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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years

Text

Mine

5. Draw me like one of your French girls

Genre: Min Yoongi x oc

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.3k

At this point, I’m seriously considering commissioning my own fanart.

It all started the next morning at our first press release. Somebody had the bright idea to show me some fanart that’s been rolling in the past few weeks of a certain k-pop rapper and I. Not gonna lie...we look good together.

Too good.

Then again, everything about Min Yoongi has seemed pretty good since I woke up to a couple more texts from him this morning. I passed out after his late-night/early morning apology, but he sent another text not long after.

4:32 MYG: So does this mean I’m forgiven? Bong-cha made it sound like you enjoy holding grudges.

9:02 MYG: Morning. I hope everything goes well with you today...is it alright if I keep texting you?

9:02 MYG: Just so I can keep tabs on everything. I don’t want this to get too out of hand for you.

Obviously the poor man is just as worried about all of this as I am. I couldn’t help but give a sleepy chuckle when I woke up to his messages.

So far, I’ve done a wonderful job of ignoring how nice it felt to wake up to a good morning text.

I’ve also done a great job at keeping calm and breezing past any weird questions from the current press conference I’m in. That is, until a Korean reporter (I have a hunch they’re from Dispatch) pipes up not only with a question, but with visual aids!

“Cara, do you mind if I ask you a question? Would you like a translator?”

Reminding myself to be gracious and kind, I shake my head. “Go ahead. I should be alright without a translator, thank you.”

The reporter nods, shuffling forward until they pull a paper out of their file in hand. She gives me a sickly smile, passing the paper up to our security guard who does me the honor of bringing it right to my outstretched palm.

“This is one of the newest renderings, I was just wondering how you have been feeling about this entire situation?”

I already guessed what this was going to be about, but the picture in my hand confirms it.

It’s fanart.

To be honest, it’s very well done. It’s a watercolor, the artist placed us walking along a rainy sidewalk. Hand in hand, Yoongi’s gummy smile on full display while I look down at my toes.

Sebastian whistles beside me, clearly as in awe of the artwork as I am. Before me the reporter still wears her smile, waiting for a response. I pass the paper down the line, allowing Rhea to get a chance to admire the fanart.

Maybe it’s the boost of confidence I received upon reading Yoongi’s text this morning that has me grinning back at the reporter with a saccharine smile.

“Did you draw this? It’s very well done.”

Not everyone can understand Korean in this press conference, but the few that do start chuckling. The reporter blanches for a moment, smile faltering.

“N-no, but if you could answer the question-”

I’m sure I look very disappointed as I look down at her. She definitely works for dispatch; she practically reeks of it. Maybe that’s what gives me the boldness I need as I realize that I’m not even her direct target; Yoongi is.

Yoongi’s nice. I don’t think she is.

“Oh, everything is going fine. Honestly, I should get in touch with this artist. They’re very talented.”

The reporter’s eyebrows flick up, sensing a new method of attack. “Were you thinking of commissioning your own?”

“Honestly, I might consider it. Maybe it’ll make my aunts quit hounding me every Thanksgiving about my love life.”

With that, the paper is handed back to the security guard, but the reporter motions for him to keep it. Confused, he hands it back to me. I turn it over so I don’t get caught staring at it during the conference. That’s the last thing Yoongi or I need right now.

As the reporter takes her seat again, I can’t help but feel a little triumphant. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

🌙

12:22 ME: I never said you were forgiven, did I?

As soon as we get out of the press conference we are ushered into a van which takes us to another interview. I figure that now is as good a time as any to text Yoongi back, seeing that this morning I woke up late and was too flustered to come up with a response.

“Who are you texting?” Sebastian asks. “Is it your friend that always calls you?”

I consider lying to him for a moment, but realize that it might actually be nice for him to know. He can keep me from being unrealistic when I start to fangirl.

He may also help me to keep that promise I silently made a while ago: to not go so easy on Yoongi. Right now, it’s proving harder than expected to dislike him.

“Nosy.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’re grinning at your phone like an idiot, that only happens when you get texts from me.”

“Ha! Right. It’s a secret...kind of. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll try my best not to.”

Taking an unnecessarily big breath, I spill my secret that I’ve kept for approximately 12 hours.

“It’s Yoongi.” When there’s no immediate reaction from him, I backpedal. “Also known as Suga?”

Before Sebastian can respond the ping of my phone pulls my attention away.

12:26 MYG: Oh good, you responded. I was getting worried you were actually mad. So is it alright if I keep texting you? I don’t want to mess with your schedule.

“You’re smiling again.”

I look up to see an annoyed Sebastian Stan. He’s not very good at sharing attention, and it would appear that Yoongi is no exception.

“How strange, I didn’t realize.”

12:27 ME: That’s fine.

12:27 ME: But I am mad!!

12:28 MYG: Hahaha sure

“Cara, we’re here.” Sebastian says as he clambers out of the car. I follow after him, pocketing my phone.

There’s a few cameras outside waiting for us, but we’re able to make it inside the building without too much fuss. Once we make it into the room where we’re supposed to have one of our interviews, Sebastian pulls a paper out of his back pocket.

“What’s that?”

He smirks at me, unfolding the paper. It’s the fanart from earlier. I didn’t even realize that he’d pocketed it.

“Tell Suga I say hi, at least.” He poses with the papers just below his chin, giving the best puppy dog eyes he can muster up. It’s rather convincing, if I’m being honest.

“You weirdo,” I mumble as I snap a photo. I’m quick to send it off to Yoongi, captioning it.

12:37 ME: Sebastian says hello.

Our interviewer is just about to come into the room when I receive a response. Not having the self-restraint to put my phone away, I quickly take a look. Sebastian peers over my shoulder, curious as well.

12:40 MYG: Winter Soldier!!!

12:41 MYG: Hi. Did he draw that?

I cackle, quickly translating the message. Sebastian looks appalled. “I have better things to do than draw fanart!”

“Yeah, like write fanfiction, right?”

He grins at me. “Obviously.”

12:42 ME: No, but he says he’s writing fanfiction.

12:42 ME: We’re about to start an interview rn but I’ll tell him to send you his rough draft later. 😏

Interviews pass, and it isn’t until I’m finishing up dinner that my phone pings with another message from Yoongi. I nearly impale Sebastian with my fork as I lunge for my charging phone; he’d come into my hotel room to eat dinner with me.

“Watch it!” Sebastian grunts, shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate. We were promised lunch by Rhea earlier but it ended up just being a small snack as she was whisked away by a long-lost friend. The two of us managed to control our hunger for as long as possible, but Sebastian wasted no time calling up some food for us before we even got back to the hotel.

We barely beat the delivery boy here. He wasn’t all that surprised that we were American. Sebastian had tried out some very choppy Cantonese. What did end up surprising him was that he was delivering a meal to the Winter Soldier. I was able to sneak into my room undetected while the boy’s eyes were bugging out as Sebastian signed his hat.

“Sorry,” I mumble around my food.

9:12 MYG: I’m still waiting for the rough draft.

I translate the message to Sebastian, who cackles and promises to get started on it as soon as possible.

9:14 ME: Sorry, Sebastian said he’s still trying to write it. I’ll let you know when it’s ready!

9:15 MYG: That’s alright. I’ll be patient.

9:15 MYG: I saw a clip from your press conference today.

My stomach lurches as I realize what clip it was that he probably saw. Does he think I’m some crazy fangirl now? I mean, I might be. But he doesn’t need to know that.

9:18 ME: I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?

Sebastian notices my change in expression and shoots me a worried look. “Everything alright?” I shrug.

“Yeah...I just hope I didn’t get him in trouble with what I said at the press conference today. I think that reporter was trying to go against him somehow.”

“He’s a big boy. Did he say anything about it?”

I look back down at the messages even though I already know what he said. My stomach lurches again as I see the three little dots at the bottom of the screen.

“No, not really. He just said he saw a clip or something. He’s typing right now, though.”

9:20 MYG: I thought I was the worrier. No, you didn’t. How was the rest of your day?

“What’d he say?” Sebastian grabs our cartons of food, tossing them into the wastebasket.

“He’s just…”

“Are you blushing?!” My friend stares at me from across the room, eyes wide. “No way! You like him!”

“No! No I don’t!”

“Yes you do, don’t lie to me! You’re so into him!” Sebastians hurries back over grinning wide. “Wow, he must be a good texter.”

That really is helping my blush. “Nooo, he’s not. He’s just nice. That’s it. It’s just fun having someone nice to talk to, you know? He feels really bad about everything and - Sebastian quit it - and it’s just sweet of him to care. That’s it.”

Sebastian stops looking at me with his puppy dog eyes and leans back in his chair, a contemplative look overtaking his features. “I thought I was nice to talk to.”

I pause for a second, breath getting caught in my throat. “Y-you are. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He shakes his head, giving me an award-winning smile. “No, I know. Aren’t you going to respond?”

“Oh! Yeah!” I focus on my phone again. There’s an uneasy feeling rising in me at Sebastian’s comment, but I brush it off for now. He’s always been bad at sharing his friends. He’s the same with Anthony Mackey, I’ve seen it up close.

9:25 ME: True, I’ll let you worry. My day was good, just finished up dinner. How was yours?

“There, I-” I look up proudly only to find Sebastian’s chair empty and the door clicking shut. “...I did it.”

MYG: It was great. Got lots of work done.

MYG: Have you decided if you’re going to come to the festival or not? Also, Bong-cha says hi.

ME: Wow, she can’t even tell me herself. No respect. No, I honestly didn’t even think about it today...but I’m pretty sure we’re all going either way.

MYG: Haha she’s not happy with your comment.

MYG: She’s reading over my shoulder, I promise I’m not reading our conversation out loud. Is your director making you go?

I just miss the chance to respond as my phone lights up with an incoming call.

“Bong-cha, quit reading my conversations you little weirdo.”

“Hey, how’s it going with you? I’m great, thanks for asking.”

“Are you still in the room with everyone?”

“No, just left. You should see Yoongi right now, though.”

“Why?”

“He looks like a kid in a candy store every time he gets a text from you. It’s adorable.”

“Yah!”

My friend’s cackle soars through the phone, and I swat at the air as though I could somehow get her to stop.

“Please tell me you guys are coming to the festival.” Bong-cha’s sudden change in tone has me pausing, chewing on my lip.

“We are. Why?”

“Come stay with me!” Bong-cha shouts. I jump up, a grin already working its way onto my face. “It’ll be just like old times. And, I was looking at the schedule you sent me...there’s a couple of nights where you’re done relatively early. We could go do something fun!”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. My phone is buzzing with incoming texts, but I ignore them for now. “Yeah, that’ll be fun. I’m not sure if I can come stay with you-”

“C’mon,” Bong-cha whines. “I never get to see you anymore. We’ll make it work! Oh, I’ve gotta go, Tae brought Yeontan. But let me know!”

