics of how to feel the magic within you, how to contain it and awaken it only when necessary.
You should take a deep breath and close your eyes. For someone accustomed to feeling their own aura, it is the same process. You could feel it, pulsing with your heart and moving in the rhythm of your breathing. It can be easily invoked by strong feelings. To contain it, you must contain yourself.
The magic wakes up early. The first signs of magic appear in children 8 to 10 years old, small but present. Parents should watch out for their children, help them understand it and contain it. Thanks to the awakening of magic, your aura is also unlocked without the need for outside help. As a natural protection, this prevents children from immediately being hurt by their own magic.
Now, to demonstrate the basic use of these elements, I invited two longtime friends of mine to assist me.
At first, it was all as suggested, but it was still kind of weird seeing and listening to himself. Weiss exhibited simple uses of water, air, and darkness. Simple things, such as conjuring up a small rain, pushing objects with a breath of air, or covering herself with a blanket of shadows in the bright light.
Jaune, on the other hand, was filled with times when he had asked to be cut. However, Oscar immediately understood why the publisher chose to keep them. Jaune fumbled with the magic, trying to conjure fire, earth and light. But instead of making himself a fool, Jaune laughed at his own faults, trying again until he got the expected result.
Even to the extent that he reduced his shirt to ashes.
- Uh, Oscar, I think I did something wrong. - He said shyly, a hand on the back of his neck and a dull smile.
They edited the scene, certainly, showing only a simple moment, but the exposed chest of Jaune was subject in good part of the evaluations of the video. And Oscar could not fault them! Jaune had become a male body ideal, with broad shoulders, defined and strong muscles. Even the scars he wore seemed strategically placed to decorate him like war medals.
At that moment his scholl ringed, switching the video over for a call from Jaune himself. Oscar answered.
- OSCAR! WHAT THEY DID WITH OUR RECORDINGS ?! I LOOK RIDICULOUS! YOU HAVE TO TAKE THIS OF THE AIR!
- Um, Jaune ...
- I WOKE UP WITH MY SISTERS CALLING ME TO TALK ABOUT THAT! THEY WILL USE THAT AGAINST ME FOR YEARS!
- Ahh, Jaune ... Jaune. Jaune! - Oscar finally managed to cut off the blonde's whine. - Did you get to see the comments? No one thought you were an idiot.
- What?! How could they not find it ?! - Oscar heard rumblings, maybe Jaune fumbled with his own scroll in an attempt to see what Oscar was referring to. - Oh here! The first comment is already about me! Listen! "Gods forgive me, but as Jaune Arc is soo ho-" I'M WHAT?! "He's so strong! And he did not need magic to defeat hordes of grimms..." Well, there was a horde all at once ... "I wanted him to..." Okay, that should be censored!
- Like I said, - Oscar said, stifling a laugh with a sip of coffee. - I think our short course was a success greater than expected thanks to you.
- Well...
- I'm sorry, but I can not stay much. I must leave for the University. Classes started soon.
- Um, right, I... Well, I'll talk to the editor later. Good luck on your first day Oscar.
- Thank you Jaune. Have a nice day you, too. And try not to be kidnapped by a fan club or anything.
- Wait, what?
Oscar laughed and hung up anyway. Finishing his coffee, he simply walk to the University, a few blocks away. Unlike days before, when he had gone to visit the place to repair his classes and record the video, people would stop in the street to watch him go by. He was known, of course, but day after day the reaction of the citizens became increasingly obvious. Eyes widened and mouths fell, whispering loudly to his companions about him.
Oscar had never experienced such a situation, but the feeling was familiar. Memories of times when Ozma was king came to him. Days when he was held on a pedestal, commanding thousands of lives and yet solitary.
He lost himself so deeply in his thoughts that he just woke up to feel a small tug on his coat. Surprised, he lowered his eyes to a blond girl, eight or nine years old, looking at him with a determined expression. Oscar could see who his mother should be, meters behind, terrified of her actions.
- Excuse me sir. - She said in a high childish voice. She said the words carefully, trying to put into practice the good manners she learned. - Are you Master Oscar?"
- Yes I am. - He bent down so that his eyes were as tall as the girl. - What can I do for you, miss?
- Viper said I can not do magic and I'm crazy for thinking I can. - She said, pointing back. This time he noticed another child, clinging and half hidden behind the adult's skirts.
- We can all do magic now, little one. It was a gift from the dark god, as I said, to each one of us. Even for you, and for Viper too.
- But I could not do it in the morning. - She said, her determination failing.
- Using magic is difficult, but I know you will soon, as long as you do not give up. - He said affectionately. Oscar saw many children on their travels, and it was comforting to see joy and not fear, now that the greatest evil was gone. - So even if you fail, day after day, try again. It's ok?
- Yes sir! I'll try my best! - She smiled widely.
- Great. Now you should go, your mother seems worried.
- Oh, Mrs. Poppins is not my mother. I do not have one. - She said simply. - But you're right. See you later Master Oscar.
She said good-bye and ran back to the woman who was waiting for her. For some reason, Oscar imagined she was serious about saying 'See you later.' Maybe it was not the last time he saw the little blond girl.
The small meeting distracted his mind and left him with a faint smile on his lips until he had himself with his students. It was almost comical to call them students, all of them teachers and hunters older than himself. There were five of them for each kingdom, and Kali Belladonna herself had come from Menagerie, with two others. He stood in the center of the room, in front of the great projector, and resorted to Ozma's years of experience.
- Good morning friends and thanks again for joining me in such a short time. We have an important mission ahead of us.
With them, Oscar spent the day teaching magic and planning how this knowledge would be passed on to the people. They outlined how to add it as a new subject to the common school curriculum and hunter academies. Even during lunch, or after class, everyone continued to talk, animated by the world of possibilities open to Remnant.
Weiss was one of the most amazed at these possibilities. Oscar saw in her the desire to discover all the nuances of magic. She had dinner at his house that, just to argue a bit more, so Oscar went to bed late that night. Just as he was about to fall asleep he saw Ruby's message. Ignoring the butterflies spinning in his stomach, he heard the message.
- Hey Oscar! I saw your video today! You were awesome! The people are calling you Master Oscar on the streets! And you really took off Jaune's shirt! I do not believe that! - She speaks fast and lively. His joy warmed Oscar's chest. Stifled voices in the cast interrupted her for a moment. - Well, I need to go now. There is still much to be done here. Well ... See you, Oscar!
That was enough for Oscar to have sweet dreams all night.
