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pueraeternal · 2 months ago

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Yusa Yumeno vs Charlotte: A Madoka Magica Story

Grab your cheese plate, get some cake, and come over to the couch, this side story gets dark. Yu recruits a young psychic, Tesumo, to help her find the Witch Charlotte. Yu longs for her friend Nagisa Momoe and hopes Tesumo can transform Charlotte back to Nagisa.

Part One: Step Inside me

There, on the wall, I see a crack forming, the door should open soon. Yu stood outside the old foundry, her gaze intent on the black crack forming, enveloping its space as though ravenous.

The teen beside her looked up at the old building, wondering "why here" until she saw the ghosts, they clocked out for the day, a pantomime of their time alive, working until they lost connection with their soul. Is this what happens to adults she said out loud, Tesumos voice breaking the eerie silence causing her to jump slightly. "did Yu notice" she thought, "she barely puts up with me as it is, if it were not for my ability to see and talk to the dead, she likely would never speak to me, maybe even kill me? She has this coldness about her, detached from people and feelings. Would she a child, i'm just 12, with her you cant tell". At that moment, the door appeared, it was speckles of black with white light behind it, it looked like, sickness Tesumo thought, no pattern or sense about it...but a vibe, yes, that's it, it has a pattern, emotions! Yu turned stiffly, looked at Tesumo "do your job well" and stepped inside. This was not Tesumos first rodeo with Yu, but it could be her last. Once I find my mother, I can go on my way and try leave this psychopath, it would be far healthier for me. Yu is a psychopath she has slowly grown to love, maybe it was her mothers traits she saw in Yu, and both having a distant mother whose emotions were drowned by either pills, drugs and abuse. Am I...she had a frightening thought, am I like Yu, I mean, will I become her? Finding her mother was a cross she carried daily, hoping to get some resolution to their shattered past. Tesumo took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Part Two: Murderous Urges

As I stepped through, I took a moment to let my eyes adjust. Yu stood ahead of me by several feet, a long hallway lay ahead of us ending at another door. The place was thick with memories, I can see ghosts trying to fit their way through the cracks in the foundation and walls. They are always attracted to me, hopeful that I will find a way for them to get home. All I provide is a prison, they get sucked into me, trapped until I find a use for them. And when I use them, it is a final death always worse than the first one, finality. Their hope makes me sad as I walk by, collecting them in turn.

Yu turns stiffly towards me, "are you prepared". Ugghh, sometimes Yu creeps me out, she is the only person I know who can look at you but not see you, her gaze passes through me like I am nothing, insignificant, just like my mother looked at me. I wish she would notice me for once, like I see her.

"I am ready". Yu stands waiting for me to do my job. I always choose Ronin, today I am feeling creative, mercenaries from the Congo I think, 1961, nasty as they come. I pull strands from my body, waving my arms like a maestro at a orchestra. A symphony emerges from me, soldier ghosts from a forgotten time form in the hallway, 20 of them. Relics of a decade ive only seen in books. Each one wears a grimace, and I feel their thoughts, revenge, murder, mayhem, these were the worst of the worst, Mad Mike's soldiers, "not choir boys" he was famous for saying. I pull back the tendrils of each, like leashes, keeping them in check, their time will come. I reign in their murderous urges.

Yu looks satisfied and turns to continue down the hallway. As she moves, I smell something, cheese, cheese cake, this is not good. "yu" I yell, "Momoe...I mean, charlotte is here too"!!

Part Three: Kyubey Is Broken

The incubators have been searching for this Kyubey for a long time. It was an experiment tried and failed on other worlds, harness the emotions of the unstable. The incubators saw world after world collapse using new timeline tech. Each world an experiment and each one a failure. Finding no benefits to their race, they abandoned this thread of action. The incubators created for this were re purposed but some became unstable themselves and subsequentially killed off. One escaped the tribunals and execution, using the forbidden tech, made its way to this rich new world filled with Humans. Kyubey sequestered themselves deep in a time line where they could play and experiment without meddling from their race. This is where Kyubey found Yusa Yumeno & Tesumo Kabayama, two girls intrinsically broken. What would happen if they became magical girls, what powers would they have and how would they use them. What kind of witches would they become and how powerful....or would they even become witches. Yu, so emotionless, a psychopathy developed from emotional neglect and Tesumo, self aware for one so young, but slowly being consumed by her doubts, self worth and desire for reconciliation. What a fine pair these two made, kyubey thought. The budding architect of death, the seeds of destruction started with these two, and this grand play for Kyubey to toy with. Kittens do love their threads.

Part Four: I Hate yu

Yu stiffens, and smells the air, turns to look at me for authentication of what I just said. I nod and point to the door at the end of the hall. The image has changed from cog wheels and fuzzy black spots to colorful bows and candy. Yu, motions, "lead, and have your minions check for traps". Something is not right here. I walk past Yu and hear her moan, I turn to look, a ghostly form is pulled out of her, a child with long hair and sad eyes. My tendrils reach out and grab her. My eyes catch Yu's for a moment, she stares at me, with emotion, there is a sadness and pleading in her look, Yu has gone from teen going on forty to teen regressing to child in seconds. "she needs me!" My heart feels like it is being pulled out of my chest, this is the Yu I have been looking for. Anyone who is close to a narcissist desires validation & feelings reciprocated. No sooner than I feel tears well up in my eyes, Yu's demeaner changes suddenly. "no" she yells, you cant have it and the child is pulled back into her, tearing the tendrils off my body. I fall to my knees, in physical pain but also emotional. I am attracted to Yu as anyone with low self esteem is, longing for attention, recognition, love. And I find it, if for a second, and I know that I can help her. A part of me also knows this love is futile, leave while you can, but I cant, I wont. "Get up" Yu says, coldly, "try that again and I will eviscerate you". "Ya know", I think for a second, "if that is all I can get from you, I will take it". At this moment I am aware I am not well. Slowly I stand, and turn, all my ghosts are looking at me, as though they can read everything going on, like children, they stare unsure what to do or how to help, a brief moment of humanity fills them. "What are you staring at" I yell, coldly, like my mom to me. This cycle does not end does it.

Part Five: Cut you to ribbons

Tesumo's soldiers move the final few feet to the next door, a void appears beneath them, something whirls and spins as they glide over it. Tesumo leans forward to see what the trap is, inside are dark cog wheels rotating inwards, meant to catch your foot or a piece of clothing and pull you in. Yuu speaks from further back, "What do you see"? "I see bits of ribbon, pieces of torn clothes and something glowing further down. Tesumo steps a bit closer, leaning further down, making sure nothing will catch on the gears, "I see, body parts and... a soul gem?....Oh Shit" she yells and pulls back quickly, stumbling backwards, almost falling into Yuu. It is too late, the spirit from the soul Gem rises out of the void and shoots into Tesumos body. Tesumo curses and stamps her feet, bent over in a rage, "Noooo" she screams. Yu, steps back slightly, not sure how to process what is happening. Her stoicism fades ever so slightly as Yuu makes a motion to reach out. Tesumo Suddenly stands upright, long dark hair falling over her face, breathing deeply, in a rage Yu has never seen before, Body trembling "Fuuuuuck" she yells. Yu decidedly steps back, her moment of concern gone, scared away by the amount of compassion needed for Tesumo....compassion gone after Nagisa left, that was the last of her humanity, but this moment surprised her. Something stirred she had not felt in while. Was Tesumo growing on her?

Tesumo spun around quickly to face yu, wiping the hair from her face "who the hell did I just suck into me"? Yu shrugs, really not sure what to say or do, frozen from lack of emotion or frozen from fear of emotion. Either way, a shrug was all she could summon.