With that, Bong-cha cuts the line and leaves me on the other side caught between excitement at seeing my friend and dread at having to come face to face with Yoongi. Texting is one thing; but actually spending time with him?

“Just be his friend,” I mumble to myself. Settling down, I attack my food once more. The space where Sebastian sat before makes me furrow my brows.

What’s going on with him? I mean sure, we’re really good friends. But we still see each other constantly, why would he be so possessive?

It’s probably all just in my head. My phone light up with the texts I received a couple of minutes ago while I was still on the phone, and this time I physically cannot restrain the smile that comes through as I realize Yoongi is still texting me.

MYG: Really no pressure about the festival. I know Bong-cha really wants to see you, but please don’t feel like you have to come and hang out with us.

MYG: We’re not even that cool, anyways.

MYG: Are you just hanging out with Sebastian tonight??

I stare down at my phone for a moment, the smile being wiped from my face. Plopping down heavily on my bed, I close my eyes and power off my phone.

Yoongi is nice. So nice, apparently, that I can’t even tell now if he’s trying to get me to stay away. The fact is simple: he’s a nice man who has a reputation to uphold and is trying to keep everyone happy. That includes me.

He’s nice for texting me and trying to make sure I’m doing alright. Any decent human being would do that. But there’s also the fact that I’m new to this game in the spotlight and I know that I’m not going to be able to keep my feelings out of this.

I take a moment to breathe, forcing myself to push away the impending panic that sets in. This is no way to live, and I know that I’m only setting myself up for heartbreak when someday I don’t wake up to a good morning text from Yoongi.

It’s only been one day of communicating and I can already feel myself getting too attached.

Powering on my phone again, I flinch at the new texts.

9:17 MYG: Bong-cha just told me her evil plan. 😩 Did she tell you about it on the phone?

9:31 MYG: Sorry if you’re busy! Just text me back when you can. Let me know about your plans for the festival, too.

Even though I’m itching to text him back and waste away the rest of the night talking to him, there’s another more pressing matter I have to face. Quickly getting up and leaving my phone there in order to fight the temptation, I grab my room key and head a few rooms down. A quiet knock and a few seconds later and Sebastian is opening up his door.

He looks down at me warily, and I feel almost like we had a fight because of the way he’s looking at me. Emitting a loud sigh, he shakes it off and grins down at me in a way that makes me question if I even saw the previous expression at all.

“Hey,” I mumble out weakly. Moving past him into his room, he follows silently behind me.

“Hey…?”

Without another word I land face first onto his bed, the action pulling a laugh from him. Good. His laugh reminds me that this is real. This friendship is real, and Sebastian for all his annoying teasing, is a true friend.

Bong-cha is miles away and busy. She’s also biased. So Sebastian is the next best thing.

“I’m freaking out,” the pillow muffles my words but I know he hears me loud and clear. The mattress dips on one side as Sebastian settles onto it, and a moment later a hesitant hand begins kneading the flesh at my shoulders. I let out a satisfied sigh.

“What’s going on?” His tone is gentle, and the sound of it nearly tugs some tears out of my eyes.

“I’m pathetic, Sebastian.” I clutch his pillow and bury my face farther into it. “I’m so pathetic! I’ve literally never met the man before in my life, and I’ve spent the last 24 hours sending a few texts back and forth and I already feel like I’d jump off a cliff for him!”

Sebstian’s hands pause in their kneading for a fraction of a second before continuing on. “I told you you liked him.”

I turn to look at him, and again I catch that wary gaze before he drops it. “Really? ‘I told you so’? Rude. I need help, Sebastian. It’s never going to happen, he’s just being nice, and I just need to be cordial and get through this. Right?”

He nods, contemplating a bit. “Sure. He seems like a great guy. But at the end of the day, the two of you are just caught up in a weird media frenzy and that’s it. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I guess.” I huff, flipping onto my back as I stare up at the ceiling. “Why do I like him though? Am I just desperate?”

Sebastian stands up and laughs. “No way. If you were desperate you would be falling for me, not some inconvenient, crazy famous kpop star.”

Somehow his words make me laugh, the feeling easing the panic a bit. “You’re right, I guess.”

🌙

I end up passing out in Sebastian’s room only to wake up at 3 am and find myself a little too close for comfort to my co-star. Gently untangling myself from his mess of arms and legs, I sneak out of his room and back to my own.

Half-asleep and looking the part, I groan at my reflection in the mirror as I try to brush my teeth. Pointing at my reflection with my toothbrush, I give myself a pep talk.

“You are not pathetic,” pause to spit, “you’re not desperate,” rinse out the brush, “you’re just friendly. You’re practicing making new friends, and Yoongi as well as all of BTS are a part of that. That’s it.”

So when I finally settle down into my cold and very empty bed, I don’t feel very guilty sending Yoongi a late-night text. He never texted me again after the last one I saw, and I easily brush off the feeling of disappointment and replace it with relief.

3:13 ME: Yeah, we’re going. No, I have no idea what the evil plan is. Do we need to come up with a counter-plan? And sorry I never responded...I was busy annoying Sebastian and left my phone in my room. Good morning! This is payback for your late texts last night!

I fall asleep easily after that, double checking that my phone is on silent before snuggling deep down into my pillows.

Honestly, what do I even have to worry about? Everything is going great with promotions, the movie is finished and should be well received, and in a couple of days I’ll get to go see Bong-cha and make new friends!

Into the silence, I can’t help but laugh. I’m not dumb enough to believe that everything will go as planned.

Especially not as my dreams take over and the only thing I can dream of is a man in a black suit, turning around to greet me over and over again. I can never quite see his face, but somehow I know him.

Even in my unconscious state, I lie to myself and say that it’s not Min Yoongi.

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beholdme · 3 years

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 3

Chapters: 3/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can't help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2]

In the following weeks, as he sees Jon a few more times, Gerry's hair fades out and he looks rather more 'forest nymph' than 'American Gothic'.

So it's not much of a shock when the next time Jon catches sight of Gerry striding through the library stacks, his hair has been re-coloured. This time it's a smooth buttery yellow and Jon is struck by how young the warm, bright colour makes him look.

Gerry doesn't feel young though, he feels tired and bored and wrung out, and he wishes he had never agreed to take art commissions.

"It's only the one time!" Gertrude had insisted to a very put upon Gerry, very early in the morning. "And if he puts in a good word for you in his circles, your name will really be on the map in the art world."

Gerry wasn't particularly interested in being put on any maps, or being picked apart by rich, stuck up strangers, but he had agreed to try, mostly because Gertrude had put a lot of effort into making his passion for art an actual career and he felt like he owed her.

(He forgets, frequently, just how much of a commission she takes on the sales of his paintings).

So there he was, striding around the library at 7 am and desperately looking for exactly the right reference book. Unfortunately, it has been out of print for years, and Gerry can't seem to find a copy anywhere that won't cost him half a liver. He has the money now, but he refuses to pay half a month's rent to a second-hand retailer on principle.

Jon watches him skulk around for so long, (apparently forgetting that he is, in fact, a librarian) that Sasha comes out from her desk to ask Gerry if he's looking for something specific. She's wearing her big round glasses today and even indulged herself in her favorite waistcoat to beat the Monday blues.

"Why, yes." At this, Gerry looks directly up at Jon, where he is standing and watching him from the upper balcony level. Jon's face burns, and he ducks out of sight, but not earshot. "I do actually come here to borrow books, not boys." And he smartly feeds her the name of the reference book he has been hunting for almost an hour.

Sasha giggles at his antics, "We do have a copy of that, actually, but it's very popular. There's a waitlist; also it's checked out right now."

Gerry's whole demeanor sags and he sighs in defeat. "Guess I really will just have to order it off the internet, then." He eyes the stacks of books, old and new, looking vaguely betrayed.

"No!" Sasha's exclamation takes everyone a bit aback, being that they are in a library and all. "You know, my mate has this sweet little bookstore, and he loves hunting down rare copies of older books, he might have a copy?" She wrings her hands, eyebrows raised in question.

Gerry beams down at her, causing even stoic Sasha to blush and scurry off to get a piece of paper for the address.

They're already most of the way to the front desk by the time Jon realizes just which bookstore Sasha is busy recommending to the man he is dating , and just who owns that particular establishment.

By the time he manages to get downstairs to try to deflect the situation, Gerry is out the door, nothing left but the faint scent of oil paints and leather from his jacket.

***

Tim Stoker leaves Gerry feeling faintly dazed. By the time he stumbles out of the bookstore and into the tea room, elusive book in hand, he's forgotten everything he has ever known in the face of such intense flirting. And Gerry thought he was bad.

Throughout the whole episode at the library, the walk through Chelsea, and the exchange with Tim, Gerry had never once taken a moment to consider that Sasha's friend with a bookstore and Jon's Martin with a bookstore might be the same person.

He chooses to blame the lack of sleep and general disarray that is his life for the oversight.

Which is how, 9:30 in the morning, having been awake for almost 24 hours and completely finished, Gerry walks up to Martin in his tea room and says, "I'll have whatever is pink and in that jug, please. The biggest you've got."

Martin, of course, recognized him immediately. He would have recognized Jon's gothic childhood boyfriend from his social media stalking alone, but Jon's frantic texting was also a pretty big giveaway.

Martin: Relax, I don't bite clients this early in the morning. He's in safe hands with me.

Jon: HE KNOWS THINGS ABOUT ME. Besides, who's gonna stop him from biting you?

Martin: Whatever he has to tell me can’t possibly be worse than the office gossip I heard about you before we even meet.

Jon: W H A T

Now, here Gerry is before him, and he’s quite pleased with what he sees. Even tired and vaguely dazed, his presence in the little room carries a certain energy that Martin enjoys.

"Right away. Take a seat and I'll call you with it." Martin's voice is sweet, but gentle and firm, in a comforting sort of way. Through Gerry's sleepy haze, the instruction makes perfect sense, although he has neither paid nor offered a call name.

Gerry considers taking a seat on the plush bench that occupies one wall, before deciding that he desperately needs a cigarette, and wandering outside.

Technically he is only supposed to smoke at night when he's painting and needs just the right kind of boost, but he decides to call this one since he's on a painting-based errand when he's supposed to be sleeping.

"Gerry?" He turns toward the sound of his name, to find the barista offering him a large to-go cup of what he assumes is fruit ice tea. He frowns at having his name known (his new, much-preferred name, no less) and then frowns at a blonde, bespectacled man in a tea room attached to a bookstore.

His brain finally takes a moment to function, and he puts all the pieces together in an avalanche.

"Martin?" Far from his usual self-confident tone, the single word comes out in a squeak that would make even a toddler wince.

"Yes?" Martin returns the single word in the same solidly reassuring way, and even offers a happy smile.

"I didn't... I didn't recognize you."

"Would be pretty hard for you, considering this is the first we've ever met." Martin's voice is calming in a way that eases Gerry a bit, teasing and all.