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Amazing
I loved everything about today. for my first time ever tripping i wouldnt have wanted to do it with anyone other than the one and only Sydney, I felt everything i was looking at and there were moments when all i could decipher was the ground pulsating underneath my body as i sprawled in the forest of hoover. Everything was so real and living and it really made me realize that everything else literally doesnt matter. my friends are so amazing and made sure i didnt die and i dont think its because they wanted to or had to but its because they wanted me to be alive and you know thats why were all here. my friends are all so supportive and amazing i couldnt ask for anyone better. MGMT WHEN YOU DIE. all i know. is that acid is amazing. we went out there. WE WERE SO NOT READY CJNDJNDJK WE LITERALLY HAD NO WATER OR PHONES WE COULDA PASSED OUT BUT WE MADE IT. Mother earth herself granted us with Water. im so grateful for this beautiful place we live on. literally i was sitting on a piece of the world with my best friend for hours. watching the water come out of the dam looking like a whole ass daisy blooming in slow motion in front of my eyes but in reality it was moving so fast and it wasnt a flower but water fucking flowing. the water sounded like kali uchis voice. soothing and almost spiritual.i wish i could still see everything moving. -see you again tyler the creator- can i get a kissssssssss - back to the water, i def cried looking at it. we cried a lot. it felt beautiful. “is it raining or are these tears?” we literally wouldnt stop crying and thinking it was raining and now that i think of it i really wish it rained but we can save that for another time. our trip was so random but expected ya know. i asked sydney if she wanted to trip because i was thinking about buying some and it just HAPPENED. SYDNEY IS THAT BITCH. i really needed this trip day so i can relax and say fuck everything!!! you already know i got home though (after being gone for an entire fucking week in florida) threw all my shit into the washer and got all my goodies cleaned so i can be cutie again. then tripped. lmao we love a responsible queen. im currently listening to music and writing this. having such a fun time at 3:05 in the morning and i got home at 1:30. i bet you if i text sydney she would still be awake right now. i have terrible lock jaw but thats honestly it man. this is what im listening to right fucking now. i dont know whos going to read this. but if you are. i love you. i need you so. this song is adorable i just started typing it out lmao i feel like i need to sleep soon but i have so many things flowing through my mind i sort of want to play around on tumblr. all i want to say is thank you. we are more than amazing and the thots and nothingness that are coming out of my brain right now only make sense to me and thats okay. life. is. amazing, ohio really isnt too bad. it gave me the exact trip i was wanting my whole life. rolling around in a field in barely any clothing looking up at the sky watching the clouds turn into faces and look as if they are going to fall out of the sky onto me in a big embrace. i wanted to hug the earth, i hugged carlo in those moments. FLASH FORWARD to when we were in a car. im telling you me and syd shouldnt have been un super vised but we made it home safe and im going to add those videos onto here sometime. i took a lot of cool videos and i wish i had sydneys camera so i could mess around with all the footage and make something. i definitely need to go somewhere i can submerge my body into a perfectly warm form of water next time. the beach was fucking amazing last week too like i feel like i didnt get to experience it with anyone but lex. I started crying at one point in the trip because lex was not there. i cant believe my bff is out in florida doing what i did a year ago in california like that was a real life trip. i felt like even though me and lex are so far apart we still got each other and thats what its all about. next time i trip it will be with lex and we will cry and hug so much. im crying typing this right now. thinking about my best friend and how i love him with every piece of my HEART. thats how i feel about cheerleading too. YO I DID A BACK FLIP ON ACID BTW FUCK WITH ME BITCHES WE GOT IT ON TAPE AND THAT JUST SHOWS I WILL FOREVER BE ABLE TO FLIP MY BODY. im going to continue doing it forever. omgggggg midway through my trip STEPHANIE TEXTED ME and asked me to go to the gym TO TEACH A CLASS!!!!!!! i said no so fast. i almost freaked out and told her i was on acid but that would have ruined my vibe so thank god i didnt. but who else would that happen to. literally just me. i felt like i was in that episode of broad city where they eat shrooms and had to go to her bosses work to deliver her macaroons. this so throughout this piece i have been adding random songs that have begun playing on my youtube that have distracted but also helped me throughout this process. im shocked at how i did not get horny throughout my trip. ive been so sexuallly frustrated for no reason at all. i dont need to be frustrated over something like that and literally everyone was on their periods so women rule anyways!!! women are just as great as men and we can reproduce a fucking child in my stomach which is awesome but like why would anyone need that right now you know. basically what im saying is i got my period and we are working well. we as in me and my body. i had a very disassociating trip in my opinion. i felt as if i was just a soul settling in the warmth and comfort of my body. i felt as if i could step out of my body and observe it. i always want to feel the way i did as i was looking at everything. to conclude my flow of thoughts and nothingness i will leave you with this, you are amazing and alive and know that i am sending every possible positive force i have in myself to you. goodnight.
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When She Became the Monster
Requested by @arcticmalfoy
Editor’s note: A big thank you to my best friend who helped me with the “blank blank...” just keep reading and blame the emo shit on her, she’s amazing though I love her. Follow her on twitter: @dissolvethan
Eleven finally entered the cabin after telling Mike to meet her there, two hours ago. He waited the entire time sitting in silence on the couch. He felt absolutely terrible for what he had done, but he had a reason for it… he also understood why she would be angry, and why she would scream at him. Because he deserved it. He deserved all of it.
Eleven barged in the room, stomping her white converse across the wooden floor as she shut the door loudly with her mind.
Mike gulped some air before standing up from the couch ready to explain himself. “El I-”
“Sit down!” She ordered. And so he did.
Eleven paced back and forth across the room, her footsteps being insync with the clock ticking made Mike feel a little uneasy.
“Mike why? Why would you do that?” she finally let out in a whisper.
He tried to hold her hands and pull her closer towards him but she took a step back. “I just- I didn't want to risk losing you again.”
She felt more angrier between his words. “But you made me risk loosing sister.”
Mike shook his head “I didn't mean it like that! Look El, she lives in Chicago and it's not so far from here. I had to tell you she was somewhere else… somewhere far out of your reach-”
“You lied.” she interrupted with a cracked voice. Eleven could feel herself breathing a bit heavier, her heart beating even faster.
Mike felt absolutely heartbroken to hear those words come out of her mouth. You lied. He was her first friend ever, the first person to tell her the most sacred friendship rule of all: friends don't lie. And here he was now, looking up at her nearly in tears. Regretting everything in seconds.
“El you just have to- just listen to me please” Mike began to feel a little shaky. He couldn't say the wrong thing to her, he couldn't lose her again. “I had to tell you she was far away, because- because I knew you would try to see her again. And after what Hopper said… about how the bad men are still looking for you. I just don't want to risk it again.”
“Mike! She's my sister!” Eleven replied with a tear streaming down her face. “She's my only family left.”
Mike dropped his head down and moved it from left to right.
She crouched down in front of him, and lifted his chin up to hers. “Mike, you have to understand…” her lips began to tremble. “Imagine you lost Nancy. Imagine you lost her forever.”
“That's different!” He quickly said. “I've lived with Nancy all my life, she's my biological sister. I'll obviously love her more than-” He cut himself off.
Her breath got hotter as she blew some of his hairs out of his face. She stood back up and looked down at him. “TAKE IT BACK!” She screamed as he jumped not expecting her to.
“Take what back?” Mike exclaimed.
“TAKE IT BACK… take back what you said. About how you love Nancy more than I love sister! TAKE IT BACK!” her screams began to linger.
Mike quickly stood up, keeping the coffee table between the two of them. “WAIT! Eleven I didn't mean it like that! I swear I didn't mean that.” He tried to explain.
Eleven violently shook her head back and forth, covering her ears from all the loud flashbacks her mind was unintentionally going through. Flashbacks of her killing people in the lab, breaking walls, breaking silence, hurting Lucas, flipping the van,moving the train, closing the gate, crying and crying until it all finally stopped. “IT HASN'T BEEN EASY MIKE!” She screamed.
He took a deep breath out, trying to keep his voice calm. “I know El. I know, but you can't just disappear from town one night and expect things to stay normal!”
“I only did because YOU made me think she was in trouble!” She jabbed her pointer finger into his chest.
“I only said she moved… that didn't mean any sort of trouble. THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU LEAVE TOWN NOT TRUSTING MY WORD!” Mike's voice got louder within seconds.
“HOW COULD I TRUST YOUR WORD! HOW COULD I TRUST YOU WHEN YOU LIE TO ME!”
“YOU TRUST ME WHEN I'M MEANT TO PROTECT YOU! OKAY, THAT'S ALL I WANTED TO DO! I COULDN'T DO IT FOR THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THREE DAYS DAMN IT SO LET ME DO IT NOW!” He screamed and cried all at once.
“I DON'T NEED PROTECTING! I COULD KILL MIKE! I DONE IT BEFORE AND I COULD DO IT AGAIN!” She screamed back.
Water formed between Mike's eyes. He actually felt scared to be in a room with her, with how angry she was feeling it was unpredictable for what she could actually do. “El you don't mean that. You're not a monster.”
Eleven sobbed some more, holding her ears from all the noisy flashbacks to stop. “MAYBE I AM THE MONSTER!” the house began to rumble. “MAYBE THIS IS WHO I AM. WHO KALI TAUGHT ME TO BE. I'M ANGRY MIKE! SO ANGRY!”
He stepped forward “At me?”
“AT EVERYTHING!” She screamed back. “KALI HELPS ME. SHE HELPS ME USE IT FOR MORE POWER!” the furniture vibrated out of place.
