#THAT HE STYLES INTO A FROHAWK
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Locs are becoming the new fucked up flatop/fade
#ENOUGH LOCS#GIVE DUKE A FRO#THAT HE STYLES INTO A FROHAWK#I had my frohawk for one (1) day and I miss it#shit made my head hurt like a bitch tho I’m tenderheaded#DUKE IS STRONGER THAN ME THO#LET HIM HAVE A FULL OUT 80S FRO#to match Damian styling his hair in an 80s blowout purr#U DONT GET ME#MOBODY KDOES#💔#no actually one (1) other person is keeping long haired Damian alive#the way I forget it’s not a popular enough hc to be able to boycott art without it </3
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Here go!
I appreciate it, chief!
Ice's Petty Gripes with Apollo's Design
Okay so I'm not gone argue, if you disagree, just scroll on or block me. It's not that deep overall.
While his skin isn't as greenish as it usually is with desaturation issues, it still looks flat to me. I've seen that the art style has been updated though, so hopefully this is not an issue by the game release. Giving them a chance 👍🏾
His hair 😭😭 omfg I'm sorry. I just... It reminds me of back when we used to have games that would let you change the skin color of your model (gasp! So inclusive!) but the hairstyles were still limited to white people textures that sat awkwardly. We're past that. It's 2024. This could have been twists, freeform locs, a frohawk, or- my personal favorite, as he's symbolic of the sun at some point- an AFRO! Even a teeny weeny afro with some cute curl definition would have favored his facial structure!
If he'd been literal grey like his brother Ares, or white like his sister Artemis, I wouldn't have cared. But I think my general issue is the lack of commitment to defining Black features in art, and I think this one was just the straw that broke the camel's back for me lmao (I was already mad about Patroclus, but I overlooked it, kinda thought they'd learn from that).
We are not white; you have to consider that when you're designing us. We aren't painted the exact same way. We don't look like white people; lmao an entire sociological construct was invented to drive that point home in every aspect of our lives, but somehow we forget as soon as it's time to put paint to paper? And Supergiant is not some lone fanartist or crowd funded team. These are creators that have made excellent games and have excellent designs for the majority of their characters!
Now this is not me saying that they're bad people. They're not. I adore Hades! I just... I personally feel I have the right to expect better from games atp. This design is mid, from people capable of producing heat. I shouldn't have to settle for "well, at least they're Black" in 2024. And so I'm not 🤷🏾♀️ If you're gonna do a Black/Brown character, wholly commit to the design! I feel this way about EVERY medium that drops Black characters, in more ways than one (I have an entire blog about it lmaooo).
So yeah, it's not *that* deep on its own, I'm just not bout to call something hype when it's not. But I'm also not gone stop anybody else from playing or anything lmao.
#i made this far nicer and was far more gracious#see im capable of it!#but these were the things i couldnt move on#so if i ever draw this man expect better hair texture#and luscious browns
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AAH! HUMANS!
my rottmnt human designs (and redesigns)✨✨ (feat. My shitty fucking camera that cannot correctly capture colors for the fucking life of it!)
Leo✨✨
Donnie✨✨
Mikey✨✨
No Raph :[
Ill get to him eventually- (maybe)
Additional ramblings below 👇👇👇
Leo:
I only changed a few things about Leo, because I generally liked the design, there were just a few things that irked me.
The outfit- I liked my previous outfit for Leo, but it didn't feel like something he'd wear everyday. Casually, maybe. I took inspiration from the episode Air Turtle and instead went with a basketball jersey (bc he plays basketball in my human au) the skinny jeans stay, bc he's a whore.
The hair- I originally did blonde tips on his hair, but decided I liked the brunette better. The blonde also are his face look really busy when paired up with the vitilago for his eye markings. I did however color his front two little strand thingies red to mimic his eye markings.
Donnie:
Donnie changed quite a bit from his original design, ill add the og design for reference.
Okay so-
The outfit- I kinnnnda hated his og outfit. The neon green shirt is a massive eyesore, the khaki shorts. Just no. I kept of the Atomic Lass shirt, but made it purple instead, to better match Donnie's color palate, and went from tan shorts to black cargo pants. I feel like Donnie needed more pockets to carry stuff in, and it looks better, from a fashion standpoint. I also gave him demonias bc duh.
The hair- I swapped him from locs to an afro for a few reasons. One, the reason I dont draw eyebrows is bc I draw eyes so comically large that they just don't fit on the face, and I wanted Don to have his trademarked brows, so I picked a hairstyle that covers his eyes, and allows space for dem brows so he can still emote. Also with a less detailed style I was able to add his goggles without it looking too busy.
Mikey:
Ive kind had a vision for Mike since the beginning. I wanted him to wear something versatile he can move around in easily, but also something colorful and fun to match his personality.
The outfit- I wanted something artsy and fun, but also light. So I picked a cropped hoodie (ik its a vest with an undershirt in the pic; I changed it after taking it) and a pair of shorts and a cool belt. I feel like Mikey is definitely a fun socks guy, so I gave him some striped socks with the turtles' colors on them.
The hair- so in case it doesn't show in my art, Mikey's hair is supposed to be a frohawk type deal- kinda like this
I picked this bc I just thought it looked cool when I was experimenting with drawing different hairstyles.
Raph:
Ive been putting off drawing Raph, bc I dunno why, but no matter what I do, he also comes out looking....... Questionable.
Extra Note- I changed my human au comic to a fic because: one, I don't have the time or energy to draw a comic. Two, I like to get detailed with my writing and you can't do that with a comic.
Thanks for listening to me ramble ^ ^
Please reblog my art <33
#leodraws#leoslastbraincell#please for the love of aphrodite please reblog#art#my art#digital art#drawings#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#save rottmnt#unpause rottmnt#rise leo#rise donnie#rise mikey#art ramblings#tmnt ramblings
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"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 15
Masterlist HERE.
youtube
"My compass does just fine on its own
So much pride, it built a second home
I, I can't hide behind me no more
I went solo and flew high (high)
No one said it would be easy or crowded
How do you stay grounded alone?
(I) I wanna be surrounded by
My design in full
Not for sale"
Rae Khalil – "Is It Worth It?"
Working in the Grand Hall of Parliament was not N'Jadaka's favorite part of the week. Luckily, he only did it twice a week. N'Jadaka always reserved mornings for the Council of Elders, with the occasional time block for citizen petitions presented to him on Tuesdays. His afternoons focused on office meetings with department heads or state visits throughout Wakanda. The rest of his calendar year juggled international travel dates to various countries for public events and private talks.
He glanced over to his right where Yani perched, all reserved and queenly. The isicholo on her head carried such a presence next to him. It had been over six years since a queen had been a part of proceedings and the room buzzed with a charge of energy that hadn't been there since he had become king. Even the giant ten-foot high iron and vibranium masks that represented each tribe looking down upon them from the walls conveyed more ancestral weight with her attendance.
The interior of the Grand Hall had an egg shape, with Yani and himself positioned at the narrow end next to the Head of Parliament known as the Mkhulu Inkokeli. A woman named Sesam of the Mining Tribe held the position for a term of five years. She took a liking to Yani's overall demeanor right away and began proceedings quickly so they could finish at a reasonable time for the queen's first day. He glanced at his wife again.
They fit.
As king and queen.
His intimidating aura and Yani's calm and collected appeal balanced the country's royal leadership. She listened with rapt attention to raised voices and assertive arguments from nobles and commoners who represented their districts with passion and acerbic wit. Wakandans were gifted orators, and each tribe had their own distinct and bombastic style of handing out public lashings to their opponents. Several times, Yani burst out laughing at a sharp retort, and her melodic voice brought out the competitiveness in the group to outshine one another to impress the queen. That afternoon presented three bills that needed approval to move forward by himself and Yani. She read the proposed bills on a comm tab in front of her and highlighted the line items she needed clarification on. Whenever he or she needed to speak to each other, or ask Sesam a question, they tapped a button on the voting console embedded in the desk to silence their mics. Yani pressed another button and everyone stopped speaking to hear her voice amplified for a general question to a politician. She mixed the Wakandan she knew with English and was relieved to know that every person in that assembly spoke and understood English. They found her attempts at the national language impressive. Umama taught her how to pause with her words and not utter "um" or other place holder words when she felt flustered searching for how to say something in Wakandan. It helped her sound more confident with the language.
Yani directed her current inquiry to a husky man with a robust personality from the Jabari Tribe.
"Inkokeli Tayo, are your concerns about expanding local tourism in your region because of ecological worries or cultural ones?" Yani asked.
Tayo turned in Yani's direction. He wore a flamboyant style of furs and fringe, and sported a 'frohawk adorned with small mollusk shells. The Jabari Tribe secured representation in parliament within the last four years and became the most ardent debaters on every bill brought before the Grand Hall meetings. Having been closed off from the rest of Wakandan society for centuries, they were still learning how to work with a collective governing body. M'Baku sat near Tayo. He'd missed the Council of Elders meeting to tend to military maneuvers in the field on N'Jadaka's behalf. The king acknowledged him with a tilt of his head.
"Queen Yani, we have preserved our lands since we severed our union with Wakanda long ago. We should be exempt from any plans to expand the reach of strangers into our lands who may not respect our values and way of life. Wakandans prefer technology over everything else and we are not equipped to handle an influx of ardent technophiles who may influence our young people in ways that go against Jabari traditions," Tayo said.
Remy pressed a button on his desk console. Sesam acknowledged him.
"The chair recognizes Inkokeli Ramatla Ntu."
Yani sucked her teeth low, but N'Jadaka clocked the agitation in the sound. Remy stood, nodded to Tayo, and looked at Yani.
"Kumkanikazi, local tourism engages our citizens in cultural exchanges that are beneficial to everyone involved. It is because the Jabarilands have been cut off from us that we seek reunification through tourism. If the Jabari Tribe are to be a part of this assembly making important decisions that affect all of Wakanda, they cannot stay aloof. With all due respect, Inkokeli Tayo, the Jabari can no longer look down at us from the sky. You must join us as a united kingdom."
Several assembly members stood up and applauded, invigorated by Remy's words cajoling the Jabari to concede. A few of the male Jabari tribal members backing Tayo's speech hooted and barked. Some people fussed back and forth with other tribes giving their opinions on Remy's call for action. Others whispered and looked toward N'Jadaka, trying to read his expression and the queen's.
Yani shifted in her seat. Her willful brown eyes peered at Remy with thoughtful consideration and then she focused her attention on Tayo using measured language.
"Inkokeli Tayo, I understand your concerns. Back where I am from, I worked for an ecotourism company that showcased our protected mangroves and sea life. Our culture relied on tourism for our livelihood. Most of our people were taught from a young age to view the tourism industry as our primary means of survival. I sometimes grew tired of people coming to our island and having everything catered to their whims because we depended on them to live. Our home became entertainment and a playground for strangers all over the world. Here in Wakanda, we are in a unique position to control the number of people permitted entry and we also don't need tourism for our survival under capitalism. I'm sure we can find a compromise that satisfies everyone here. Would you feel more comfortable if we waited on tourism in the Jabarilands until your people came up with a plan that worked better for you?"
The sweet sound of Yani's voice enchanted everyone listening. N'Jadaka kept his expression neutral, although he was beaming inside because of her eloquence, understanding, and gentle nudge of non-Jabari to ease their pressure on the mountain tribe. Tayo glanced at M'Baku. The great chief of the Jabari nodded his head.
"Yes…yes Queen Yani. We would prefer not to be included with any proposals for expanding tourism in our mountains."
Yani looked at Mkhulu Inkokeli Sesam.
"Can we table that proposed bill for now? I'm willing to help the Jabari present something different in the future when they are ready. Limited tourism stressing the importance of preserving delicate cultural ecosystems is something I have expertise in," Yani said.
Mkhulu Inkokeli Sesam seemed surprised at the offer and glanced at N'Jadaka before speaking.
"I suppose we can put that off. King N'Jadaka, do you have any objections?"
"I have none."
Sesam continued.
"How much time would you need, kumkanikazi?"
Yani tapped her kimoyo and interfaced it with her comm tab. Her personal calendar floated flat on the desk in a bright neon orange glow and she overlaid the upcoming parliament schedule on top of it, searching for an open date. She was booked and busy for months, from what he could tell.
"September 28th," Yani said. "I'll meet with Council Elder Chief M'Baku at his convenience and discuss the matter further with him and his administration."
"Very well. All in favor?" Sesam asked the entire body.
"Ewe!" the entire body replied.
N'Jadaka leaned over to her ear and whispered, "You just saved us from listening to Tayo run a long ass speech about the virtues of the Jabariland traditions since 28,000 B.C.!"
Yani tapped her calendar until she locked in her schedule. He rubbed his hand against hers and she patted his arm.
"I planned on visiting M'Baku's wife Ayomide during their Founder's Day Celebration Brunch. That would be the best time to speak to them while they're in a festive mood. The Jabarilands are beautiful and the rest of Wakanda would learn to respect and appreciate their ways if they visited in person. I loved my tour of it and there are ways to make it less stressful for their people," she said.
"And if they disagree?"
"I'll charm them," she said.
"Look at you acting all big and bad," he teased.
They watched the assembly vote on two bills before release. Several nobles rushed N'Jadaka, wanting to invite them to mid-day snacks and tea inside the dining wing on the ninth floor. Yani had never visited it before and looked enthralled by its elegant look. All government staff ate there throughout the day, and the ornate furniture and fixtures showcased the vast wealth of Wakanda.
The food and ambiance were not much different from an exclusive, top-notch restaurant. One section highlighted the best view of the sprawling skyline and the beauty of the Jabari Mountains. The sky bridge looked breathtaking connecting them to the East palace. From that angle, shielded behind smoked-glass that transitioned from light to dark on its own to offset glares from the sun, N'Jadaka admired the meticulous construction of the double citadel structure. The palace had been designed as a mighty fortress with the addition of spiky, reinforced torons that blended decorative elements to the overall architecture. At that time of day, the sunlight struck the exterior and gave off warm metallic hues of sun-baked bronze, and burnished copper with slight undertones of orange and pink. He pointed it out to Yani, and she appreciated the splendor of African creativity.