"Thank you. For the tea, I mean." Gerry closes his eyes and desperately begs his shit to pull together for him, just this one time. "It's nice to finally meet you."

His hands are fully occupied with a book, a cup of tea, and a cigarette, but Martin doesn't seem particularly bothered by the lack of a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you too. We're giving Jon a heart attack by doing it without him."

"That is the lawful good," Gerry says, after a long drag of his smoke. "A panicked Jon is a happy Jon, after all. Whatever would he do with himself without a situation to unnecessarily complicate?"

"Yes, the man does seem to thrive on anxiety, doesn't he?" Martin asks warmly, eyes crinkling around a fond smile. "Speaking of, you seem pretty wrecked yourself. Good party, I hope."

Gerry's answering laugh has a razor edge, "Not hardly. This fucking painting I'm working on will be the death of me." Gerry lifts the reference book as proof of trauma and stabs out his cigarette viciously.

"Hmm, sounds like a pain. I hope you typically find art a more enjoyable career?" Martin asks, tilting his head inquisitively. His curly hair moves fetchingly and Gerry catches himself tracking the movement.

"Mostly, yes. Although I keep the bartending gig for variety. You'd be amazed at the sort of inspiration someone can find in the right drunk crowd." Gerry grins, thinking of all the ridiculous things he’d seen walk in and out of the bar in his run there.

"I'd be very interested to see what kind of art you can turn that into. Maybe you'd like to show me sometime?" Martin's words are open and friendly.

Gerry eyes him for a minute, hiding behind a long taste of his drink. He's trying to suss out Martin's motivations, for his kindness and general geniality. The drink is good and it tips Gerry's mood far enough back into cheerfulness that he shrugs off his considerations for the time being.

"You know what," Gerry quips back. "I think I would like to show you sometime. How 'bout tonight."

It's not a question really, with Gerry's typical force of personality behind it, and he leaves the shop with Martin holding an address in his hand and a time to drag Jon over for dinner that evening.

***

Gerry does not make a big deal of Martin coming over. He acts as if any other friend is coming over for dinner.

He tidies, a little. Lights a few candles. Wears pants. The bare minimum really.

He isn't trying to impress anyone, he tells himself sternly.

Except he is, obviously. He doesn't know Martin very well yet, but he does want to keep Jon around, and they are a packaged deal these days. Which he was happy with, truly.

In their limited interaction, Martin had been sweet and put Gerry instantly at ease. He knows, from many years of working a bar, how to spot a dipshit, and feels confident in his assessment of Martin's character.

But, it's his own character that concerns him. People don't always like Gerry past surface interactions. He can be tempestuous and moody, and catching him tired is a pretty bad idea. The combination of artist and mommy issues can be jarring.

He desperately wants those things to not bother Martin though. He wants Martin to like him, and he's not interested in putting on a show to make it happen.

It occurs to Gerry an hour before they're due that he doesn't even remotely know what takeout to order for dinner.

(He knows what Jon will eat, and he obviously knows what he likes, but what about Martin? Why didn't he ask this morning? Why didn't he ask Jon earlier?)

Gerry is just starting to really panic about all the life choices leading up to this moment, when he gets a text from an unknown number, instantly filling him with relief.

Martin: Since you're hosting this time, I'll grab the take-out. Jon says you like Thai, I'll bring that. You got the drinks covered?

Gerry: As long as you drink either coffee, vodka, or water, yes.

Martin: I'm sorry, I subsist only on the blood of virgins.

Gerry: Oh dear. I couldn't tempt you to settle for Earl Grey?

Martin: Hmmm, yes, I'll accept your offerings this time.

***

The first knock comes right on time. Gerry, dressed in his best paint-stained jeans and cherry blossom kimono, opens the door with a flourish.

Martin allows himself to be welcomed in and hands the food off to the dramatic artist, who deposits it on the table where he has already set the tea tray.

"No Jon? Not that I mind quality ‘us’ time, of course."

Martin is busy taking in the rambling studio space and barely spares the attention to respond, although he manages a blush at the flirty tone. "He's, uh, running late. Work stuff. You know Jon."

Gerry smirks at that. "I do indeed. Is it a 'stumble in at 3am' late, or 'we could probably wait to eat' late?"

"Hmmm? Oh, let's wait a bit? If you don't mind." Martin seems equally taken with his painting wall and his book wall and keeps trading his attention between the two. The paintings, being the larger attraction, eventually win, and he meanders over to study them closer.

"Do you keep all the completed paintings around?" His voice is soft and reverent, and Gerry feels a rush of pride for his work.

"For a while. I like to make sure they're in their final forms before I release them into the wild." Martin blinks big brown eyes at him, before grinning and giggling slightly.

"You're very talented. Jon said as much, showed me the pictures, but words and photos are nothing compared to seeing the real thing." Martin really regards his paintings as if they're special, and rather than the prickly feeling of appraisal he feels during gallery nights, it fills Gerry with warmth.

He turns to examine the wall himself. It's filled with an eclectic group at the moment. Large abstracts made by pouring paint and then layering designs over, three-dimensional pieces painted and then embroidered or quilled over in select places, including a particularly wild eye design. Surreal faces and scenes that seem realistic except for the wild subject matter of planets in meadows and chimeras going to battle.

"Is this what comes from your adventures in bartending?" Martin asks Gerry, turning from the wall and towards the slightly taller man.

"That, and my traumatic childhood." Gerry makes sure to laugh at the last, taking the edge off the small confession.

"Obviously." Martin offers.

"Obviously." Gerry accepts.

***

Gerry and Martin drink tea on the floor while they wait for Jon. Gerry gently prods Martin through the story of how he came to open the bookstore. The blonde man even softly confessing that he had to lie on his CV to get the librarian gig at Magnus.

"How old are you? How did you convince them you had a Master's degree?" Gerry is incredulous. Not that he doesn't think Martin could have an advanced degree. But in paranormal research? Gerry hadn't even known that was an option.

"That's the thing! I'm only 29 now . I worked there for five years!" Martin's voice pitches up in disbelief. "I'm still in shock that anyone ever brought it. Desperate times, desperate measures, you know?"

"I do, actually." Gerry shifts slightly, adjusting his balance with the long remembered urge to flee from those desperate times. He fiddles with his teacup to distract himself. He brought this particular set from a pawn shop because the filigree and florals appealed to his love of colour theory. Soft pinks and corals warm against the cool aqua background.

"Jon says you wanted to go to art school when you two were younger."

It's not a question, but merely Martin offering the same space for openness that Gerry had given him.

"I never went. After my A-levels, I had to get away, and I never really stopped moving for long enough to go to uni when I was younger. Now I'm settled and it's not important to me anymore. Besides, no one asks for a copy of my phantom degree when I sell a painting. So I'm happy with how things turned out for the most part." He stops to consider the outline of a possible past for a moment, one where he didn't have to skip college and go ten years without seeing Jon. "Besides, can you imagine a 27-year-old in art school? The young ones would sacrifice me for more creative talent."

Their eyes meet for a moment, and then they laugh easily and move on to different topics, sliding through the easy stages of getting to know each other.

***

Jon does eventually arrive, looking panicked and harried. He de-ages 10 years when he finds them laughing and relaxed instead of tense and awkward.

So, the three of them eat cold Thai take out on the floor of Gerry's loft, leaning against the perfectly good couch. They share the odd intimacy of people who have known each other for very disjointed amounts of time but like each other just the same.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #tma #fic #also on ao3

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starry-bi-sky · 5 years

Text

Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster

Inspired by one of the channels on the maribat discord, @stories-by-kat @maribat-archive

(You can find this on ao3 under ‘imshookandbi’)

Everyone in Gotham held their breath expectantly as the newest episode of ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed’ began playing on their tv screens. Tonight was another Wayne Special, and nobody wanted to miss it.

When the first Wayne Special aired it was met with surprise from every busybody in Gotham, they didn’t think Bruce Wayne would ever agree to such a thing, considering he was big on his privacy, and they were expecting something boring.

How they were wrong.

The episode started like any other, the camera crew standing outside of the house of the chosen celebrity, getting a clear shot of the large estate, before moving to the door and knocking.

[[MORE]]

A few seconds later it was opened by Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne butler, and the camera crew was invited inside. Bruce Wayne stood nearby with a blank expression, before motioning to the foyer and beginning the tour.

His voice, while pleasant and charming, droned on as he explained the history of the house. People were just about to click off it with a quiet sigh of expected disappointment, when there was a loud crashing sound and Jason Todd, Bruce’s second oldest, came sliding down the foyer stair banister and almost straight into Alfred, who merely stepped out of the way at the last second.

The camera jerked towards the dark haired boy in surprise, who was face planted into the floor and groaning painfully. The camera turned back to Bruce, as if asking a silent question, when the man in question adopted a pained expression and pinched the bridge of his nose, before sighing.

It was silent as the Patriarch of the house muttered quietly, in a long-suffering tone, “We were supposed to act normal.”

After that it was all chaos, and Gotham saw first hand how crazy it truly was in the Wayne Family.

The people of Gotham demanded for a second episode.

The people of Gotham got a second episode.

The people of Gotham got many more episodes even after, much to their unrestricted glee.

The people of Gotham thought it couldn’t get any better, then enter stage left; Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Damian ‘I am a glacier personified’ Wayne’s sweetheart.

She wasn’t showcased until four Wayne Specials later, but even before then she was heavily mentioned. However, it was under the pseudonym (that wasn’t really much of a pseudonym, more so a loving nickname the youngest Wayne gave her) ‘angel’.

And an angel she was, nobody expected her to be French, nor so small. She first appeared when the camera crew was in the middle of filming, a tray of macarons in hand and an easy-going smile on her freckled face. She didn’t even notice the camera yet, instead she walked over to Damian, pecked his cheek, before swinging the tray over to him and saying with a heavy French accent; “Macaron, Dames?”

Damian looked positively gleeful before nodding and taking one. That was when Marinette noticed the camera crew, she looked surprised, but quickly recovered before walking over and, while looking straight into the camera with glowing bluebell eyes, said; “Do you want one too, monsieurs?”

It startled all but Damian, who was still munching on the little treat.

Gotham adored her, and loved having her in episodes. She wasn’t in all of them, mind you, for she was still French and thus lived in France, but that just made her appearances extra special. Everyone did wonder though how she gets over so quickly, considering the far distance.

That isn’t the focus, though. As the newest episode faded in, the title did as well. Gotham Fashion: Disaster, a curious name, but promising for it held the chance of having Marinette in it.

And having Marinette in it, it did. The first thing that appeared after the title card was the small French-Asian girl, however, what was new was the fact that she wasn’t smiling. A concerning and uncommon thing with the young teen.

She was enraptured with something on her laptop, her face was stoic and deadpan, but while her expression was void her eyes were full of life. One could think her eyes were made of blue fire, full of disbelief and anger and thinly-veiled disgust. The corner of her eye twitched ever so slightly, so small a blink could miss it.