Mike was in tears watching her scream and breakdown. She was becoming harder and harder to handle. What scares him the most was the fact that those secret agent services that came by his house the night he lost her warned him about this. They warned him how she was dangerous, how she was out of control, how she lied to him, and despite all of that he still chose her. And even now, he will only believe her.
“El you don’t need more power. You don’t need any power at all. That’s what makes you unique, yes. That’s what makes you Eleven. But you use it for good, and only good. Kali is teaching you the wrong things, you have to understand… you have to stay away from-”
“KALI HELPED ME CLOSE THE GATE MIKE! Okay! Without her, Will wouldn’t be alive! Would that be better for you?!”
Mike dropped his shoulders, everything she was saying… it wasn't her. The cause of her destruction wasn't because of her. It was everyone around her, and he realized at that moment he was actually hurting her more. He softened up his voice “El, I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry do you understand?”
With her heating rage, she did not understand. The one boy she ever loved, did not agree with her. The one boy she ever loved, lied to her. She hated it, but she didn't hate him. She hated that he lied to her, and would try to keep her apart from her family. But she couldn't understand his reasoning behind. She chose to not understand, but instead go back to anger as her only use of self defense.
“I DON'T CARE MIKE! YOU LIED!” She cried. “You once told me ‘friends don't lie’. But here you are, BREAKING YOUR OWN RULE!” She walked into him and started punching and slapping.
No telekinesis powers were used, just the physical form of expressing human anger. Mike could take it without getting hurt. He tried to quiet her down by rubbing her arms and back, but she continued to hit him.
"FRIENDS DON'T LIE!" she screamed, slapping Mike's chest.
"FRIENDS DON'T LIE! FRIENDS DON'T LIE! FRIENDS DON'T LIE!" she repeated over and over as she kept slapping his arms. He tried take a hold of her hands. All he wanted to do was pull her in a hug, and whisper sorry one hundred times.
"El please. El I'm sorry. Just stop! Just stop! Please." Mike hovered his body over hers, almost having her between his arms.
"FRIENDS DON'T LIE! FRIENDS DON'T LIE!" she screamed some more, as her cries grew even louder. Windows shattered around them, doors violently swung open hitting the walls.
"FRIENDS DON'T LIE!!!!!" she screamed one last time before sending Mike ten feet into the wooden wall. His head smashing against the ceiling as his lanky body fell unconscious to the ground.
"Oh my God! Mike!" She screamed running towards him as fast as she could. She slid on her knees towards his limpy body, gently picking him up by his upper half. “Mike” she said in a quiet whisper.
She broke out into more tears seeing his hair soaked in a pool of his own blood on the floor. She did that to him, she became the monster. Everything he was trying to protect her from, she became.
She sobbed quietly, holding the unconscious boy in her arms. His head resting on her shoulder, staining her flannel with fresh blood. “Mike.” she whispered again into his ear as she stroked the back of his hair with her hand. “What did I do.”
When Eleven finally felt the weight of his body taking small breaths into hers she cried in relief, with a broken smile. “Mike… I'm so sorry.”
With his eyes closed, he just continued to breath on her shoulder.
The rooms sound had entirely focused to his breathing and her quiet sobs repeating “sorry” over and over again. And in that moment she hated herself more than she ever had before. Her anger did make her more powerful, but it hurt and destroyed the one thing she loved the most.
Eleven clenched onto his hair even tighter, holding him closer as she buried her cheek in his. She shut her eyes tight, as all the horrible memories came flooding back into her mind.
You have a wound, Eleven… she hears as she crushes the can of coca-cola. A terrible wound… as she kills the two guards at the lab, and kills the person driving the van towards her and her friends. And it's festering… as she makes everyone surrounding her friends with guns at the school bleed to death. And it will grow… as she hurts the man at the gas station, and the man who once hurt her mom but now has a family. Spread… she hears as she remembers hurting her friend Lucas. Eventually, it will kill you… she finally sees her papa saying those last words to her. She opens her watery eyes to find Mike still weak in her arms.
Hopper came back home earlier that night, he drove and carried Mike to the hospital with Eleven following shortly behind. Everything else was a blur to her after that, she wanted to believe it was a nightmare… that she never really hurt Mike. But the reality was she did, and now he was in a hospital bed all stitched up because of her. He would wake up soon enough, and the entire time Eleven remained seated at his bedside holding his hand.
Mike slowly opened his eyes, first seeing the lights in the ceiling. His sight became focused when Eleven came into frame, hovering over him with a smile.
“Mike! Mike, you're okay.” she softly whispered as she brushed through his hair and kissed his cheek.
“Eleven?” he weakly asked. “El? I- I’m so sor-”
“No. No, I'm sorry.” she quickly said before a tear escaped her left eye. She began to shake her head from side to side. “Mike I hurt you. I became the monster.” she cried holding his hands up to her cheeks in a prayer.
He pulled her arms and kissed the back of her hand over and over again. “No El, listen to me okay? You are not the monster, you are never the monster.”
Eleven continued to quietly cry, “But I hurt you” she repeated as her nose began to bleed.
“It’s okay, everyone gets angry once in awhile. And look, you had every right to be mad at me.” he replied wiping the blood from her nose. “and next time you ever feel like that. Don't let anyone hold you back. Okay? Scream, cry, use your powers. You need to get it out, but maybe not at me. I mean… breaking the doors and windows wasn't so bad right?”
He made her laugh.
“I mean maybe it hurt Hoppers paycheck a little, but you'll learn to control it next time.”
Eleven shook her head agreeing. “Mike, I didn't understand before, but I do now.”
Mike gave a confused frown.
“You stop me from being the monster. You were right. This whole time, you were right.”
“I wasn't though, I lied and friends don't lie, even boyfriends.”
“Yes, even boyfriends.” Eleven repeated softly, shaking her head.
Mike gave her a small smile. “If you want to see your sister. Tell me first, and I'll come with you. I just want you to be safe.”
“Me too.”
Mike gently stroked her forearm to her wrist, rubbing her hand in small circles with his thumb. “I don't ever want to fight with you again.”
Eleven looked down at their hands, then back at his eyes. “Me neither.”
With saddened eyes he said “I can't promise we’ll never fight again though.”
She shook her head understanding his words, “It's okay.”
He pulled her closer and spoke to her as gentle as possible “But just promise me this- promise me you'll stay safe no matter what.”
“I promise.” she replied, giving him a small peck on the lips. Mike sunk deeper into his pillow.
Eleven brushed his hair back as he fell asleep to her touch. “Get rest Mike.”
She dimmed the lights, and turned around one last time before closing the door. There was something about how peaceful he looked, how safe and protected he was in that bed. She wanted to keep that image of him in her memory forever. Because in that moment, she wasn't a monster.
Mike was right about her, she will never become what Dr. Brenner, Kali, the Ives family or the Demogorgan intended her to be. Because she was El. El Hopper, and that was all.
#requested#stranger things#mileven#mileven headcanon#couple fight#eleven hopper#mike wheeler#monster#demogorgan#st headcanon#mileven fic#finn wolfhard#millie bobby brown#mine
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Well... here we are again.
Did you miss me?
I guess I’ll always come back here. I’ll always be just a sad girl on the internet, and honestly, I’m here for her. (Although, I do use they/themme pronouns now.. wassaaaaap post-binaarrrryy!) I always come back here when I need to speak in a way that feels good; a way that I constantly ignore because I still think people don’t care (but here’s the secret: it doesn’t matter if no one cares. It only matters if I do.) Also, I haven’t had a working laptop in over a year because Apple really has all of us by the balls. I digress. I’m rambling to avoid as per usual. My mouth is always too fast while my fingers are painfully slow. My mind is a cosm traveling in no direction in particular. Well, maybe it is traveling in a direction... inward, toward itself.
I have a lot to say. No one is surprised.
It usually takes me a while, but I always find what I’m looking for by looking back. I would say it’s a cool little trick, but it’s not -- it’s kind of fucked up.
Ehhh, I’m working through it.
I did run into this post though and really fell into it.
So... five years ago to my five years ago. Here we go.