Below them were smaller, older towers with gold turrets that flanked the moat surrounding the double palace. Across from the moat were round, thatched-roof buildings that contrasted the more sophisticated structures of their civic center signaling the start of Birnin Zana's Old Town that was popular with the locals for shopping and tasty street food. The winding river valley they nestled within informed the circular city layout that housed structures along the contours of the natural environment.
N'Jadaka normally had reserved seating set aside for him with the best window view, but he often dined with officials at different tables throughout the week. The mid-day meal menu featured aromatic Bashenga Mountain coffee, tea, fruit drinks, small sandwiches, and other light dishes. Yani chose to dine with Sesam, M'Baku, Tayo, and a few other Jabari representatives at a center table that made him feel like they were gold fish being watched in the middle of a fishbowl. All eyes studied their interactions. Everyone stood when they entered and wouldn't sit down until they did.
"Good to see you again," M'Baku said, shaking N'Jadaka's hand.
Yani gave the big man a hug, and a smile broke out on his face. N'Jadaka presented his wife to Tayo formally.
"Tayo, this is my wife, Queen Yani," N'Jadaka said, reining in Yani's overly enthusiastic greetings.
She took the hint and concentrated on greeting Tayo properly, which meant no physical contact outside of handshakes, and only if she initiated. Tayo shook Yani's outstretched hand.
"Thank you for your support today," Tayo said.
N'Jadaka pulled out Yani's chair and pushed in her seat once she was comfortable. He sat next to her and the others sat down after he did. They ate a few finger sandwiches and pastries, sharing stories about their honeymoon and catching up on political gossip. Two servers carried burning coffee beans and incense in large ceramic bowls. They walked around the busy dining wing to entice more consumption with a new fresh brew's scent wafting all around them. Four more servers wandered through each section, pushing carts of desserts and hot tea steeping in pots. N'Jadaka helped himself to some bria tea and a blackberry Danish.
"Has your first day been exhausting for you yet?" M'Baku asked.
Yani looked up at the high vaulted gold ceiling and laughed. M'Baku joined her, understanding the clipped pace they all worked.
"There's a lot to take in," she said.
Sesam pointed out important players to Yani throughout the room. There were nearly ninety people in the dining wing, and Yani recognized quite a few from various public events and their wedding.
"I will have to end this little soirée," N'Jadaka said. "I have work waiting in my office."
He stood, bid farewell to people, and chaperoned Yani out of the wing. They separated in the middle of a wide hall behind a huge art installation of a giant panther about to pounce over stairs that led down to more offices. He watched her leave his side flanked by her Doras, off to handle her new office staff with plans for the Queen's Ball and her various other commitments for the people. He wanted to kiss her, but he had to follow decorum, too.
The trek back to his office was at an easy pace. He was in no rush to dig into the bullshit that probably waited for him behind the door he now stood in front of on his private floor.
Stepping inside, he nodded at all the smiling faces and headed toward the back. Tlotliso and Mpilo waited for him in front of Tlotliso's desk.
"Welcome back, kumkani," Tlotliso said, handing him a stack of mail. Mpilo grinned from ear to ear, gripping a pile of folders with papers that needed the king's signature.
"Good to be back, Tlotliso. Hold all my calls for the next hour. Mpilo, follow me," he said.
"King N'Jadaka, you are looking refreshed. How was Queen Yani's first day?"
"She did great work today. Made quite a splash on the assembly this afternoon."
"I am not surprised. Princess Shuri left a message that she will be twenty minutes late for your meeting today."
"Why? And why such a precise time? We're not touching bases until after five."
"She did not relay that information to me."
N'Jadaka swept into his inner office and it smelled of frankincense and older Wakandan spices that tickled his nose with their spicy scent.
"Hello Grandmother," he said to Queen Shuriya's painting on the wall.
He shook his arms and stretched before taking his seat behind an organized desk that already had sparkling water and more snacks ready for him for the rest of the day. Mpilo placed the folders he carried inside an inbox holder and waited for further instructions. N'Jadaka took an ornate silver letter opener and went through his mail. Invitations to speak at universities in America and Canada. A wedding invitation from a noble. Court dismissals from three lawsuits aimed to stop Wakanda from helping Black Americans at three community outreach centers. A thank-you card from a First Nations tribe in Canada for funding lawyers to pursue cases against their government. A judgment from the Wakandan Supreme court that settled a case on N'Jadaka's behalf for the murder of his father by King T'Chaka. The court would seal the document from the public. He closed his eyes. There was monetary compensation that would never be enough to replace his father or mother. But he had in legal writing that his family had been wronged and the Udaku clan took responsibility for it. He would put the billion dollar compensation in a trust for his children, including the one not born yet.
Mpilo poured him water and patiently waited for his signature on all twenty documents prepared for him. He punched in his electronic signature on Mpilo's comm tab, too.
"I'll leave you to your daily reports, sir," Mpilo said, gathering the folders again.
"Thanks."
Mpilo left and shut his office door. N'Jadaka spun around in his chair and took a break to look over his kingdom.
Queen Yani sauntered inside her new office with her back straight and head held so high that she felt twenty feet tall. An unspoken pride settled over her. She let the Grand Hall know she wasn't an ornamental display for the king. She had opinions and insight that would move the country forward, and asserting her voice early instead of later left a mark on the politicians who still considered her an outsider.
Yani's secretary/office manager, Wunmi, filled her in on her immediate schedule for the week and Yani wrangled the staff together inside her palatial office for a meeting while her brain still buzzed from the Grand Hall assembly. Her media manager, research assistant, PR officer, personal assistant, event planner, and secretary gathered seats in a semi-circle facing Yani's desk. Her staff's own assistants stood behind their chairs holding comm tabs, bringing the total number of people under her team to nine.
"I'm going to help the Jabari Tribe come up with a feasible plan to have ecotourism in their territory by spring of next year. I halted a bill that would force this on them, so now we are responsible for two things: one, convincing a very insular culture that opening up to the rest of the nation is a good thing. Two, prepare the nation in a positive way to respect the Jabari way of life. I want a campaign created that highlights the beauty and ecological importance of preserving mountain ecosystems from climate change. If we go at that angle, then I think people are willing to support a cap on the number of people that can visit there to help protect that area. Consider using commercials and bringing educators from the Jabarilands to present media segments on popular talk shows to build more rapport. Use our connections to the hottest entertainment sites in the industry."
Her staff took notes and listened.
"Next, I want my Queen's Ball to have a nighttime in nature theme," Yani looked at her event planner, "Put Jabari cuisine on the dinner and dessert menu. I want the decorations to resemble the ancient forests of Ekuqaleni up against the Jabari side of the mountains. Maybe call the theme 'A Night With the Ancestors' or something like that. I want people to walk into that gigantic ballroom and feel like they stepped back in time at the creation of Wakanda."
Yani's words lit a fire in the eyes of her staff that nodded, smiled, and gave little squeals of excitement.
"I have some other ideas, but let's start with that. We have two months to pull this theme together. The first save the date cards already went out at the beginning of the year, so I want mock-ups made of the final invitations with the theme all over it. I want those invitations to become collector's items. Beyond fancy…art pieces, hear mi now? I want to see this by next Thursday."
Everyone nodded.
"Next item. The Queen's Tea at the Zana Arboretum always has a highlighted garden flower in the decorations, so this year the flower will be the Eleyi Ti Ayaba," Yani said.
Wunmi raised her hand.
"Yes?" Yani said.
"It is lovely that you want the Purple Queen flower of the Jabarilands, for your Queen's Tea theme, but will we have enough available for the elaborate decorations? The mountain variety is so rare, and the big draw of the tea is the floral arrangements."
"This is where conservation comes in. I had the royal gardeners set up a greenhouse to grow some here four months ago, and they are working closely with the arboretum."
"So you pre-planned this before, well in advance? Brilliant!" Wunmi said.
"Yes. My daughter Joba is helping me. She is using some for her fairy garden, too. Lady Ayomide gave us seeds as a gift last New Year's. We've grown our own valley ones and we'll mix them together. The Jabari took Purple Queen flowers with them to the mountains when they left Wakanda. Speciation took place with those seeds up there creating a new variety, but its origin roots are here in the river valley. I want to make the bold statement that we're all connected. They don't want to lose their way of life, so I'll show them we appreciate who they are and won't force them to change just because we want to embrace our shared future."
Yani's personal assistant, Melele, twisted up her lips.
"Do we really think the Jabari will appreciate the queen's efforts? They are such an arrogant people," Melele grumbled.
"And we aren't arrogant, too?" Yani retorted.
Her staff laughed, and Melele grinned. Yani gauged the atmosphere of the room. Her people were ready to work.
"There are young people up in those snow-capped mountains who are ready to embrace the future of what the Jabari can become joined with us. Their elders are slowly witnessing the respect my husband gives them and how he values their views on life. Wakanda has slowly opened up to the world and we haven't fallen away from our values. The Jabari will see that. The five tribes are separate fingers on one hand, but pulled together, they become a fist. I want to give the king that fist."
She clapped her hands.
"Okay now, let's get to work. Melele, fix me a tray of libations and snacks. I need to go through my mail and a few things before my Ladies in Waiting arrive."
"Yes, ma'am."
Melele closed the office door after the staff filed out. Yani sighed and lifted her isicholo from her head and set it upon the crown stand behind her seat. Gold letter opener in hand, she went through her mail and made piles of events she would attend and those she would not. There wasn't enough time in the rest of the year to attend every party, ball, civic event, art opening, or wedding…
Yani held a peach-colored envelope made of expensive parchment closer to her face.
A special invitation.
She sliced it open and read the contents.
"Rra Mxolisi Ntu and Lady Thembeka Ntu cordially invite the King and Queen of Wakanda to the marriage of their son Ramatla Kagiso Ntu to Lady Ime Leatla Molefhe…"
Remy would marry in two weeks. Lady Thembeka must've fast-tracked the wedding to lock down Ime for her son. She wondered how much money Remy's family paid for Ime's ikhaze. N'Jadaka's family paid Aunt Leona five million American dollars for her ikhaze in place of her parents for Yani's hand in marriage. One million was for Yani, and two million for each child she birthed for the king. She had been touched that they included Sydette in the bride price.
A knock at the door brought her out of intrusive, bitter thoughts. She had been so foolish to get involved with Remy outside of the work relationship she once shared with him. Her impulsiveness and jealousy pushed her towards someone she should have kept at a distance and forgotten.
"Yes?"
"Ma'am, Lady Zola and Lady Ilana are here," Melele said.
"Send them in."
Yani stood and her girls clamored in carrying a bottle of champagne and gourmet chocolates in a fancy basket.
"What is all this?" Yani asked, accepting the gifts.
They shared hugs and cheek kisses before Yani waved for them to sit in the plush, dark leather chairs in front of her desk.
"Celebrating your first day as the Queen of the Nation!" Zola shouted.
Ilana broke out champagne flutes that were inside the basket of chocolates. She used a wine bottle opener to pop the cork, and the bubbly spilled out onto the floor.
"I'm still at work," Yani protested.
"We don't care…here, sip and eat this chocolate," Zola said, shoving the basket Yani's way.
They chatted and snacked, clinked drinking glasses while Yani shared her travels, and the way N'Jadaka pampered her. Her friends listened with glossy eyes and smiles for her adventure. Ilana leaned forward to lift another chocolate from the basket and her eyes zeroed in on the wedding invitation.
"Oh…I see the Ntu clan sent you your invitation. We received ours too. Are you going?"
Yani tapped her finger on the raised blue embossed lettering of the Ntu name.
"Should I? There are so many other parties and celebrations to go to this month."
"You must go. I mean, if you decline, it would make the Ntu clan look bad, especially when they are footing the bill and hosting the entire wedding. They would see it as a slight on their honor," Ilana said.
"If Yani goes, then Ime will feel upstaged at her own celebration. Honestly, she's damned if she decides either way," Zola quipped.
"How so?" Yani asked.
Zola licked chocolate from her fingers and sat back in her seat.
"Everyone is still talking about what happened in that restroom at the banquet last month. The chattering class of elites is well aware that Ime has made you her sworn enemy. However, she cannot do anything to harm you because of your status. But if you show up on her special day, she will think you are flaunting your power."
"Flaunting my power? How? She's marrying the man of her dreams. I'm not there to break them up or cause a scene. I was nice enough to let her come to my nuptials."
"She will not see it that way no matter how you frame it, Yani," Zola said. "You are a blight on her existence. We all saw the way Remy made cow eyes at you during the banquet fuss. She will never forgive you for seeing it firsthand. You will always remind her that she was Remy's second choice"
Ilana played with her large gold hoop earring and stared at Yani.
"Hmmm…on the other hand, if you skip the nuptials, the Ntu clan will interpret it as the king not liking them. That won't bode well for politics. The Ntu's are powerful, petty and vindictive. That could brew trouble later in the future if you and the king have ambitions that need the support of top nobles," Ilana added.
"Thanks for helping me decide. It's better to step on Ime's neck at her wedding than create tension with an influential family."
Yani took out a fountain pen with royal purple ink on it and filled out the RSVP to attend with the king. She used her own purple wax seal to close the flap of the return envelope. Tossing the RSVP into her outgoing mail bin, she clasped her fingers and rested them on her desk.
"All done."
"Good," Zola said. "It would be a terrible event without you there to suffer with us."
"Alright, our dear sweet queen, we must get going. We're having dinner with the women of the Zana Social Club, since you can't hang out tonight," Ilana said.
"I know, I'm sorry, but my schedule this week is too tight to have fun. Let's look into next week. I'll need your input for the ball anyway."
Ilana and Zola both shook their hands with excitement.
"To think there hasn't been a Queen's Ball in five years!" Ilana said.
"Stylists, tailors and jewelers are booked solid for this celebration," Zola added.
"I'm going to have a theme this year," Yani said.
"A theme?" Ilana said with wide eyes.
"I wanted to plan something different for my inaugural ball. Add some fun and excitement."