The camera crew got closer.

Marinette didn’t even seem to acknowledge their approach, and as they drew in the glare on her laptop died away to reveal a full body image of the Joker in all his crazed glory. There was destruction and carnage at his feet, rubble and destroyed street was strewn around him like an edgy teen’s family photo.

Marinette was glaring at the man, more specifically his outfit, which consisted of mainly green and white and purple.

The teen seemed to notice the camera at that moment, wordlessly she looked up from her laptop, ever so deadpan, and much like her first appearance, looked straight into the camera.

There was no smile though, no polite kindness, nor a tray of macarons in her hand. Tonelessly, yet still full of so much conviction, she stated; “The Joker is a punk bitch. If I ever so much as see him I’m going to slap him with a mallet for the sole reason of looking like an eggplant dipped in green paint and powdered sugar.”

Then, she added, “How dare he make me look at him dressed like that.”

Her incredibly offended voice would’ve been humorous, if it weren’t for the fact that she just swore for the first time on camera. The camera jerked in surprise, and the room was silent for all but three seconds, before one of the men behind the camera said, very quietly, “Pardon?”

That seemed to be the opening to a pair of floodgates that happened to be so full the dam wall was cracking. Marinette twitched, before blurting out; “His outfit! It’s an absolute disaster! An insult to fashion! He’s a walking bruise that someone attempted to cover using a concealer that wasn’t even their correct skin tone! He walks around like that and expects me to be scared of him?”

An inhale of breath could be heard offscreen, apparently from one of the crew about to speak, but the young French-Asian woman continued on.

“Don’t get me started on Puzzler and the Riddler, I know green is a lovely color, it really is, but if you’re gonna walk around like a neon traffic sign then I’m sorry but you’re gonna get slapped. By me. With a ruler.” She began, a scowl planted itself onto her face as she crossed her arms, an unusually out of place expression on her features. “If they want, I will personally make them a new suit, I can make it green if they so desire, but under no circumstances is it going to be that shade of green.”

An opportunity must’ve been smelt, for a second later one of the camera crew members piped up; “What about the rest of the villains? And what about the heroes?”

Marinette twitched again, before bursting out into a outfit-style rant that only an experienced designer could manage. For nearly two hours straight Marinette called out each and every single villain and hero who resided inside and out of Gotham for their poor fashion skills and terrible color coordination. If they had some involvement with Gotham, they were free game.

Two-Face, the Penguin, Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, Red Hood, Superman, Nightwing, Red Robin, the Flash, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Robin, no one was safe from her ire. She ripped into each and every villain and hero she could think of, each outfit was torn to shreds and rebuilt into something new. It was the hottest verbal fire the people in Gotham have ever witnessed.

“Then there’s Batman,” Marinette hissed dangerously as she neared the end of her rampage, her eyes narrowed in both terrible judgement (for Batman) and self-righteous, fashion fueled anger. “I’m going to have a talk with him about the first Robin’s hero costume.”

“Bright yellow. Stop sign red. And clover green. The first Robin’s outfit consisted of those three colors, two primary and one secondary. Robin was a walking traffic light, he wore elf shoes and didn’t even wear pants. I’m—” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath to seemingly calm herself, before continuing.

“I get that Robin was a child at the time, and he probably needed some way to keep an eye on him, but there are different ways to track a child and being a glowstick is not one of them.” She said, “Apparently, black is the only color he seems to know that doesn’t end in neon. Apparently I will need to teach him on this thing called the color spectrum, and that he needs to use it.” Her voice was full of annoyance and disgusted designer judgement.

“And the cape.” She said slowly, enunciating each word perfectly and clearly, such a small sentence shouldn’t sound so much like a threat, but it did. “Oh, the cape. Let me tell you something—” Off she went again, the young noiret rattled on every single disadvantage a cape had.

By the end of her rant everyone in Gotham felt significantly burned, even if the focus of her ire wasn’t pointed at them. The civilians of Gotham felt both embarrassed of and for their heroes and villains— well, maybe not so for their villains too much, but still slightly. At the most they pitied them. (Except for the Joker.)

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired was the day that one Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s inbox was flooded with commissions from heroes and villains alike.

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired villain activity decreased exponentially for a month as villains of all kinds scrambled to fix their suits and outfits.

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired was the day the phrase, ‘dress to impress Mlle. Marinette Dupain-Cheng’ was coined.

The episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ became a new Gotham Favorite, and Marinette’s popularity inside the crime-ridden city boosted significantly.

#my writing #personal post #maribat #daminette #maribat discord

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ask-the-clergy-bc · 5 years

Note

I loved the response you did for the shy but very bright colored s/o . I was wondering if you could pretty please do the ghouls with an s/o that paints a lot and draws /EVERYTHING/ . That includes them! You don't have to, just a request ^^ ((also this only pertains if your headcanons are open-))

I’m so happy you enjoyed it!!

and Yes, you got this in before they were closed!

Ember: If it was up to him? He’d ask you to draw him a tattoo! But because ghoul hide is super tough, even with glamour, he will settle for just hoarding your art. Truthfully, he might pick on you playfully for being an art nerd. But he keeps EVERY single picture or doodle you give him. He gets particularly miffed if anyone tries to touch the pictures you’ve made him! Ember would lose his MIND if you drew him! He’s so impressed you caught his likeness perfectly! He almost wants you to make pins or stickers so he can put them on his guitars!

Aether: Always loved your artistic side and skill! Aether just loves relaxing as he watches you draw. It’s calming to see how you can turn a blank canvas into a wonderful work of art! He’s very supportive of your art! Always jokes when you want to draw or paint him. “Why me? I’m not anything special, luv. I much rather see a lovely self portrait!” When you DO draw him he’s such a flattered, stuttery mess! Aether doesn’t fancy himself anything special- so to know you took time to draw him with your talent? Makes his day!! You know he has a special place in his room for your gifted art.

Nimbus: She loves that you draw. It’s such an amazing skill, and she does nothing but support you! Her FAVORITE is when you make really nice canvas paintings or big drawings she can hang up! Her room is FULL of your art! Her other favorite thing? To model for you. So that’s a plus if you are the type to love to draw your smol, curvey ghoulette! Nimbus LOVES to pose for you in any way she can. There is something incredibly comforting in watching you sketch or paint her. And the best part? she frames or hangs anything you make of her!

Gale: She is entranced by your abilities. Mainly because her area of expertise is music, not anything art. It’s amazing to her you can just conjure splendid images out of nothing! She’s the type to want to go through your sketch books or collections if you let her! Expect nothing but coos of amazement and praise as she does. Gale has to stop at every page and do a detailed look over it- telling you every reason why she likes something you made. Gale practically wants to keep every piece you make! She is touched and ecstatic when you make a portrait of her to keep!! It goes on her wall immediately!!

Mountain: This boy, oh my gosh. He loves your art and absolutely does something that almost mortifies you for the BEST reason. Mountain has a lot of your art and actually BRINGS IT TO COPIA AND IMPERATOR! He’s not sure why you make such a big deal out of it. He just goes right up and says, “hey my partner made this- think it’d be a nifty band shirt you guys make?” Imagine your surprise when you get COMMISSIONED to do more for the band! Even better? You know that one you drew of him? Well, they wouldn’t let it be a band shirt but he got it made into one for himself. Wears it all the time. Points it out to people. “My partner is talented and they drew me.”

Rain: He’s so proud of you it’s not even funny. He’s the type of partner to have a LOT of your art on him or saved to his clergy designated phone. Rain, though normally shy, is not shy about your skill! It’s surprising that this quiet ghoul can go on for HOURS about how much he loves your work. But when you make a portrait for him? Rain is always so incredibly happy. It means the world to him! Mainly because you took all this time and effort into creating something JUST FOR HIM! Rain is going to treasure it forever. Because things you make him mean the most to this water ghoul!

Swiss: My Morning Star, does this ghoul BRAG about you all the time! He’s a lot like Rain, where he has tons of your work saved to his phone. But he’s the type to show EVERYONE all of your pictures! Swiss will show anyone who is interested (and those who aren’t). He likes to say how proud he is of his super talented s/o! Swiss always talks you up, and makes you feel good about your work. He swears up and down you are going to be famous for your work! He’s honestly the best ego boost! When you actually make a picture of him, Swiss annoys EVERYONE with it! Mainly because he won’t stop running around and showing it off! “Look, my partner PAINTED ME!! Jealous?”

#the band ghost #ghost bc #Ghost headcanon #reader insert #Nameless Ghouls #era iv #aether #swiss #rain #ember #gale #nimbus #mountain

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queenofnohr · 5 years

Text

Fate/Grand Order Prince of Lanling Line Masterpost + Descriptions

Did a little bit of this throughout the week as warmups for a commission! Prince Gao is good y’all. A few of his lines sound like there might be variations with or without his mask, especially since there’s definitely a variation for his Bond 5, but the wiki I check doesn’t have any recorded (and only one victory line) and I....... don’t have any embers for my boy

Description (Default): A military officer that served the Northern Qi Dynasty during the era of the Northern and Southern Dynasties. He was known for his beautiful face and bravery, and hailed as an equal to the god of war. If a single fruit were given to him, he would share it with all his men. After death, he was given the posthumous name of Prince of Lanling.

Description (Bond 1): Height/Weight: 172 cm/ 55 kg Origin: History of the Northern Dynasties, Book of Northern Qi Region: China Alignment: Lawful Good Gender: Male He’s a Saber, but was summoned with his horse.

Description (Bond 2): It was because of his beauty that he wore a mask when fighting, but it is said the reason for it is actually two-fold. The first was because the soldiers were distracted by his beauty, and he feared morale would fall. The other was that he was afraid of being looked down upon by the enemy. In any case, word of his good looks spread throughout the land, and thus a number of legends were born.

Description (Bond 3): The Prince of Lanling is royalty, born as Gao Chen’s (Emperor Wenxiang) fourth son. His mother was a maid named Xun, who received a prophecy that she would have a beautiful son in the future. And so Gao Changgong was born…… Otherwise known as the Prince of Lanling.

Description (Bond 4): Beauty-Concealing Mask: A To prevent soldiers from being agitated by his beautiful appearance, the anecdotes about his mask sublimated into a skill. It shuts out the mental disturbances of his surroundings. Because his charisma is not concealed, his soldiers’ morale still remains high.

Devilish Appearance: EX The Prince of Lanling’s true face that was revealed for a second time. He affects his surroundings simply by exposing his true face, just as his appearance was sung about in the history books. It is unknown whether the moon aids him by shining down a moonbeam.

Description (Bond 5): “Prince Lanling in Battle” Rank: C+ Type: Anti-Army Noble Phantasm (Self) Range: 1~5 Maximum Targets: All in range

Masked hero, the beauty of Prince Lanling’s bearing and voice. It is regarded as a song made by soldiers extolling the masked Prince Lanling’s fierceness in battle. The song was transmitted to Japan in the Tang Dynasty as old court music, and is still danced even today. The song, praising his courage and beauty, boosts the morale of allies and frightens enemies. Furthermore, “The Beauty of Both Bearing and Voice,” refers to the Prince of Lanling himself due to the heavy pressure enemies receive due to their horror at beauty they cannot look away from.