Hey Kirsten,
You actually did change your name finally. You found it so beautifully too, like it was made for you. You’ve emerged into this new world you’ve built for yourself as kali diwa, and it fits in every possible way. It was right after a free POC Yoga class at the East Bay Meditation Center (Yes, you still do yoga, yes, you only do it with other brown folx around, and yes, seriously fuck yes, you live in Oakland. And bitch, you fucking love it.) where your teacher chose to honor Kali Ma, imploring her to burn all things that no longer serve you. It struck a chord, a strong vibration of both nostalgia and enlightenment, then you went home to watch Bourdain go to the Philippines again and that fool showed you exactly what you wanted to see: Kali - the ancient Filipino martial art that is intrinsically tied to the resistance of your homeland and your blood. How you could say no when revealed itself to you. And the best part? It’s yours, fully.
You’re in Europe now, you as in 2015 you, and I know you feel so many things right now, but it’s okay. These are lessons you need to learn. You’re always exactly where you need to be at all times. You say that a lot now in 2020 and people kind of hate it, but they also love to hear it so... you’re gonna keep saying it. It’s a good reminder. This trip will be unpacked over and over and over again. So keep those eyes wide and that heart open - it will show you truth.
After Europe, you come home with nowhere to go, but back to LA. You lived in a hostel again, which you didn’t want to do after living at that atrocious AirBnB situation, you know the one where there the host used a completely different name than what was given to you on the website, where you were told to tell people that you were “just a friend staying,” where there was no doorknob when you moved in, where the upstairs roommate had to walk through your room to get to theirs, where you only had a broken hot plate and lived off of sardines, and the windows had a privacy film on them that was made entirely of scotch tape, and that weird landlord that smelled homeless wouldn’t stop asking you if you were a lesbian (FYI, you kind of are so that fool clocked the shit out of you -- also never do that again). But after that, you lived with a slew of equally, if not more, horrible roommates that made you really question what the fuck you’re doing in LA, being unemployed, doing comedy, and generally just end up feeling like a loser.
It’s okay. People find you and it's very kind. You end up dedicating a few years of your life to Philz, yes that Philz, New Manhattan Philz. It’s amazing until it’s not. They sell out hard. You didn’t even know what a Mint Mojito was before you started (which makes sense, there would be no reason for you to have ordered it before) but bitch bet you know what it is now.
You finally dump stop talking to Colin, but then you tie yourself to some weird men. It’s gonna suck, but you do this a lot. You needed to, they were important to your growth and how you relate to your self worth. You’re also just horny as shit so, fuck it the fuck up. You really lean into being sexually liberated in a different way. It’s still really hard and confusing.
In a year, you’re gonna spend Valentine's day realizing that you’re falling in love with yourself. Amidst the chaos of your love life, you find you.
You find good homes that teach you so much care and kindness that it makes you want to scream. You and Yadira (one of the best roommates you’ve ever had) spend a wild summer together and then both end up living in the Bay - she inspires you to move back. She literally just texted you back right now so you can FaceTime tomorrow. It’s sick.
You spend a year listening which doesn’t make sense now, but it will. It saves you, creates a new world for you that actually feels good and real. People hold you here, hold you how you needed it then. It’s as full as you can muster and it feels good until it doesn’t. So you do what you do best, you move.
I know right? Again? This is the part where you go back home. It’s the best decision you’ve made so far.
Honestly? Honestly.
You come home to go back to school. City College of all places. Wild, I know. But you know education has always been a pillar in your life. One of your favorite feelings of all time is actively feeling your brain take in new information. Learning is like magic and you want to experience it constantly. Also it’s free, which makes it socialist as fuck. You dive deep into social justice, a place you never thought you’d be, but honestly after Europe, after that last year in LA, it all makes so much sense. You are supposed to be here. The classroom is a fucking stage and you live for it. Nothing makes you hornier than a good debate and the sound of your own voice. Everything just feels better when you do it with your mouth. You join the sexual health educator program, end up being a healthy relationship counselor (I know - healthy relationships - this is where you do that learning thing), and working in sexual violence. It’s like Law and Order SVU, only not at all. It’s healing, it feels like good work as a survivor. You realize that comedy was never your girl, sex was. (Honestly, it’s both - it can be an “and” statement; you’re very complex. You also say that a lot now, again still annoying, but good reminders, so people can’t really get mad at you… right?) You also dive deep into gender stuff, racial stuff, all the good things. You start to become full.
You feel yourself becoming a whole human being and then the world rewards you with a sweet lil queerbb. You’ll like them, they’re from Hawaii and came back to SF by way of Portland. It’s gay af and you’re into it. It’s kind, the healthiest relationship you could muster in puppy love. You feel how young it is, how it’s mostly about sex and suddenly, it doesn’t feel as good. It didn’t have the longevity to match you. You break it off kindly, and you’re thankful for it. A gentle experience for your first relationship ever, at 25. But then you spiral a little. The queer scene in Oakland is good but also a complete mess, but so are you. You go back to Spain, it feels like torture. You run into that pub crawl dude you fell in love with (read: made a fool of yourself in front of by getting ostentatiously drunk and throwing yourself onto him. Remember? It would have had happened like… last week) and it is sufficiently awkward. And you cry. You cry literally everywhere.
26 is the year that you definitely just lean into tears… and it won’t stop. *insert thumbs up emoji*
You get a therapist, you lose a best friend, and you find yourself again and again and again. You only take what serves you.
You realize that sex, your favorite girl, has deceived you for years. She has told you that this feeling is the one you crave, but it’s empty, housed in the desires of men and nothing for you. You have had enough. You have had a taste of what healthy sex can look like and nothing else is as sweet. It’s unfair. After 12 years of having sex, it’s only at 26 where you know that this is true. It’s so fucked up. So you stop.
Really.
It’s the most rewarding and devastating journey you’ve ever taken and it’s still. so. fucking. hard.
You create bonds with people who live close to your soul in a way that has never felt as real as it does now. You find connection everywhere and it’s electrifying. You feel powerful all the time.
Once, you had a full moon ceremony in your backyard in Oakland (this is what you do now because you’re so annoyingly and unbelievably queer) and your friend Tiara, who you instantaneously knew you needed in your life, looked you in the eye and said “You’ve spent your entire life being fire, it’s time to become ocean.” It changed you. You listened.
You have your dream job, working in the gayest place on earth, besides Disneyland, cause you already did that one. You work in a queer sexual health clinic, fully tied into the make up what makes San Francisco great, but also so fucking complicated and it feels good. Your job is driving a huge RV bus and swabbing buttholes all over town. It’s brilliant. You’re on the precipice of change. You feel more alive than you ever have in your entire life. You feel in control.
Everything has felt so special and complete, growing every day. And you’re just so goddamn thankful. You feel lucky, which I bet is super weird to hear considering you drunkenly just considered having sex with that short German guy in a suit who wants to be Barney Stintson. (Do you regret that? Yes. You do.)
And in the face of all this gratitude, the world is still so unbelievably hard.
We are in a bizarre time where you’re currently stuck in a pandemic quarantine with the funniest roommate and some kid who walked on to your bus one day to get his asshole swabbed. You just spend your 28th birthday in lock down. It was weird, and beautiful, and kind. You cried like you always do on your birthday, but it might be one of your favorites. It was complex, just like you.
And you currently feel like your body is betraying you in ways that you did not at all foresee. And it fucking hurts.
You’re reckoning right now. You’re doing a lot of reckoning with things you thought were done, things you thought you’ve laid to rest years ago. Things that felt fine, but they surfaced in spaces you didn’t expect. It’s unkind, but you don’t have to be. You are full like the moon. Just because you can’t see her wholly, does not mean that she isn’t always full. You are always full.
Authenticity is the key to being taken seriously. Remember that one, you’re gonna need it.
Love you, boo boo
kali diwa
P.S. You don’t bone as hard as you did before, but there’s more days to be had... it’ll find you.
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Words with Somanyfeels Part 2
Shot by @samuel_thecanadian
Julian aka Somanyfeels abilities with self-directed piecing of artistic trinkets is something we here at beatsfortheill admire about the various artists we get the opportunity to explore future readings and words with, and the big moves Julian is making under his accomplice is beyond the appreciation we are able to give via our blog, but this globetrotter isn't far of more global recognition.
