#Blushing Tether EP

[kitchenlegrecords]

First radio play for Pieuvre, on Awwww Man, in Prague!

[thescullyphile]

Doubt

post-ep for 5x11 ‘Kill Switch’

The smell of wet leaves almost, almost masks the acrid tang of burned flesh and cloth. Their feet shuffle through the damp decay to the car, Mulder leaning on Scully perhaps more than he ought. They leave a mobile home, Esther Nairn, and the ever-elusive Truth behind them in a wind-whipped pile of embers and ash. The ride home is quiet.

Scully can tell the shock and adrenaline are beginning to wear off when Mulder starts picking gingerly at the charred remnants of his dress-sleeves. His skin is red, angry and blistering from electrical burns. He rests his cheek against the chilly window when Scully tells him to stop messing, ever caring in her no-nonsense little voice.

Overburdened clouds reluctantly leak as she walks him to his door, a promise of a later storm in the drip, drip on her medical bag. Mulder feels stiff and fevered, still reeling from his pseudo-real interrogation even as Scully sits him down on the creaking leather of his couch. Her doctor’s hands check him for a concussion, tethering him back to reality with the run of her hands through his hair. Mulder becomes cognizant of finally focusing when she cups his scratchy cheek in her palm. He knows Scully can tell that he’s checked back in because their eyes meet and she blushes, dropping her hand with uncharacteristic reticence. “Welcome back.” Her dryness is a facade for relief.

Mulder sighs and drops his head against the back of his couch in response. “Another one bites the dust.” He can’t be held responsible for questionable references in this state of mind. Scully just huffs and unbuttons his shirt, leaving him in his undershirt as she clears away the crackling fabric from his burned wrists. She lathers on antibiotics and ointments in silence as he stares at the rain through the window. Only then does he realize that she never turned on the lights, tending his wounds, save for the glow of his fish tank, in the dark.

Fever fades to cool cynicism as Mulder watches Scully kneel in front of him, wrapping bandages around his forearms. “I’m so tired of being left with nothing, Scully. Why does it always have to be a game of smoke and mirrors? Can nothing be straightforward?” He thinks of David’s dead eyes staring listlessly up at him.

Scully heaves a sigh and turns around, resting her back against the edge of the couch so she doesn’t have to meet his eyes. Her cheek flirts with the idea of resting on his knee, and when he smooths his hand on her hair she gives in to the impulse.

“Will there ever be any proof?” He is tired, pondering and not expecting a response.

“Only our scars.”

Her voice is not quite resigned, and they find comfort in resting against each other. He lets himself stroke her hair, wondering if it calms her like it calms him. “Thanks Doc, I don’t know what I would do without you.” She hums in acknowledgement and they stare out at the storm, waiting for it to pass.

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

And tell me if somehow some of it remained.

Thank you so much to @drowninginstarlights for editing!! <3 and to spoilers for ep 91 of skyjacks!

When you drop a stone into water the water ripples out from it, and the ripples are new and different and yet in so many ways the same.

or small moments where deep down Margaret and Travis knew they had found eachother again.

Travis knew it from the moment he’d seen her. There was no mistaking his Margaret. She seemed almost untouched by time, the same hazel brown eyes, the same curly brown hair, his Margaret dressed in white and green and gray.

For a moment, he called to her as if no time had passed. She looked at him with the same curious glance he had known so well. He felt a pang in his chest as she asked him who he was, and he shook the past off. It’s just fate playing cruel tricks on him.

Besides. It’d been almost two centuries, it’s possible his brain was simply projecting what he remembered of her onto the first person he saw that vaguely reminded him of her. That hurt, of course. He remembered a time when he believed that he could’ve recognized his wife blind or bound, by her smile or her voice.

But it certainly wasn’t a coincidence. He wasn't sure what luminary was behind this new twist, but at least it’s original. It doesn’t matter she has the same mole on her cheek, the same spring in her step, the same laugh.

Travis has become really good at not seeing what’s right in front of him.

-

Margaret doesn’t register that something is different for a while. Travis is an intriguing man, certainly brought to her for a reason. He’s special and broken and she’ss curious and a black lily.

It’s not, in fact, until they are sitting together, weaving a spell, and she asks for his name. There are plenty of people in the world who do not go by their names, and certainly it isn't odd for a man like Travis Matagot to have a pseudonym. She knows he’s lying before the fragile spell breaks, but doesn’t strike her too badly, she’s good at her job.

There’s a moment then she thinks: William. Right before he says it out loud.

The spell strengthens and she feels odd in her chest. Like a tight, old knot that she hadn't been paying attention to suddenly unravels.

Magic is weird sometimes, she thinks, dismissing it. In a way, she’s right.

-

Margaret’s childhood has always been spotty. As long as she can remember, it’d felt like hazy static. There are flashes of something, a river bank, a forest, the familiar laugh of Rusalka. There’s no pain tied to it, though, and she’d learnt to accept that sometimes things surrounding luminaries were incomprehensible.

Of course, even if she wasn’t sure exactly what role Rusalka or the River played in her life, but it remained one of the few things she was sure of, and so she would be known in the town she found herself to be a young woman

“Ah, the river's daughter,” they’d tell her, with a slight wary apprehension.