Tesumo, yelled at no one and nothing in particular, just rage at the cosmos. "That trap was for us, the Magical girl who set it off first was a part of a bigger plan. They knew we were coming and waiting for us, they knew what would happen when I stepped near the void". "open that" she points to the end of the Hall, her soldiers hovering patiently, waiting for what lies behind the next door. Yu lifts up slowly in the air and floats the final feet of the hallway, over the void, stepping down on the other side of it. She opens the portal and steps through.

Part Six: I love when a plan comes together

Kyubey watched the two girls enter as he timed his walk to stay in the shadow of a slowly spiraling staircase, one that rose into nothingness. Around him, a pantomime of chaos played out, the walls slowly flashing with different shades of white and blue, images flickering on and off. A large television floats in the room and flanking it, stood Charlotte and Tesummos mother. That darkness is here too, it fills part of the room, and sticks to you, obscures your vision and threatens to pull you into it. Kyubey ignores its pull, intent on watching the girls. Yu, stoic as ever, a fine test subject. But this other one, Tesummo, her demeaner has changed, a rage courses through her, she is the one I want. Kyubey smiles and steps out from the spiraling shadow.

Yu enters the room and stops suddenly, moves her hand behind her in a halt motion for Tesumo.

Tesumo enters w/ her cadre of death. She takes in the room, but not just w/ her eyes, she feels the room, and there it is, before she can witness the chaos painted on the walls, something familiar. Pain, the slap on a face, admonishment, hours locked in her room, a broken doll, a dirty needle caught in her foot, loneliness. Her eyes adjust, fighting away the waves of sensation, and there she is, mom. Tesumo is surprised by the sudden rage that fills her, something she has tried to keep in check for years, the temptation to unleash the soldiers struggles against the part of her heart that grows smaller each day, compassion, love, hope. She musters what little remains inside that red corpsicle and pulls the tendrils tight. She knows the plan.

Yu stands facing Nagisa, beautiful as she remembers. What ever ice has formed in her heart, begins melt as memories surface and w/ that, emotions. Yu stops herself, checks those feelings, she has a plan to follow.

Kyubey steps into the light "Don't worry, its not them you know". His tail rubs up against Nagisa, she begins to twirl. Just cardboard and paint hanging from a string". "They are watching you, teasing you, luring you both". This is their sign post, alerting to the danger that waits. Tesumo, Yusa is going to die. I know what your feelings are for her, you can save her, with just one wish. Yusa turns and glares at Tesummo, then looks at Keybey, "we have a plan and do not need you". Tesumo looks at Yu's back, slightly hurt by that stare. She thinks to herself, "I have a plan".

Kyubey walks closer to Tesumo, stepping in between her feet, brushing up against her calves. "You have great power with in you. Your innate skills are fantastic and rare on this world, but its not enough to stop one witch, let alone two. Yuso has no chance, make your wish Tesummo, you know its the only way to win this battle. With your skills, you will be even more powerful than your mother.

Tesummo rests her hands on her thighs, leans down and stares at Kyubey, get lost you little freak, I wont let you do to me what you did to my mother, you have done enough harm.

Kyubey smiles, "no my dear, it is you who will do the most harm"

Part 7: Don't Let The Shadows Weigh Yu Down

Tesumo and Yu fought their way past the area w/ the warning sign, where she confronted Kyubey earlier. Familiars came at them from every direction as they progressed further into the labyrinth. They took advantage of this brief reprieve to take stock of their situation. Yu gave Tesumo a quick look up and down. Nothing other than ripped clothes, some cuts and a black eye I cant see out of Tesumo thought. Yu's glance had a smidgen of care in it. Was that look for me, or for the plan she has for me. Either way, she wants me around, and that is enough. As Tesumo reflects, she notices her rage has not dissipated. It seems to be eating at her feelings, even the feelings she has for Yu. It is like a darkness has overcome her, obscuring her vision. Maybe it wore the rose tint off the glasses she wore for Yu. Tesumo laughs out loud, slightly startling herself again. Yu, uncharacteristically responds, "I know you are laughing through the pain. We will get that eye looked at soon enough. Are you able to make it?" Tesumo feels weak in the knee suddenly, does she care...about me? That darkness pushed aside briefly as her heart makes one last desperate grasp at hope. "I will be, I will have enough eyes soon enough, and makes that motion w/ her hands when she conjures ghosts from with in her. Yu steps over and looks at her eye. She gently touches Tesumos growing bruise and asks "is it true...what Kyubey said?" Tesumo, lowers her eyes slightly, a little uncomfortable with the eye contact, but welcomes it non the less as she looks back up, she nods, "its true". Yu, steps back, I know the feeling, hope, pain, it's something that will not go away. I dont know what else to say other than, I will hurt and disappoint you. I am not made for love, but here I am, looking for it. I just want it to end, this one last feeling. If I cant save Nagissa, dont try and save me. There wont be anything left inside, I wont let myself feel for another person again. You see hope when you look at me, and when I look into your eyes, I feel its pull, the little girl locked up inside, she especially feels it. She is the one that feels, the one that wants to be free. But all I feel is her pain. She was hurt so young. Teased and bullied, nothing to come home to but a cold calculating abusive mother and the next day, more loneliness in the playground. I killed her, you know, and you threaten to release her w/ your eyes and proximity. I, I wont let you, I wont be hurt again, I am sorry she says, as a single tear runs down her cheek. Yu winds her right hand back...and this plays out in slow motion for Tesumo, she can see it coming, but not able to react. Deep down, she expects it, maybe a part of her feels she deserves it, but that final sting of Yu's slap on her face, was the totality of Tesumos heart, forever broken and all hope lost.

Kuybey smiles from the shadows.

Part Eight: Eviscerated

I cant keep this up Tesumo thinks to herself, her back in a corner as ghosts defend from an onslaught of terror, a twisted puppet worm angles its way from above, trying to bite at her and from the front, her mothers tall shadowy form shooting out waves of spackled darkness with sharpened cog wheels intent on killing Tesumo. Her Ghosts fight admirably, blocking every attack but it wont be enough. She can barely pull the ghosts out of her fast enough, as of now, there is no thought to what she conjures, mostly her army is long dead factory workers. Each one twisted and burnt, she can almost smell their burnt flesh as they emerge from her. Several Ronin hold off the monstrosity that was once Nagisa, using their long naginatas to keep it at bay.

She steals a glance to corner of the room, under the memorial plaque lies Yusa, her body twisted in ways it should not be, but her eyes are open, looking back at Tesumo. Kyubey calls out from the other side of the room, "Do it now Tesumo, make your wish!" "That bastard" she thinks to herself, then says aloud "I'm ready to make my wish." Knowing fully well that her timing and concentration could end this battle faster than she would like, Tesumo waves her arms in the air w/ greater intention this time, as though leading an orchestra. She conjures up something from her childhood, forgotten till now, a drug den and the first 5 ghosts she sucked into her. She gives them their final command, "feed your addiction!" Thin specters emerge, she feels their hunger, as they fly towards Kyubey. He tries to run but their long bony fingers reach him first and dig into his flesh, eviscerating him in the spot. Kyubey appears again further in the room, they take chase, Tesumo smiles.

Part 9: Avus Horologium

She brings her attention back to the battle, as feared, the ghosts are thinning out.

Her attention is drawn for a moment, time seems to stop as she looks at the darkness that permeates this place. Her gaze slips thru the fuzziness and sees the patterns again, they take shape, into.... feelings?

��Then, the deadly cogs in the air turning and fitting into place, creating something, light begins to emerge, then, perceptions of A hug, warmth, love? Images appear, her mothers memories, an older man, is this her mothers grandfather? A story unfolds....Haruto was his name, he repaired old watches, restored them, cleaned up the glass and made them functional again.