As with writers' block on the mind for myself and then to suddenly, with true suave, have Julian, display his skills toying with human mood after my rough couple of weeks with a mix that truly helped me explore the various healing avenues that music can relate to us as individuals, going through everyday struggles.
So without further delay, let us take a moment to re-explore words with Julian a good friend and previous words with, and found out more about what his mix segment- "Endeavour v1" means to him and let us also dabble in his future endeavors and dreams, so with appreciate enjoy the following words with Somanyfeels.
Let us start with a few random generals to get the conversation flowing, a bit like a repeat from the last time we shared words, so let us see if things have changed up since then?
Favorite Food: A plate full of Al Pastor Tacos with a lot of lime and some horchata.
Favorite Beverage: Matcha tea
Favorite thing to do when you get downtime by yourself: Take a Nap
Best place to enjoy a wine and view in Las Vegas: Highly recommend any desert area outside of Las Vegas. I love taking pictures and being outdoors with friends. There are some amazing views of the sunset at this place I go right by my house. My friends and I head down to the wash area by this singular tiny mountain and we just talk about life as the golden hour begins and ends.
Favorite piece of clothing and, why you hold a special bond with it: My favorite piece of clothing is actually jewelry. I have this blue-painted silver medallion that I received as a gift while exploring the medina in Fez, Morocco. It reminds me there is more going on in this world than what you see before you, and to try travel as much as you can.
Best song to break it down to at the moment: I would like to mention two tracks for this topic… KALI YUGA - GHOSTMANE & CLAMS CASINO & ANYMORE - FLAUNT EDWARDS
Best song to chill to on a hectic day: THUNDERSTORM - PRODUCERBOIBRAD
Favorite song to listen to at the moment: EARL (INSTRUMENTAL) - EARL SWEATSHIRT
Best Genre of music to listen to when craving emotional connection with one's self: Ambient music heals the soul.
Views on politics: American politicians should be prioritizing the environment over all other political issues. I also believe Americans bought into the illusion that we are in control of what our government does for the countries best interests. I’m not entirely sure about the rest of the world though, so I doubt my opinion has much weight with how things are going nationally and internationally. I think we need to just keep ourselves informed with the use of reliable news resources and we should also put more focus on keeping our planet as clean as we can.
Views on drinking milk throughout the day: Almond milk in a coffee, of course, but if it’s hot often where you are, like it is in Vegas, I would suggest sticking to water. I also think about that scene in Anchorman when Ron loses Baxter!
The Rabbit Hole - Shot By Rosemary Fajardo
Thanks for answering those little rants, so let us get onto your music.
You have been guest hosting on radio, sharing tunes with the world,
and also making some of the best blends and mixes I have ever had the privilege of listening to, much love.
What keeps you moving forward with your goals within the music scene?
Also what have been some of the best tools you have had at hand reach when it comes to creating and delivering quality sets and blends?
Thank you so much for the kind words about this particular craft of mine <3 I definitely feel that my friends who also make music in my circle, are the people who keep me closest to my love of mixing music and playing shows.
Witnessing their work ethic grow with wisdom is some type of magic.
I certainly was not expecting to reach this magnitude within the Las Vegas music culture and I was at one time hosting my own radio show but decided to pursue a different route and become more intimate and technical with my musical presentations.
Hosting your own radio show takes A LOT of time, which at the time was stressing me out. I felt like the quality of work I was putting out on a weekly became biweekly then seldom the basis was in decline.
To people out there looking to pick up radio, it is extremely fun and teaches you a lot about communication and self-reliance.
I also think it's totally fine to hit the reset button to keep your spirit up. You can always revisit your past projects and continue to pursue your love for the craft.
Mixing live in front of crowds while on stage is what I love doing now.
When mixing, I can use all Traktor controllers but am also familiar with Pioneer CDJ’s and controllers.
Traktor is my main resource for feeling comfortable, well most comfortable on stage.
I stick to using remix decks, 2-4 channels depending on the routine, with effects from both my controller and the house mixer.
Do you always have to schedule in time or does it just fall into a routine, creating I mean?
It is at random for mixes I create at home. When I feel it, I'll just go for it, but for shows, it does take a sort of scheduling presence and sorting of skills to make sure I feel prepared for the upcoming event.
Keep in mind, not all shows are the same, so you have to really organize and then re-organize your playlists depending on the crowds you will be playing for and the vibe the event promoter will be expecting.
In the end, as a DJ I believe firmly that it is your job to be the glue between artists before and after you.
You have to learn to look up at the faces in front of you too, sort of read how people are reacting to your song selection and with that, you have to try and adapt on the fly as much as possible.
I’m still trying to perfect this lol.
It has to be mentioned, you are quite a gifted photographer.
I had a scroll with a good friend through your shoots and you def know your angles, much love.
How far do you feel you've come from first experimenting with a camera to what I believe you are now, a self-proclaimed skill shooter down the lens?
Also, what is your favorite style of shoot to portray a scene via the lens?
Also, what's your preference time to shoot: Night or Day?
You are always learning and adapting with a cam.
I absolutely love it.
I don’t think that I am that profound just yet since there is so much more I need to understand, but if you enjoy light painting images, then I would reference my work to you :) I am a night-time shooter mostly so I'd say night time with the exception of a good golden hour or blue hour shoot. Night shots feel like you and your subject are the only ones on the planet, and the ability to light up the night with a light source is pure sorcery!
It reminds me a lot of Magic: The Gathering. a lot of the graphics from those cards inspire me to utilize an experimental light source.
Let's bring it back to the reason I am asking to have words with you again, and that reason is your creation, with essence -a new mix, titled "Endeavor v1".
It has to be one of my favorites, of many great mixes by yourself, and I am privileged to be featuring "Endeavor v1" on our SoundCloud alongside this interview, link to the mix is here.
Honestly, thank you!, you actually got me onto a few new artists that I had never heard of thanks to the beauty.
People like marrow with Kafia, Otrapic, and Carlo Frick; all artists that are truly pushing diverse waves and instilling moods all over, that I was yet to hear before Endeavor thank you! While we are on the topic, what are your personal views on these artists in the making?
These artists are great and I highly recommend that you listen to them!
Otrapic’s sound resonates with me so much. As much as I love that hard gritty and ground splitting bass sound from artists in my library, the storytelling element that Otrapic has just levels me out and makes me want to tell my emotions to someone close.
Carlo Frick makes your brain swivel in place. I’ve opened many sets with his music at the forefront of the tracklist- in fact - I think any hard set I play will include a sound from his discography.
Kafia has that haunting element of like a siren’s presence underwater in her musical style.
Keep in mind, these artists you’ve mentioned from Endeavor v1s tracklist are particularly underrated.
Kafia shows that you have to really let loose upon yourself when digging deep into Soundcloud, Bandcamp, Spotify etc.
Trust the flow of the search for music and you will find those gem artists turn-by-turn.
On the subject, again, what bought you to your mix concept for "Endeavors"? What type of day/night was it, and what had been playing in your head before you even thought to put the playlist together?
It was super late. I came home after a night out in The Arts District of Las Vegas, and I just felt really sad. Anyone get that way after drinking too much and you’re like super on the edge of blacking out but have loads of energy that has been held so close for too long?
I had to let it out and went into my little corner area in my house where all my plants and records are and just turned on the controller and played what I thought would express my feelings inside. I woke up the next morning and played it back and thought "oh shit this went fairly well", lol. Sometimes sadness can drive you to make some really interesting projects. It's okay to feel these feelings.
Will, there be follow on concepts for Endeavor? Like how you dabbled in your previous works "HUNT//GATHER which came in a 5 volume mix of ambient allure, much love again for that. I loved what HUNT//GATHER represented. I remember you saying "It is intended to put the listener out of their element and into something wild and untamed" talking about the five-volume.
Truly a unique artist you are my friend, much gratitude.
If you do plan the volume for Endeavour, what would your goals and visions be for the project? Also what journey are you hoping to take your listeners on with works to come?