“My name is Margaret,” she would say pleasantly, never knowing who gave her that name but knowing with bone deep certainty it was hers. She always managed to endear herself to most people she met.

She traveled quickly to Aurum, looking for work and purpose. She was, even then, already quite adept with magic and charm, aside from being deeply attuned to other people's emotions. When she learned of the teachings of black lilies, not only a job, but a belief and a way of life, she was immediately sold. It quickly became her life's work and passion. She believed that everyone deserved care, to heal. Her training went well, those years she spent more time becoming aware of her own emotions.

That’s when she realised the grief that she carried, like a gaping hole in her chest. It had always been there, but she was learning that everyone carried around pain that felt like an open wound. It was frustrating, this grief that felt more like longing, no reason for it, just… there. After so long, it had become almost comforting, like a gentle tether, even if she didn’t know to what.

She asked the luminaries for guidance one day, if they could clue her in on the reason for her longing. Three cards she pulled from the deck: The Changeling, The River, The Union.

It felt like an odd combination to understand her grief. The Union and The River could speak of a barrier to a connection of some kind? The Changeling perhaps signifying desire, an impulse?

She was not aware, then, how the cards mocked her in the simplicity of the answer. There was no way for young Margaret to see what was right before her.

So she learned to live with a cobbled together knot of feelings in her chest. She didn’t repress it, she accepted it as a fact of living. It was simply like a melody she had always known.

-

When they kiss again for the first time something in their souls sings, and Travis knows. The kiss is light, warm, it manages to be just on the good side of desperate. It should hurt, but instead it just feels like coming back to a warm home after spending a day in the bitter rain. It can never be quite what it was once, when they were young and believed they were unstoppable, but Travis still looks at her and for a second he manages to forget where they are, when they are.

The pieces don't quite fall together, not yet, but somewhere in the man that has become Travis Matagot, William sings as they are together once more.

-

Margaret has kissed many people before. She’s even kissed people she harboured a great deal of affection towards, and every kiss is different— they always are. There’s a familiarity in this kiss, it's easy, it's well worn. It’s new all over again in its own way. Travis is the kind of man to worm himself into your heart despite yourself and despite himself.

She doesn’t register the unraveling of thread in her chest, she exhales and it goes away and it's all just as natural as breathing.

-

The days in Nordia go by quickly, and with the looming threat of the Mariner and the swiftness with which the ritual needs to be performed there’s no time to examine their own feelings towards each other.

But there are glimpses. There are always glimpses.

There’s the moment when Travis says “Her name was Margaret.” She can’t quite get over the way he says her name.

There’s the moment when Travis hears her laugh and knows that it’s still the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

There’s a moment when they cross a river and Margaret who has never been afraid of water, never water but always, always drowning, feels a quiet and deep fear. There’s Travis' hand in hers and his determined promise: “I won’t let go of your hand.” She trusts him, wholly and completely. There’s a moment where he trusts her, which lets her cast her spell and protect them from the water. This time, this time they cross.

-

It’s on the Uhuru that the moments become more frequent. By then, Travis has become an expert at keeping the two Margarets separate from each other in his mind. One still hurts to think about and the other is right in front of him, he takes what he can get. When you drop a stone into water the water ripples out from it, and the ripples are new and different and yet in so many ways the same.

They sit on the floor together. It’s night and most people are asleep, but Travis’ sleeping schedule has never been what you’d call normal, and being human at night has shattered the last of the routine altogether. It’s a quiet night, Margaret stays up with him for no real reason. They’re both pleasantly tipsy.

He’s tired, in the nice, well worn way that follows a good day, and he’s smiling openly in a way that’s so rare for him. They’re talking about something that will be inconsequential in the morning, and what matters is that there is a strand of hair loose from Travis’ ponytail.

Almost absentmindedly, she reaches to tuck it behind his ear, and when he realises what she’s doing, he giggles. She almost can’t believe it, Travis Matagot giggling. She holds her hand to his cheek and presses a kiss right beneath his eye.

He smiles at her. “What was that for?”

She’s not sure herself, so she just sighs. “For being cute sometimes.”

His offended look doesn’t quite achieve what he’s hoping because of the creeping blush on his neck.

-

Sometimes there are parties on the Uhuru. They’re corsairs on their way to collect a lot of money, but it’s a long journey and they’ve got to do something. The crew get antsy otherwise. So parties it is.

This time Travis is moping on the side. Gable has given up on convincing him to join and has opted instead to spin around with Jonnit in their arms. Sometimes Travis just gets in the mood to be contrary and there is no fighting him on it.

Or well, that’s what everyone else thinks, but Margaret is stubborn and not above using unorthodox methods for Travis to have a good time.

“Come on, Travis,” she says taking his hand.

“I don’t want to,” he says, pouting.

She knows he’s lying, being frustrating on purpose. She fights the eyeroll and smirks instead. She brings his hand to her mouth and kisses his knuckles softly.

“I know you’re just being difficult,” she says softly, enjoying seeing his brain short circuiting for a moment. The way he looks at her, just a little wide eyed. She presses a kiss on his palm before gently tugging him. “Are you going to stop being such a killjoy, dear?”