Summoning: Servant, Saber. The Prince of Lanling has responded to your summons. You must think me terribly rude to arrive wearing a mask, but I humbly ask you to overlook it…...

Level Up: It seems like my ability has improved. That’s the convenience of a Servant.

Ascension 1: I see, so this is what it means to improve one’s Saint Graph. It’s exhilarating; I feel as though my heart will burst. Ascension 2: You have my gratitude. I swear to lend you ever more of my strength. Ascension 3: Hey, is this okay? If I am without my mask, I can’t seem to relax, but- No. If I consider it repayment for the power you have bestowed upon me so far, it is a deserved reward. Ascension 4: If we are together, then let me cast away this affectation. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, Master.

My Room Generic 1: It seems it is time to depart. Let us be off. My Room Generic 2: We are Master and Servant. I shall serve you faithfully. My Room Generic 3: My lord, please accept my service proudly. I will be content with that alone.

With Diarmuid: Hm, huh? About the one who wields two spears, it can’t be…… No, the era and country are wrong, but even so, somehow I feel we would get along well. With Lu Bu: So this the great hero, my unstoppable countryman who is a match for thousands. I see, it was due to his unyielding nature. I feel like I’m talking about a robot. With Xiang Yu: This person is the hero renown across the land, Master Xiang Yu? …...It’s a bit unreasonable for him to insist on calling me nephew.

Likes: What I like? It would have to be caring for my horse. I was truly blessed to be able to be summoned with my horse even as a Saber class. Dislikes: What I hate……? That would be being suspected. …...Let’s change the topic. Or else there’s no telling how depressing the mood will become. Holy Grail: The Holy Grail. How about wishing for a world where standards of beauty do not exist? Of course, such a wish is mere arrogance on my part. However, it is a bit difficult to go out without a mask.

Bond 1: How do you do, Master? Bond 2: I can’t be at peace if I don’t have my mask. Peoples’ stares are…… inconsiderate. Bond 3: Master, how about going for a long ride? It will surely refresh the spirit. Bond 4: For the sake of being with you, I must still wear a mask. Many Servants may have no limit to their jealousy. Bond 5: Master, the miracle of being able to meet you face to face is enough to blanket me in happiness. Please bear witness to my loyalty and love. Bond 5 (Final Ascension): Master, I hope to repay all the love, kindness, and affection you have bestowed upon me. If it is for you, neither fire nor water nor even poison can stand in my way.

Event: (no events yet :c ) Birthday: Master, it seems that today is your birthday. It would be good if you could relax leisurely for today. I will make you a cup of tea, so please be at ease.

Battle Start 1: My mask is on. Let’s go! Battle Start 2: The Prince of Lanling is here! Those who think they can defeat me - step forth!

Card Select 1: Roger that. Card Select 2: Orders received. Card Select 3: Let’s go.

Extra Attack: Curiosity killed the cat.

Skill 1: Let’s go! Skill 2: How about this? Skill 3: Whoa, there there*

NP Select: I release my seal! NP 1: Do you desire the sight of my visage so much? ─Then gaze upon this accursed face! This song shall continue until your pitiful life scatters in the wind! NP 2: Make way for my departure to war! ─With the removal of this mask, I declare the existence of the Prince of Lanling. Hmph, step aside for the devil!

Defeated 1: Ah, what joy, to be able to die on the battlefield…… Defeated 2: Can I go no farther than this…! Yet, I have no regrets……

Victory 1: My lord, how was that? Come now, let the heavens hear your cry of victory!

*As if he’s calming his horse

#my translations #fate grand order #fgo #long post

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clownsgobeepbeep · 7 years

Text

Bob's Night Out(Pennywise x Reader Commission)

Commission made by @pommom91 :) if you’d like me to fix something, do not hesitate in telling me!

Words:3,243

“Alright, get back to your places everybody! This is absolutely not the time to be lolly gagging and being foolish! Chop chop!”

You looked up from your current location, staring at the center of the ring inside the circus where you performed. Despite working with swords mainly, the ringmaster thought it would be best that you work with other kinds of tricks like contortion. That was the reason why you were on the ground, trying to do some splits whilst having your head lowered, though your attention was called by your boss.

“Um, do you expect me to go or stay here and continue the stretching?"you shouted with a bit of irritation in your tone, considering how the ringmaster would constantly shout out random orders like a mother: you would be occupied with one thing that was said and he would shout out another when you have not even started.

"No (Y/N), you are to continue practicing that. We’ll have somebody else work on the daggers for now.”

You shrugged and bowed your head down once more, stretching your arm out so that your fingers touched your foot. Once you had counted about ten seconds, you let out a breath you had been holding in to then go back up and place your hands on the lower part of your back. Right when you did that, you felt a strong gush of wind hit your features before turning and noticing that somebody had passed by you at a quick pace. Eventually, you let out a smile when you the behind of a gingered male’s head.

“Robert!"you called out which caused the person to immediately stop their tracks, taking a quite long moment before you saw them turn around with a smile.

"Hello (Y/N), I see you are practicing your stretching, yes?"the person asked as you placed your legs together and lifted your arms to then jump onto your feet, surprising the man as always.

"Yup!"You now stood in front of him before he slightly fidgeted in place and adjusted one of his suspenders, then doing that again when it slipped off and made him let out a nervous chuckle. "And what have you been up to?”

“Oh, not very much really,"he started before glancing to the side and noticing some of the other circus performers glance at the both of you, some with a smirk as if knowing what was going on in between you two. "I’ve had some problems with the new acts Mr. Smith has been making us do.”

“Oh? And what are those?”

“They don’t really matter, all that really matters is that I am a mere clown that clumsily dances and entertains children. I was not made to breathe fire, or get knives thrown at!"he exclaimed, then shrinking down a bit when he realized he was a bit too loud and only attracted much more attention. "Yes we work in a circus, but I might end up being the reason we lose our popularity, especially since Mr. Smith suggests that I drop the clown act for the time being. He says it grows much more childish as time goes by…”

With a frown that was then turned into a sympathetic smile, you let out a small giggle before gently placing a hand on the side of his arm.

“Well, maybe he thinks that you would be good and skilled with other things! I mean yes, your Pennywise the Dancing Clown persona is pretty popular amongst kids, but maybe they don’t really want any of that anymore?"you asked, not entirely sure what it is you could say to make him feel better about the situation. "Or maybe, you just need to take a break from all that.”

“But I don’t want to take a break, I came to this circus as a clown and I have stayed at this circus because I was and am a clown.”

“Aww Bobby, there really is nothing to worry about. A circus contains many, many wondrous things!”

“When its performers actually know how to put up the act,"he simply sighed to himself before turning away to obviously leave. "And like I said, what does it matter? I guess I will just to get used to the changes and accept them, huh?”

“I believe so…"you whispered and saw that he let out a small smile before he lifted his gloved hand to give you a soft wave that you then returned before he finally started to walk away and was yelled at by Mr. Smith. "And I…believe that you also don’t really feel anything towards me…”

With a deep breath that you sucked in momentarily before finally releasing, you adjusted your outfit before bending down to reach your toes, never being conscious over the fact that Robert had turned to discreetly take a small glance at you with a worried expression.

When he realized that you thankfully yet unfortunately not turned to look back at him, especially due to your current position. He exhaled and thought to himself as his head fell back against one of the tall magician boxes he was currently leaning against. Robert shut his eyes in a bit of irritation because he was not exactly comfortable with his new tasks and already had enough of Mr. Smith’s yelling that could be heard throughout the entire tent. Although, there was a certain feeling in him that he found to be much stronger and bothersome than his annoyed one.

Regret.

He brought his hand to his face and ran it down his features, practically pulling his face down as his other hand self consciously went to his hair and clutched a handful of it before slightly tugging.

“For God’s sake Robert…you really are an idiot…"he mumbled to himself whilst doing his best to not yell instead. "You can’t just take out your anger at anybody, especially (Y/N)!”

Now both of his hands were practically slapped onto his face in the softest of manners, covering himself because of his fear of even looking ahead. Hands still covering his eyes, he let out small murmurs that were continuously deprecating him and his actions, saying how he could have done so much better.

“Hey Bobby!"he took a moment before quickly lowering his hands which he then hid behind his back, smiling as if he was not having a small breakdown in his head with insulting thoughts.

"Howdy there,Max."he greeted before the intruding male stepped over to him and eventually leaned himself against the same box Robert was on. "Is there…something you need?”

“What,me? Nah. Just came to talk to you…And maybe hide from Mr. Smith who wants me to practice some things with swords."Max tilted his head a bit so that he could properly whisper into his friend’s ear. "In between me and you, just seeing your little darling hold a sharp object scares the hell out of me.”

“Sh-she is not my girlfriend, you already know that there is nothing in between us.”

“Sure thing Bob, but we all know there is some little thing going on in between you two. You guys are practically teasing us with all your flirting and looks that come here and there.”

“Shut it Max, she would never be interested in somebody like me! I’m just too…soft for her.”

It was quiet for a moment as the two men stared at each other before Max felt his lips twitch and eventually turn into a smile he could not hold back, then opening his mouth widely as loud laughter was released.

“Oh Bobby!Haha, god damn Bobby,whoo! You know why I be laughing at this?"With an irritated groan and a facepalm, Bobby shook his head as if he had not known the reason for such a commotion. ” ‘Cause…'cause you really are too soft!“

Despite the anger, Robert kept his mouth shut as his friend continued to cackle at his misery, though he eventually calmed down and took a deep breath. After his last pant and sigh, he placed a hand on Robert’s shoulder, or he at least tried to considering their height difference.

"Alright, alright Bob…look, I’ll make a small deal with ya if you can help me out with my Mr. Smith problem, yeah?”

“What is it that you need?”

“Look look, it’s not really that big of a deal since we just helping each other out! You help me get Smith off my back and leave the sword play for somebody else, and I give you some tips while being your wingman for (Y/N!)” For a moment, Robert felt that it was a good idea until he remembered all the times his friend intended getting some lady friends to talk to him, and eventually getting a smack to the head.

“Yes,um…no.”

“But Bobby! Come on Mr. Gray, don’t you want to already be with your dream girl? In all honesty without any teasing, we all really do think that you two go together and that she really does have somethin’ for you!”

Once again, Robert remained quiet and crossed his arms as his eyes looked down, but he eventually glanced towards Max who had one of his rare smiles, a quite hopeful and sincere one. With a sigh, the ginger smiled back at him.

“Alright, I believe that we may work on this deal of yours.”

“Max, I am now thinking that this may not really be the best moment to do this.”