I appreciate the kind words on my previous mix series <3 <3 <3
and I think I would love to do something like that series again!!
Sure why not ;) This sound could work, I have loads more of this sound just sitting there looking for a home.
I think that could be the theme too!
“Searching for home, all the while achieving the tasks you set before you to prepare for your arrival”.
Something like that?
A goal of mine would be to make it a journey for the listener to enjoy.
With Endeavor, if you could give one descriptive paragraph for all it embodies from your point of view what would you state?
It’s your interaction with the elements in our world.
It's packed with all beats airy, wavy and blissful to help tell the story of…whatever it is you see after hearing the track order, to be honest! Find someplace relaxing to you, maybe a productive place and play this out.
I think it’ll bring you into some sort of meditative state :)
Any up and coming artists, music and beyond you could recommend and give us links to?
INDESCRIBABLE INDY
https://indescribable.bandcamp.com/
WEIRDDOUGH
https://weirddough.bandcamp.com/
ONEONTHEBEAT
https://1blaps.bandcamp.com/
MATT NISH
https://open.spotify.com/artist/5IcGFKFypLHBm9fUCbhl1u
OUMUAMUA
https://soundcloud.com/oumuamua
LO THE DINO
https://soundcloud.com/lothedino
One of my favorite questions to ask, any musical recommendations?
Albums, songs, or a blessed mix like your own for example?
I would personally recommend an artist by the name of Terekke.
His "Improvisational Loops" Album is filled with some of the most amazing ambient music I’ve heard.
https://www.musicfrommemory.com/release/6031/terekke/improvisational-loops
How have your previous experiences with doing live sets been going?
I can only imagine the mood you would set. What has been your favorite experience as of late?
Well.. to be clear, I haven’t really done a full live set just yet.
With remix decks on traktor, switching over to those can be a kinetic experience with the audience.
My real joy is to present sounds as a vibe selection - something that tells a story with energy exchange.
My challenge lately is looking at the crowd and reading their movements and my most favorite experience playing live is just glancing up after a transition and seeing a guy (pristinely dress) spilling his beer all over the floor while getting down.
I just really loved seeing that reaction to music. He didn’t care one bit and was just wayyyy into the song that was playing.
An old memory would have to be from a Halloween show years back at this venue called Velveteen Rabbit in the Arts District of LV.
I specifically remember just dancing harder than I’ve ever danced while dj’ing. Right in front of the small fold up table with my gear with all my friends just throwing their hands at me.
It felt like I was inside of a fireball.
I will forever cherish that night. connection to the crowd, close friends or newly met ones, that will always fuel me to play music.
Any up and coming shows or gigs you'd like to brief us on that you feel readers would be intrigued with checking out?
I just finished 2 sets for the end of October.
My birthday is Halloween, so I just want to spend time with friends and take photos throughout November.
I have a couple of collaborations in the works rn with some friends who need some photos; just have to see how they turn out.
As for music, I’m taking a month off from shows but I would like to play one for NYE. ;)
Any Last Words?
Please bear in mind that life is fragile.
We are on a rock that is highly susceptible to an array of destruction from uncontrollable forces we can’t even see coming from beyond the known cosmos.
Your milliseconds here are precious. what can you do to make the best of those moments?
Support Somanyfeels Here:
Somanyfeels Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/somanyfeelsmusic
Somanyfeels Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/_somanyfeels_/?hl=en
Somanyfeels Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/somanyfeelsphoto/
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Acceptance speech for the Oscars.
“Love,
the strongest and deepest element in all life, the harbinger of hope, of joy, of ecstasy; Love, the defier of all laws, of all conventions.
Love,
Love, the freest, the most powerful of human, destiny; how can such an all-compelling force be synonymous with that poor little State and Church-- begotten, weed marriage? Free love? As if is anything but free! Man has bought brains, but all the millions in the world have failed to buy love. Man has subdued bodies, but all the power on Earth has been unable to subdue love. Man has conquers whole nations, but all his armies could not conquer love. Man has chained and fettered the spirit, but he has been utterly helpless before love. High on a throne, with all the splendor and pomp his gold can command, man is yet poor and desolate, if love passes him by. And if it stays, the poorest hovel is radiant with warmth, with life and color… Thus love has the magic power to make of a beggar a king. Yes, Love is free; it can dwell in no other atmosphere”
-Emma “Red” Goldman
Love, ladies and gentlemen, is the only option. I would like to thank first of all the creator of Shape of Water, to my significant other and love of my life, Dr. Manhattan, my family, my friends, the people that believed in me and kept me going. Sometimes Art is a single glance, a single thought, and single secret. I know that people out there are having fighting for my cause and I thank you inmmensely, you are the true heroes,
This is about a love story, people doesn’t know that is Love anymore. For people that believe that money is the most important thing in the world. Pardon me, there are people have never experience true Love. I will teach how to love. I will teach humbleness, and regardless for the mask that you all have and or your money. What important our minds, education, your respect for other, and the skill, make your help happy. Good values, good style, good livelihood, And that love for your true friends and family is priceless. It’s time to step back to wars, Stop fight about money. Money will disappear soon enough. Stop fight over about conspiracies, this for me, heroine, making your live better.
I would like to thank to all the people that Art can change the world.
I want to thank Maria de la Cruz and the UN for taking away my sandals.
I thank the UN to HHDalai Lama, I apologize I couldn’t go, it wasn’t my call. My amazing Dr. Manhattan and the love of my life,
Eli, for protecting me wherever I am, I like, I will like cake. You are my star and beyond that protects me from all that are again this project.
Wanna thank a! Diseño for chose choosing me for the experiment, Rebeca Mendez and Adam Eewens, Gary Baseman, Beatrice Santiciolli, Apple, Inc. and mostly to Steve Jobs since by that time he was looking for a better place, Google, Nyquist, Facebook and Instagram to protect my ID, Youtube, Airbnb, Uber, Nikon, Chris, Keith, Cristine Ann, Barb, and all my friends in El Paso.
Club Dedo, Black Market, Kenli’s House, Craig Campell, And the Furies Say…,, Louis-David, Juan Francisco, Jean-François, Youssef, Gabi Fventes, My Alma Mater, Paquito, Angie, Liana, Edgar B., Aristeo, Oscar Cruzito, Lizaola y Elsita, Walther, Geppo, Massimo, CJ Boyd, Tatsuya Nakatani, Samuel Cepeda, Carlos Toledo, Yasodari and Angela, and the member of Esto es para Esto, And to the members the of the Gammagraphia experiment. Our beautiful Esme Barrera as my biggest inspiration, we lost this beautiful creature because of bigotry and unbiased racism. Lucy Quitanilla, a gorgeous girl that died for a combat downtown, It is not fair that innocent people lose their lives because of your thirst of power or money.
I wanna thank Becky and her mom, my Art and Design mentors, my nameless brother, my two beautiful sisters Melissa and Martha, and my brother in law, Thomas, Magnolia, Mariel, Denis, Dul y Yess. My parents for taking care of from of me in spite of my desires. And Eli’s parents, for try to blame me, your thirst for revenge, backfired, because i’m innocent.
I would like to thank most the Member of the Gammagraphia experiment. You chose the right person, someone would be a little less amusing. I just resent that you didn’t want to work WITH me and abandoned me, my regardless of the change and the revolution that I started in my room. I want us all to be friends, regardless social classes, gender, religion, ages, traditions; cultural identity or ideologies. We are all one. We need to start loving each other. Everyone in this Planet wants happiness, know thyself, determine your goals and your dreams and I, will fulfill mine and my passions: and fix yours your eventually. You are responsible for your life.
I would like to thank cosmic brothers and sisters Chanon, Horca. And mostly for to the people that believed in me. Thank you. I love you all and let’s start the biggest party and journey of our lives. Every single person would have the same righteous rules, and for those the have hurt anyone and/or take pleasure in the suffering of other, get your shit together and hide because to will be hunted down, Is not my orders and a foretelling of the future. Home is where you heart is, you choose your family, lets please believe that is good, but hard changes in our lives, yet I cannot save all, as I mentioned before it is a Rapture, but a rapture in your minds and heart, your knowledge and creativity and skills
You are showing your true essence and we will notice, and someone will tell your story, I will leave my passion as well, be equal be without worries, with stress that you will pay taxes. “Taxes and Death”, sorry, that quote is obsolete. To have a good life, taking care of the planet, taking care of yourselves.