Ahh, the warmth and hugs, I see it now, Haruto loved my mom, he was her only family. After the abuse and fire, he took her in and gave love her parents could not. His son, her father, an alcoholic, the mother, a victim of abuse . They died in a fire one winter, only her mother was saved, she was 8. Flesh and emotions scarred from the flames, and taken in by her grandfather, he felt such terrible guilt when he found out the pain she had been through. He was not a great father himself, leaving to Korea at a young age, abandoning his boys and wife. He returned too late to establish any bonds w/ his sons and be a proper father to them. If he could save one person from his mistakes, it will be his grand daughter, Aoi.

But he was older and time had other plans for him. His own watch soon gave out, it stopped ticking one day and she was alone again. Aoi was taken in by family services, but too old for most parents wanting to adopt, and flesh too scarred to be beautiful. As a teen, She found solace in drink, drugs and boys. Not long after, she gave birth to Tesumo. Another child with no father to speak of.

This is when Kyubey found her. Attracted to Tesumo and her gifts, but knowing she was too young to be a magical girl, so taking Aoi instead would be a great catalyst.

"I wonder how this will play out" he thought.

Part Ten: Love Dispels Her Fear

Yu scans her body quickly, its broken in so many ways, and the pain is far too great, unlike anything she has ever felt. This battle is over for her. Yu turns her head and watches Tesumo, she is so brave, drawing attention from her broken body, risking everything.

Yu looks up at this strange form that was Nagisa. She sees now the futility in chasing Nagisa, it was not actually for her, but the idea of her. Not for love, but the idea that someone could be a friend, to me, and accept me. I thought I was chasing love. And Tesumo, my hate for her, its a mask, covering up my insecurity. She is someone, despite all the evil in this world, still finds hope and worse still, finds hope in others, like me. No wonder I despised her, she pulls at the strings of emotion in me, I deftly try to hide that part of me but there it is, or, here she is now...threatening to emerge, a little girl ive kept from the horrors of the world. I've no strength left, my ego torn asunder, a crack forms on my hardened heart and love from w/ in finds its way out. Tears well up in Yu's eyes. At this moment Kyubey darts past, being chased by several emaciated ghosts, they grab at him and tear him apart and then continue their chase, Yu smiles through her tears.

Tesumo's vision ends, she looks at the thinning army in front of her and steps forward, into the spackled darkness she fought so hard against, past the deadly cog wheels, and weaves through her thinning army. Edging closer to her mom.

Aoi amps up her attack, sending waves of thick blackness towards Tesumo, she continued to walk, unabated. Cog wheels flew at her, and through her. Tesumo reached out her arms out, feeling the air for a hug, as though inviting someone in from across the room. She stepped assuredly now, past her ghosts looking into the shadowy face,

"I see you mom".

I still have hope inside, for her, Yu, myself. This place was a trap, the darkness messing with our emotions, bringing out all our pain, fear and insecurities, we played right into your plan. Tesumo reaches out and pulls Aoi's shadowy form into her, hugging her mom and says through tears

"I love you".

This pulls the soul out of the grief seed and into her.

Charlotte still hovers above Tesumo, finally, she found her opening. She was about to snack on the most delicious cheesecake ever, a teen girls head. Charlotte lunges downwards, mouth gaping open, and then, disappears, also the labyrinth and Tesumo is standing in the old burnt factory w/ her arms outstretched, holding nothing.

At this moment, the color in the room changes, a pink hue fills the space. The thick inky blackness fades, the deadly cogs change form, and assemble themselves into clock pieces and fall to the floor.

Part Eleven: Lean Into Me

She turns to look at her surroundings and sees a healed Yusa sitting up in a Pink Angels arms? "Oh, That's where this hue is coming from." She turns to get a better look.

The Angel is speaking to Yusa and Yu is nodding, smiling. The Angel rises, turns to look across the room. Tesumo nervously looks away, then back at her. She is stunning, but its not beauty, its just that she is radiating so much love. I literally do not know what to do with my eyes she thinks, and nervously laughs. Tesumo says out loud, startling herself, "you are coming over...here?" The Angel in Pink beams a smile back and glides over. Tesumo is not sure how to process all this new information, she can barely understand what just happened a minute ago. The angel comes in close and holds her arms out, resting them on Tesumo's shoulders. "I felt you, through the centuries, through different worlds, I felt your love.

Tesumo asks in a shaky voice, "did you defeat, Aoi, I mean, my mom?"

"No Silly, you did!, I stopped Charlotte but you, your love defeated a witch. You have too much hope in others, despite adversity and pain, you still choose to love and see the good in people. Your mother and her parents did not have that resilience. But you do, this place, your mom, tried to hide that from you, and she almost won. but in the end, you won. Ive never seen someone like you before, a non magical girl defeat a witch, w/ love. We magical girls battle ourselves and the witches we become. It's the burden we carry. No one has ever done what you have done. But dont worry, it's all over, the cycle has ended. There will be no more witches. You are liberated Tess! Tesumo smiled, that's a name she has not heard since she was little, he mother, in better times called her that. The angel continued, "now you take that massive heart of yours and find your friends, they need you. People will want the kind of love you have to give, Agape love. You have a friend over there to start with, she needs some healing and I think you are the one to do it." Madoka pulls Tess into her, giving her a long hug. Then she pulls herself back a little, looking into her eyes, dont be shy anymore. There is light in those eyes, fill others w/ it....now go see your friend. At this moment, Madoka's visage slowly fades and the pink hue leaves the room. All that remains is the large factory floor, a neglected plaque and Yusa leaning up against the wall.

Tess runs over to Yusa, kneeling beside her. She looks into her eyes, it's Yusas turn to feel a little awkward, looking away, then back at Tess who promptly hugs her. Yusa struggles against being held but Tess does not let go. Eventually pleading, "please no". Tess strokes her hair rocking her body, whispering in her ear. "Why dont we do this together, you let go and I will." Yu's will weakened, a little girl emerges from her body, a ghost, a memory, her spirit, whatever it is or was, it comes out and takes form over Yu's body, settling back into her. Yu begins to cry, but these tears are different, the first happy ones in years. Tess lets go, repositions so she is sitting next to Yusa. She begins to hum a nursery rhyme, stroking Yusas hair.

Yusa turns to look at her, "I saw your battle, not only with your mother but with yourself. You were very brave, far braver than I could ever be. This was not a fight against witches, but a battle against ourselves. I think thats the way it was for all Magical girls. But the cycle is broken now?"

Tess smiles, "yes, the cycle is broken, we get a fresh start" and reaches her arm around Yusa again.

Yusa resists slightly, "you are not letting go are you"

"Nope" she answers back "I chose you and you are stuck with me, I am your forever friend".

Yusa groans....but secretly smiles and leans into her friend.

-Puer Aeternus

#madoka magica #charlotte witch #yusa yumeno #madoka kaname #dessert witch #Nagisa Momoe #My Oc Tesumo

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droughtofapathy · 7 months ago

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"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

A Little Night Music in Concert

All else aside, Jonathan Tunick's new orchestrations played by the 53-piece Orchestra of St. Luke’s were enchanting to listen to. There is a sublimeness to such a full symphony of instruments that we'll sadly never get on a Broadway stage again, owing to the sheer expense. But the tempo dragged, and the liberal cuts to the book muddied the story. And of course, rehearsal time is so limited for these special events. For what they had, it was a nice night.

And now it's time for me to be a bitch.