“Aw, Bobby! You certainly can not chicken out before you even see your lady friend! You need to at least confront her, then you can run away in fear before the regret settles in!”

“Max…”

“Alright Bobby, just calm it and don’t let your nerves get to ya!"the shorter man slapped a palm to Robert’s arm which caused him to flinch, right before his grin faded away. "Wait a minute…I got it!”

“Wait,Max!"and in an instant, Robert’s friend had fled to who knows where as his previous worry had now began to grow and spread throughout his body. He adjusted his suspenders as he cleared his throat, somewhat hearing Mr. Smith yell at Max who eventually scurried to the secret "hideout” the two males were currently in to avoid the world.

“What is…that?"Robert asked when his eyes caught sight of a miniature box Max ran to him with in his hands.

"Oh,this? Haha…this is what is going to give you that boost of confidence you’ve been needing for so long Bobby boy!"Max reached into the box and pulled out a glass bottle with a dark liquid inside, an old label wrapped around it. "This…is some of the best stuff you will ever find.

"Max, you know that I do not drink any of that. I don’t think this is a good idea in any way. Besides, neither my stomach nor I am strong enough to drink something like this.”

“Would you just stop your worrying? There is nothing wrong with this, it’s just going to help you so that you really don’t chicken out in front of (Y/N),got it? Robert, you know that you can trust me.”

Robert stared at his friend and gave him a look that came quite the many times, but then the man thought to himself for a moment.

“Maybe…maybe I really do need to loosen up,huh?”

“That’s the spirit Bobby! Now here, drink up! You’re gonna have all the other ladies after you too!”

Robert was handed the bottle which Max had previously opened. He brought it up to his face and took a small sniff of the alcohol that was contained inside, thus resulting in him scrunching his face in pure disgust while lowering the bottle out of instinct. He slightly gagged but then gulped so that nothing would come out of his mouth, then bringing it back up to touch his lips momentarily. After a while of hesitation and doubt, he parted his lips and tilted the bottle so that he could finally drink some of its contents.

“There ya go Bobby-”

“Ah!This is disgusting I hate it!” Robert exclaimed as the sleeve belonging to his free arm wiped at his mouth, the other being careful to not drop the drink which would have probably gotten Max upset. “How-how is this supposed to help me? I just feel like vomiting!”

“Well this is practically your first time drinking, so it may take a small while to settle into your system…”

“I do hope it doesn’t take very long…and when it does do so, that it doesn’t last very long…I am having a real headache right now Max.”

“Ah it’s fine, it happens to everyone on their first drink!"Max pat Robert’s back which caused him to let out a burp that was fortunately not loud. "Now come on, tally ho my son!Get in there Mr. Gray!”

Robert nodded as he handed the bottle to Max who gave him a thumbs up, not really taking into consideration the fact the his friend currently had one hand holding his head as his vision begun to blur itself.

“Alright (Y/N), take a break from all the stretching. You’re going to end up exhausted by the time you get to bed missy."Mr. Smith told you with a slightly joking tone.

You nodded with a smile before getting up and brushing off any dust that your clothes may have caught, walking away so that you could shower and then sleep. Although, your agenda was obviously interrupted when one of the circus’ strongmen approached you with a smile you knew all too well.

"Hey there, Ivan. Here to try to woo me again?”

“Ah m'lady, if it were not for the relationship you hold in between you and the clown, then perhaps I would.”

“Oh Ivan, please. We all know that there is nothing in between me and Robert.”

“Is that so? It does not seem that way to me, or anybody really.”

“I swear it.”

Robert continued to groan to himself with the new pain in his stomach that only made his headache feel worse. He limped towards where it was he could hear your voice, obviously discussing with somebody else.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)?"he murmured out, not being too aware of the fact that several eyes were on him as he waddled over to your location as he leaned on whatever stable object he could find.

"That clown seems to be very interested in you though.”

“No he does not. Besides,"Robert heard you say, finally feeling his head clear up and allow him to comprehend the current situation, noticing that you stood in front of one of the new members. "Even if Robert did feel anything for me…he,um…

With the now able to perceive mind and eyes, Robert felt his own perk up a bit in hope. Maybe you were going to say something about your true feelings?

"He,what?”

“He is too sweet for me, he’s just…not the type of man I see myself with really.”

And that was it, that was what made Robert’s eyes widen before he glanced down with a now hurtful chest. He leaned against what he believed what was a box, but was actually a curtain that he accidentally threw down as he left.

Robert quickly dashed out before he eventually found himself outside of the circus tent, realizing that it was quite dark and not much could be seen except the stars in the sky along with some lanterns burning afar. Although, he realized that two of the lanterns that most likely stood together had moved to the side and turned off for a moment, but then the fire was lit once again. It was almost as if they were two eyes blinking which created an unsettling feeling in Robert who squinted his eyes to have a better view, especially when the two “lanterns” turned off at the same time. Though he felt curious and confused, he shook his head with eyes shut before he looked up ahead and noticed that they no longer turned back on.

Robert let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his head before he began to walk again, not exactly having a destination in mind nor idea of where it was he was even headed. He looked up ahead, eventually coming close to a lantern that he turned to, blowing out the wax candle that was held inside it. For some reason, darkness was all he wanted around him in that moment.

Robert bit his lip, not really knowing what else he was supposed to do except think about you. He never realized that a small smile had crept onto his face and replaced his original frown. What he also had not realized, was that there was a presence lurking nearby…sneakily creeping up to him as well.

“Damn…what am I supposed to do…what am I supposed to do with myself most of all?"he asked out loud, almost as if he was asking somebody and awaiting an answer. "I am such a fool…a young woman like that,ha! Somebody like me could never turn her head, I am just the poor dancing clown.”

He kicked a rock that skipped away from him and landed near a bush where two eye like lanterns hid in between the bushes, and Robert had never noticed them. He strolled past the plant that slightly shook, thus resulting in Robert becoming a bit alarmed.

“M-must be the wind…"he whispered to himself, eventually realizing that for some reason there was no trace of wind which he immediately ignored. "Or just…a raccoon?”

There was not very much that he could even think of considering how his thoughts were and would only be filled with you, especially after what he saw. He could only remember all the good times when you willingly talked to him for some reason rather than all the other men in the circus, or even with Mr. Smith himself! He tried to shake the thoughts away, but his mind could only keep on going to those say moments and how he saw you with the strongman. Not exactly the best sight, especially if the silly and absurd words every one of the circus performers told him.

“Aww Bob, (Y/N) is practically head over heels over you!”

“The girl can’t live without ya!”

“She is practically begging that you take and claim her for yourself sweetheart!”

No…no she is not, and she never will. Not with him at least, not with the Dancing Clown that only children admire and gets made fun of by all kinds of adults. The Dancing Clown who has only made her laugh because he’s a clown.

Robert soon found himself at the end of Derry, or at least what could be considered the civilization portion. In front of him was the forest that not many dared to go into at this time, but in the moment he really gave no care and just needed to isolate himself from everybody. Taking one last glance behind him, he frowned before he walked into the woods and was soon completely surrounded and concealed by old and new trees.

#pennywise x reader #commission #pennywise x reader commission #pennywise imagine #robert gray x reader #robert gray imagine

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sugarmusicnews · 4 years

Text

From Jive Talking and Eyeballing Facebook Group

It all began with a band called Zennith in Brakpan near Johannesburg in 1977. Dutch born Lucien Windrich began playing with school friends which included bassist Benjy Mudie, the future South African music custodian. The band changed its name to Void and the following year was joined by Lucien’s younger brother, Erik also born in Holland. Even though the band had won a battle of the bands in Joburg in 1978 they were battling to find paying gigs in South Africa. The band found the opening they needed in Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, on the live circuit. The guys spent 8 months there together with drummer Danny de Wet (Petit Cheval & Wonderboom) and bassist Terry Andalis. In 1979 the band recorded a cover of the Knack’s smash hit My Sharona but it was the B-Side Magicia that took off and reached number 4 on the country’s charts. Here is My Sharona, Void style…

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Can’t seem to find a copy of Magicia. Lucien? Q. Hi Lucien, thanks so much for Jive Talking with us in South Africa. So, one could say that you had your first taste of success in Rhodesia. It is obvious that you had your African spin right from the start, even with Void, and your version of My Sharona has that tribal influence. Did you listen to tribal music and was this the main influence on your music? Who were you listening to at the time? A. In the late 70’s I was listening to rock bands like Grand Funk and Bad Company and prog rock bands like Wishbone Ash and Genesis and learning to play guitar like all the guitar players back then. The local South African influence came later in the early 80’s during our residency in East London when we started afresh as a three-piece.

I don’t think we had an obvious tribal influence back in the 70’s. We were just experimenting with various rock and pop idioms. As ‘Void’ we went from one extreme to the other. We composed and performed a 17 min prog rock epic called How Calm the Storm which people would sit and listen to quietly throughout. And then we put a middle-of-the-road song called Magicia on the B-side of My Sharona. It was an eclectic mix of stuff.

Going to Bulawayo in 1979 was the first professional residency gig for the four of us, me Erik, Danny and Terry. We told ourselves from the outset that we would only do residencies playing cover songs as long as we could write and perform our own stuff as well. So it was a real boost when people requested our own stuff. It gave us the confidence to continue writing. Those early residency gigs were an invaluable learning curve for us towards developing our own original style and sound.

We had our first success in Rhodesia with a cover version of My Sharona because the original wasn’t allowed to be played due to sanctions. It was fun watching everyone do ‘the pogo’ when we played the song in the club. There’s even a video of us doing the pogo in the Zimbabwean TV vaults somewhere. What we never expected was to be playing to young soldiers who had been in the bush for six weeks shooting and killing people, and then coming into the club to dispel their tensions. We quickly learnt to keep them entertained with our music and performances which helped to prevent outbreaks of violence suddenly erupting inside the club. And believe me, it did erupt. We threatened to stop playing if they didn’t stop fighting. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. One of the cover versions we did at the time was a song by Rush called Bastille Day which strained Erik’s voice so much he had to have an operation to remove the nodules on his vocal chords.

And what should have been a highlight for us was when Bob Marley came to play at Independence Day, April 1980. We were literally in the next town. We asked the manager Marjorie if we could have the night off and she said no. Can you believe it? Like good Catholic school boys we did as we were told. WTF! Void returned to South Africa and decided to change their identity after Terry Andalis, José “Aggi” de Aguiar and Danny de Wet departure in 1982. Lucien, Erik and third brother Karl, the band’s manager, changed their name to éVoid and it became a three piece with Georg Voros on drums who was replaced by Wayne Harker early in 1983. éVoid built up a large, loyal following which started in East London and then spread like a forest fire over the next 4 years. The band were creating a highly original and subtle fusion of Afro-rock (which they christened ethnotronics), which was different from the more traditional sounds of their contemporaries, Juluka and Hotline, or the rock-based Tribe After Tribe, Ella Mental, Via Afrika, Flash Harry and Neill Solomon’s Passengers. éVoid conveyed immediacy, simplicity and warmth of spirit of other Afro-rock bands with their newly painted faces, tribal dances and South African jive rhythms. Q. Your style, was it based on any one African culture like the Ndebele patterns and the Zulu bracelets and beeds or a combination of those and others. Who made your outfits and what did the African people think of it? Did they give you their blessing? A. The eVoid style was developed in East London when we were faced with becoming a three-piece. It was a deliberate attempt to create what Aggi called Soweto New Wave – a fusion of rock & mbanga grooves, jangly guitars, punchy keyboard riffs and a local South African influenced image. But vocally we were still mainly European sounding. We weren’t interested in being as indigenous as Johnny Clegg much as we respected him. We wanted to create our own punky afro-pop style. Plus we were into the nu-romantic image at the time.