And I apologize but I am no virgin or saint or anything religious wise. I’m a girl that just realized that communication works differently, and that developed a superpower to defend my mind from you and your misjudgment. I always know what I’m doing, Always taking care of my words even though I’m locked up in my room. Your thought grant wishes, enhance yourselves every day, be a better people and kinder, Your appearance and your thought says something to me. I wanna to hear your stories.
I’m human, I’m the Matrix, I am the Philosopher Stone, a I’m Coatlicue, I’m living Art, I’m the Queen Maya, The 3 Furies, UN, Kali, a full metal alchemist, I am The Artist, and I have an Artificial Intelligence in my body. I’m the face of every single human being, I am the guideline for a Utopia. I had to take action, I was really irate how you lost your humanity and how your treated me. That trigged to take action, the Planet is dying because of human stupidity, and I love you all regardless of the scars that you left. It is a curse and a blessing. Thank you for giving me super powers. Let’s fulfill our dreams. Let’s make Art out of our lives. Like Mr. Neil Gaiman says “Let’s Make GOOD Art”, but together, and love regardless of the consequences. I love you, all.
Maÿa Cantú Ledezma
Founder and creator of The Philsopher’s InkStone Project.
@aynomayac
P.S.: By the way, Goodspeed! You Black Emperor: your terror has united us to save your home from you tyranny. You have been our greatest inspiration.
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Illusion (earlier chapters in reverse order below beginning with Prologue)
Chapter 7
Felicia took a long time getting ready for the evening entertainment. Bath, hair-wash, trim and comb. Calf-length ‘forties gown, elegant cast-off from a theatrical costumier. Mascara, rouge, lipstick. Gleaming, precious jewellery that had belonged to her grandmother. Finally, scent from Tchi-tcho in Paris, a gift from Claudio.
Already in his dinner jacket, Claudio was lounging on the bed reading. She turned from the mirror. He breathed in sharply. ‘Felicia… my goodness…You look… superb…’
He tossed the book on to the table and gazed at her as she turned back to the mirror, checking herself, shifting positions.
Claudio was a poet, a minor, perhaps a failed one, but a man whose habit was to spin conceits and allusions, particularly in response to beauty. He might have said, ‘Till now, Felicia, if I speak truly, you’ve been pretty and very sexy but, heaven help me, now I see it gives way to something serious. You are beautiful. Your beauty in fact staggers me. One could say you have become a woman but actually I tremble in your presence now as before a goddess, or creature from myth. Dressed – ironically I presume – like Eva Perón in her heyday, you are Aphrodite, Kali, Lilith… Circe, who at a stroke can turn your admirers into grunting pigs. I am in great trepidation, Felicia. I must beware as never before.’
But that kind of declaration would have both incited mockery and increased her power over him, so he merely repeated, ‘Superb… superb…’
This praise seemed to gratify her. Leaning across him, engulfing him in her Parisian scent, she patted the front of his dress shirt. ‘You’re smart in your tux, Claudio. You may partner me in the dancing. You’ve never seen me dance, have you?’
‘I’d rather kiss you.’
‘You’ll smudge my make-up.’
She dug him in the ribs as was her habit. ‘Come on, Claudio. You can show a leg. Back in the ‘70s when they all turned to rock I’m sure you stuck with Argentine tango.’
‘Hardly,’ he riposted, struggling to break free from her prodding fingers. ‘You know I don’t dance.’
While she went back to the mirror, he stepped through to the balcony, to the warm night air and the moon rising over the mountains. ‘What does she know about the ‘70s?’ he asked himself. ‘La Represión. Then the Malvinas tragedy, Alfonsἱn, the return to democracy after the dictatorship, mean as much to her as if they’d happened on Mars. She has no politics, no opinions. She knows nothing about the ‘70s.’
A few minutes later they joined the stream of guests heading down the poplar avenue. As they made their way round by the lake, reflections from the summerhouse lanterns pointed a path across the dark waters to their destination. There was much chatter and a great air of anticipation. Everyone arrived at once but with the efficiency of the practised restaurant-goer Claudio cut through and made sure of a lakeside table. They sat down. Instantly a waiter appeared and poured a concoction. The taste of fruit and spices was so arresting that Claudio scarcely missed the alcohol. The guest mingled and chatted. The waiters moved among them with trays of vegetarian canapés.
With a roll of drums, a man in crimson jacket and bow-tie leapt on to the stage.
‘I’m not going to make a speech,’ he declared, ‘but simply welcome you with a few well-chosen words. We hope you’ll enjoy your time here. We uphold a vision of how life might be. We ask you to surrender sluggish appetites and diseased preoccupations, to throw off your addictions and obsessions. Be happy and healthy. Return to the world changed. Four amazing weeks. Grasp it. Make it yours.’
The band started up: violins, guitars, bandoneons and some older instruments. The music pleased Claudio. It was melodic and plaintive, above all in keeping: tango and melonga rhythms but older perhaps, with even a touch of pre-Columban influence.
Felicia looked out across the lake. He scrutinized her fine profile, her shapely nose and sensual lips. Her shoulders were bare. Her necklace shone.
He took her hand.
‘Felicia.’
She turned to look at him with sparkling eyes.
‘I want to know…’ he began, but he noticed that her attention was elsewhere. The music had moved from its soulful beginnings to something livelier. Felicia was watching the band and tapping her feet.
‘Hey,’ she whispered, ‘come on…’
Guests were gliding on to the floor from every side. Those without partners were taken in hand by staff. Soon the floor was full.
Claudio shook his head. She pleaded with him. ‘Go on, Claudio I’ll show you how to dance.’
Still he refused.
The dancing continued. Felicia got up, strode from the table and disappeared right into the crowd of dancers.
As it happened, the music at that point quickened and turned raw. Now it was passion laid bare, more furious as the dancers formed units which expanded then teetered and snaked towards others to form yet larger groups.
The dance space was writhing: a single creature, it seemed to Claudio who alone sat at his table staring, aghast. He saw a monster whose name was Copulator, a rutting and roaring mass of pumping flesh, of sweat and streaming hair.
He ran trembling fingers across his brow. ‘Where is she in all this?’ He rose and prowled round the beast Copulator with narrowed eyes.
‘Where? Is she nowhere? Did she run off?’
He moved to the other side and peered out. His eye swept the lakeside path lit by the moon. ‘No…’
Turning back he saw her. He went forward. Not only was she there, she was the very heart of the writhing Copulator. To his astonishment a space had formed round her. She bent back in an acrobatic arch, pointed one toe-cap forward and lifted the hem of her 1940s gown. Knee, thigh, stocking tops. With all revealed she pulled back her head and gazing up swayed dreamily as if to say (it seemed to Claudio), ‘Where is the man who is worthy of feasting on me?’
She surveyed the crowd, gently gyrating her hips, lowering her hem then lifting it to tease again. She tapped her foot in time with the drum beats. The drumming grew fiercer. She stamped and called out, expressing a gypsy sorrow and impatience. The circle round her clapped the rhythm. They urged her on with shouts and whoops.
Samuel was there. Sabatini’s mousy wife had thrown restraint to the winds and was jumping up and down like a child. (Where was Sabatini by the way?) To Claudio, who had by now pushed his way to the front of the circle, they were all transformed. A field of donkeys braying at Felicia. It had all happened so quickly. It was inexplicable.
Still the queen was looking for her consort.
A man stepped forward. A tango dancer from the Perón era with suit and greying hair. He clasped her waist. The band started up with a melancholy-sensual tune, Ilusión. The dancer led the queen-whore into the dance.
Paulus.