The casting for this concert was baffling from day one. The first mistake was casting an opera Diva and not an actress capable of musical theatre. Sondheim is meant for actresses who can sing, and vocal quality is far lower on the list than acting. While Susan Graham sounded lovely, her lush operettic voice is less suited to lyrics that require specific diction rather than soaring high notes. And she is just not up to acting this role. She is also 63, and while you all know I adore old broads, especially with greying hair, she would have made a better Mme. Armfeldt, at least in age, though again...not acting. She's fifteen years too old for Desiree. And Ron Raines as Frederick is about twenty too old for that. At least Raines did an admirable job of committing himself to the role and the acting. It mattered less that his strongest vocal days are past him. But their advanced ages unbalanced the whole narrative. The actress playing Anne was similarly too old, being in her late twenties, at least, though she did a fine job portraying youthful naivety. The girl cast as Fredericka was also a few too many years old, and her similar stature to Henrick made their interactions more charged than they should have been.

Marsha Mason did a better job than I think many expected, though not spectacular. Shuler Hensley as the Count was another odd casting choice, but he managed well enough. Cynthia Erivo as Petra on this final night did not live up to the hype. Perhaps because she fucked up the lyrics at the matinee and made the whole orchestra stop and start over, she seemed to be overcompensating tonight by relying too heavily on her script. She spent most of the song with her eyes trained on the pages, and did little to make it really pop. "The Miller's Son" is one of Sondheim's best, and I have seen it done many, many times. There's about 70/30 odds on whether it'll go well or not. This had to have been one of the least exciting renditions. It sounded beautiful, sure, but there was no euphoria for me. No delight at an actress nailing those tongue-twister lyrics. No joy and pride. Nothing memorable at all, not even a mistake.

What does fill me with some degree of pride is the fact that the strongest showings came from the two Asians in the cast. In a thankless role, Jin Ha was able to bring back "Silly People" (though it's clear why that song is cut because narratively it does the story no favors). Off-book, he performed the hell out of it. And Ruthie Ann Miles stole the show as Countess Charlotte. This is the role that you can really run away with, and boy did she ever. This dry rancor is her at her best. I adore her once again. (I had some...quibbles with her in Light in the Piazza, but that's neither here nor there anymore.)

In all, many mistakes and poor judgments from the producers deadened what could have been a night for the ages. Still, it was a night I don't regret. Though I wish I'd paid less.

Verdict: Well...I'm Glad I Saw It

A Note on Ratings

#welcome to the theatre: diary of a broadway baby #musical theatre #sondheim #a little night music #what i wouldn't give to have done a little swap so that follies got multiple performances and this was a one-night-only special #it's better for my bank account that it didn't happen like this because you know i'd have been at that damn follies concert every single sh

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happymeishappylife · 9 months ago

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A Ride on Oumuamua, by Jeremy Lamb

youtube

'Oumuamua is Hawaiian for "first reach out" and it was the name given to the unusual, pancake-shaped object that floated through our Solar System in late 2017. It caught the public's attention partly due to being the first interstellar object ever observed, but it also became famous because of its strange shape and the mysterious acceleration it made after passing by the sun. Many scientists, including the notable Harvard professor Avi Loeb, began serious discussions about its nature. Perhaps it wasn't a rock at all; perhaps it was an object of alien manufacture?

As interested as I was in the swirling debate, what really inspired me for this piece was a little fact I came across one evening: 'Oumuamua had come from an area of sky that contained almost nothing, which meant it had been traveling for billions of years in absolute silence and then — suddenly — it appeared within a stone's throw of our beautiful planet Earth. In less than a month, 'Oumuamua was already gone, hurtling into another vast emptiness perhaps even larger than the one it had come from. To me, that sounded almost as magical as it did tragic.

A Ride on 'Oumuamua is a fantastical journey I composed with the hopes of conveying some of the awe I felt from imagining its long and lonely voyage. I wrote a few lines to better give you an idea of the narrative I had in mind:

In the beginning, the motion of the stars...

...and 'Oumuamua is born; a song is sung...

...'Oumuamua is hurled away; the journey begins...

...bursting stars, spectacular sights...

...icy worlds appear...

...a lonely voyage; calling out...

...but alone, the journey continues...

...entering deep space; no star in sight...

...approaching the Solar System, at last...

...through powerful magnetic storms...

...Earth appears...

...Earth fades into the distance...

...into the glorious unknown...

...infinite vistas; time loses meaning...

The piece was originally for two cellos and a double bass, specifically to play as a trio with my two closest friends in Charlotte, Sarah Markle and Taddes Korris. Sarah is a full-time member of the orchestra, and Taddes plays with us quite regularly, so you've probably seen them both on stage numerous times. Truthfully, I owe my inspiration for this piece as much to them as to 'Oumuamua itself. Friends like those two only come around once in a lifetime.

After some successful trio performances and a lot of encouragement from my girlfriend Jessica Swirat, I expanded the piece from trio to string orchestra, and that's the version you'll hear at this concert. I'm a very slow composer, though — it took me almost two years to finish this piece — so you can imagine how proud I'll be to hear it brought to life by my incredible colleagues in the Charlotte Symphony.

I also had the honor of speaking with Professor Avi Loeb earlier this month, so if you'd like to see someone speak about 'Oumuamua who really understands the science behind it, check out the video on charlottesymphony.org!

#jeremy lamb #charlotte symphony #a ride on 'oumoamua #i got to see the premiere of this tonight and it was amazing

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chorusfm · 11 months ago

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Ben Folds Announces New Tour

Ben Folds has announced some new tour dates. Emmy-nominated, multi-platinum selling music artist Ben Folds announces the return of his popular “Paper Airplane Request Tour,” performing solo shows across the US starting May 30, 2024. What initially began years ago as a request for songs as encores will once again be a central element in Folds’ shows when he engages audiences to make their song requests via paper airplanes. “The last time I did this on tour the response was overwhelming, with literally hundreds of paper airplanes with song requests being launched on cue from fans at the start of the second half of each of my concerts,” said Folds. “It’s the purest, most low-tech form of engagement that creates a special bond with my audiences.” Folds, who released his most recent album “What Matters Most” to critical acclaim, has been in studio in recent months working on his first holiday album targeted for release later this year. He’ll also be featured in a special PBS broadcast this spring that spotlights his ongoing “Declassified: Ben Folds Presents” concert series he curates as Artistic Advisor to the National Symphony Orchestra at the Kennedy Center. MAY 30 – CHARLESTON, SC – CHARLESTON MUSIC HALL 31 – AUGUSTA, GA – BELL AUDITORIUM JUNE 1 – PEACHTREE CITY, GA – THE FRED 2 – PELHAM, TN – THE CAVERNS 4 – CHARLOTTE, NC – BELK THEATER 6 – SAVANNAH, GA – DISTRICT LIVE 7 – VIRGINIA BEACH, VA – SANDLER CENTER FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS 8 – ROCKY MOUNT, VA – HARVESTER PERFORMANCE CENTER 9 – PITTSBURGH, PA – 3 RIVERS ARTS FESTIVAL 11 – RICHMOND, VA – LEWIS GINTER BOTANICAL GARDEN 21 – LOWELL, MA – LOWELL SUMER MUSIC SERIES 22 – GREAT BARRINGTON, MA – THE MAHAIWE PERFORMING ARTS CENTER 23 – HAMMONDSPORT, NY – POINT OF THE BLUFF CONCERT PAVILION 25 – KENT, OH – THE KENT STAGE 27 – TOLEDO, OH – PERISTYLE THEATER 28 – POTESKEY, MI – BAY VIEW JOHN M. HALL AUDITORIUM 29 – KALAMAZOO, MI – KALAMAZOO STATE THEATRE JULY 30 – BOISE, ID – MORRISON CENTER AUGUST 2 – STEAMBOAT SPRINGS, CO – STRINGS MUSIC PAVILION 5 – BOULDER, CO – CHAUTAUQUA AUDITORIUM 6 – BEAVER CREEK, CO – VILAR PERFORMING ARTS CENTER --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/news/ben-folds-announces-new-tour-2/

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william-t-sickofyourshit · 2 years ago

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„Oh you don’t have to worry. Our horses are very gentle and well-trained. And Teddy is a good rider, so you’re in good hands, he will teach you everything.” Charlotte reassured. “James, please make sure we have riding shoes and helmet for Sebastian though. And let the stable boy know to prepare a horse for tomorrow, one that will be good for a beginner. Calm and gentle.” She gave an order right away, so that everything would be ready and Sebastian could ride horses. James nodded, reassuring that he will take care of everything. Sebastian, as a guest, was so pampered.