Travis can only think how he was never able to say no to that look of hers. He stands up reluctantly and makes a big show of sighing and whining about it.

They fall into a dance that feels familiar, but they still have to learn the steps all over again. They twirl around, holding each other's hands, and tripping over each other's feet. He smiles despite himself.

“Wow,” Jonnit comments, as the party progresses, “You made Travis change his mind, Margaret, I don’t know if you’re aware how hard that is.”

She sees Travis turn bright red. He tries to pull her away, dance somewhere away from his friends, but she’s stronger than he is.

“Oh, I am aware,” she says.

“How did you do that?” says Gable, sounding genuinely impressed.

“Who’s to say?” Travis says, just a little too quickly.

-

After the fire, after Dref, they’re all sitting in Dref’s office together. It’s night and Jonnit is practically asleep in Gable’s lap, as they sit in quiet contemplation.

Travis is lounging on a chair, legs propped up on the armrest and he’s picking at the skin around his nails. Margaret is drumming her fingers on the desk, vaguely unnerved by Travis pulling at his skin so vigorously.

“Could you stop doing that, Travis?” she says, not unkindly.

“Hmm?” he says, not stopping.

“You could get a small infection, you know,” she tries.

He rolls his eyes. “You always say that to me, Margaret, and as always, it won't matter in a few hours.”

She knows her pet peeve is slightly illogical, and she knows how the argument will go, has always gone. He’ll be difficult, she won’t quite be able to explain why it bothers her.

“I haven’t ever heard her say that that to you,” Gable remarks distractedly.

She sighs. “I just don’t like to see you hurt yourself,” she says. It's a quiet confession, as she’s aware that he isn’t really hurting at all, it's just a silly little thing that makes her uneasy.

He stares at her for a little too long, and he doesn’t sigh or roll his eyes. And this time the outcome changes. This time, he grabs his deck of cards and starts shuffling them instead.

They don’t say anything, but they lock eyes, and there is a small moment of acknowledgement between them.

They’ve changed, mostly for the better.

-

He transforms with such ease these days, bearing the pain so much better than he used to.

He wouldn’t let anyone see him, before, and certainly not his Margaret. There’s nothing worse than the grief of standing helpless to prevent the pain of someone you love, and he wouldn’t let inflict that on her. She always convinced him to let her hold him afterwards, though, as he sat again in a body that didn’t quite feel his.

Now the night comes and it never even creeps into his mind to ask her to leave.

“Does it still hurt?” she asks.

He rolls his brand new shoulders, the bones cracking a little.

“Well it's not what I would call fun, but.” he says, then shrugs.

She lays a hand on his shoulder, a not quite sad smile on her face.

“Well, at least it’s better now.”

A lot is better now, he thinks.

-

“Stop moving so much,” Margaret says, with a smile in her voice.

Travis sighs. He enjoys the bright colour and tiny detailing she’s applying on his nails but he’s also allergic to sitting still.

“I always do it much faster,” he complains.

“Well, you do have to do it every day, I suppose.”

“That’s exactly why letting you draw black lilies in them was a mistake,” he says “They’ll be gone by the morning!”

She doesn’t look up from her precise handiwork. “Even if they aren’t permanent doesn’t mean they don’t have value now, love.”

That phrase sinks into Travis’ mind, as he stares at Margaret slightly bent over, tongue sticking out, agonizing over a black lily motif on his nails.

He’s fallen in love with her again. Somehow the thought doesn’t make him flinch.

-

There isn’t a single, thundering moment where Travis starts thinking of Margaret as a constant. It had been a creeping thing, so slow Travis hadn’t even realized.

The closest there had been was an unassuming conversation.

It’s a warm day and Margaret has long since given up reading the book in her hands. Travis is coiled around her neck in snake form, distracting her.

“Do we have any plans, after N’goni, I mean?” she says.

“Well it’s not my ship, now is it, Margaret,” Travis says.

“Well pardon me for imagining there might be places you still want to visit,” she says, grinning up at his face on her shoulder.

“I did promise Jonnit, I would go to Akaron with him. So we’ll go there, I suppose,” he says, eventually.

“Never heard of that one before.”

“It’s his hometown.”

“Aw, Matagot,” she says teasingly, “That is almost uncharacteristically sweet of you.”

Snakes can’t blush, but Travis coils around her tighter and hides his gaze in her hair. “I thought I was going to be mortal soon, okay?” he mumbles into her hair.

She runs her hands down the scales closer to her. “Well I am sure we will have a lovely time there,” she says, smiling. “I’m glad my work can be done everywhere.”

A comfortable silence washes over them, eventually Margaret goes back to reading, and Travis basks in her warmth and comfort.

If there have been another person in the room, they might have called the two of them out on the amount of times they’d used the word “we”. But it's just the two of them, not quite realising the thing they have been quietly rebuilding together. Not quite realising it finally feels like they can breathe again.

-

Margaret can’t quite remember it, but she knows, she knows on their wedding day they had made a promise.