Claudio stared at the floor, breathing hard, temples pulsing, transfixed. Ilusión. That music, so haunting, which his mother and father used to dance to after guests had left, while he peeped down through the banisters, spoke to him like no other. It was the lilting heart of love and loss. Of hope dashed and mind broken. Of final abandonment, solitude, the abyss.
‘Ilusión…’ he murmured. ‘Oh Ilusión. You will kill me.’
Finally, he could not bear to watch. He went back to his table by the water.
After intolerable minutes, Ilusión drew to a close. The applause was thunderous. ‘Bravo Felicia! Bravo Paulus!’ Felicia appeared. Her mascara eyes came to rest on Claudio, then she re-joined him.
The music of Ilusión still ran in his head. Unable to look at her, he gazed at the moon high above the mountain crests. That night, as if by some cruel enchantment, besides becoming beautiful, she had revealed herself as that he admired above all else: an artist – despite her shallowness, materialism and ignorance. How could it be? How bear it?
A waiter, an old gentleman, made a flourish of pouring a drink for the star performer. ‘Magnificent,’ he said. ‘May I ask where you learnt to dance like that?’
‘Ballet school,’ Felicia replied, wiping the sweat from her forehead and gulping the drink down.
‘Yes,’ said the waiter, revealing himself as a man of culture, ‘I thought I detected the mild contempt of the classical dancer obliged to perform for tourists at the Crazy Horse.’
She shrugged. ‘We had Saturday night parties. The teachers were all dikes. They got off on teaching us to dance sexy.’
‘Well,’ said the waiter, exuding graciousness tinged with lechery, ‘in your case they certainly succeeded. To be candid, after seeing you dance I will find it hard to sleep tonight.’ He bowed and moved away.
Claudio took her hand. ‘The waiter was right, Felicia. Your dancing was fantastic.’
‘Thank you, Claudio. You see, I’m not entirely useless, in spite of your low opinion of me. Perhaps I should have been a dancer.’
‘Definitely, to judge by what I’ve just seen. But,’ he added with studied casualness, ‘I didn’t know you’d been to a lesbian ballet school.’
‘Oh yes.’
The party atmosphere, the darkness hovering over the waters, emboldened him. ‘Were you lesbian yourself at the time, Felicia? I know you aren’t now, by the way, because you told me so in connection with your gay friend Bel.’
‘I fooled around back then.’
Claudio tried to turn away from the images that came to him but was compelled onward. ‘Did you take drugs then?’
‘I smoked grass when I was thirteen.’
‘Who did you first have sex with?’
‘Claudio…’
‘Was it a boy or a girl?’
She threw her head back. ‘Claudio, it was a female if you must know but listen, what can I do to stop you asking me all this?’
‘I just like to know things. It’s quite innocent. I am a connoisseur of the human heart.’
‘No. You’re a pervert who likes to think of doped up schoolgirls getting into each other’s knickers.’
This picture, conjured on her sensual lips as she eyed him provocatively, caused Claudio’s heart to race. He turned away and pondered the glistening waters.
‘You mentioned that fellow Leman. Did you have sex with him?’
‘Leman? Did I tell you about him?’
‘Yes. He corrupted you apparently.’
She shook her head but this evidently didn’t mean, ‘No, I didn’t have sex with Leman’ as he hoped, rather ‘I despair of you.’ ‘Draw your own conclusion,’ she said. ‘and if you must know he gave me acid and, yes, fucked me when we were both tripping.’
‘Wasn’t that dangerous?’
‘It was something else, I can tell you.’
‘Dios mἱo.’
He looked down, rubbing his forehead to hide the eyes he sensed were near to tears. What did he know of sex on acid? Felicia: so much sex, so many lovers, the girls, the boys, the sexy dancing, the corrupters of youth, the drugs, how could he endure it?
‘Felicia, can we go.’
‘Really?’
‘Don’t you want…’
‘I’m tired,’ he said.
She did not seem unduly upset. They sat on a little while with their drinks and then got up.
‘Goodnight… Goodnight.’
‘Are you going soon?’ someone said.
‘What a shame, Felicia,’ said another. ‘I thought you might give us more.’
Felicia’s heels clattered down the wooden steps and hand in hand they took the path back along by the lake. As the music faded the only sounds in the enveloping dark were their footsteps, the breeze rustling the trees, and the lapping water.
‘Felicia, over there is something strange.’
In the light of the moon shining through a gap in the trees a body hung from a branch. The head and trunk was hidden by foliage. All that could be seen was a pair of dangling legs. The owner of the legs appeared to be talking urgently, and without stopping. The listener, looking up with hands clasped, was dressed in full-length black, her hair streaming pale in the moonlight.
‘Elena,’ whispered Claudio.
‘Come on, leave her,’ said Felicia.
‘But who’s in the tree?’
‘Who cares?’
Claudio was happy to walk on. At that moment his curiosity about Elena was as nothing to his other concerns.
Once they were back in main building of Arcadia, the piano quartet in the salon restored him momentarily.
‘Salon music of the old Mitteleuropa played as it should be, under chandeliers,’ said Claudio. ‘Gypsy dance, Slavic yearnings. It’s right that we should find that here too.’
A night porter leant against the banister, cleaning his nails with a silver fork which he slid into his pocket as the couple approached. He was humming along with the music.
‘Good night sir, madam.’
Claudio stopped. ‘By the way, you seem to know it, what is this piece?’
‘The F minor.’
‘The F minor. Of course. I knew I knew it.’
They climbed the stairs. He turned to Felicia. ‘Even the porters are men of education. He knew the piece better than I – even though I’ve spent my life exploring music.’
Felicia glanced down at the guests scattered around the salon. ‘The F minor by who?’ she asked.
He smiled and lifted his hand towards his ear. ‘Listen to the music, Felicia. Some phrases edge upwards indirectly, refuse to resolve. The composer…’
‘Yes, but who is the composer?’
‘Just listen…’
‘You’ve no idea who composed it.’
‘Well I do, actually.’
‘You’re a fraud.’
‘I know music.’
‘And I know when people have to pretend at all costs even when it doesn’t matter shit to anyone else.’
He shrugged and reached for her hand. He lifted it to his lips. ‘Darling, you’re sweet.’
They walked along the corridor past gilded portraits of Hispanic military men and engravings of gauchos riding the plains. In the room he left the light off and pulled her down on to the bed. They sat side by side. He lifted his finger to her cheek. The music from the summerhouse wafted through the open window.
‘The lake here,’ he whispered. ‘It reminds me of our first meeting. Do you remember that winter. Drinking maté at the deserted waterside café. The geese, the motorboats moored for the winter.’
‘I froze my butt.’
‘I’m going to make love to you, Felicia. Here. Important that it’s here. I’ve always imagined such a place. No rubbish or mess. No ruined landscapes, nor filthy rivers. No vile music. No machines. No… modernity… nothing… perfect.’
He stroked her back and kissed her neck.
Music from across the lake. Were they playing Ilusión again?
Gently he pulled her to him. But over her shoulder, by the chest of drawers, a woman was yielding to man. They were devouring, yes, almost eating each other. Felicia and Paulus. Teeth, tongue, nails, hair. Both with clothes ripped off and scattered, breathless lovers tearing at each other.
Claudio eased her down and edged himself on top of her. His eyes were tight shut. He had to get rid of the vision. He felt between her warm thighs. ‘Oh God… Lust…’ he murmured. ‘Lust… I want…’
‘Claudio… Wait… I can’t…’
He froze. ‘Why… what…’
‘I can’t…’
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Nothing. Nothing. I just can’t… not tonight.’
‘Is it the dance?’
‘What?’
‘The dance… Paulus?’
‘What?’ she repeated. ‘No. You’re crazy with this Paulus thing.’
She shifted from under him. He stared over by the chest-of-drawers. Where Paulus and Felicia had lately panted and gasped – nothing.
‘Very well,’ he said.
Without a further word they undressed and prepared for bed like two people who hardly knew each other.
Claudio read. The music stopped before too long. Felicia was already asleep. He heard the guests come back. Some were boisterous, which annoyed him even though it the noise they made was ‘natural’. Silence descended on Arcadia. He switched off the light and fell asleep soon enough despite his broodings.
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