"You are the first foreign-born queen. No one wants to miss the spectacle. It's historic. Having a theme will make you so unique. Every ball we've had has been nothing but who can out-class everyone and sucking up to the king and queen," Zola said.
"You two will have to be sworn to secrecy because I've added you to my planning committee. Clear your afternoons for next Thursday and the rest of the month."
"Can you tell us the theme now?" Zola begged.
"Nope. I want your honest reaction next Thursday."
Yani hugged her Ladies and forced them to take the last of the champagne and chocolates with them. Secluded in her office, she dug into reports and had a vid chat with her co-workers at the hospital she was on leave from. She pulled up files on her computer, searched for documents, and worked quietly for two uninterrupted hours.
"Ma'am?" Melele said. She knocked on Yani's open door.
"Yes?"
"You have an unscheduled visitor."
Yani glanced at her desk calendar.
"Who…?"
Sydette bounced in with a dimpled grin.
"Hi Mama…I mean Queen Mama."
"Get over here Miss Busy Body!"
Melele closed the door, and Yani hugged her daughter.
"Why are you here by yourself?"
"My Dora is outside waiting for me. I was on my way to the family library, and I decided to see you instead. How was your day?"
Sydette sat on the chair Zola previously occupied. Yani sat next to her in front of her desk.
"My day has been busy."
"Do you feel like a queen?"
"I kinda do, Sweet Pea."
"Good."
"Where are the twins? They're usually up under you."
"They're with our cousins playing in the game room. Kora is with them. Umama allowed me to go off by myself."
Sydette's eyes flicked away.
"What's wrong?"
"Does cousin Cee Cee have to go? I don't want Morgan and Croix to leave. Not before we have the big pool party this weekend. Why did Baba kick them out of Wakanda?"
"How did you know about that?"
"Cousin Cee Cee has been screaming and arguing with Auntie Leona. Twyla even came over today. All the grown-ups on their floor have been fussing. Auntie Anika and Auntie Dawnette tried to keep everything cool, but Cee Cee thinks everybody is against her. She said that you let Baba do that to her."
"I wish she didn't act a fool in front of you kids. That's not right."
"I know no one likes her…she's mean and talks about people…but she can be a lot of fun sometimes. She thinks no one loves her and sides with you because you give everyone money."
"Baba takes care of everyone financially because we're family. Not because we want people on our side."
"Why is she so mad at you?"
Yani exhaled and rubbed the side of her temple.
"Cee Cee likes to feel like she's in control of everyone around her. She was disrespectful to me when I first met your Baba. He worked a job that she didn't think was safe for me to be around—"
"Auntie Anika said she was jealous that you had Baba."
"That is part of it, too. Cee Cee has a bad habit of ruining relationships with people. Even her own. The fathers of her children left her and its hard being a single parent raising kids alone."
"But you did it and were always nice to people. That's no excuse."
"I agree. However, your Baba…he sometimes brings out the worst in people because they either envy him or dislike his way of thinking. He saved my life…saved your life. Spoiled us with his love. He was a literal Prince Charming, and I think Cee Cee wished it had been her that he saved."
"But he did save her. Our whole family. She can do anything she wants and never have to work if she doesn't want to. Morgan and Croix go to the best school in St. Thomas. Baba promised they could go to university here in Wakanda."
"Sweet Pea, some people are never happy no matter how much they have in life."
Sydette picked at the leather on her armrest.
"Can you ask Baba to change his mind? Maybe you could talk to her about changing herself and appreciating what you both give her and my cousins."
"I don't think Cee Cee will ever change."
"She said Baba won't let her be a princess. If you make her one, it might make her feel better about herself. I can give her my title if that will help."
"It doesn't work like that, baby. The king is your father and your title is your birthright now. It's a sweet gesture, but you can't give it out to anyone else."
"Can Morgan and Croix stay? At least for the rest of the week? We want them at our party."
Yani's heart hurt. She wanted Cee Cee gone from them, but her child still had love in her heart for such a problematic and hateful person.
"Sweet Pea…Cee Cee has hurt me for a long time. She tried to keep you and me away from Baba every chance she got. She even told my parents that Baba was an evil person."
Sydette's eyes grew as large as plums.
"She did that? But it's not true."
"It doesn't matter to her, as long as he was gone from our lives. Sometimes you have to cut off blood to save the rest of the family."
"I understand. I can't believe we have someone like that in our family."
"Baba wants her gone tonight. But I will talk to him about changing the date until after your party."
"I feel sorry for my cousins having a mother like that."
Sydette climbed off the chair and hugged Yani.
"I'm glad that I have you for my Mama," Sydette said, squeezing Yani's shoulders.
Sydette pulled back from Yani.
"Can you come with me to talk to Baba? Ask him about Morgan and Croix now?"
The pleading quality in her voice tugged at Yani's heartstrings.
"Okay. I will," Yani said.
She stood and reached for her isicholo, placing it on her head again. Checking her desk for unfinished tasks, she turned off her computer and filed away papers for the next day. Clasping Sydette's hand, she guided her daughter out from her inner office. She let Melele know she was leaving to see about a family matter. Yani's security team and Sydette's lone Dora followed them to an escalator. They rode up to another floor and entered a secured elevator to N'Jadaka's floor.
The king's dynamic staff hustled about and paused when Yani entered with Sydette.
"Queen Yani," Tlotliso said. She stepped from behind her desk to personally greet them.
"Is he busy right now? Princess Sydette would like to speak to her father."
Tlotliso tapped the intercom on her desk.
"King N'Jadaka, Queen Yani is here to see you with Princess Sydette."
Tlotliso beckoned for Yani to go right in. Mpilo walked past them with a comm tab.
"Queen Yani…Princess Sydette."
He dashed to his own desk, checking his daily planner.
"No worries, Mpilo. You didn't miss an appointment," Yani reassured.
Relieved, Mpilo escorted them to N'Jadaka's closed door and left them. Sydette turned the knob, and they stepped in quietly in case he was on a call.
"Hey, you two. What's going on? Were we supposed to do something I forgot about?"
N'Jadaka watched them from his desk. He had a neon yellow floating grid hovering to the left of his desk with images of several documents.
Yani waved her hand for Sydette to sit down, and she did the same.
"We're here to talk about a decision you made this morning," Yani said.
An eyebrow raised on his face.
"What would that be?"
Yani looked at Sydette, then turned her eyes back on her husband.
"Cee Cee leaving tonight. Today, Sydette witnessed the family fighting about it and came to my office to ask that Cee Cee be allowed to stay until the end of the week so that Croix and Morgan can go to the pool party."
N'Jadaka rubbed his forehead and stared at his daughter.
"I'm sure your mother explained how we feel about Cee Cee's behavior toward us?" he said.
"Yes, Baba. I don't want my younger cousins to be excluded from all the fun this weekend. Can they please stay until Sunday?"
"I already have the Royal Scorpion Fighter ready to take them after dinner. Cee Cee doesn't belong here with us."
His voice sounded firm. Sydette's lip trembled.
"I don't want my cousins to be punished because of her. Can they stay with us…with Auntie Leona until she goes back to the Virgin Islands?"
N'Jadaka glanced at Yani. It was hard saying no to their children. Sydette wiped at her eyes.
"They're good kids, Baba. They can't help who their mother is."
"Cee Cee won't let her children stay here without her, Sweet Pea. I think it's great that you're speaking up for them…I like them a lot…"
His voice trailed off as he locked eyes with Yani. She shrugged, not entirely against them staying for the rest of the week. They both didn't want to be the bad guy. N'Jadaka folded his hands on his desk.
"I'll call Aunt Leona and tell her that Cee Cee and the boys can stay through Sunday. Your mother and I will talk about keeping Croix and Morgan with Leona until she returns to the compound. Okay?"
"Thank you!"
Sydette jumped out of her seat and rushed to her father. She hugged him tight, and he kissed her forehead.
"Can I go tell the boys?" Sydette asked.
"Go on," he said.
"Bye Mama!" Sydette shouted, running out of the office.
N'Jadaka tapped his kimoyo beads. Leona's upper body floated above his wrist.
"N'Jadaka," Leona said in a weary voice.
Yani moved next to her husband.
"Hi Auntie. We heard about today from Sydette," Yani said.
"It has been a mess of a day."
"Auntie," N'Jadaka said, "I'm going to let Cee Cee and the boys stay through Sunday. We want the boys to enjoy the pool party with their cousins. I apologize for the strain we put on you."
Leona nodded and Twyla came into the frame next to her aunt.
"I say keep the boys and send her home," Twyla said.
"It will make things worse," Leona said with an exasperated sting to her tone.
"If the boys stay, she'll think she can wiggle herself in for an extended visit afterward as if the king's order was moot," Twyla said.
"I don't understand that gyal's mind," Leona said, brushing a gray curl from her forehead. "N'Jadaka gives her everything for nothing in return, and she still wants people to kiss her backside."
"That's the problem. Big Man gives her things she doesn't deserve. I say cut her off. Kick her out of the compound," Twyla said.
"What about her boys? We can't treat them poorly."
"I'll take them from her. Keep them with me and Bibi and raise them here in Wakanda. N'Jadaka, can you grant me guardianship of Morgan and Croix?" Twyla said.
"You can't steal her pickney from her," Leona said.
"Then you do it Auntie. Everyone in the family won't go against you. We trust your judgment and if you say Cee Cee's unfit to care for her children because of her nasty spirit, they'll put pressure on her."
"I won't separate a mother from her children if she's not abusive."
Twyla sucked her teeth and stared at Yani.
"After the pool party, I'll go back home with Cee Cee," Leona said.
"Auntie, there's no reason for you to leave early," N'Jadaka insisted.
"It's the only way to keep peace in the Galiber family. I'll go back and give her an ultimatum. She has to improve her behavior…or I'll kick her out of the compound. She'll have to work and find employment on her own while taking care of her boys. I won't babysit them for her anymore. Once she's reminded that N'Jadaka provides our comfortable life, she'll shape up for good. I'll charge her rent for living in the middle house on the compound. It'll be her wake up."
"She'll never change," Twyla said.
"Where is she now?" Yani asked.
"With Uncle Fritz and Aunt Myrah. They went shopping to keep her out of the palace for a few hours before her departure," Twyla said.
"So that's the plan," N'Jadaka said. "They will stay until Sunday and she's cut off financially from the royal stipend. I'll give her monthly allowance to you Leona to provide for Croix and Morgan instead."
"I just want to forget this day and start over tomorrow," Leona lamented.
"I'll come see you tonight, Auntie, and make up for it," Yani said.
"No, you must be with your husband after your first day."
"Who will tell that cow foot she's here until Sunday?" Twyla asked.
N'Jadaka ended the call.
"I made things worse, huh?" N'Jadaka asked.
Yani linked her arm around the hard muscle of his arm and rested her head against his shoulder.
"You did what needed to be done. Coming from you directly takes heat off of my back. No one can blame me if my husband sets his foot down. Back then you were the boogeyman, but now…you're a king and the most powerful man in the world. Everyone will take our side and push Cee Cee to do right."
"I think we can head out now. I'm done for the day. Tomorrow will be easier. Council of Elders meeting in the morning and then we can go straight to our offices."
He placed a warm hand over hers clutching his arm.
"Are you sure you can take on working with the Jabari Tribe on top of all the other responsibilities you have? I can assign someone else that task at the assembly."
"I want to do it. I have some things in the works that will solve everything."
"Everything?"
"Trust me."
The hard pounding of a knock on the door caught them off guard.
N'Jadaka answered it. Tlotliso wore a grim expression.
"Kumkani… you must see this," Tlotliso said.
They followed her out to join N'Jadaka's media team inside a conference room. Several vid screens flashed different global news channels on the walls. Tlotliso pointed their attention to a center screen that showed a reporter standing outside of the Wakandan Supreme Court. She crossed her arms and looked at both royals.
"The Supreme Court finally reached a verdict on the Ozipho/Phuri case. All defendants will receive life imprisonment. Sita's testimony sealed their fate. It took four years but we finally have justice," Tlotliso said.
His Press Secretary, Xhanti, typed on her comm tab, then stared at the king.
"The press is expecting a statement at the top of the hour, sir," Xhanti said.
Xhanti continued scrolling her comm tab, and tossed back the thick auburn twists of her hair.
"I'll go shower and change in my office. I'll meet you in the lobby within twenty minutes," N'Jadaka said.
Xhanti nodded and the rest of his media team observed other channels and reactions to the news. Yani walked with N'Jadaka back to his office. She lounged on his office couch while he refreshed and groomed his beard. He returned wearing a long white tunic and sat on his executive chair. Yani braided his damp hair back and tucked it into a bun at the nape. He stood and she looked him over carefully, making sure nothing was out of place.
"Should I change too?" Yani asked.
"No, you look perfect. You'll stand next to me as I address the press."
"When will you kill Agent Ross? He's the cause of all this turmoil and death the Phuri brought."
"Next year, after I'm done using him for intel. His ex wife has the C.I.A. up our ass and Ramonda will get close to her soon enough. I'll kill him and the Americans will never know what happened."
"Won't the Americans suspect you?"
Yani brushed a tiny piece of hair from his right shoulder.
"They will suspect HYDRA."
He titled her chin and kissed her lips.
"Welcome to the underbelly of running a country, baby."
She reached up and held his face.
"I support you all the way."
He ran his hands down her shoulders and lowered his gaze to their hands clasped together.
"I have something to talk to you about later."
"We have a few minutes, tell me now."
"Another important case closed today. One that was filed while I was in cryostasis on my behalf. The Udaku clan…T'Chaka… was found liable for the murder of my father. I was awarded monetary compensation that I will put into a trust for our children. Its one billion dollars. I'm going to file paperwork with our family lawyer tomorrow to name you as the Trustee if anything ever happens to me. Grandpop and Leona will be next in line to control it if anything happens to you. I'll put Shuri and Twyla on the documents too. I want to talk about the age we want them to have access to it in the future."
Yani parted her lips and flicked her eyes to the wall behind him.
One billion dollars.