Margaret hadn’t been aware she was dead, only aware she was still fighting a river, a different river and she was fighting it in soul if not in body. The current was unbelievably strong, but she wasn’t going to be pulled down and away by the Mariner, of all things. She’d fought with tooth and claw, holding onto her promise to William like a liveline, a tether. Anchoring her to her life and feeling. She wasn’t ready to go, and she was ready to move heavens or raise hell for it.

Sometimes if you fight long enough, strong enough, determined enough, even a puny little mortal caught between life and death on a technicality could catch the gaze of lumin’s eye.

“Do you wish to see him again, is that it? Trying to move us with a tale of spurned love?”

She’s not sure who’s asking.

She isn’t quite sure about anything anymore.

She is losing herself, but if she knows something it’s that she will get out and that she��s Margaret and she’s in love.

“You misunderstand,” she manages to choke out, “He’s the one keeping me here, helping me fight, he’s my rope upon which I will climb out of here.”

He never truly let go of her hand.

Something, someone, many things laugh.

Time has no meaning in the river, and yet it still manages to feel like an eternity before she pulls herself out of the river at the edge of a forest.

-

It's always in the quiet moments of solitary contemplation that you’re able to confront things.

Margaret stares out of the window in her room of the Goose. She doesn't break down crying, but she lets the cold shock wash over her like waves. Her William had been out there all this time, and all this time he hadn't let her go.

He didn’t have to hold on so tight anymore. She was here now, with the tight thread of a promise still between them. He would find her, when he was ready, when he could.

She was going to take some time off, to think. For years now, she’d been secure in her life, but this is different. New and old. Complicated and yet simple. It would certainly be a fun set of threads to unravel, if they were not her own.

She smiles down at the letter anyway. She trusts Travis, she trusts herself, and she knows that there’s no force on Speir that could come between them.

-

Travis finally lets himself know what’s been there in back of his mind for a long time. He’s been so very good at not looking at it.

Alone in his bunk, he raises his fingers to his mouth where she had kissed him, and with trembling fingers he brushes his lips. His long lost lover. He tugs lose the hair ribbon she’d given to him and stares at it.

A million emotions he's never had the words for flood him. He's relieved! He's happy she's out there, that she knows that he'll come look for her when he’s able to. He's afraid of losing her again, he's terrified he’s already lost her. There’s a century of grief he hasn't quite yet processed, he's worried about the fact that this might all be a trick, but also, he’s in love, ecstatic thundering love in his chest. It almost erases all other thoughts from his brain.

Tonight, they each look up at the same sky. There are so many worn promises strung between them and now, this brand new one joins their ranks, fragile and full of hope for the future.

He looks out onto the chaos of the starry night outside, tears full of so many things falling from his eyes. Finally, he exhales.

He isn't drowning anymore, and either is she.

[wewerepromisedsomuch]

Live Review: Wolf Alice @ o2 Academy Birmingham

Artist: Wolf Alice

Venue:  o2 Academy, Birmingham, UK

Date: 16th November 2017

Rating: 9.0/10

London foursome, Wolf Alice roll into Birmingham on the crest of a wave; their current UK tour is pretty much sold out in every major town and city up and down the country and the outfit’s sophomore record ‘Visions of a Life’ hit the lofty heights of number 2 in the album charts (damn you Shania Twain!). Suffice to say there’s a momentum behind the plucky quartet and its full speed ahead from here.

Birmingham’s o2 Academy is a packed sweat box well before Wolf Alice glide onto the venue’s spacious stage and as ‘Heavenward’ announces the band’s arrival it’s evident tonight’s gig is going to be special. The band’s devoted following yelp in delight and sway majestically as the opening track from ‘Visions of a Life’ is transformed from its hazy recorded version into something colossal. That’s very much the overwhelming feeling with Wolf Alice’s triumphant Birmingham outing – every song sounds massive and the Londoners rattle them out with an ushered confidence and poise. Although stage banter is kept to a minimum; there’s enough to engage the crowd – especially when bassist Theo Ellis declares that previous gigs in Brum has garnered the best mosh pits they’ve ever seen. Chaotic scenes are a plenty – kickstarted by the savage punk sound of ‘Yuk Foo’ that rages with a feral vigour. Again, it’s Ellis playing ring leader as he whips the front rows up to a frenzy that matches the track’s caustic charm. Following number ‘You’re a Germ’ fidgets and writhes with a nervous energy before exploding into a mess of frazzled riffs, mirrored by retina scorching strobe lights.   When not inducing mass sing-alongs and unified arms aloft madness – the outfit’s tender side captivates and seduces the sold-out venue. ‘Don’t Delete The Kisses’ shimmers with a dreamy quality as does ‘Blush’. Both moments utilise the venue’s disco ball – with light beams from the side of stage painting the o2’s ceiling with a sky of stars – a fitting visual tribute to the celestial sonic splendour on display.

There’s little to separate Wolf Alice’s early work from their newer cuts – certainly from a crowd reception – the material from ‘Visions of a Life’ are welcomed to the fray as much as oldies from the ‘Blush’ and ‘Creature Songs’ EPs and the band’s seminal debut ‘My Love Is Cool’. ‘Beautifully Unconventional’ and ‘Formidable Cool’ garner huge crowd receptions. ‘Planet Hunter’ and ‘Space and Time’ will soon be held as the same esteem as ‘Fluffy’ and ‘Bros’ – which we might add are bona-fide classics; sparking a set of fine sing-alongs and more circle pits. ‘Moaning Lisa Smile’, taken from ‘Creature Songs’ has always come with a wallop but this time, the song is beyond colossal.