“How fun, I can’t wait to teach you, Sebastian. We will ride all over the estate, and I will show you around.” William promised, patting Sebastian’s hand happily. He was really looking forward to this. He always loved to spend time here at grandma’s, and now… now he will get to share all that with his beloved! What could be better?

“Excellent. So let’s make the promised tour around the estate tomorrow before lunch, and then in the afternoon you two can go horseback riding. Ah, that will be a very fun day for you.” Charlotte smiled. “And in the evening… well, I do hope to hear a little private concert maybe? Piano and violin duet. I am really excited to hear you two play together. Especially since you, Sebastian, were a member of Symphony Orchestra, so it will be an honour to hear such talented musician play just for me.”

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes.

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times.

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?”

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them.

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

#for i have sinned

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perry-tannenbaum · 5 years ago

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Charlotte Symphony’s Missa Solemnis Thrills With Power and Sublimity

Review: Missa Solemnis By Perry Tannenbaum

Beethoven’s original intent, when he conceived his Missa Solemnis, was to honor one of his foremost patrons, Rudolf, the Archduke of Austria, who was to be installed as an archbishop on March 9, 1820, in what is now the Czech Republic. Unfortunately, Beethoven missed his self-imposed deadline, so we are not on the brink of celebrating the bicentennial…

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#Beethoven #Calin Ovidiu Lupanu #Charlotte Symphony Orchestra #Christina Pier #Christopher Warren-Green #Jordan Bisch #Siena Licht Miller #Yeghishe Manucharyan

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mariacallous · 2 years ago

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At the National Opera of Ukraine in Kyiv recently, I watched a performance of an opera by the Ukrainian composer Mykola Lysenko. The work, charming and comic and an escape from the grimness of Russian missile attacks, is called Natalka Poltavka, based on a play by Ivan Kotliarevsky, who pioneered Ukrainian-language literature in the late-18th and early-19th centuries. Operas by Verdi, Puccini and Mozart, and ballets such as Giselle and La Sylphide, are on the playbill, despite the almost daily air raid sirens. But there is no Eugene Onegin in sight, nor a Queen of Spades, and not a whisper of those Tchaikovsky staples of ballet, Sleeping Beauty or Swan Lake. Russian literature and music, Russian culture of all kinds, is off the menu in wartime Ukraine. It is almost a shock to return to the UK and hear Russian music blithely played on Radio 3.

This absence, some would say erasure, can be hard to comprehend outside Ukraine. When a symphony orchestra in Cardiff removed the 1812 Overture from a programme this spring, there was bafflement verging on an outcry: excising Tchaikovsky was allowing Vladimir Putin and his chums the satisfaction of “owning” Russian culture – it was censorship, it was playing into Russia’s hands. Tchaikovsky himself was not only long dead, but had been an outsider and an internationalist – so the various arguments went. It took some careful explanation to convey that a piece of music glorifying Russian military achievements, and involving actual cannons, might be somewhere beyond poor taste when Russia was at that moment shelling Ukrainian cities – particularly when the families of orchestra members were directly affected.

In fact, such moments have been rare in western Europe. Chekhov and Lermontov continue to be read and Mussorgsky to be performed. Russian culture has not been “cancelled” as Putin claims, and Russian-born musicians and dancers with international careers continue to perform in the west – assuming they have offered a minimum of public deprecation of the killing and destruction being visited on Ukraine. Only the most naive would decry the removal of Valery Gergiev from international concert programmes. The conductor, who is seen as close to Putin, backed the Russian annexation of Crimea in 2014 (unrecognised by most UN countries), has declined to condemn the current full-scale invasion of Ukraine, and has a history of using his artistic profile in the service of the Russian state, such as conducting concerts in Russian-backed South Ossetia in 2008 in the wake of the Russo-Georgian war.

Inside Ukraine, though, things look very different. For many, the current war with Russia is being seen as a “war of decolonisation”, as Ukrainian poet Lyuba Yakimchuk has put it – a moment in which Ukraine has the chance to free itself, at last, from being an object of Russian imperialism. This decolonisation involves a “total rejection of Russian content and Russian culture”, as the writer Oleksandr Mykhed told the Lviv BookForum recently. These are not words that are comfortable to hear – not if, like me, you spent your late teens immersed in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina and Chekhov stories; not if you have recently rekindled your love of Russian short fiction via George Saunders’ luminous book, A Swim in the Pond in the Rain; not if you adore Stravinsky and would certainly be taking a disc of The Rite of Spring to your desert island.

The context for this rejection has to be understood, though: Ukrainians are emerging from a history in which the Russian empire, and then the Soviet Union, actively and often violently suppressed Ukrainian art. This has worked in a number of different ways. It has included the absorption of numerous Ukrainian artists and writers into the Russian centre (such as Nikolai Gogol, or Mykola Hohol in Ukrainian), and the misclassifying of hundreds of artists as Russian when they could arguably be better described as Ukrainian (such as the painter Kazimir Malevich, who was Kyiv-born but Russian, according to the Tate). It has meant that writing in Ukrainian has at times been proscribed – Ukraine’s national poet, Taras Shevchenko, was banned from writing at all for a decade by Tsar Nicholas I. This silencing has encompassed the extermination of Ukrainian artists, like the killing, under Stalin, of hundreds of writers in 1937, known as “the executed renaissance”. Behind all of this stands horrific events such as the Holodomor, the starvation of about 4.5 million Ukrainians in 1932-33 in their forced effort to produce grain on Stalin’s orders.

This history places Ukraine in a very different position in relation to Russian culture than, say, Britain found itself in relation to German and Austrian art during the second world war, when Myra Hess programmed Mozart, Bach and Beethoven in her National Gallery concerts during the Blitz. “We have had cultural occupation, language occupation, art occupation and occupation with weapons. There’s not much difference between them,” the composer Igor Zavgorodniy tells me. In the Soviet period, Ukrainian culture was allowed to be harmlessly folksy – and Ukrainians, caricatured as drunken yokels dressed in Cossack trousers, were often the butt of belittling jokes. But Ukraine was not expected or allowed to carry a high culture of its own. At the same time, Russian artistic achievement was lauded as the very apex of human greatness. “We were raised in a certain piety towards the Russian literature,” explains the playwright Natalya Vorozhbit, who was educated in the Soviet period. “There wasn’t such piety towards any other literature.”

Putin himself has effectively doubled down on all this through his constant insistence, in his essays and often rambling speeches, that Ukraine has no separate existence from Russia – no identity, no culture at all, except as an adjunct of its neighbour. Indeed, his claim of Russia’s cultural inseparability from Ukraine is one of his key justifications for invasion. At the same time the Russian instrumentalisation of its artistic history is breathtakingly blatant. In occupied Kherson, billboards proclaiming it as a “city with Russian history”, show an image of Pushkin, who visited the city in 1820. Ukrainian artists also object to how, in a more general way, the projection of Russia as a great nation of artistic brilliance operates as a tool of soft power, a kind of ambient hum of positivity that, they would argue, softens the true brutality of today’s invasion. In Ukraine, there is a generalised cry of “bullshit” in relation to the myth of the “Russian soul”.