My ex-wife Kay designed and made the clothes and Erik’s ex-wife Linda helped make them. They were called K-rags and we loved wearing them. It really helped define our local white South African image at the time. We commissioned a whole lot of African women to make the Ndebele beadwork merchandise for us. We gave them the eVoid logo and told them to incorporate it into the designs as they wish. Yes I admit it was a cultural appropriation but we never exploited anyone. Our feeling at the time was that we were promoting local music and images. And we were financially supporting groups of women who were happy to be given the business. Did they give us their blessing? Well, at no time did anyone of them refuse the work. As to what they actually thought of us, I don’t really know. We told them they were making merchandise for the band and they never objected. Success arrived when WEA (now Tusk) signed them to a recording contract. The band released their debut self titled album éVoid in August 1983 which yielded their first single Shadows. It was backed by the infectious Dun Kalusin Ta Va, which had become a hallmark of their sound. Shadows peaked at number three on the national charts in November and, to this day, remains a staple of South African rock and pop-oriented radio stations. Here is that classic single performed to adoring fans at Ellis Park in 1985.

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Q. That was probably one of the greatest era’s in South African music and those concerts at Ellis Park were magical. Can you recall any special moments at the Concert in the Park? A. It was an emotional high for us. Three weeks after playing the biggest and most prestigious concert in Joburg we left for the UK. Towards the end of playing Shadows it dawned on me that it may be the last time we ever played in SA again. And what a gig to be ending it on. I have been known to be melodramatic.

It was magical stepping out on stage early in the evening and seeing a sea of faces stretching out and upwards towards the top of Ellis Park stadium. I will never forget that. Amazing! People often ask what it feels like, and to be honest once you’re actually playing all you can see are lots of tiny heads bobbing up and down. You’re really just performing to the front rows with whom you can have some kind of connection. And then when Erik starts waving his hands in the air from side to side, and you see 100’000 people responding, there’s nothing quite like it. It’s a huge high!

I can remember being backstage with Johnny Clegg on the day, along with some other musicians getting ready. We hadn’t met or spoken before and we exchanged pleasantries about how wonderful this gig was. He complimented us on Shadows which was a lovely thing to do. That whole day and everything leading up to it was a sign that we were at the top of our game. And we were about to leave that all behind.

The weird thing is we nearly didn’t even do the gig. We were offered the gig a few months earlier knowing it was for a worthwhile cause but we had already booked our flights to the UK so we turned it down. The organisers offered it to us a second time and by then the hype was building about how momentous the gig was going to be, featuring 25 of the top acts in South Africa at the time. So we agreed. Thank God we did. Imagine if we had turned it down? It would’ve been our ‘Dylan misses Woodstock’ moment. For us, I mean.

What we’re really proud of is the fact that the SA organisers conceived and actually pulled off this benefit gig for Operation Hunger six months before Bob Geldof launched Live Aid. Yesss! éVoid had found their niche and this time found them at the peak of their creative spirit. The follow-up single Taximan was released in February 1984 and it got to number 6 on the national charts..

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Later that year, I Am a Fadget became the band’s third single. This version was performed live at At The Half Moon , Putney in 2015….

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and here are the lyrics…. https://genius.com/Evoid-i-am-a-fadget-lyrics Q. So good to see you still playing this after all these years. I would assume that it is mostly old ex South Africans jumping around or are the true Brits also getting into that now? Would you like to comment on where the name Fadget came from as there have been a number of different theories and it is maybe time to set the record straight so to speak. A. Are there many theories about what a Fadget is, really? I’d love to hear them. Erik and I wrote the song in a rehearsal room one day, and when it got to looking for lyrics for a particular section I blurted out ‘I am a Fadget’ and we burst out laughing because it obviously sounded like ‘faggot’ which was a ridiculous choice and not what I had intended. You see, I liked this British artist called Fad Gadget, and whilst developing our pseudo African image, to be seen as fashion icons or ‘fad gadgets’ must have been at the back of my mind. So when I blurted it out as a possible lyric it came out as ‘fadget’. We weren’t seriously going to use it cause people might think we’re calling ourselves ‘faggots’ which as you well know is a derogatory term for gay men. But as so often happens when you try and replace it with something else, the song loses something. So we went with it in the end. Our colourful jive image now had a name.

When we arrived in London we played at the Springbok Bar for many years, first in Paddington then Shepherds Bush and finally in Covent Garden. And yes like you say mainly all ex-pats. eVOID then was just Erik and I with a drum machine and bass loops. Every now and then Colin, one of the ex-pats would organise a booze cruise on the river Thames and we would experience a few hours of absolute mayhem on board. We also played on the Queen Elizabeth cruise ship which was docked at Victoria Embankment. It was a lot of fun.

Did the Brits get into our music? Yes they did. We played at some smaller pubs and clubs and sold loads of CDs but without an international album and English management we couldn’t get onto bigger venues and tours. We did a gig at the Astoria in Tottenham Court Road, and a small tour of Germany in the late 80’s with Ilne Hofmeyr on bass and Richard Devey on drums. That was great. In fact I remember this German guy coming up to me afterwards saying ‘that guitar, is INXS, ja? He was referring to my Junk Jive riff of course. ‘No it’s not’ I replied. ‘It’s just some Aussie shits stealing our thunder!’ éVoid were performing with not for dedicated fans — “fadgets”, as they were known — dressed in almost equally outrageous and colourful ethno-gypsy garb, who queued for hundreds of metres to see them. We all used to go and see them at the Chelsea Hotel in Berea, near Hillbrow and the venue was always packed. I can recall going to one of éVoid’s gigs at the Chelsea only to be told the club was full and I had to go clubbing elsewhere… “Oooh La la Laa, I like it ” Q. Do you remember those Chelsea Hotel gigs? I only managed to go to a few but heard that you played there many times…. Like how many? A. Can’t remember how many gigs we did there but without a doubt the Chelsea Hotel years were legendary. It was 1983, the same year we recorded our first album, and fadgets were queuing round the block to come and see us. It was an extraordinary sight. We lived round the corner so we couldn’t even go to the shop to get some milk for fear of being caught without our fadget gear and make-up on. I remember our drummer Wayne being stoned a lot; Karl our brother/manager was running the door and it was where we wrote Shadows. We used to rehearse in the club during the daytime which was handy. I don’t know if you know the story about Shadows nearly not making it on the album. What happened was we had already decided with WEA Records which songs we were going to record and put on the album. And then we wrote this new song called Shadows and I remember saying to Benji we have to include this new song we’ve just written and he said no, the track listing had already been agreed, and that he couldn’t change it so late in the day. Erik and I pleaded with him and he eventually agreed. But that’s not the end of it. Whilst recording the song, the studio engineer told us the song would never make it. Well you were wrong, Richard. Every night we played at the Chelsea Hotel the dance floor would dip inwards and creak from the weight of people jumping up and down to Shadows. I thought the floor was going to break and we’d have a catastrophe on our hands. Which did happen when we were on tour at Stellenbosch University; the floor collapsed and a group of people tumbled and disappeared. And then people pushing from behind caused an even bigger pile-up. Crazy stuff. They eventually laid a couple of tables across the hole for people to dance on. Luckily it never happened at the Chelsea. Occasionally the Chelsea party would spill out onto the streets though. That was fun. I particularly liked the State of Lumo theme we designed for the stage. Nic Hauser helped design and build a lot of the sets, and he also designed the cover for the 12-inch version of ‘I am a Fadget’. What’s happened to Nic, I wonder? The band went on a gruelling 3-week national tour playing to packed venues on the Durban University Campus, Bloemfontein, Cape Town but they ran into problems before the start of their Eastern Cape leg of the tour. In Grahamstown military police arrested drummer Wayne Harker for being on AWOL since December 1982 from his 2 year national service. Original drummer Danny de Wet was hurriedly recruited to complete the tour. Harker was discharged in March 1984 and the band was back in business. In September 1984 their debut album was high in the national charts which was rare for a local band competing with the big international acts of the time. While this was happening their three-track 12″ maxi single Kwela Walk/I am a Fadget/Tellem and Gordon, was receiving rave reviews.

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Q. This song and in fact a lot of your music had a definite crossover appeal. Is that what you were hoping for and did you play to many mixed-race crowds? Did you have many “black” fans and friends at the time? Kwela Walk was a great tune. Erik wrote it with crossover appeal in mind but we didn’t get to play to many mixed race audiences. We once did an outdoor township gig and were viewed with amusement. There were more people sniggering in the crowd than actually grooving to the music. Which pretty much says it all. We were a white nu-romantic pop band not an African groove machine, much as I would have liked to have had more of that in our music.