Visually Wolf Alice make for quite the gang, the interplay between vocalist/guitarist Ellie Rowsell, fellow guitarist Joff Oddie and Ellis is magnetic – they easily command the stage, neither of them overshadowing one another but at the same time individually captivating. There’s numerous times where Ellis or Oddie will perch on the lip of the stage, leaning into the mess of bodies in-front of them – which of course provokes more feverous scenes. Whether tethered to her guitar or freed up to roam, Rowsell either slinks around the o2’s stage or, like on set closer ‘Giant Peach’, gets down onto the barrier to scream the track’s dying refrain into the faces of her group’s excitable fanbase.

Triumphant, celebratory and full of youthful exuberance; Wolf Alice aren’t putting a foot wrong and based on tonight’s stellar performance their trajectory is ever skyward.

Photography by Naomi Abbs-Williams

[frangipanidownunder]

The right me for you

Written for @leiascully‘s XFWritingChallenge: Forgiveness

Angsty post Ep for Founder’s Mutation

It must have been the guttural roar of the wind through the trees that masked the sound of the car arriving. It must have been the flickering of the candles on the bench top that hid the flash of the headlights. It must have been the time of the day that left Mulder’s mind smudgy and billowing so that he didn’t register the knocking at the door.

It was 2 o’clock in the morning. A time when he often braved the depths of his memories, dug a trench around the black and white of the clear cut and allowed the murkiness to leach out to entertain the greyness of possibility. It was usually a time for reflection, a time for admonishment. A time for forgiveness.

           It was most definitely not a time that Scully called.

She stood at the screen door, hugging herself. She would have hated his initial reaction – that she looked fragile, but that’s the word his brain supplied. He ushered her through, his heart pulsing as she walked to the living room and sat on the couch. Over their years together, he’d collected these moments in his mind, where she let herself be seen without her armour. He was humbled each and every time. Perhaps especially more so now. Now that she was no longer here every day. Now that she had plenty of time to reconstruct the walls.

           ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She picked at a thread on the cushion on her lap. She was looking at the small table that held a lamp, an old watch he’d found in a suit pocket, a pile of coins, a sticky coffee ring. There used to be photo frames. Miniature ones. Faces captured in bad lights.

           He sat in the chair opposite. ‘The last case, Scully. It was hard.’

           ‘It’s not the case, Mulder.’ She looked up briefly and he saw the dark circles under her eyes. He could see the mole above her lip in the glow of the lamplight. He loved that mole. He loved that she hid it for so long, but that she knew that he knew about it. It was a part of her armour. He understood that the foundation and the powder that covered it were as necessary as the heels and the suits and the badge and the weapon.

           ‘It’s never the case,’ she said, rubbing her forehead. Her voice was sluggish, cracked. ‘It’s just me, my…’

           He leant forward, elbows on knees. ‘Your what?’

           She opened her mouth, but only let out a frustrated sigh. ‘What were you doing awake, Mulder? It’s 2.30 in the morning and I didn’t wake you.’

           He shrugged. ‘Those kids, Scully. Where are they? The casual disregard that Goldman had for the consequences of the work he was doing. Agnes and her baby, her desperation. It was a tough case. I just can’t unwind like I used to.’

           ‘You never could, Mulder. You were always wired on a case.’

           ‘But you used to be able to sleep anywhere, Scully. You would be able to file away the bad stuff along with your reports and get on with the next case. I’ve never met anyone with the ability to compartmentalise quite as well as you. It’s like your super power.’

           She chuffed out a tired snort of laughter. ‘Maybe my super powers need a reboost. I haven’t been sleeping well since we started back on the job. Maybe they put something in the ID these days, some kind of upper to keep the older agents going.’

           ‘Are you sure about this? About your decision?’

           ‘I said there was no choice, Mulder. I meant it.’

           ‘But this case, those children. William…’

           She tucked her legs under her to one side, pulling the hem of her skirt down and hugging the cushion to her middle. She picked up the watch, running the strap through her fingers. ‘We pulled the thread. It’s still unravelling.’

           ‘Should we have left it tangled, Scully?’

           When she looked at him her eyes were wet. The tip of her nose pink. Her lips trembling as she licked them. ‘No.’ She shook her head so that her hair flew, catching across her face. She straightened it, tucked it behind her ear. Cleared her throat. ‘No, no. It’s something we needed to do.’

           ‘You know what I think, Scully? I think that we started pulling the thread a long time before this case. A long time before we rejoined the FBI. I think it was unravelling since he was born.’

           She nodded. ‘And what happens when the thread is straight? When there’s nothing left to unspool? Do we get our answers, Mulder?’

           His laugh was as bitter as her words. ‘I don’t think it works that way.’

           The noise of the watch against the surface of the table seemed to hang between them so that when she spoke again her voice seemed disconnected, almost ethereal.