Some Ukrainians I speak to hope that one day, beyond the end of the war, there will be a way of consuming Russian literature and music – but first the work of decolonisation must be done, including the rereading and rethinking of classic authors, unravelling how they reflected and, at times, projected the values of the Russian empire. In the meantime, “My child will be perfectly all right growing up without Pushkin or Dostoevsky,” says Vorozhbit. “I don’t feel sorry.”

For many Ukrainians I encounter, the time for Russian literature will come again – when it can be critically understood as simply another branch of world culture, and as neither an unduly oppressive, nor overwhelming, force. At the National Opera House, I ask the choreographer Viktor Lytvynov when he thinks Tchaikovsky – a composer he loves – will be back on the programme. “When Russian stops being an aggressor,” he says. “When Russia stops being an evil empire.”

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endofherwildsideau · 2 years ago

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♬彡🎼~𝙼𝚒𝚛𝚊~🎼彡♬

Reference Sheet: | Her Soul:

Her Voice by Brandy & her singing

Deadname: Mirabel Dancer

Name: Princess Mira the Heron Alpha

Name Meaning: Admirable; peace; female ruler; ocean. Abundance. Bitter. A mythical princess. Worthy of admiration; wonderful; marvelous. Merry, filled with mirth. Light. Wonder. Behold. Extraordinary; to be admired; beautiful.

Nicknames: Mimi, Mia, or melody.

Birthday: June 21

Age: 177 (Die at the age of 16)

Species: Great Blue Heron Harpy

Race: Mexican-American

Gender: Female ♀

Relationship status: Married

Sexuality: Straight Ally

Anniversary Date: August 5

Role or Jobs: Minor Alpha, Orchestra Teacher, ballet teacher, Goddess of Darkness, and music.

Home World: Earth (Formerly) Miracle Region (Currently)

Home: Nightfall Palace

Facts: Mira was a talented teenager when she was alive, but she had a devastating heart attack while performing. Her parents abused her, and they tried to make her "famous". She never had the chance to be like other normal girls, unlike her sister who ran away from their strict parents and never heard again. She enjoys music such as classical orchestra, music of Medieval, and symphony, but her aversion to and hatred Techno, electro, and remix music a lot. Now, in the region of miracles, she is a famous ballet and music, and singing instructor. She's unable to control the dark because of the loss of control.

Partner:

Prince Zios the God of Light & Sounds (Husband)

Parents:

Unnamed parents

Sibling:

Unnamed sister

Relative:

Charlotte the Ragamuffin Kitten (Niece-In-law)

Abilities:

Avian Physiology

Harpy Physiology

Human Physiology

Pelican Physiology

360-Degree Vision

Aerial Adaptation

Animal Mode

Atmospheric Adaptation

Bioluminescence

Ceiling Walk

Cloud Walking

Declaration Aging

Digitigrade Legs

Enhanced Agility

Enhanced Balance

Enhanced Endurance

Enhanced Flexibility

Enhanced Footwork

Enhanced Lung Capacity

Enhanced Reflexes

Enhanced Senses

Feather Manifestation

Feather Projection

Glowing Eyes - only when the power is active or glows in the dark.

Hair Growth

Hollow Skeleton

Infinite Digestive System

Omnilingualism

Magical Feathers

Magnetic Vision

Pointed Ears

Prehensile Feet

Prehensile Wings

Regeneration Healer Factor

Talon Protrusion

Ultraviolet Perception

Unique Eye Coloration

Unique Hair Coloration

Wing Manifestation

Zoolingualism

Zoological Mastery

Powers:

Ballet Mastery

Contaminant Immunity

Dance Embodiment

Dance Empowerment

Dance Manipulation

Darkness Defense

Darkness Imprisonment

Disease Immunity

Hypnotic Music

Magical Telekinesis

Music Aura

Music Empowerment

Music Generation

Music Manipulation

Musical Animation

Musical Attacks

Musical Empathic Projection

Musical Empathy

Musical Healing

Musical Inducement

Musical Instrument Manipulation

Musical Projection

Musical Regeneration

Musical Visualization

Mystical Dancing

Rhythm Intuition

Singing Mastery

Song Augmentation

Song Magic

Shadow Camouflage

Shadow Pinning

Shadow Stealth

Umbrakinetic Immunity

#artists on tumblr #digital art #end of her wild side au #end of her wild side oc #eohws #sketchbook app #oc info #my art 2023 #my art style #reference sheet #Princess Mira the Heron Alpha #Mira the Goddess of Darkness & Music #straight ally #emilythehybridwolf

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lesser-known-composers · 4 months ago

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youtube

Gösta Nystroem (1890-1966) - Sånger vid havet: No. 2, Nocturne

Artist: Charlotte Hellekant

Conductor: Evgeny Svetlanov

Orchestra: Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra

#Gösta Nystroem #Swedish composer #classical music #Youtube

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jwillgoose · 2 years ago

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This New Noise - programme notes

Dear Listeners,

I thought it might be useful for those of you listening again (or watching again, once it goes live on Friday 2 September) to our BBC Prom, This New Noise, to make the programme notes accessible. These were printed in the programmes on the night so those in the room would’ve got them, but for everyone else perhaps they’ll provide a bit of helpful context. Here we go...

THIS NEW NOISE

It is both a tremendous honour, and tremendously daunting, to have been asked to write a special piece in recognition of the centenary of the BBC; not only to write it, but to perform it with a group of musicians as talented as the BBC Symphony Orchestra under the guidance of conductor Jules Buckley, performed at the Royal Albert Hall. As a group, we’ve often tackled big subjects before, but there’s something uniquely intimidating about trying to reflect, in musical form, all of the BBC’s history and influence on our own country and the wider world. The question of knowing where to start is often the hardest obstacle to overcome.

In the case of This New Noise, that question also became the answer, in its own way. It sounds obvious, but: start at the beginning. How did the BBC start? Why? What did its creators and original managers, directors and creative thinkers think it was, and what was it going to become? How did its many technological and practical innovations change the course of the country’s history? How did it become, in the words of Charlotte Higgins’ book, whose title we have very appreciatively borrowed, ‘the greatest cultural institution our nation has known’?

To my mind, the biggest answer to the first of those questions (and one which may disappoint any Proms-goers hoping for a kind of ‘greatest hits of the BBC’s TV theme tunes’ compendium this evening) is that most wondrous of inventions: the radio. It’s easy to forget now how truly otherworldly these devices must have seemed to ordinary people. For the cost of a radio set and a modest annual sum, a new machine would enter your world; switch it on, and human voices, music, the miracle of sound would suddenly manifest themselves in your home, transported via the ether. That is how our concert tonight starts, an attempt to remind us all of the apparently simple but world-changing magic trick of transmitting and receiving radio waves, and featuring a recreation of the first transmission made in the name of the BBC, then 2LO in London.

From there we launch into the bombast of the title piece, a musical attempt to recreate the chaos, confusion and opportunity of the early days of broadcasting and featuring some of the musings of first director general Lord Reith and, then, former chairman of the Board of Governors of the BBC J. H. Whitley on the purpose and duty of broadcasting as an idea and an ideology.

Reith is a towering figure in the history of the BBC (and therefore this nation), and the third piece (‘An Unusual Man’) seeks to portray the kind of man he was, and the skills which he possessed and brought to bear on the nascent Company (later Corporation). The BBC still has, to this day, an air of ideological, quasi-religious fervour to its mission and purpose, and Reith’s childhood as the son of a Presbyterian minister in Glasgow, coupled with his unique qualities described in the piece, helped shape the BBC more than any other person in its history. He was only there for sixteen years but his influence and thinking have echoed down the corridors of Broadcasting House for decades since.