She hadn't been knocked out by an amount like that since he had left her the compound and money to care for her and their children when he thought he would never see them again.
"N'Jadaka…that's so much."
"No amount can bring my father back, but the family wants to make sure the money makes a statement to me. The court has sealed the details to outsiders. Sita made the lawsuit happen on my father's behalf. She's also responsible for putting the Phuri terrorists away."
"We should reward her."
He shook his head.
"She's not the type to take money when it comes to justice. But I will make sure she and her daughter live well for the rest of their lives."
Yani hugged him tight.
"You always give so much to people and never take anything for yourself."
"I have plenty already."
Yani held onto his hand as they met Xhanti and the rest of the media team in the lobby.
"Here's some bullet points about the case. I pulled up the information about civilian compensation. It's best if you put off questions about civil cases against the Phuri," Xhanti said.
They crowded into an elevator and rode down to the Press Room. A make-up artist powdered the shine on N'Jadaka's face for the camera lights and touched up Yani's make-up. Xhanti sent over the key details to be loaded onto a teleprompter and the royal couple waited in front of a podium for the camera light to flash red for the live broadcast.
Reporters and photographers crowded in front of the podium with a crushing wave of expectant energy. Yani's stomach tumbled and N'Jadaka touched her hand hidden behind the podium. Member's of the king's cabinet created a semi-circle behind him and Yani's nerves eased once the Council of Elders joined them to their left side.
Xhanti stood next to the teleprompter and the king checked the bullet points for clarity. A minute later, the main camera light turned red.
N'Jadaka faced the nation.
"My fellow Wakandans, after four long years, justice has finally prevailed today…"
Tag List:
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#King Killmonger#King Killmonger The Golden Jaguar#Killmonger Fanfiction#black panther fanfiction#Wakanda Forever Fanfiction#Uzumaki Rebellion#Uzumaki Rebellion Writes
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[id: a digital painting of zana and jonnit kessler from skyjacks, imitating les enfants à l'agneau by william-adolphe bouguereau. they are both young black children with kinky black hair. zana’s is braided with golden jewelry back into an afro and jonnit’s is styled as a frohawk. zana is sitting with one leg tucked back and a white lamb on her lap, one arm wrapped around its front with the other hand resting on jonnit’s back. jonnit is kneeling beside her on the ground, his hands on his chest as he leans forward as if to press a kiss to the lamb’s face. he is wrapped in black fleece. the background is foliage and trees without many details. end id.]
kessler siblings my beloveds <3
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[ID: a digital drawing of jonnit kessler from campaign skyjacks. he is posed and styled to look like naruto, with his stance wide and arms crossed. he is a dark skinned boy with a frohawk, a red bandana tied around his head, a blue tank top, olive pants , and dark boots.
end ID]
i feel like tyler describes jonnit as if he were a naruto character, so I have drawn him as such 👀
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It's all in the hair
Hairstyles that get the Slashers hearts thumpin'
Note: the +1 is from a video game series called Manhunt. I wonder how many of y'all will recognize him..
He's gotten pretty used to seeing different hairstyles on you at least every other day
You usually just cycle through the 3 or 4 hairstyles you are used to doing
So when he saw this one, he loved it almost immediately
Instant heart eyes on this bitch
Thinks it's hard as fuck, you're so damn cool
He really likes how alternative it looks, but also something completely new that he wouldn't see often
The hairstyle accentuates your face as well, which he thinks is nice
He stares at you even more than before, which is saying something
If you do an intricate style with the braids on the side, he will trace them from time to time
When you change your hairstyle he secretly gets upset >:{
Gives you a note saying 'change the hair back' and draws a little frohawk on the side
Oh this just makes his undead heart flutter💚
It's so adorable!
He thinks it's a very playful look
Loves it when you add some colorful bows and barrettes to it
Will sometimes choose the accessories for you
You do this hairstyle the most, which is great for Jason
Pretends to fluff the hair out if he is in a teasing mood
The more fluffed out the better!
If he was in a bad mood before, the sight of you in this hairstyle makes him feel better
Twist look so sophisticated to him
He likes it cause you can also take it a loose and transform it into a curly afro
Please add some accessories to the twist
He will be super impressed if you do a pattern
He also likes that you can do different stylings with your twist as well
Helps twist you hair since it's easy, as long as you do the parting
Will scratch your scalp when helping if you need it
Looks up different twisting styles that he would like you to try
He's a little old school
He remembers watching some 70s movies and always fell in love with the black women who had the huge afro
He asks you if you can do it that way and you try it out
A lot more work than he thought, it takes a lot of time to shape it up
Absolutely loves the look on you
He does also appreciate afros in all forms
Tries to play peekaboo in your hair
He needs to stop playing lol he didn't put in the work on this afro
He will offer his help on doing the hairstyle. He gets pretty good at it
Fixes it if it gets flattened
He's just an overall sweetheart
It doesn't matter how the bun is styled underneath for him
He just likes the high hair look
If it can easily convert to a ponytail then he's sold
That way he can pull on it during sex (if you allow him)
Don't let the bun be fake lol he'll pull it off and just be like,
Did I just tear of y/n's hair???!!!
Starts freaking out and checks you over
You're pissed, but also find his reaction sweet. You just tell him to calm down and that it's fake 😂😂
Loves it when you do the pineapple look
Starts drooling over the curls that sit on top
He wants to play with it not with those dirty ass hands
+1 Daniel Lamb
He was surprised when he first saw the look on you
Did a double take
He really loves how different it is
He likes how often you change your hair, but this is his absolute fav
Can't wrap his head on how you do the style. Even if he watches you do it a couple of times
Impressed by your hair parting skills, like how are you so good at it
Will let you know if anything is slightly crooked
He was a scientist y/n, the attention to minute details never goes away
Super geeked whenever you do the style, simps even harder for you🥴
#slasher x reader#slasher x black reader#michael myers#jason vorhees#stu macher#billy loomis#brahms heelshire#daniel lamb#michael myers x reader#jason x reader#brahms x reader#stu matcher x reader#billy loomis x reader#daniel lamb x reader#manhunt
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Epithet Erased Oc Sheets
(Details are subject to change/more characters will inevitably be added)
Name : Brutus Wonder
Nickname : Tessa
Epithet Status : Mundie
Pronouns : She/Her
Ethnicity : Latina & Native American
Age : 19
Hair Style : Micro Braids
Hair Color : Black into purple
Romantic Partner : Benny
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Name : Millenium Wonder
Nickname : Milly/Mills
Epithet Statues : Inscribed
Epithet Name : Rhythm
Pronouns : She/Her
Ethnicity : Latina & Native American
Age : 19
Hair Style : Frohawk
Hair Color : Purple
Romantic Partner : Ben |Blaster| (P)
-------
Name : Obsidian Wonder
Nickname : Sid
Epithet Statues : Inscribed
Epithet Name : Visions
Pronouns : He/Him
Ethnicity : Latino & Native American
Age : 19
Hair Style : Straight Cut
Hair Color : Purple into black
Romantic Partner : {Pending}
-------
Name : Seraphina Wonder
Nickname : Sara
Epithet Statues : Inscribed
Ethnicity : Curse
Pronouns : She/Her
Ethnicity : Latina
Age : 43
Hair Style : single braid
Hair Color : Black
Romantic Partner : Starr
-------
Name : Starr Wonder
Epithet statues : Mundie
Pronouns : He/Him
Ethnicity : Native American
Age : 48
Hair Style : Curly Quiff
Facial Hair Style : Bandholz
Hair Color : Dark Purple
Romantic Partner : Sara
-------
Name : Beatrice Devine
Nickname : Benny
Epithet statues : Inscribed
Epithet Name : Brawl
Pronouns : She/Her
Ethnicity : White
Age : 19
Hair Style : Braided Space Buns
Hair Color : Brunette
Romantic Partner : Tessa
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People Watching Extras
AESTHETICS BY TINA @shslargue
I gave @shslargue the written description & she came up with these boards for me/my characters in the fanfiction People Watching (which she also did the cover art for). #TinasBiggestFan Thank You, T.
152: Heath is similar to his pic. He doesn't stand out as far as style. He wears their all Black mission uniforms with his mask, but aside from that, any typical 22 year old dude would wear. But he's got a cowboy hat that Jalicia got him for no other reason than, "It just seemed like something he'd like" and he actually loves it even though he doesn't have anything to accessorize it. So, whenever he wears it it's basically him in his completely normal outfit with a cowboy hat on.
227: Jalicia does still have a frohawk, but she shaves little artwork into the sides of the fade (don't expect that to be drawn, just saying because I envision her that way). She has a punk look to her, but she also has a day job on campus of her college, where she usually wears like a lady pantsuit. Don't know what job. I just like the idea of her wearing pantsuits for work then punking out when she punching out.
747: Xander changes his hair color a lot, usually a pale/pastel color or any shade of pink. Pink is his favorite color, and he has several pink clothes/accessories, but he's not like wearing it all day everyday. Though, I HC that they playfully called him "the pink ranger" because of how much stuff he has. He wears jeans with many pockets all the time. No shorts, no slacks, no khakis. Only jeans, though he will switch it up at times and have different colors, they're usually blue or black.
808: Alexandria has several piercings. They’re lining both of her ears and present all over her face. She usually has one long, high ponytail or braid, but will make it a bun for Date Nights. Wears a lot of studded or spiked accessories and She is a tattoo artist and street medic. She studies psychology for fun, but doesn’t plan on going to college any time soon. She has an affinity for setting things on fire and blowing stuff up.
1K: Sunny dresses like a hippy witch. She’s in the dance program at Seattle University and also handles the martial arts and yoga training at the Infinity Foundation. Keeps her hair cut short in the warm seasons (generally shaves it in the spring) and lets it grow when it starts to get colder (generally having her last haircut the last day of the summer), and is very health conscious, vegan, animal rights - because really animals are better than people in every way and plants are better than both.
#People Watching Aesthetics#aesthetics#The Apex#People Watching#shslargue#AU Infinity Train#Infinity Train#Nesha Fanfiction#Infinity Train Fanfiction#fics#long post#Team Tina and Tenesha#Heath Farmer#Jalicia Barrett#Xander Helstrom#Alexandria Jones#Sunny Kincade#PW Apex#PW Moodboard
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Serpentine Fire Exhibit
January 19 - March 30th
410 S Spring St, Los Angeles, CA 90013 Curator: Jillith Moniz / Quotidian
Quotidian presents Serpentine Fire featuring LA’s standard bearers in iconoclasm who push boundaries, developing new techniques, modalities and aesthetics. This community of makers feeds artistic and cultural curiosity, realizes visions and sustains itself through their work. Serpentine Fire, based on the song of the same name by Earth, Wind & Fire, captures a group of artists who have radical art practices, much like the band’s early music. Mel Edwards, Henry Taylor, Ed Love, Kori Newkirk, Umar Rashid, Lyndon Barrois, Glen Wilson and Duane Paul use divergent media to create visually rich language born from life in LA.
Video of Earth, Wind & Fire performing Serpentine Fire shows the band in colorful clothes, singing lyrics with complex rhythms that set them apart from soul bands of their generation. The artists in this exhibition are equally recognizable as they eschew traditional art roles and practices to follow their own motivations, style and aesthetics.
Serpentine Fire highlights historical radical artists Mel Edwards and Ed Love(1936-1999). Edwards studied painting at USC but revolutionized the LA art world with his welded abstract steel works that are allegories for human experience. He had his first solo museum exhibition in 1965. Ed Love was born in Los Angles and began using chrome bumpers as material that could connect people to something larger than themselves. At the time few understood his aesthetic intentions or his emphasis on the stories he wanted to tell about the durability of black life. Edwards and Love stand as models for younger generations of artists inhabiting the rebellious narrative art spaces LA offers those who dare.
Duane Paul’s multiple media practice hones on sublime lines and materiality. His new work provocatively expands the relationship between textile and fine art.
Henry Taylor took on the challenge of painting meaning, color and life in Los Angeles with a dynamic, self-possessed style when many had turned to conceptual art. He boldly situates figures in landscapes, building a visual literacy that conjoins his personal experiences with a historic medium. From his early classes with James Jarvaise to his time at CalArts, and throughout his career in Los Angeles, Taylor demonstrates his maverick sensibilities with compositions that richly layer painterly brushstrokes with a rigorous passionate attention to aesthetic narratives.
Todd Gray’s vast career began in the early 1970s as a photograph capturing bands including Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones. He turned his unique perspectives on popular culture into one of the most prolific and textured art practices in LA. His work in Serpentine Fire comes from his art as protest series plastered guerrilla-style throughout LA during the 1984 Olympics.
Kori Newkirk, winner of the William H Johnson Prize and other notable accolades has developed a chameleon-like practice, trying on ideas then shifting structures and modalities and challenging the viewer to keep up. Like Newkirk, Umar Rashid, also known as Frohawk Two Feathers, melds genres, histories and materials to bring art back to its roots of edifying and resonating cultural meaning.
Lyndon Barrois earned an MFA from CalArts and has become a well-respected animator. Barrois pushes the boundaries of animation with unconventional materials and culturally significant narratives. Glen Wilson also has a foothold in the film business, experiences he translates into beautifully executed and alternatively rendered still imagery.
Serpentine Fire is a gathering of artists who continue to extend LA’s boundaries for art making. Each artist practices in joyfully rebellious margins and this unorthodoxy gives them license to surprise and captivate viewers with strong visual language, using sculpture, painting, animation, photographic and graphic art to locate themselves as well as communicate their mastery of aesthetics.
Curated by jill moniz Photo: Duane Paul 's- Detail /Sculpture "Sexual Awakening Cut Short by A Glance...
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A collection of post-Boxed In scenes for @ignitesthestars and any other interested parties. Warning: mostly kissing.
The thing about Jessa was control. The bullet journals, the two alarm clocks, the precision coffee-measuring apparatus, the fact that she’d been hitting afternoon cheerleading practice even though she wouldn’t be on Westlake’s team in the fall...someone had probably invented the term Type A specifically for her. And I mean, I’d seen her out of control, kind of. Her grabbing my hands and putting them where she wanted, her licking her lips and sighing. I’d seen her dance until her eyes glazed over and get drunk on crappy malt liquor. But after those things--even during--she was still Jessa, still sharp and beautiful and knowing, planning her future with one eye and laughing a little at me with the other.