‘You said you had to put William behind you, when I asked you if you thought about him. How do you do that? How do you not carry him with you everywhere, every day? You say I compartmentalise better than anyone you know, but you have no idea how envious I am of your capacity to do that, Mulder.’

She let out a small sob.

He moved to sit next to her. She sunk against him, shuddering with the weight of her grief. ‘I’m sorry, Scully. I know it hurts. I saw you in that hospital with Mrs Goldman. I saw how what she said cut into you. I wish I could do something more, to take away the pain. But I think you need it. It’s a reminder. A way of making sure you don’t forget. It stabs you in the guts if you don’t nurture it for too long.’ He dropped a kiss on top of her head. ‘I think you need the pain. I know I do.’

The wind lifted the rafters with a series of rattling gusts. The window frames shook. A low howl filled the roof space. Mulder had woken earlier, surprised to find Scully still next to him, her face twisted against his chest. She stirred, rubbed her nose, pushed herself upright and groaned as her neck clunked with each sideways movement.

           ‘Coffee?’

           ‘Please.’

           She took a quick shower and surprised him again when she returned to the kitchen wearing his bath robe.

           ‘I put your linen away, Scully.’

           ‘I know.’

           ‘You look good in mine, though.’

           She looked down at herself and chuckled.

           ‘That’s another of your super powers, Scully. The ability to look better in my clothes than I do.’

           ‘I don’t think I could do your Armani suits justice, Mulder. You fill them out pretty good.’

           ‘Thank you,’ he laughed. ‘You wearing my shirts, though.’

           She sipped on her coffee and he enjoyed watching her blush.

           ‘Are you feeling better, Scully?’

           She shook her head. ‘No. But I think you’re right, Mulder. I think if I lose the pain, I lose too much. I’m afraid to not remember him, I’m afraid to not dream about him. I’m afraid that if I erase too much of him that I’ll erase myself too.’

           ‘When I said I’ve put it behind me, I didn’t mean that I’ve forgotten. I just meant that I’d put the guilt behind me. I’ve learned to accept the past and I’ve learned to accept that I can’t change it. You made me do that, Scully. When you left. You set me on that path.’ He put down his mug and gestured for her to come forward. She put her head on his chest. ‘I think you need to forgive yourself, Scully. I think it’s time.’

           ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for that.’

           He kissed the side of her face. ‘Do you imagine being a family? With William?’

           ‘When I dare myself.’

           ‘In mine, we watch movies and eat popcorn, we climb trees and construct cubby houses out of blankets and build rocket ships, we talk about girls, we shave together.’

           She pulled back and threaded her fingers through his. ‘In mine, I take him to school and I patch up his cuts and ice his bruises and I read him classic novels and I teach him the periodic table and the bones of the human body and how to make pancakes.’

           ‘In my dreams, you are always there too, Scully. Close by. Your presence makes everything whole. I can’t dream without you.’

           She blinked back tears. ‘And you’re always in mine, Mulder. You’re the backbone, the rock, the tether. You hold it all together.’

           ‘Then let me be that for you now I’ll be here to hold it together. Always. Forgive yourself.’

           ‘Oh, Mulder,’ she said, her voice croaking. ‘I’m not ready yet. I’m just not ready.’

           He rubbed her back through the towelling. ‘Okay. But when you are, I’ll be here.’

           ‘I know you will. You told me ’

           ‘Being the rock, the anchor, the glue?’

           She chuffed. ‘No, just being the you that I need.’

           ‘Is that my super power? Being the right me for you?’

           ‘I think that’s more than a super power, Mulder. I think you deserve a sainthood, an altar for worshippers.’

           ‘Halos and deities aside, Scully. I want you to promise me that you will work towards forgiveness. William is out there and we have to believe that he is happy and safe. If we can’t give him that, we fail him.’

           Nodding, she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. She picked her coffee mug up and headed back to the couch. She sat down and put the mug on the table, lining it up with the coffee stain. ‘Where did you put the photo frames, Mulder?’

           ‘In the closet, in a box with your linen and your tea cup and a bottle of shampoo you never used and an earring I found on the floor of the bedroom and a pen you used to carry inside your suit jacket and two old lipstick tubes, Midnight Promise and Burnished Bronze, and an old wallet containing nearly thirty dollars and the pieces of you that you left behind.’

           She gave him a tight, sad smile. ‘In my dreams our house is filled with photos of him, of us, of our family.’

           ‘I’ll get them out again, Scully. If that’s what you want.’

           She shook her head. ‘This is your house now, Mulder. I can’t tell you what to do here.’

           ‘I’m just trying to be the right me for you, Scully.’

           ‘When you say it like that it sounds so needy, so precious. And that’s not what I meant.’

           ‘I’m teasing, Scully. But if there’s a way to bring you back here, I’m going to find it.’ He sucked in a deep breath. ‘I miss you. I miss you more now that I see you more often. I know that doesn’t make sense.’

           ‘It does. Believe me, it does. And I want nothing more than to walk back through that door for good. But I’m not the right me for you, Mulder. Not yet, anyway.’ She picked up the watch and smiled slowly at him. ‘I’ll get this fixed for you. Bring it back next week.’