Reith’s BBC arguably did more to unite the country (and later, the Empire) than any other twentieth century institution. The opening of the transmitter at Daventry in 1927 enabled listeners across the whole nation to listen to the same broadcast simultaneously, for the first time. It also, depending on the atmospheric conditions, drew in listeners from further afield. Seth Lakeman guests on the fourth piece, A Cello Sings in Daventry, featuring the translated poetry of German poet Robert Seitz, who tuned into the first broadcasts from Berlin and found himself moved enough to write these beautiful words.

We are also taken on a guided tour of the venerable ‘temple of the arts and muses’, Broadcasting House, courtesy of the GPO film ‘BBC: The Voice of Britain’. The inner workings of this most innovative and august of buildings, the beating heart of the company even to this day, are revealed via Stuart Legg’s film, as well as a radio documentary from the early 1930s.

The Corporation had significant time and resources with which to attempt to overcome many of the technical and technological hurdles it faced. Expensively imported ribbon microphones were one such hurdle; such was the BBC’s scale, it simply designed, manufactured and subsequently sold its own Type A microphone, as well as countless other innovations. George Bernard Shaw’s amusing observations about the power of the microphone are a nod to the BBC’s influence in this quarter; and, having been forewarned about the dangers of taking a drink and then taking to the airwaves, it felt only right to revisit one of our earliest tracks (Lit Up) and the gloriously, and occasionally profoundly, drunken commentary of Thomas Woodrooffe.

Penultimate piece A Candle Which Will Not Be Put Out seeks to address the unique lines along which the Corporation was instituted, with a heavy emphasis on public service and a disavowal of capitalist influence on the almost sacred rights and duties for which the BBC assumed responsibility. Its mission statement, as reported here by such luminaries as Sir Ian Jacob, Basil Binyon, William Haley and Lord Reith himself, could not be further from James Murdoch’s infamous Edinburgh Television Festival address over 70 years later (‘the only reliable, durable, and perpetual guarantor of independence is profit’, he informed us in 2009).

Attention in the final piece of the evening turns to the events to come. ‘What of the Future? (In Touch with the Infinite)’ are the titles of, respectively, the final chapters in Arthur Burrows’ book ‘The Story of Broadcasting’ and Reith’s ‘Broadcasting over Britain’. It is, in my view, a simple and inarguable fact that if the BBC continues to be whittled away at by governments on either side of the political divide, and even - potentially - expires, there will be many areas which it covers, and functions which it provides, which will simply cease to be. No private organisation, motivated by profit alone, would fund the BBC Proms season; nor Radio 3, nor 4, nor 6Music (without whose patronage our band wouldn’t exist), nor the various BBC orchestras (including the one performing so skilfully tonight), nor any of the multiple commercially unappealing but culturally vital services it provides to us on a daily basis for what - when compared with other, much-lauded delivery systems - amounts to a pittance. It will leave a vacuum, a void; there will be no more ripples in the ether, no more public-minded attempts to improve the education and experience (and cohesion) of this country. No organisation will truly take the BBC’s place; there will simply be an empty stage, and perhaps its influence and importance will only be truly felt if - and it sometimes feels like when - the BBC disappears.

I’d like to dedicate this piece to the memory of my friend Rebecca Teulet, and her family, some of whom I hope will be in attendance this evening. Rebecca worked for the BBC and believed passionately in its mission and purpose, even if, like many, she was occasionally frustrated by the way in which it functioned. I hope our concert is a fitting tribute to her life. She is much missed.

J. Willgoose, Esq.

London, August 2022

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corisanna · 3 years ago

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@catboy-von-seckendorff's Domestic Witches AU

A continuation of this ficlet of Kyosuke and Hitomi finding out about Oktavia

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Oktavia sat on the floor at the tea table and blankly stared at its surface. One of her worst fears had been realized. She had been recognized. She had hoped she had aged enough, that enough time had passed for memories to blur, that if she was glimpsed outside labyrinths people would dismiss a resemblance as just that. And maybe it had. Maybe it would have been fine with someone else. Except the unluckiest coincidence had thrown her directly in the faces of two people most likely to nail her true identity. Two people who cut deep into her heart.

She only vaguely heard Kyoko tell Yuma and Charlotte that they needed to behave for the meeting. She didn't notice Madoka and Homura's presence until Madoka was kneeling beside her and hugging her. Didn't pay attention to however Kyoko explained the situation. Homura asked Oktavia how she wanted to handle things but she had no idea. She just knew that somehow Hitomi and Kyosuke were going to find out their dead friend was a magical fish monster and she had no idea how they would take it.

Her Grief Seed sang despair, anticipating the worst. Horror. Disgust. Her mental orchestra swelled a symphony of heartbreak. Their faces would--

Madoka's hand patted her cheek. "Oktavia. Please. Please come back."

"You're getting caught up in your head," Homura said solemnly.

"How can I not?" Oktavia croaked.

"You need to try," Homura said. "They'll be here soon." She paused. "Would you like for me and Mami to do the talking?"

"That... would probably be best," Oktavia said slowly.

"What? Not me?" Kyoko asked archly.

Homura looked at her sourly. "I doubt you'll do anything but be aggressive."

"You hate him, too," Kyoko said with a scowl.

"I'm capable of diplomacy," Homura said coolly.

Kyoko gave her a long look before smirking. "Heh. You're right." She turned to Oktavia and bluntly said, "If he makes you cry again, I'm breaking his arms."

Madoka looked worried. "What did he do?"

Oktavia swallowed hard. "He just said something Sayaka Miki would have loved to hear."

The little part of her that would always be frozen in time as a girl in love making a wish keened, Why couldn't he have told me that back then?

The front door opened. Oktavia froze. Something moved on her lap; she looked down and found Charlotte in doll form wriggling into her arms. Oktavia held her little sister witch close against her belly for comfort.

Mami led Hitomi and Kyosuke into the room. They stopped and gasped.

"Madoka? Homura?" Hitomi said in shock. She looked from them to Oktavia and back. "You knew?!"

"I'm very sorry, Hitomi," Madoka said seriously. "I wanted to tell you. But the way Sayaka died... The way Oktavia struggled to cope at first... Magic in general...."

"But Sayaka didn't die. She's right here," Kyosuke said in confusion.

"Sayaka Miki is dead," Oktavia said, quiet but firm. "She was reborn as Oktavia von Seckendorff."

"Reborn?" Hitomi wondered.

"It's a bit complicated," Mami said smoothly. "Please, sit. We have a lot to talk about."

Oktavia was torn over whether she wanted to see their reactions, but ended up watching the pair's faces like a hawk as Mami and Homura took turns explaining the magical girl system. She got a baseline for what their horror would look like when the technicalities and end phase of Soul Gems was explained. Then the personal part approached. Her gut twisted and she squeezed Charlotte tighter. The doll let out a little squeak. Too tight. But she couldn't loosen her grip.

"Sayaka Miki contracted and became a magical girl two weeks before her disappearance," Homura said. "She turned into a witch the day before her body was found."

Hitomi and Kyosuke looked at Oktavia sadly.

"Sayaka...," Kyosuke said.

"Oktavia," she corrected quietly.

"How... If you turned into a witch, how are you here?"

Madoka helped explain how they fought and talked her down, brought her back to reason. Hitomi and Kyosuke looked at her hopefully. Looked for Sayaka Miki.

"You need to understand," Oktavia said slowly. "I have a base of 'Sayaka Miki', but I am other now. I'm not really human anymore. I can take on a human shape, yes. But I'm not human. I am still a witch. Physically and mentally." She let go of Charlotte with one hand and waved at her body. "This isn't my true form. It's something like a costume." She returned her hand to holding Charlotte. She forced a deep breath and braced herself. "That half suit of armor, half mermaid monster in the labyrinth today is what I really look like now."