This Jessa was brand new.
“It’s because Spanish has gendered grammar!” she screamed into my ear, totally unnecessary considering not only was the noise level in the kitchen not that high but she was also standing as close to me as humanly possible, no complaints on my end. “You know, la mesa, el baño. ¿Quién inventó las palabras con los géneros? Que…” She giggled, jostling me against the counter, her arm over my shoulders and condensation from her cup dripping onto my skin. Her Spanish was about twelve hundred percent better than mine, of course, even though I was the one who was really going to need it. She kissed my cheek, her lips lingering. “Que mierda de la caballo. Ha! That one was for you, horseshit, get it? Anyway, that’s why. Because of gendered grammar.”
“That’s why what, though? Like…” I had no idea what she was talking about. Maybe it was my own head fuzzy with beer but I couldn’t remember what her point had been. “What’s because of gendered grammar?”
Jessa stared at me, unblinking. Then she laughed so hard I was pretty sure I felt spit hit my face. “Oh my god, girl. I don’t know. I forgot. Tallis. Tallis.” She kissed me again, her tongue tasting like Malibu and diet Coke. “Your name is so pretty.” Another kiss, softer, my knees knocking sideways against the kitchen island. “You’re so pretty.”
The sound of Trent Lockler arguing with Tori Leroy at the counter over whether PBR could still be considered working-class receded. I wiggled my hands on Jessa’s waist, pushing her blouse up a little so I could poke her belly-button ring. I didn’t want to be in the kitchen anymore.
“I’m going to miss your room,” I said to her ceiling, my hair mashed down into the zillion pillows she kept arranged against her bedstead. What I meant was that I was going to miss her, but her room was an ok stand-in--a metonymy, our AP Language teacher would’ve said, or maybe it was synechdoche, I never kept them straight--the bookshelves as organized as her brain, the sheets and curtains as cool as her clothing.
“Sure,” she said. Her legs pinned mine, her arms wound beneath me. “You’re going to miss my nice big shower, uh-huh, you’re going to miss how Dad makes coffee the way you like and doesn’t drink all of it.” She laid her cheek against mine, not kissing me, just looking at me. She was wearing what looked like maybe five sets of false eyelashes tonight, teal eyeliner and purple both, all the mascara in the world. She was the pretty one. “Oh yeah, you’ll miss dragging your ass out of bed at dawn to go show off for Mom. You won’t miss me.”
“What the hell?” I said, and tried to kiss her. “Why would--I mean--Jessa, I mean, you know that’s not true.”
She turned her lips away from mine and pressed them to my throat instead, underneath my chin, edging up toward my ear. “Yeah, yeah, by the time school’s back in you’ll be hooking up with your favorite skater girl...or that drummer in Gainesville we met at the open-mic night…” Her fingers scrabbled at the button of my shorts and she sank down, pressed against me so tight I thought the bed might swallow us like Nightmare On Elm Street. “You won’t miss me, girl. Don’t worry, I won’t be cramping your style anymore soon, I’ll be in zombie white suburbia drowning in horseshit. Maybe I’ll stay here and you can move instead, huh? Everybody’d be happier.”
It hurt, what she kept saying, the words rolling out with only enough pause in between for her to kiss me. The words hurt and the rest of it was so good, her hands and her tongue, every inch of her that I already missed like burning.
“You won’t,” she whispered, her mouth meeting my neck so hard my head tilted back. Her teeth raked down my throat, sinking in just enough to make me yelp. She kept twitching away from my hands, not letting me touch the way I wanted, the way I knew she liked. When her lips finally covered mine it wasn’t a kiss so much as a collision, both of us gasping, a feeling in my head and across my skin and everywhere else like I wouldn’t be the same Tallis when this was over.
I didn’t want it to be over, not any of it, not what she was doing right now and not Jessa-and-Tallis.
“Jessa,” I managed, and caught her wrists between us. She gazed down at me, heavy eyelashes drooping, her lips open and quivering. Then without so much as a change in expression tears flooded down her cheeks.
“Hey, listen--” I brushed at her cheek--pointless, since the tears didn’t show any sign of stopping, and now I had makeup all over my fingers. Panic shoved up inside my chest, burning away hunger. I was the one who cried, not her. “Jessa.”
“Don’t make me,” she sobbed, and her head dropped against my chest. My mom’s vintage Tupac t-shirt was going to be a mess in a minute. “Why are they making me leave?”
“We said…” I started, my own throat thick and rough. Yep, I’d be crying in about five seconds too. “You said it would be ok, like, the summer. Just--this.”
“I say a lot of things I don’t mean,” she muttered, sniffing, which wasn’t true at all, and that was how I knew that this--her drunk and grabbing me and bawling, the black hole taking up residence in my chest as we got closer to August--was the exact truth.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but girl, you are looking haggard.”
“You think?” I yanked my sweatshirt over my head and the rest of my words came out muffled. “Like, ten races on a ten-race card. You’d be haggard too.” Grinning at her, I tossed the sweatshirt onto one of the room’s twin beds. “Just kidding, I mean, you’ve never looked haggard in your life. Jesus God, you look even better than you did when--before--”
Before you left was the tail-end of that sentence, and it shouldn’t have still stung as much as it did. She’d gotten over it, and so had I, for real and serious even when I wasn’t kidding myself. We were friends now and that was good, because it wasn’t something we’d ever been before.
“Hardly,” Jessa said. She perched on the edge of the other bed, the clean one, the one I hadn’t mussed with my grimy-ass sweatshirt. “NYU is killing me, Tallis.”
“Well damn, aren’t you a good-looking corpse?” I began unbuttoning my shirt. “Turn around and, um, preserve my modesty.”
“Uh-huh. Modesty, like jockeys ever heard of that.” She didn’t turn, just kept watching me with her small smile. The loud lipstick she’d always loved was now accented by a lip ring. My terrible traitor brain wondered whether she still wore the little jewel in her belly button. She pushed her braids over her shoulder and smirked. “I know exactly what y’all get up to in the locker rooms.”
“Sure, if you want to get--like--those showers are nasty, Jessa, for real. I’m not in the market for trenchfoot.” The last buttonhole slid open under my fingers and I peeled my shirt away. The movement wrenched something in my back. “Shit, seriously? Again?”
“What?” She frowned as I probed at the ribs above my left hip. “You hurt yourself, didn’t you.”
“It’s old, like, I broke a couple of ribs in the summer.” I breathed deep, fingers crossed against feeling that dire pop. “You remember, I lost like eight followers on Twitter because I wouldn’t stop bitching about it.” I breathed in again. “Ok. I must’ve just...I think I strained something, that last ride. Man, was Pearls Before Swine fucking with me! I don’t know whether you saw, like, he likes to be on the lead but it wasn’t that kind of race, I mean, the track wasn’t playing that shit, so I had to really muscle him--”
“Speaking of muscle.” It’d always been like this, me running my mouth and her shutting me up with a touch. Her fingers covered mine on my ribs and then slipped them aside, gently kneading my back. “Girl, you were never fat but now you’re downright shredded.”
“Gotta be.” I tried not to sigh, tried not to let on how good her hand felt on my aching muscles. “The horses fight you, the guys…”
“I’ll bet.” Her voice was sour now. “Well, that’s the job you chose. Assholes at every pay grade.”
“Oh, I mean, they’re not so bad.” Jessa was still standing close to me, still with her hands on me--both of them now, settled between my ribs and hips. I’d always been straight up-and-down, a board with a ‘frohawk on top, and somehow she’d always found something to hold onto. “The guys at Gulfstream, like, that’s my colony. They got my back.”
“And the guys up here?” She looked at me, head tilted, her eyes deep brown. She’d ditched the colored contacts thing sometime freshman year, as I recalled. Maybe that kind of thing wasn’t cool in Manhattan. “I’ve heard Mom talk about the guys riding in New York.”
“New York’s me cutting my teeth,” I said. New York was me proving myself, to the jocks at Belmont and Aqueduct and the trainers and the betting public. I couldn’t be riding Gwen Taylor’s coattails forever. If I could do New York, I could sure do Del Mar, and maybe even Fair Grounds. “They want to give me a hard time, like, you know I’ll hand it right back.”
“Still punk as hell, I see.” One of her hands trailed up my back, fingertips beneath the band of my sports bra for just a second. “Maybe on some dark day I’ll take you to CBGB.”
“It’s not there anymore,” I grumbled. “I mean, the building where it was, the sign’s still there and it’s, like, on the historic registry, but I mean--what’s the point? If you can’t see a show?”
“Still pedantic too,” she murmured. Her hand moved again, and then I felt her fingers caught between my back and the wall. “Still obsessed with minutiae when there’s better things to be thinking about.”
“Minutiae? What kind of NYU law student word--”
Her lips were exactly as soft as I remembered, fuller and rounder than mine, the vanilla flavor of her favorite lipstick brand enveloping my mouth. There was a little tinge of liquor too, sharp on her tongue, and that was new, she must’ve had a drink at the racetrack, not that I blamed her for drinking away the boredom and distaste of a sport she hated. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry, and though I couldn’t understand why--suddenly I was starving, my whole body hungry--I tried to let her show me, tried to match my lips to hers, slow and speculative.
“Jessa,” I said when she let me. I was glad she’d backed me against the wall, because between the day’s races and the warmth of her my legs weren’t much use. “I thought…”
I didn’t know what I thought. The parts of me that did the thinking weren’t tuned in just then.
“You’re not with anybody, right?” When I shook my head she smiled, her real smile, not a single smudge of bubblegum-pink on her cheeks or chin. “Neither am I.”
“How,” I said, “is that even possible. What the hell is wrong, I mean, is every girl in New York blind?”
“There just isn’t anybody right now.”
“At least I have, like, the travel excuse.”
I leaned my head on the wall and looked at her. I’d forgotten how much I liked looking at her. It had been bad, the fall after the Taylors moved, I’d missed her and tried not to bug her with it, because we’d decided long-distance was no good. And then after a while it was more ok, we were friends and talked like friends, and I graduated and went to Miami and got distracted by being able to do what I wanted for the first time, for real.
And now New York, like I’d always known would happen, me with Gwen Taylor’s horses. At least by now I’d proved I could handle them. I hadn’t expected to handle...this, ever again.
“You’ll always be traveling,” she said. The hand still cupped around my side did some traveling of its own. I shivered when her fingers dipped beneath the waist of my jeans. “You’re traveling right now.”
“Yep,” I agreed. “Jet Blue sure did bring me up here.”
“So maybe I’ll keep you warm during the meet,” she said. “You poor Florida girl, you. I know you’re freezing.”
I kissed her again, once, twice. I let my lips drift down her throat, nestle against the spot beneath her ear that she’d liked to have kissed. “That’s not why I got goosebumps.”
Jessa leaned over and tugged the hood of my jacket away from my face. “All good in there, girl?”
“Yep.”
“You sure?” She laughed, tucking a curl inside my beanie. “You got mobility? The sidewalks are going to be icy.”
“Guess I’ll have to, like, hold your hand or something,” I said. I spun around, arms out, the heavy tread of my boots squeaking on the tile floor. Man, it was nice tile, the lobby of her building, black-and-white checker like something out of an old Mob film. “Anyway, I’m the mobilest. I’m deft, you know, quick on my feet. Three sweaters and two pairs of pants and a coat ain’t shit.”
“So that means you’ll slay when we go ice skating at Rockefeller Center,” Jessa said. When my head whipped around to her she blinked, face all innocent, and adjusted the folds of her scarf. “What? It’s your first New York Christmas. We have to.”
“Ice skating,” I said with as much dignity as possible, “is about the exact opposite of punk.”
“Sure,” Jessa said. “Like the entire sport of hockey doesn’t exist.” She linked her arm through mine and pulled me past the doorman. “Have a good night, Reggie!”
“Night, Miss Jessa,” the doorman called back.
“You’re so polite,” I said when we got outside, and then I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Get the fuck out of the way,” someone snarled, and someone else’s shoulders bumped past, and Jessa tugged me over against the side of the brownstone, laughing.
“You can’t do that here, Tallis, you’ll get run over.”
“I know.” I tilted my head back. I wanted to keep my eyes open, but snow falling directly into them didn’t feel too good, apparently. The flakes on my cheeks were like frozen kisses. “God, I mean, I’m not brand new, I’ve been here for, like, nearly a year.”
“Eight months is not a year.” Jessa kept her arm curled through mine, her mitten wrapped around my fingerless gloves. I had to admit my hand was a lot warmer that way, even if the gloves looked cool. “And I’ve seen you, you’re much better at navigating the subway than you are about just walking down the sidewalk.”
I giggled and stuck my tongue out. Who cared about pollution? The snowflakes sure looked nice and white to me. “I never even needed my driver’s license, man.”
“Still making excuses for your inability to parallel-park.” She smiled and leaned her head against the side of mine. Her hair was in cornrows now and her mother’s was short and natural, like they couldn’t have the same hairstyle at the same time, Jessa’s braids out of sight beneath the furry hood of her coat. “So. Thoughts?”
“I have a lot of them,” I admitted.
“I mean about the snow.”
I watched it come down, not heavy but steady, no wind and tiny white pinpricks falling. It almost looked purposeful. It was different being out in it than it’d looked from the window of Jessa’s studio, when she’d woken me up and told me to come see. Outside now, the flakes were almost transparent, fighting with New York’s light pollution. I thought I liked it.
“It’s pretty,” I said, and Jessa snickered.
“Pretty? Just pretty? Where’s the Tallis treatise?”
I shook my head. It was pretty and that was all I had, or maybe it was that she was pretty--the fur hood framing her face, the soft dimple in her chin disappearing into her scarf when she smiled. She looked like she’d always been roughing it in New York winter, like she’d never been a Florida girl, never worn Uggs when it hit 55 degrees for three days in January. She was ahead of me like she’d always been. Standing on a snowy hill and waving, waiting for me to catch up.