It must have been the guttural roar of the wind through the trees that masked the sound of the car arriving. It must have been the flickering of the candles on the bench top that hid the flash of the headlights. It must have been the time of the day that left Mulder’s mind smudgy and billowing so that he didn’t register the knocking at the door.

It was 2 o’clock in the morning. A time when he often braved the depths of his memories, dug a trench around the black and white of the clear cut and allowed the murkiness to leach out to entertain the greyness of possibility. It was usually a time for reflection, a time for admonishment. A time for forgiveness.

           And now it was a time that Scully called.

[swissradios-blog]

Radioshow: New music «Indie-Block» (7+8/2017)

Mo, 20.2.17 - Radio Kanal K - 22h CET Tue, 21.2.17 – Radio Rasa – 18h Tue, 21.2.17 – Radio 4 and Radio 4XTra – 21h Wed, 22.2.17 – Radio Rasa – 13h Thu, 23.2.17 – Open BRoadcast – 20h Mo, 27.2.17 – Open BRoadcast – 20h Tue, 28.2.17 – Radio Rasa – 18hTue, 28.2.17 – Radio 4 and Radio 4XTra – 21h Wed, 29.2.17 – Radio Rasa – 13h Thu, 30.2.17 – Open Broadcast – 20h.  For Podcasts and playlists please go to www.facebook.com/leoswissradio

Playlists:

Uncle Ben's Remedy Fire in the field Not far from the tree Submission Submission CD, 2017

2nd Face Mindlapse Nemesis Dependent Dependent CD, 2017

Wild Hold us together Hold us together Music-Delicatessen: Strumbellas, The Spirits Hope Management Management CD, 2016

Wilco Nope Schmilco TBA Phonag TBA Phonag CD, 2016

Lo Fat Orchrstra Imagine Neon Lights Bite It Bite It CD, 2017

Kilmister Stay Clean – live Lemmy Bash II Live at the KiFF Aarau Interview: Steve Gasser from Kilmister and Radio Stadtfilter

Win free tickets for Blossoms (11.2. Plaza Zurich) court. Gagdet Blossoms Getaway Getaway Open Broadcast Open Broadcast SCD, 2016

Preview: Nordklang Interview with Sandro Büchler/Nordklang Festival Desoto Caucus, The Free 4 Nordklang Irascible CD, 2017

Ida Gard Womb Womb Nordklang Open Broadcast CD, 2017

Sir Was A Minor Life Says Hi Nordklang Open Broadcast CD, 2017

Symbio Arctic surfing Phoresy Nordklang Open Broadcast SCD, 2017

Kilmister Stay Clean – live Lemmy Bash II Live at the KiFF Aarau

Part 2

Betontod Freunde Freunde Warner Warner SCD, 2017

Marie Reiter Burn Nazareth Submission Submission CD, 2017 Chunky Steez Interpol Submission Submission

Music-Delicatessen: Rage Against The Machine Bombtrack Rage Against The Machine Open Broadcast Open Broadcast CD, 1991

H Gicht Der Junge mit dem Knüppel Therapy wirkt Tapete Tapete CD, 2017

Nick Cave & Warren Ellis Mama's room OST hell or High Water Warner Warner CD, 2017

Blogspotting: Blushing Tether Tether Submission Submission EP, 2017

Interview: Hell Boulevard – Mattheo Hell Boulevard On the other side of life Inferno Broken Silence Broken Silence CD, 2017

Kilmister Live Lemmy Bash II Live at the KiFF Aarau

Interview: Jonas von Eluveitie Blogspotting: Nihla Vodka Rocks Vodka Rocks Submission Submission SCD, 2017

No Ninja Am I Dance Dance Dance Dance Submission Submission SCD, 2017

Flaming Lips How Oczy Melody MV MV CD, 2017

Redundant Nature, The Empire The Presage Submission Submission EP, 2017

Navarone showtime Oscillation Lautstark Lautstark CD, 2017

Mystic Prophecy Endless fire Ravenlord Massacre MV CD, 2017

Musicpres-review: Metal Hammer, feat. Tracks and quotes

Interview with Joey Roxx from Mystic Prophecy

Kreator Satan is real Gods of Violence Metal Hammer Nuclear Blast CD, 2017

Two Tons Of Steel Bad Attitude Not that lucky Open Broadcast Open Broadcast

[glamglaremusic]

SONG PICK: Blushing - Tether

The Austin, Texas band Blushing comprises two families: after Michelle Soto and Christina Carmona started with music together, they turned to their respective husbands for help on lead guitar and drums. “Tether” is the opening/title cut of their debut EP, featuring four tracks, full of reverb, glittering guitars and dreamy vocals, which sometimes break out almost into prog rock territory. Listen to our Song Pick of the Day now:

https://soundcloud.com/weareblushing/tether?in=weareblushing/sets/tether

The full EP will be released on January 13 and can be streamed now on Soundcloud and Bandcamp.