Having said that, I was exposed to mbaqanga music whilst working in an African record shop which came out later in my guitar playing. Junk Jive comes directly from my early attempt to create a hybrid mbaqanga punk sound. Taximan was another example of creating an interlocking groove. Baghiti Khumalo loved playing the bass on it. We bumped into him in London a few years later when he was gigging with Paul Simon and he said how much he enjoyed doing the track. He asked why we weren’t doing what Paul Simon was doing. That was our intention, I said, when we left SA. But It’s not as simple as that. In South Africa we were big fish in a small pond and in the UK it’s the exact opposite. Plus we’re white South Africans. During the three prominent years of our career from the end of 1982 to the beginning of 1985 we played to young white audiences. That’s who the management and record companies targeted, and that’s the demographic we attracted. Not many clubs were multiracial back then. I had more relationships with black people in the 70’s when I was working in an African record bar called ‘American Music’, and when I frequented black music clubs in downtown Jo’burg. In terms of lasting friendships back then, not many. We lived our whirlwind lifestyle in a bubble. That’s what it was like. The band usually attracted good press coverage though éVoid were on occasion labelled as androgynous misfits, pretentious white boys in beads, and shallow-minded slaves to fashion and rhythm. In 1984 the group won a prestigious Sarie Award for “best arrangement and production of an album”, and the single I Am a Fadget landed them the “best contemporary artist” award. On Saturday 12 January 1985, the band performed at the Concert In The Park in support of Operation Hunger to an estimated 100,000 people, along with Hotline, Via Afrika, Juluka, All Night Radio, Ella Mental, Steve Kekana, Harari, Mara Louw and The Rockets. This is Junk Jive live at the Concert in the Park…

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Q. How did you get along with your contemporary bands at the time? A. That’s a good question. Um…at some point from 1982 onwards we were totally focussed on our music and on developing our sound and we rarely met up with any other bands. Although I have to admit that when a fire gutted our equipment in 1982, well before we had any success, many local bands did a benefit gig for us to raise money so we could replace our equipment. It was such a touching thing to do and we really appreciated it. But generally speaking we didn’t mix with other bands that much. In the early days as Void we did a gig at the Polo Club in Springs with our East Rand contemporaries The Radio Rats. That was a big deal at the time, and Ozzie went on to play for them years later. And I also developed a close bond with Wonderboom in 2006 which came about when Danny de Wet asked me to fly out and produce the City Of Gold album. That was a great experience. Not only did we produce an album together I even got to skydive with the boys. But during the eVOID heyday in the early 80’s we didn’t have much contact with other bands. I mean, I Ioved Ellamental and Via Afrika but we didn’t move in the same circles, so we never got to meet and chat much. We certainly didn’t hang out at clubs all night, that sort of thing. And neither did we do any drugs or heavy drinking at the time. I’m talking about Erik and I. Wayne was a law unto himself. But no, really. I smoked dope when I was younger but not during the eVOID years. And the same for Erik. We were the Nerdy Fadgets! Oh dear, maybe you shouldn’t print that. We were also both in serious relationships at the time which probably had something to do with it. In intervening years the Windrich brothers were going through a period of personal introspection: they had reached the pinnacle of their career in South Africa and perhaps it was time to head overseas. They were not happy with the production of their first album and Eric had received his call up from the SANDF. Wayne Harker quit éVoid to join the Cape Town band, Askari and in 1985 the brothers left for London where they set up an eight-track studio in their garage and performed as a four-piece with fellow South Africans, Ilne Hofmeyr on bass and Richard Devey on drums. For most of 1986 they worked on their second album: Here Comes the Rot from which WEA released the single Dance the Instinct/Sergeant Major. This is the demo for Dance the Instinct…

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Q. So the original plan was that this was to be released as a single in South Africa but that never happened? Your decision or WEA? A. Dance the Instinct was definitely released as a single in SA. Actually I’m glad you put up the demo of Dance the Instinct in the link. I prefer that version. The band learned that their infectious Afro sounds did not appeal to British A&R executives and no new opportunities presented themselves. Meanwhile back in South Africa, WEA released . . . Here Comes the Rot in December 1986, to coincide with éVoid’s six-week nationwide tour of the country. This is Altar Pop which contained the line “Here Comes the Rot”

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Q. That tour went very well didn’t it and you were playing to packed houses again. perhaps it may have been a better option to stay and plan a strategy to invade the USA instead? Were your albums released in the USA and if so how did they fare? No. There was no penetration into the US market. Sometime in 1983 Mutt Lange saw us playing at the Chelsea Hotel and he told Zomba Records about this young band he had seen in SA. Zomba records offered us a 9 year deal, the same deal that was offered to The Stone Roses who accepted it. Karl, our older brother/manager advised us not to go for the deal as it was tying us up for too long. Had we accepted the deal we would have become international artists for a few years before ending up in court, like The Stone Roses did fighting to get out of the contract. Do we have any regrets? It’s always nice to have your music heard and appreciated far and wide but it wasn’t to be. We will never know what might’ve happened. It’s a toss of the coin as to what the future holds … I wasn’t doing much astrology back then.

In the blurb leading up to this you mention that our ‘infectious Afro sounds did not appeal to British A&R executives’. It wasn’t so much the music as us being white South Africans and our bizarrely colourful image that they objected to. I’ll tell you a story. It was snowing in the UK in Feb 1985, and Erik and I went to our first and only appointment with Warner Brothers dressed like African warriors. We were excited but nervous. The young A&R man who met us, dressed as a Deutschpunk in black underground gear, took one look at us and said ‘you guys are like a canary amongst sparrows’. Erik I looked confused. ‘The sparrows’, he said ‘will kill the canary’. Charming. We weren’t off to a great start. ‘Aren’t all white South Africans murderers? he asked. We left soon afterwards. Without a UK record deal of course. In 1993, the group released a compilation called, éVoid – Over the Years, and made it available on cassette for limited distribution at the Springbok Bar in London. Q. Was this tape made up of songs from your first 2 albums or was this a live tape made in London? Any way to get one of these? A. The songs on the cassette tape are available on Spotify under a new title – London Kazet. Have a look. They’re not songs from any of our previous albums. In 2006 we re-recorded a few of them (Mix it Up, Language of Love and Ikologi) and put them on Graffiti Lounge. But the original versions still exist on London Kazet. I still have one or two of the original cassettes somewhere. Lucien and his wife and family live in East London while Erik, wife and family live in North West London. Erik has stated that since arriving in London in 1985 and trying to earn a living as respected musicians has never been easy, and éVoid’s arrival in London at the time of South Africa’s State of Emergency made people suspicious of them. The brothers did benefit from some lucky breaks and, over the next decade, played many clubs and festivals in the UK and Europe especially Germany. Q. I believe you are a qualified astrologer now Lucien and Eric is a Creative And Performance Manager at an English high school? Can you tell us about your work and the “lucky breaks” you have had in London since 1985? A. We’ve both been immersed in work and family life since we arrived in the UK. Erik has worked at that high school for many years developing projects and set designs. And I’ve been helping my wife, a midwife, run her health remedies business whilst doing my astrological research. Family life is important to us, in our own separate ways.

In the late 80’s Erik did quite a bit of film music and we worked together on a film called ‘On the Wire’. Erik had a solo venture called The Vision Thing and he recorded a solo album. I’ve played in two other bands since being in the UK, The Redemption Blues Band and a punky gypsy instrumental band called Victor Menace. Both are now defunct.

My ‘lucky break’ was meeting my gorgeous wife, Cath, on New Year’s Eve, 1992 at the Springbok bar in Paddington. I was on stage, she was in the crowd. I walked off stage to say hello and we hugged each like we had known each for years. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Erik’s ‘lucky breaks’ include meeting his wife Alix in 1991, performing in Paris as “The Vision Thing” and having a permanent job since 2004. Following the demise of Askari in Cape Town Wayne Harker was summoned to rejoin the band (with Ilne Hofmeyr) and record new material. He stayed with the band for for years in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s which included a 6 week German tour. Obtaining a work permit Harker met and married a German girl and settled in Cologne. He developed musically and apart from drums now plays bass guitar, and keyboards and in 2006 he finally released his debut solo album Culture Shock under the Sea Weed monicker and turning it into a live act.

https://www.discogs.com/Seaweed-Culture-Shock-/release/14663113 Q. Do you still hear from Wayne and is he still recording and performing in Cologne? A. No, we have no contact with Wayne. I messaged him on Facebook a few years ago and he never got back to me. But, speak of the devil because today (17 June) he commented for the first time on an eVOID post on Facebook. Someone put up a clip of Shadows at Concert in the Park and his comment was ‘oh ja…those brothers who dropped me like a piece of shit’. Wayne created his own problems in SA and we were forced to use other drummers. So yes we had to dump him. We briefly joined up again in England but then he met a German girl and went with her to Germany. As Erik explains ‘he never said eVOID was his ultimate goal – he just drifted away’. In 2008, after a long hiatus, the brothers Windrich and original drummer Georg Voros released another éVoid album, Graffiti Lounge. This is Under Blue skies with it’s message of hope..

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Q. Your music on this album is more folkish if one can say that? Your new direction? I believe you and Erik lived a family life and then in 2014 you released your greatest hits album; éVoid – Classics. I know you did a small South African tour to promote that CD and that was to visit your parents who are in their 80’s… A. No it’s not a new direction. The only folkish sounding song is Not in my Name although I agree some of the others are more mellow. We really wanted to do another album so Erik suggested we invite Georg Voros and YoYo on bass to join us. Georg flew over and stayed with Erik during the recording of the album in East London. I’d been wanting to record Under Blue Skies for some time and I was really pleased with the way it came out. It’s a nice album. The tour in 2014 was to commemorate 30 years since the release of our first album. It was more a tour of the Barnyard Theatres, too short really. We only did about 7 dates in two weeks. Lots of people complained they didn’t even know we were touring. We did one other outdoor Marquee gig in East London organised by Des Buys (R.I.P) and Themi, old friends of ours since the early days of eVOID. That was great, more like the gigs we prefer doing. And yes it was great spending time with our elderly parents who are now in their nineties and who, believe it or not, are about to emigrate back to the Netherlands in July 2020. What a thing to do at their age. This is an event booklet from éVoid’s LIVE in East London 2014 show..

https://issuu.com/loomweb/docs/mga_-_evoid_27_aug_2014_-_opt Q. Are you and Eric currently working on anything and when I contacted you, you mentioned something about a live video? Could you please share for all the Fadgets who still love your sounds in South Africa? Any plans to come back and tour here any time soon? Any last words for those that may not have read your tweets? A. No we’re not working on anything at the moment but we still have unreleased material in storage that we need to go through. Easily an album’s worth of material.

We don’t have any immediate plans to tour. I’m not even sure if the Johnny Clegg tribute gig is still happening in July.

Any last words? For the brief period of eVoid’s success (1983 -85) there were many years of blood, sweat and tears up to that point. I know it sounds like a cliché but you have to stick at it. I’m talking about young bands who are starting out. Be prepared to take risks and trust your intuition. How you overcome adversity is also important. Always be willing to bounce back and continue the journey no matter what. It’s a privilege to have our music being played even to this day. And that isn’t something you can plan. All you can do is live in the moment. If you want to make an impact on the world around you do it in a joyous and positive way. And never diss your audience. I also want to take this opportunity to thank the many musicians who have been involved in the making of Void – Aden Carter, Terry Andalis, Ozzie Theron and Danny de Wet without whom our inspirational start may never have got off the ground. There were other Void incarnations with line-ups including Neville Holmes (R.I.P.), Benji Mudie, Aggi de Aguiar, Ernie Parker and Kiki. And in the making of eVOID thanks to Ilne Hofmeyr (R.I.P.), Richard Devey, Georg Voros and Wayne Harker, and the session drummer who did Concert in the Park with us whose name I forget. I’ve probably missed out someone. Oh yes, Kevin Gibson the drummer who helped us out of a pickle in Durban when Wayne had to flee the club because the Military Police were after him. Thanks everyone for making it all happen. It would not have happened without your invaluable input and contributions.

Cheers Lucien, Ernesto Garcia Marques 24/06/2020

Great Local Musicians – éVOID – for all the Fadgets | Jive Talking and Eyeballing From Jive Talking and Eyeballing Facebook Group It all began with a band called Zennith in Brakpan near Johannesburg in 1977.

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