Snowflakes sat on the tips of her falsies, little bits of ice that glinted and matched the opals in her nose ring. She was waiting, still, she’d always been good at that, giving me time to say whatever it was that was stuck in my head.
Instead I stuck my tongue out again and caught snowflakes and kissed her, mouth open and cold. She startled against me, her mitten fingers tightening on mine, and then giggled. “Eat too much of that stuff, you’ll get dysentery and die like Oregon Trail.”
“Can’t die before we go ice-skating!” I said, pushing my freezing cheeks against hers. “Come on, Jessa, what else is on the Big Apple Christmas checklist?”
“You know,” she said. She pulled me back onto the sidewalk, moving just quickly enough not to piss off fellow travelers. “Sledding in Gramercy Park. The Rockettes.” Her eyes slid sideways in that evil Jessa look I’d missed. “Maybe if you win that really goth-sounding race I’ll even kiss you at midnight on New Year’s.”
“What if I don’t wanna wait ‘til New Year’s?”
“And every night ‘til then,” she said, and tugged me down the stairs to the Harlem subway stop.
It was kind of cozy, I thought, staring out the jocks’ room window at the snow, and I said so to Jessa.
“Cozy,” she repeated. “How cozy are you going to be when the power shuts off? Freezing to death at Aqueduct, of all places, was not how I planned on going out.”
“Would you be more into, you know, hypothermia if we were at Saratoga? It’s so pretty when it snows up there, like, the NYRA account tweeted a photo the other day and it looked like a fairytale, I mean, all the pine trees and--”
“No, Tallis,” she said. She flopped onto the grody couch without even grimacing at the suspiciously ass-shaped worn spots and that was how I knew she was actually bothered. “I’m serious. The winter we got up here a big snow storm came out of nowhere during a race day and the power went off about an hour in. All the personnel hadn’t even left yet! I knew I should’ve driven, you didn’t put snow tires on your car.”
I went over and sat by her, curling my legs up and my arm around her shoulders. “I’ll keep you warm, never you fear.”
“You have zero percent body fat.” Jessa leaned her head against mine, and I felt her cheek round out in a smile. “Girl, I’ll be the one keeping you warm.”
“Um, as you well know, I am really good at generating body heat, like, it’s one of my specialties.” I slid onto her lap and grabbed her shoulders, rubbing her arms through her sweater. She rolled her eyes and giggled. “Yeah? No? Ok, how about--” And I kissed her, the motion of my hands slowing until they slipped down, beneath her elbows, and she pulled me close enough to feel her heartbeat speeding up. She was warm--there were a lot of things I liked about New York winters, surprisingly, but the best was how warm Jessa felt at night, snuggled up to me in bed--and she sighed, tilting the heavy mass of her braids back against the couch.
“Not to interrupt or anything--” someone said, and I jerked upright, twisting to look toward the door. When I saw who was there I scrambled back off Jessa and stood up.
“Felix, hey.”
It still felt weird and wrong and completely improbable to call her Felix, even if I’d had my real grown-person jockey’s license for almost three years and ridden with her and beaten her, more than once. She stood there in the doorway, grinning at us, half her face hidden by a huge scarf.
“You guys should probably leave if you’re gonna, it’s supposed to get worse.”
Jessa sighed again, this time not in her sexy way. “The roads are already terrible, I know.” She grabbed my hand and let me haul her off the couch. “This innocent southern specimen doesn’t have snow tires on her car.”
“I drove all last winter without snow tires!” I protested. “I didn’t get in any wrecks, like, I didn’t even spin out on the Thruway like some people--”
“Felicia, we are out, vamos,” someone else said from behind Felix. Eddy Ramon appeared, his hair dusted with snow where it poked out from his hat. “Oh, hey, Tallis. Jessa.”
Hey Tallis, like he wasn’t still the third-winningest rider in US history. I waved.
“We can drive you,” Felix said. “He’s got more than enough room and you should see the size of the snow tires on that machine.” She smirked and elbowed Eddy, though I doubted it had much impact considering how many coats he seemed to be wearing. “Remind me to check with Phil, see if you’re overcompensating for something.”
“My truck does not need sauce from the girl who once drove down I24 in a blizzard with the sun roof open.” Eddy smiled at me. “We can definitely drive you, no problem.”
“Doubt they’ll open back up tomorrow, this Ileana bitch keeps hammering us the way she is,” Felix said. She held the jocks’ room door open for Jessa. “Who names winter storms, anyway?”
“Seems unnecessary,” Eddy said.
“Remember the Frankenstorm?” Felix snorted, winding her scarf higher over her chin. “Turfway don’t close for love nor money.”
“As I recall, you made a hell of a lot of money that weekend,” Eddy said. “So I ain’t sure why you’re complaining in the reminiscence.” He braced his hands on the door to the breezeway and looked at Jessa. “Miss Jessa, you want I should go get the truck and you all wait?”
“This gentleman,” Felix said. “Don’t be fooled. One time he and Jensen locked me on the balcony here when it was like 12 degrees out.”
“Jocks’ room, jocks’ rules,” Eddy said, unruffled. “Jessa’s a civilian, and I live in terror of her momma even still.”
“Fair,” Felix said. “Christ, wrap her up in that blanket you keep in the back, the thought of dinging Gwen Taylor’s baby is unmentionable.”
Jessa cleared her throat. “Still right here, guys.”
She had an easy way, talking to them. I guessed it was because they’d always been around, in her childhood, working at South Hills and eating dinner with her parents in Miami. It was almost impossible for me to imagine, but that didn’t keep me from spending way too much time thinking about it.
“And,” Jessa went on, “the one you should be worried about dinging is Tallis.” She wrapped her arm around my waist. “Mom might shed a tear if you lost me in a snowbank but she’d scream bloody murder if you broke her favorite jockey. Who’d win the Jerome if Tallis wasn’t around?”
I bit my lip as Eddy laughed and Felix’s nostrils flared a little. “Good reason to survive the weekend,” she said. “He’ll just drive real slow on the parkway, right? Y’all are going to Long Hills?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I’m not going to, you know--I mean I would never ask you to drive to Harlem in, like. This.”
“Ay, you live in Harlem?” Eddy said. “So, quick poll for science, who would be down for trying out that Thai place on 118th?”
“Sure,” Felix said, shoving the door open. I braced myself against the blast of snow and icy air that came whirling in. “Sure, you and Jessa sit there and eat green curry and lychee ice cream while me and Tallis get our kicks from the good smells. So fun.”
“Come on, nena, take one for the team, I been living on nachos since I got here.”
Felix said something back as they both started down the walkway. Jessa smiled at me, kissed my cheek, and wrapped my left hand in both of hers. “Ready to spend the rest of the foreseeable future with your heroes?”
“Like, if I die on the Kennedy Bridge while Eddy and Felix argue about their career highlights,” I said, tucking my head down against icy snowflakes, “I will die happy.”
Jessa laughed, the sound snatched away by the wind, and didn’t say anything while we trudged across the horsemen’s lot. Her face, so far as I could see it through snow and her furry hood, reminded me of when I’d come home from the hospital last spring with a broken arm. As her mitten fingers tightened around mine, it occurred to me that maybe any kind of jokes about dying could stay in the jockeys’ room.
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Odell Beckham Jr Hair, Tattoos, Shoes, Hand Size, Height, Weight
Fashion, haircuts, and tattoos in sports have become an obsession for many. We have many great and entertaining sports including baseball, golf, soccer, hockey, but NFL’s American Football is arguably one of the most enjoyable and entertaining sport to watch. Not only because of the level of engagement it brings, but we get to see all sorts of haircuts (for those who are looking for inspiration) and the like of Odell Beckham Jr Hair keeps our imagination running wild.
If you have been watching NFL for a while now, you have probably heard of Odell Beckham Jr. For those who are familiar with him, you can agree with me that he will become one of the most iconic players of his generation. He is by far one of the biggest stars the football league has to offer today. He has grown to become one of the most influential players in the NFL and most of his fans are probably figuring out how they’ll live without this NFL superstar. Today in this post, we want to discuss a few details about him. Read on and get to know.
Odell Beckham Jr. is an American football star who plays for New York Giants as a wide receiver. He was born on the fifth of November 1992 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and attended Isidore Newman School in New Orleans, where he was a letterman in basketball, track and in NFL football, he has been a wide receiver, running back, cornerback as well as a quarterback for the Greenies football team. It is imperative to note that he was a hugely talented individual who took part in a whole host of other sports including soccer, basketball and was also an excellent track and field athlete. In basketball, he lettered all four years and always featured in the all-district selections during both his senior and junior years. Equally, he played some soccer during his youth and considers the retired English player David Beckham his childhood idol. As a highly promising track and field athlete, Odell is believed to have followed his mother’s footsteps to excel in both jumping and sprinting events during his time in high school.
He was signed by New York Giants in May 2014 and made his debut on October 5, 2014, after overcoming his injury woes. He has since gone to establish himself as an integral member of the Giants squad and has earned numerous accolades including the 2014 Football Pro Writers Association Offensive Rookie of the Year award as well as the 2015 Offensive Rookie of the Year award by the Associated Press.
Odell Beckham Jr Haircut, Colors, and Style
As an NFL star, he is not just known for his prowess in the American Football. He is not only admired for his achievements as a talented football player but as a man full of style. He has had numerous eye-catching hairstyles ever since he was in college, and lots of his fans have always paid attention to the evolution of his unique fashion on hairstyles. Typically, the current Odell Beckham Jr. haircut is referred to as faded frohawk, a style deemed to be one of the best among people of color.
To be more precise, this type of hairstyle is somehow similar to the Mohawk but with an afro combined together thus resulting in a unique, innovative and amazing hairstyle. Frohawk is relatively wider in the front of your head and proportionally becomes thinner through the back. The hair is usually first bleached and then styled into relatively thick spikes using a particular styling product. The sides are skin-faded and a full grown beard is left to touch the fade around the ears. It is critical to mention that the most commonly known Odell Beckham’s hairstyle usually feature orange, blonde highlights especially on the afro part of the hair. His style has always rocked the world and it is no secret that most people would want to try them out.
Odell Beckham’s Tattoos
Odell Beckham Jr’s latest leg tattoos feature a whole host of prominent figures, including Malcolm X, AI stepping over Ty Lue, MJ, Bob Marley, Jesse Owens, Allen Iverson stepping over Lue Tyronn, Dr Martin Luther King Jr., Barack Obama, Lil Wayne, Tupac as well as the legendary boxer, Muhammad Ali. Simply put, he now boasts one of the most spectacular tattoos on the globe, which is simply a great work of art; one that takes you through the American history!
Odell Beckham’s Shoes
As a football star, he has his lifestyle sneaker that features the Nike SF Mid AF-1. Some notable features of this unique footwear are adjustable ankle straps, top-end leather construction with nylon accents, co-branding, full-length gum sole unit and perhaps the zippering system of its heel. It is also worth mentioning that there are certain details which appear on the model such as the Metlife Stadium, the latitude, and longitude of the city of his birth, markers for his home field, his jersey number and position.
Odell Beckham’s Hand Size
Odell boasts an athletic body and perhaps it’s due to this that he has strong and powerful hands. Research has shown that the average size of a male’s hand is about seven and a half inches, which is perfect for wrapping around a pint glass! However, his hand measures ten inches which is incredible.
His Height and weight
Odell Beckham’s height is 1.80 m(5 ft 11 inches). On the other hand, he weighs 198 lb (90 kg).
Source: https://beautyreflectionsblog.com/odell-beckham-jr-hair-tattoos-shoes-hand-size-height-weight/
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Odell Beckham Jr Hair, Tattoos, Shoes, Hand Size, Height, Weight
Fashion, haircuts, and tattoos in sports have become an obsession for many. We have many great and entertaining sports including baseball, golf, soccer, hockey, but NFL’s American Football is arguably one of the most enjoyable and entertaining sport to watch. Not only because of the level of engagement it brings, but we get to see all sorts of haircuts (for those who are looking for inspiration) and the like of Odell Beckham Jr Hair keeps our imagination running wild.
If you have been watching NFL for a while now, you have probably heard of Odell Beckham Jr. For those who are familiar with him, you can agree with me that he will become one of the most iconic players of his generation. He is by far one of the biggest stars the football league has to offer today. He has grown to become one of the most influential players in the NFL and most of his fans are probably figuring out how they’ll live without this NFL superstar. Today in this post, we want to discuss a few details about him. Read on and get to know.
Odell Beckham Jr. is an American football star who plays for New York Giants as a wide receiver. He was born on the fifth of November 1992 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and attended Isidore Newman School in New Orleans, where he was a letterman in basketball, track and in NFL football, he has been a wide receiver, running back, cornerback as well as a quarterback for the Greenies football team. It is imperative to note that he was a hugely talented individual who took part in a whole host of other sports including soccer, basketball and was also an excellent track and field athlete. In basketball, he lettered all four years and always featured in the all-district selections during both his senior and junior years. Equally, he played some soccer during his youth and considers the retired English player David Beckham his childhood idol. As a highly promising track and field athlete, Odell is believed to have followed his mother’s footsteps to excel in both jumping and sprinting events during his time in high school.
He was signed by New York Giants in May 2014 and made his debut on October 5, 2014, after overcoming his injury woes. He has since gone to establish himself as an integral member of the Giants squad and has earned numerous accolades including the 2014 Football Pro Writers Association Offensive Rookie of the Year award as well as the 2015 Offensive Rookie of the Year award by the Associated Press.
Odell Beckham Jr Haircut, Colors, and Style
As an NFL star, he is not just known for his prowess in the American Football. He is not only admired for his achievements as a talented football player but as a man full of style. He has had numerous eye-catching hairstyles ever since he was in college, and lots of his fans have always paid attention to the evolution of his unique fashion on hairstyles. Typically, the current Odell Beckham Jr. haircut is referred to as faded frohawk, a style deemed to be one of the best among people of color.