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Blushing Return with Brooding "The Fires"

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Blushing Return with Brooding "The Fires" @BlushingBand @kaninerecords @MarkGardener @HenryBainbridge

Featuring two married couples — Christina Carmona (vocals, bass) and Noe Carmona (guitar, keys) and Michelle Soto (guitar, vocals) and Jacob Soto (drums), the  Austin-based dream pop/shoegazer outfit and JOVM mainstays Blushing can actually trace its roots back to El Paso, where Jacob Soto and Noe Carrmona grew up as lifelong friends and musical partners.  Jacob Soto and Noe Carmona relocated to…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Blushing Release a "120 Minutes" era MTV-like Visual for Woozy New Single "Sour Punch"

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Blushing Release a "120 Minutes" era MTV-like Visual for Woozy New Single "Sour Punch" @BlushingBand @kaninerecords @MarkGardener @HenryBainbridge

Over the past couple of years, I’ve managed to spill a copious amount of virtual ink cover the Austin-based dream pop/shoegazer outfit and JOVM mainstays Blushing. Featuring two married couples — Christina Carmona (vocals, bass) and Noe Carmona (guitar, keys) and Michelle Soto (guitar, vocals) and Jacob Soto (drums), the JOVM mainstays can trace its roots back to El Paso, where Jacob Soto and Noe…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Blushing Team Up with Miki Berenyi on the Gorgeous and Anthemic "Blame"

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Blushing Team Up with Miki Berenyi on the Gorgeous and Anthemic "Blame" @BlushingBand @kaninerecords @berenyi_miki @MarkGardener @HenryBainbridge

Over the past couple of years of this site’s 11-plus history, I’ve managed to spill a copious amount of virtual ink cover the Austin-based dream pop/shoegazer outfit and JOVM mainstays Blushing. Featuring two married couples — Christina Carmona (vocals, bass) and Noe Carmona (guitar, keys) and Michelle Soto (guitar, vocals) and Jacob Soto (drums), the JOVM mainstays can trace its roots back to El…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: Introducing the Classic Shoegaze-Inspired Sounds of Austin's Blushing

New Audio: Introducing the Classic Shoegaze-Inspired Sounds of Austin’s Blushing

Comprised of two husband and wife couples, Christina Carmona (vocals, bass) and Noe Carmona (guitar, keys)  and Michelle Soto (guitar, vocals) and Jake Soto (drums), the Austin, TX

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

Live Concert Photography: Ringo Deathstarr with Blushing Rosegarden Funeral Party and Lorelei K at Saint Vitus 11/19/19

Live Concert Photography: Ringo Deathstarr with Blushing Rosegarden Funeral Party and Lorelei K at Saint Vitus 11/19/19 @RingoDeathstarr @BlushingBand @RFPBandOfficial @l0releik @saintvitusbar

Live Concert Photography: Ringo Deathstarr with Blushing Rosegarden Funeral Party and Lorelei K at Saint Vitus 11/19/19

Deriving their name from a mashup of The Beatles‘ drummer Ringo Starr and the famed Death Star in Star Wars, the Austin-based shoegazer act Ringo Deathstarr— currently, founding member Elliott Frazier (vocals, guitar) with Alex Gehring (vocals, bass) and Daniel Coborn (drums) —…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Austin-based JOVM Mainstays Blushing Release a Hazy and Mind Bending Visual for "So Many"

New Video: Austin-based JOVM Mainstays Blushing Release a Hazy and Mind Bending Visual for "So Many" @blushingband @darksecretpr @HANDSANDMOMENT

Over the past couple of years, I’ve written quite a bit about the Austin, TX-based dream pop/shoegaze quartet Blushing and the act — comprised of two married couples — Christina Carmona (vocals, bass) and Noe Carmona (guitar, keys) and Michelle Soto (guitar, vocals) and Jake Soto (drums) — can trace its origins back to 2015, when…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Austin-based JOVM Mainstays Blushing Release Woozy and Hallucinatory Visuals for "Dream Merchants"

New Video: Austin-based JOVM Mainstays Blushing Release Woozy and Hallucinatory Visuals for "Dream Merchants" @blushingband @noisyghostpr

I’ve written quite a bit about the Austin, TX-based dream pop/shoegaze quartet Blushingover the years, and as you may recall, the act, which is comprised of two married couples — Christina Carmona (vocals, bass) and Noe Carmona (guitar, keys) and Michelle Soto (guitar, vocals) and Jake Soto (drums) can trace its origins back to 2015 when after several years of writing material on guitar,…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Blushing Return with Wistful and Hazy Visuals for "The Truth"

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Blushing Return with Wistful and Hazy Visuals for "The Truth" @blushingband @riotactmedia @lkearneyish

Over the past couple of years, I’ve written a bit about the Austin, TX-based dream pop/shoegaze quartet Blushing. And as you may recall, the act, which is comprised of two married couples — Christina Carmona (vocals, bass) and Noe Carmona (guitar, keys) and Michelle Soto (guitar, vocals) and Jake Soto (drums) can trace its origins…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: Austin Texas' Blushing Releases a Gorgeous and Ambitious 7- inch Single

New Audio: Austin Texas' Blushing Releases a Gorgeous and Ambitious 7- inch Single @blushingband @thenothingsong

Last year, I wrote a bit about he Austin, TX-based dream pop/shoegaze quartet Blushing, and as you may recall, the act which is comprised of two…