They both stared. Kyosuke hesitantly said, "But even if you can turn into that, you're still--"

"You're not getting it," Oktavia growled. Frustration welled up in her and she did something impulsive. She dropped Charlotte and shifted into her compact witch body, towering over the table and nearly hitting the ceiling as her tail extended behind her and knocked over a shelf. Hitomi and Kyosuke startled and nearly fell over backwards.

Oktavia fiercely said, "This is my true body now. This is me. I can wear Sayaka Miki's face and I have her memories. I am an echo of her-- maybe even a strong echo. Maybe you could say I have her heart. But I'm not what you remember and I'm not going to try to be. If you can't accept that, get out."

Hitomi and Kyosuke gaped at her. Oktavia saw a flash of fear in them, which made her heart twist. But they both slowly pulled themselves together. They looked at each other then back at her with determination.

"Sayaka--" Hitomi started.

"Oktavia von Seckendorff!" Oktavia shouted.

Hitomi flinched. "Ok-- Oktavia. Even if you're different-- even if-- however you are," she stammered. "You're still--" She teared up. "I still-- I want to be your friend. You meant so much to me as Sayaka and-- and I'd like to have something like that again. Even-- even if it's like starting over." She looked down at her lap, where she had fisted her hands in her skirt. Then she looked up and painfully smiled. "Hel-- hello, Okta-- Oktavia. Von Seck... Secken... Um... Seckendorff. Oktavia von Seckendorff. Hello. My name is Hitomi Shizuki." She bowed politely and rose, looking at Oktavia with tears rolling down her cheeks. "It's-- it's a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can be friends?"

Oktavia was glad that her armor helm was incapable of crying. She was still and silent for a long time as everyone waited to see how she would respond. Emotions rolled in her heart like waves at sea. She held back a sob of relief. Crying or not, Oktavia's voice still cracked when she strained to say, "I... I would like that."

Hitomi's smile brightened. Then she turned to Kyosuke expectantly.

Kyosuke stared at Oktavia with a lot of emotions flashing through his determination. She couldn't read all of them, though she did see grief and hesitancy. Her heart constricted and cringed. She told herself that what he had been to Sayaka Miki was a distant memory, but it was partially a lie. Her Grief Seed had been a Soul Gem born of her old self's care for him and the despair that made her fall had been closely tied to him. Her Nature to fall in love had been stoked by pining for him. Though Oktavia had moved on, that connection couldn't be broken. He had the power to trigger despair in her heart.

So Oktavia stared at him tensely and hoped he wouldn't cut her down. In her peripheral vision, she saw Kyoko scowling and shifting restlessly. She hoped Kyoko wouldn't make this worse.

"I. Um. I admit I'm having some trouble fully understanding you being Sayaka-but-not-Sayaka," Kyosuke said carefully. "But I want to learn. If you have her heart... it seems like there might at least be some kind of tie to... I don't know. But if we could build something new from that... like it seems you did with Madoka... I'd like to do that. Oktavia."

Oktavia's heart ached, but in a good way. Kyosuke had been a close friend to her old self long before he became a love interest. Having something like that again would feel good. But....

"As long as you do try to be friends with Oktavia, not Sayaka, I'd also like that," she said quietly. "As long as you can accept my being a witch, yes. Let's try."

"You'd better accept all her witchy parts," Kyoko snapped. "Since she's only a witch because--"

<SHUT UP!> Oktavia roared in telepathy.

Kyoko turned the glare she had been directing on Kyosuke and Hitomi on her. <They deserve to squirm for what they did to you!>

<They did nothing wrong!> Oktavia shouted.

<They did,> Homura said resentfully. <Sayaka was a wreck because of them. It led to her falli-->

<They meant no harm! Had no idea what Sayaka was going through!> Oktavia said. <It's childish to blame them so shut your mouths and grow up!>

<But--> Kyoko started.

Dark witch rage rose in Oktavia. She clenched her fists so hard that metal creaked on metal. <I DON'T BLAME THEM! I DON'T WANT THEM TO BLAME THEMSELVES WHEN I DON'T BLAME THEM! HAVE ENOUGH RESPECT FOR ME TO RESPECT THAT AND DON'T TELL THEM! DO YOU NOT CARE ABOUT MY FEELINGS?>

Oktavia shifted back to human form so she could glare at them properly, let them see the fury on her face. Kyoko and Homura averted their eyes. Madoka looked around them in concern. Yuma and Charlotte peered at them all warily from the edges of the table. Kyosuke and Hitomi looked very confused by their silent argument.

<Oktavia is right,> Mami declared firmly. <Laying blame at their feet is her right only. Back off.>

<Listen. I want to try to be friends with them again,> Oktavia said. <They were important to Sayaka and having bonds like that again would be nice. Having more friends in general would be nice. I don't want them trying to be friends with me out of guilt! I'll never know if the friendship is real! So keep your mouths shut! Don't ruin something good for me!>

Kyoko crossed her arms and scowled at the table. Homura pursed her lips and flipped her hair as she turned to stare out the windows. Surrender.

"What's... what's going on?" Hitomi asked hesitantly.

Oktavia twitched in restless anger and bit out, "Kyoko was going to say something extremely personal so I was yelling at her in telepathy."

God, she was going to have to go in her labyrinth and vent all these feelings when this was done. She wanted to scream her emotions, her rage and fear and painful hope and old despair. She swallowed them down, swallowed them down. Compressed them the best she could. A fragile connection had been made and she could not allow herself to scare off her potential friends with a messy outburst of intense witch emotions.

Oktavia forced her fists to unclench. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a minute of centering quiet, she opened her eyes and asked, "Where were we?"

After a moment of uneasy silence, Kyosuke said, "I want to try to be your friend. As Oktavia. As a witch. I know I-- I might screw up while I'm figuring it out. But I want to try."

Oktavia nodded slowly. "That's good enough for me. For now."

Everyone was silent again for a minute. It was awkward. No one knew what to do.

Finally, Mami went into leader mode and straightened up. She clapped once to get attention. When they all looked at her, she briskly said, "Now. Where do we go from here?"

They all looked around at each other, hoping someone had a suggestion.

"Just come over to play sometimes," Yuma said like it was obvious. Which maybe it was.

"Yeah," Charlotte said. Hitomi and Kyosuke startled at the talking doll, then jumped when it turned into a human. Charlotte used her human face to look around at them like they were idiots. "Don't make this harder than it has to be. Just come and play video games or have tea and cheese or something."

"Cheese?" Hitomi wondered.

"Playing and sharing snacks is how you make friends," Yuma declared with childish conviction.

Oktavia wanted to hug the younger girls.

Mami nodded thoughtfully. "It really could be as simple as that."

Madoka smiled. "It might be! It's worth trying!" She pressed her fingers together and looked at Kyosuke and Hitomi. "Mami's tea parties are the best! I'm sure you'll at least love her cakes! You and Oktavia can talk about how good they are and go from there!" She looked at Oktavia. "What do you think?"

Oktavia's lips turned up at the corners a bit. "I think that sounds... nice." Her hands fidgeted under the table as she turned to Hitomi and Kyosuke. She hated that she felt and sounded shy when she asked, "Would you... like to visit me? Like that?"

They both smiled and agreed.

Relief and hope flooded Oktavia. Enough to momentarily override her anxiety. Maybe this could... Maybe this could work out.

#Domestic Witches AU #my writing #Kyoko and Homura: Sayaka contracted for this guy therefor everything bad that happened to her is his fault #Oktavia: But he didn't do anything #Kyoko and Homura: he existed

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