To be more precise, this type of hairstyle is somehow similar to the Mohawk but with an afro combined together thus resulting in a unique, innovative and amazing hairstyle. Frohawk is relatively wider in the front of your head and proportionally becomes thinner through the back. The hair is usually first bleached and then styled into relatively thick spikes using a particular styling product. The sides are skin-faded and a full grown beard is left to touch the fade around the ears. It is critical to mention that the most commonly known Odell Beckham’s hairstyle usually feature orange, blonde highlights especially on the afro part of the hair. His style has always rocked the world and it is no secret that most people would want to try them out.
Odell Beckham’s Tattoos
Odell Beckham Jr’s latest leg tattoos feature a whole host of prominent figures, including Malcolm X, AI stepping over Ty Lue, MJ, Bob Marley, Jesse Owens, Allen Iverson stepping over Lue Tyronn, Dr Martin Luther King Jr., Barack Obama, Lil Wayne, Tupac as well as the legendary boxer, Muhammad Ali. Simply put, he now boasts one of the most spectacular tattoos on the globe, which is simply a great work of art; one that takes you through the American history!
Odell Beckham’s Shoes
As a football star, he has his lifestyle sneaker that features the Nike SF Mid AF-1. Some notable features of this unique footwear are adjustable ankle straps, top-end leather construction with nylon accents, co-branding, full-length gum sole unit and perhaps the zippering system of its heel. It is also worth mentioning that there are certain details which appear on the model such as the Metlife Stadium, the latitude, and longitude of the city of his birth, markers for his home field, his jersey number and position.
Odell Beckham’s Hand Size
Odell boasts an athletic body and perhaps it’s due to this that he has strong and powerful hands. Research has shown that the average size of a male’s hand is about seven and a half inches, which is perfect for wrapping around a pint glass! However, his hand measures ten inches which is incredible.
His Height and weight
Odell Beckham’s height is 1.80 m(5 ft 11 inches). On the other hand, he weighs 198 lb (90 kg).
Source: https://beautyreflectionsblog.com/odell-beckham-jr-hair-tattoos-shoes-hand-size-height-weight/
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New Year, New Hair: New Year’s Eve Style Inspiration!
As the holiday season continues so do the parties. #TeamTresse is showing our top 5 favorite looks to make sure that you stand out in the best way on New Year’s Eve.
#1. Bobby pin glam: Jazz up any look with the stylized exposed bobby pin trend.
https://www.essence.com/hair/exposed-bobby-pin-hairstyles
#2. Twist and Curl: Love this downward French twists with a twist-out bang look which can be both formal and festive.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDd2nfRqtVM
#3. Faux bangs: Create a faux bang with the addition of some Marley hair to he top of your puff.
https://youtu.be/aV5tusXBTyM
#4. Frohawk with a twist: This style features flat twists adorned with hair jewels on each side with the pinned up frohawk look. The hair jewels are a nice compliment for the festive season.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhnfUfDppE0
#5. Twisted updo: Upward French twists brought into a top-knot “puff”can takes this relaxed look to a new level.
https://youtu.be/j7TMlryf748?t=37s
We hope that you #HoliSlay with some of our fav New Year’s Eve chic hairstyles. Let us know which was your favorite in the comments!
Written by Imani Briscoe
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19. The Grand
Sunny didn't have the patience to do her own hair. It always impressed her whenever she saw Jalicia skillfully creating works of art on the sides of her frohawk fade. But Sunny NEVER did her own hair.
Even after she was kidnapped, she just had it shaved all off when she was out on the streets. Rubbing in some leave-in conditioner and oiling her scalp was the most work she wanted to do, so she mostly kept it short or wore wigs. Sometimes she put in braids or weave.
This winter, she decided she might like to return to faux locs. It was something that she tried not to do too often, otherwise she would be transported to the embarrassment of trying to always be like Grace when they were kids. She used to try to wear styles like Grace, carried herself like her, and her least favorite but at the time most special skill… imitate her for company.
If Grace couldn’t make it to an appointment or if the kids needed backup against a rival toughie and Grace wasn't around, Sunny would step in and without ever saying she was Grace, she'd clear them out, because they thought she was Grace.
Whenever someone might need that extra coaxing that only a girl could give, Sunny didn't mind being that. They never claimed it was honest, but it was a living. She had already been trained to do that anyway. Her steward compared her to Grace all the time beforehand, and once she was with The Apex, she certainly didn't want to be her old self anymore. To be the girl who got Todd killed?? No. She would always be that, but she could pretend to be someone else and if she did it well enough, she might convince everybody else that she was. A younger, smaller, hungrier Grace was good.
Number 1000. She sat in the chair while her friend sewed in the loc extensions and let her mind drift.
I am surrounded by love…
.
She knew him as "Jax." He told her that he was 19 and lived in Seattle. She was from Bellevue, so it wasn't too far, but she couldn't tell her parents she wanted to go to Seattle to meet a 19 year old. She was only 12, herself, when they met online.
There were a few choices she made that she later hated herself for, and even later still forgave herself for, because she was a child, after all and Jax was a grown man who took advantage of her.
He wasn't even 19. His ass turned out to be 35… though she still wasn't sure of that when they met in person. She had seen so many 25 and ups play teenage roles in TV and movies that 12 year old her wasn't great at knowing ages. 21 year old her sure could.
But at 12, that man who told her he was 19 and built a friendship with her over the internet was one of the most trustworthy people she had ever met and she loved him. Even when she lied to her parents just to go see him. Even when he wouldn't let her go back home. Even when he hurt her… she just… thought maybe this was what the old folks meant when they said that relationships weren't easy and that love took hard work.
He told her that she couldn't call her parents, because they would make him go to jail for loving her. But, she hadn't agreed never to see them again when she met up with him. She at least wanted to tell them goodbye and apologize for leaving… But Jax took her phone from her and she had never memorized their phone numbers. 21 year old Sunny memorized EVERY phone number.
She was put away in the house and usually locked in her room. She sometimes was locked in a room with the littles. She sometimes was locked in a room with the older boys. But she was never allowed to leave the house by herself and when she did leave, she was ordered to tell Jax everything.. though he no longer let her call him Jax. That was just his "online persona." She was to call him "Steward," now, and he usually had a mask on his face.
He said that seeing his face was a privilege that only his lovers and friends had. The other kids couldn't be trusted to see him. And he said that he trusted her the most. He was her first love, her first kiss, her first time. He'd tell the kids, "Check in with the Grand." The Grand! She was the 1000th kid that he had ever had in his care and according to him, worth more than all of them put together. She was the one that wanted to be with him. She was the one who was loyal and faithful before he brought her there. She was "special." She loved being special.
The problem with this was that nobody else in the house loved her being special. She was the only one with her own room. The others would have anywhere from 4-10 kids to a room and all of the ones in higher number rooms wondered what made The Grand so special? She hadn’t even been there long. She hadn’t even gone out and done any work. To them, she didn’t deserve to be special. The teenage boys had enough. Whenever her steward went to go conduct some business - which was what he always left the house to do and included everything from actually conducting business to spending a few nights at the girlfriend his age’s house - four of the boys took matters into their own hands.
If the Grand was going to get special privileges, she was gonna be put to work. She was shaken by their attack. She hadn’t been prepared for the brutality of it. They touched her with hate and even though they claimed that she wouldn’t be bruised (as they didn’t really want to be caught, ultimately), they hurt her. In ways that she didn’t realize that she could be hurt. They made recordings on their phones. They taunted her by telling her that they would show others for a few dollars, make her “an infamous preteen pornstar,” and that if she told Steward, she’d regret it. Because IF she told him, she would finally see that she wasn’t very special, at all. He would send her to one of the other rooms with other kids. He would put her on the corner or send her to a strange house. He would let his friends take turns with her and never let her see one dime of what he made off it. She would be just like the rest of them. “The only reason that you’re special to him right now is because you’re still fresh. As soon as you aren’t, you’ll just be the 1000th kid he’s using up.”
She didn’t want to believe that, but it sounded true. So, she didn’t tell him when they did that to her and fortunately, they hadn’t left any marks that would give it away. She didn’t tell him when they took her to a frat party to catch her on camera with some of the bros and then extort them by claiming that they would have proof sent in that they were pedos. She didn’t tell on them when they’d use her as a distraction, “doing what she does” to some dude with money and leaving the door unlocked so that they could sneak in and rob him blind while he was committing his crime.
But, regardless of whether or not she told him, he knew that something was up. There was a raid. But, it wasn’t law enforcement. He had called in stewards from other houses and gotten his most trusted teenagers to assist. The masked adults went through all of the rooms, taking things out and examining them and whenever Steward saw the recordings. When he saw HIS Grand, being used by others, it was as the older boys had said. She wasn’t so special to him anymore. And she spent the rest of her time there trying to win his affection again.
He didn’t stop sleeping with her. He kept her in his bed at night, but he didn’t lock her up anymore. He didn’t care whether she roamed the house or if she left or not. She wanted to try to go home, but she was too scared. She didn’t want to return and have them also see her as not special anymore. This was her home, now.
Now, she just had to do what she had to do to survive the place. Her first order of business was to tempt the ringleader of the teen boys who had damaged her spot and make him regret it. She was so good at seduction now that looking back, that was terrifying. That she had been so young and trained to be that way so well. She didn’t do it at the house. She did it at a different house. They made a mark of some old dude and she was doing her thing that she does, but had scored pills that she was able to crush and sneak into his drink. He was OUT and she claimed to the boys that it was time to party!
They wrecked his house, and she had the chance to finally take out a lot of her anger on all of the expensive shit that was too heavy or too obscure for them to steal. When she had a moment, she tempted her target by flirtatiously wondering if he wanted to go to the roof with her. They weren’t up there very long before his friends heard him scream on his way down. She came running into them and claimed, “187 FELL off of the roof!” on her way out of the door to him. They followed after her and they saw him there. He wasn’t dead, but he couldn’t move and he couldn’t speak. He was looking at her, but he couldn’t do anything. “We have to get outta here,” The Grand told the boys, “If we get tied to him, that’ll jeopardize everything!” They nodded and immediately took off running. But, she stared down at the boy for a while. She saw tears falling down the sides of his face. He knew where he was and what had happened, but his injury didn’t allow him to do anything about it. She blew him a kiss and said, “I had a LOVELY time tonight,” before she took off running as well.
The house went on lockdown. They couldn’t conduct any type of business and Steward had left them there, with the other teenagers in charge, in the event that anyone stopped by, if 187 had ever told anybody about the house, or if he survived and would tell.
But, the Grand wasn’t disappointed in these events. In fact, she was pleased with them. This was her doing. She was still special, just not in the way that they all thought. She was friendly, and cheerful. It made her seem weak. She never really attacked anybody and there were several times when one of the tougher, meaner, stronger, or bigger kids had come for her and she took her beating like a champ, only for something to happen to them later. “You’re sneaky,” Steward had told her, after one such incident, where his new favorite girl had tried to push her weight around and the Grand had dropped a little bit of rat poison into her dinner. “I don’t know how you made her sick, but I know it was you.”
“I would have voted on her cooking,” she said and he slapped her in the mouth. It made her bleed and it made her cry.
“Stop. Messing with. MY property! That’s what all of these kids are. That’s what YOU are. If you continue being a problem… it would be in my best interest to cut my losses. You know how losses are cut around here?”
She nodded, still crying, then whimpered, “But, I didn’t DO anything. I would never do anything to hurt you or your property, Jax.” He looked like he might strike her again and she held her breath for it. But, instead, he scoffed and folded his arms.
“214. Keep an eye on 1000,” he said. That hurt her more than the slap. Keep an eye on her? 1000? She was The Grand! SHE was the one that kept an eye on THEM!
“Yes, Sir!” that little fuck said. She fought the urge to snarl at him, but whenever Steward disappeared, the boy told her, “I’ve known him a long time, so he trusts me to follow house rules. If you wanna break a few, I’m not gonna rat you out. This place is tough. It sucks, actually. So, if you need to do your own thing, I get it. Just don’t do some shit that’s gonna get ME busted, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said hoarsely.
He gave her a smile. He was SO young, but he had very old looking eyes. She couldn’t explain it. Like, there were crinkles in the corners and they drooped a little, like he was super tired. He held his hand out and told her, “Call me Todd.”
She furrowed her eyebrows and he shrugged his shoulders, “House rules are that nobody is a name, we’re numbers, but our steward isn’t here.”
She took a swallow and it was more blood than spit and made her gag a little. She didn’t get a chance to tell him her name, because when he realized that she was feeling ill, he quickly took her hand and said, “Come on, let's get you fixed up.”
.
I Am Surrounded by Love by Beautiful Chorus Plays in the Background
“Hey, yo. What’s the name of this song?” Jalicia asked Sunny. Sunny told her and they continued on with what they were doing. After a while, Jalicia announced, “I am so hungry. You not gonna cook? That’s rude when you have company!” Sunny’s head lifted at her friend and she noticed that she had a tentative smile on her face. This was an attempt at humor. Jalicia had never been good at it, but always liked to try to use it whenever she was feeling low. Heath would feed off of her terrible way of joking around and make something out of it. But, with him gone, Sunny simply forced a smile of her own.
“I’m thinking of trying out a place. Put some shoes on and I’ll take you.” Jalicia lifted prayer hands to her, grateful that she would have mercy on her. Xander was NOT the one. Jalicia ate so many instant meals since Heath died that she felt it slowly killing her. At least that’s what she surmised from her sinking health conditions.
Sunny told her that every symptom that she complained about was potentially grief. Great. So, it was sadness killing her? She couldn’t even leave this dreadful place having a good time?!? Whenever Sunny’s little ladybug pulled up to the restaurant, Jalicia threw her a look and wondered, “Where are we?”
Sunny smiled at her. Jalicia couldn’t figure out the words: Le Bistro Parfait. They looked like they were words, but not words that she was necessarily familiar with. She wasn’t a great reader. Heath had tried to teach her for her whole life… but he was just another kid, not a teacher, so she took to word search puzzles and word searches, making a lot of mistakes to sound out stuff that fit, and she enjoyed writing, but whenever she tested upon being found, she was estimated to be at something like a 4th grade reading level.
Sure, that was about 6 years ago, but she didn’t learn French, ever. She didn’t even know that she was looking at French.
But what she did know was that Grace had mentioned that Simon’s mother had a French restaurant, and from how she spoke about it, Jalicia was almost certain that it was where Sunny had brought her.
When they got out and went inside, it was confirmed. Grace was always a skilled storyteller. Her description of places was always spot on. “Sunny. Is this Simon’s mom’s place?”
Sunny furrowed her eyebrows and smiled, “Girl, who the hell is that?” she asked.
Whenever Jalicia frowned, she corrected herself with, “The information that Xander collected shortly before all of the hubbub just wasn’t enough to tell us very much. Besides, everything went to hell when Xan broke protocol and went after him. Every time I start to give him credit for doing better, he fucks the nearest animal and shits the nearest bed.”
Jalicia looked disgusted, “You can’t just be a normal person and say he fucks up?”
“I don’t think that would fully encompass the level on which he’s fucked up,” Sunny said, then smiled when a woman with dyed blond hair approached and greeted them. She led them to a booth and got them menus. Sunny was such a phony the entire time. Her smile, her voice and her eyes gave nothing away to the woman, but more terrifying for Jalicia, they gave nothing away to her, either.
That wasn’t completely surprising. Sunny and Jalicia had never been very close. In fact, whenever Sunny came in, Heath had specifically told Jalicia not to talk to her and never to trust her. Of course, that had been because of what happened before that, and as an older person, Jalicia knew that Sunny was no longer the scared little girl who got their friend killed by tattling to the wrong people…
But, Jalicia wasn’t sure if she knew who Sunny was, ever.
As soon as the woman walked away, Sunny said, in a voice low enough not to be heard, but casual enough not to sound suspicious, “That’s definitely her. They have the same smile and the same mannerisms.”
Jalicia squinted at the woman. She didn’t look anything like Simon. She guessed maybe they had the same smile, but she just didn’t see whatever Sunny was seeing. Not at first. But, after watching her for a while, she did note a few things, herself.
Although the woman didn’t seem to be shy, she did this slight little dip with her head, like she was about to shrink in embarrassment, but then instead, lifted her hands like she was handing over something and turned the gesture into a bow. She had seen Simon do that before and just figured it was some of his elf lore customs or something. Now, she saw that it was learned behavior from his adult.
“If you want to know more about Simon, why not just tell that lady we’re Grace’s friends and she’ll probably do that weird annoying thing that parents do where they think you want to know everything about their damn kid.”
“Because Grace hasn’t spoken to Simon since that night. I don’t know what kind of person this bitch is, or if she knows anything. Most importantly, she’d tell him that we stopped by. He can’t know that.”
“I thought we were leaving him alone though,” Jalicia whined. “I don’t know. Heath always said that even if you don’t trust somebody, that doesn’t mean you have to do them wrong, especially if they did you right.”
Sunny threw her one of her unreadable looks that usually chilled Jalicia to her bones, because why would you, as my friend, look at me in a way that I can’t figure out your feelings? “You think that he did you right, Sis?” Sunny asked.
Now, Jalicia felt silly. This was a man who stalked their leader, witnessed more than any reasonable person could stomach from them and still came around… But, he found Heath’s killer for her and he was… just nice about it all. “I think that there was some reason that Grace fell in love with him,” she finally answered. Sunny’s smile grew, but she didn’t reply. Jalicia expounded, “I mean, that’s why she let him fool her, right? She was blinded by falling in love.”
Sunny didn’t reply. The fact that this was how Jalicia described the sickness that happened between Grace and Him told her that the girl could not look at them with a clear or accurate lens. First, she felt indebted to him from that solid with Heath, despite insisting that she didn’t, and now, she described Grace’s terrible attempt at connecting with a person “falling in love,” and with the heartbreak she had recently, there would be nothing Sunny could say to make her be more sensible about this. So, she shrugged her shoulders and assessed the building. She was casing the place, for weapons, for potential weapons, exits, and so on.
“And even if he’s not an okay person who Grace is in love with,” Jalicia went on, “She wouldn’t approve of whatever it is that you’re doing and I think that you know that and I think that’s why you didn’t tell us that you’ve made a side project of him.”
“I haven’t made a side project of him. He is my main objective. Hell you mean, Girl? Xandri said that he told her that he wouldn’t stop until he found Grace.”
Jalicia sat up straight when the woman returned with their drinks. Hot tea for Sunny, iced tea for Jalicia. Whenever she left them again, Jalicia spoke first as Sunny began pulling out her personal tea additives from her bag, “Speaking of her… how is it to see her show face again this time?”
Sunny stirred her tea and studied her menu, “It is how it is with that.” The last thing that she wanted to do while checking out this place was delve into her feelings about Xander and Alexandria being back in communication. Sunny worked nights mostly, doing her burlesque shows at the cabaret, and she had school, extracurriculars, spirituality matters and a social life. So, whenever Xander got out of rehab, she was ready for him to come over and spend time at hers. But, with Jalicia having moved in with him and both of their schedules not being proper to spend his weakest moments, of course Grace called in Alexandria to assist in keeping an eye on him.
It was fine until Xander called on Alexandria to help him out with Simon.
Sunny knew that nobody could pick locks like Xandria and that helped, but he didn’t even mention looking into Simon, claiming that as Grace’s “Left Hand,” he worried that she would fight him on this and perhaps tell Grace before he had the chance to get everything figured out. He’d left her in the dark and once again, chosen Alexandria over him. NOW, he was whining to her about how he thought Simon had gotten into Xandria’s mind and apparently now, Sunny was “the only person he could trust…”
Well, everybody was deferring to Sunny when Grace was gone, these days. She just didn’t want that type of pressure on Xander at the moment. So, the Simon problem that she wasn’t even really there to witness was now her problem. Just another thing to add to her mental notes of how Simon had her fucked up.
Hearing about him wasn’t enough, because the people who she knew who interacted with him were Xander, Jalicia, Alexandria, and Grace. All four of them had a different take on that man and if she applied her usual logic and deduction for each of them specifically and how they read people and combine the information… she still came up with very little that she felt confident taking at face value.
Xander insisted he was an obsessed control freak who wanted to take over Grace's life and would probably hurt her eventually. "But what has he done? What did he say?"
Jalicia referred to him as a pretty sweet dude who is weird for sure, but didn't seem dangerous or unstable. "And what about the things that the others have said that he's said and done?"
It was Alexandria's report that gave her the most pause. She said that he was a friendly hostage and didn't seem to be afraid that she might hurt him at all. She couldn't tell if that was because he was cocky and knew Grace wouldn't let it happen or if he was just terrible at reading her and didn't realize that the person in front of him had literally set people on fire in holes in the Field of Nulls.
But it was the dialog. Sunny made Alexandria repeat it all for her, stopping at different points to ask it if was paraphrasing or his exact words and Xandria definitely didn't remember everything he said word for word, as according to her he talked like he was in the process of writing a book during the conversation, but she did remember that he specifically told her that he would not stop looking for Grace.
And Grace? She was where most of the information came from… and after the fiasco the other three had told her, Sunny felt that Grace might not realize it, but she was definitely an unreliable source about him.
The best source about anyone or anything? Why, Sunny, herself, of course.
So, she began to talk to Grace more about him, specifically. Not just how she felt, but what happened between them and things he did and said. His reactions and facial expressions during those times, and so forth.
Coming to this place was just a casual intel collection.
“Everything looks so good, I want to order it all!” Sunny said, into her menu, “Do you have a to go menu that I could leave with today?”
The woman cheerfully rushed to grab a couple for her and by the time she returned, the ladies were ready to order.
.
I am surrounded by love……
Sunny was driving the van, which meant that she was on high alert. Anything that could go wrong, she wanted to be ready for and attentive to. That was why whenever she saw a vehicle tailing them and trying to be sneaky, she noticed it. Furthermore, she knew that vehicle, even in the dark. It was him. Grace’s Watcher Boo… Jimbon… She chuckled a little. That wasn’t his name, but it tickled her to assign him stuff that wasn’t. She waited until the drop off, letting him try to remain unseen like there were many places to hide an entire vehicle. She even let him get out of his car and snoop around. Her first instinct was to run him over and bury him with the others… but this was Grace’s… thing. If she did that, Grace would never forgive her. She didn’t know how to handle this very serious threat to the operation, to her friends and potentially to Grace, so she waited until he was back in view of the van and she pulled away. He’d follow her. She was confident that he would and she was right. She saw him rushing to his car as she sped away from the premises… But… he never appeared.
She turned around after a few minutes to circle back and see if he was still snooping. His car was gone. “Damn it…” She clenched her fists, shut her eyes and repeatedly said, “I am special. I cannot be defeated by the mediocre. I can not be bested by the least. I am powerful. I am smart. I am a beast.” She pulled away once again. He had to go home, eventually. She stopped at a stop sign on the way to his house and… she got out of the car. A few deep breaths, some hard kicks, and one cry of rage later, she had uprooted it from the earth. She threw it into the van and kept going. Xandri had told her where the house was. She might not have an address, but she knew his car. She continued driving and lo and behold… his car.
She smiled to herself, beneath the gold mask that she wore tonight. One just like Grace’s first one. She had the faux locs pulled up back and tied up, then secured inside of a black tam hat and she knew that if he did see her, he would be afraid. She hoped that would be enough. She didn’t want to hurt him, because that would hurt Grace. But, if it came down to hurting him to get him away from Grace, even if she would hate her for it, Sunny would be willing to do that.
She let Simon lose her and simply headed for his house. He had to come home eventually, and if she had to wait for him, she wasn’t above that. She wound up behind him again and laughed to herself. If he was still chill after all of this, maybe he deserved an award, but one thing she was sure of, the was in The Grand mode and she would get the message that she intended to get across. She parked at the bottom of the hill and opened the glove compartment for one of the old lipsticks. She drew a squiggly line beneath the word and waited for Simon to notice her waiting on him.
At first, he was intimidated. Then, he came rushing out. “Grace!” That fool called out. Dummy… She pulled out the stop sign and threw it down before peeling off. She was cackling as she watched him in the rearview throwing a fit. It pleased her to get under his skin. He had gotten under Grace’s. Grace had met a man and thought he cared only to find out he was a liar and just wanted an object to crave… Her hands clenched around the steering wheel and she had flashes of Jax. Flashes of him hurting her. Flashes of him killing Todd. Flashes of them killing him. At that, she smiled. Maybe Simon would never wind up in the Field… but if he didn’t heed her warning, she would have to let him know that she wasn’t much for games. She was more of a doer. And she did terrible things when she felt she had to.
Later on, whenever she checked in with Grace, she didn’t tell her about this incident, but instead, she told her, “I think you should talk to him, but only to tell him how you feel. Tell him the truth. If you want to be with him, tell him that and if you want him gone for good, tell him that. The rest of us will have to fall in line. It’s your life. You get to choose if you want that type of clutter in it. We have no say in the matter.”
She knew that would give Grace the courage that she needed to call him and she knew that Grace didn’t trust him enough to agree to see him again. She knew that if Grace took her advice, she would tell him that it was too late. She hoped so, at least. Grace didn’t confirm whether or not she called him, but she did feel more at peace with the decision knowing that Sunny approved.
.
Seeing him walk into her yoga class was surprising, to Sunny, but she was positive that she didn’t show it. She had told him to stop. It could not have been told to him clearer. She knew that he knew of her, but she didn’t give way that she knew of him right away. After all, they had never officially met, though from the testimonies of Xander, Jalicia, Alexandria and the many confessions of Grace, she felt that she knew him. And she didn’t like him.
Jalicia was known for being the one who was good at puzzles and planning, but Sunny never saw that for her. She was good at thinking of something for everybody to do, sure… but she wasn’t nearly as analytical or calculating as Sunny was. That was why so many of the Apex’s customs came from Sunny’s mind.
The concept of treating their marks like a date, so that they could use coded language when needed and not draw suspicion. She picked up all of the free lipstick samples from the mall that they would use to write, if they needed to. It wasn’t much of an idea at the time she collected them, but it was part of their culture now and the others liked how their handwriting never quite looked the same when written with them, because of the size of the tips. That made them feel like they’d potentially elude handwriting analysts. She coined the terminology of O’s for those who they had their eyes on and X’s for those who were confirmed to be proper marks. She gave Xander so many helpful tips during pillow talk and Grace so much brainstorming fodder during their gab sessions. She WAS the Apex. She was more of Grace’s second than Xander had been, but she didn’t like to brag. She had a huge ego, beneath all of that “can-do” spirit, and her sunny disposition and charming conversation made people underestimate her cutthroat attitude.
Maybe she should have told Grace about threatening his mother. Even though that was THE THING that got him to go away. Maybe she should have followed her first mind and not given in to Xander saying that they needed to cast a net and see if he was still out there, waiting for a sign of Grace to come running back. It was a shaky idea, at best. But, she thought that if she was there to oversee things, it would be okay. If she could make sure that Xander didn’t do something too foolish, it could be a good idea to test the waters.
That was the last time. It was the last time that she follow a man’s lead, even Xander’s to do something that she wasn’t fully committed to.
And now, Grace was letting Xander back in and not her. She was working the Jalicia angle, but that girl called her on the way to the bus station to tell her that she would be gone for a year. The fuck? Everybody was out of control and nothing was within her grasp and nobody was taking action and everybody was shutting her out!
Sunny let out a roar and threw over Xander’s coffee table. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath, closing her eyes to cry. “I am… surrounded…” She opened her eyes and looked around the apartment. So many missing things that Jalicia had taken away. Xander was out with Simon and would be visiting Grace. Alexandria was at work and said she was going to be sleeping at her place tonight, because she didn’t like how Xander was after his lessons with Simon… and she stood in there, all alone, with her own fucked up thoughts.
.
“You know you shouldn’t be with that girl. She’s the one who ruined the Stewards’ original operation. They’d be really mad if they knew that you rock with her like that!” Sunny fussed.
Todd glared up at her and wondered, “And who would tell them that?”
She sighed and folded her arms. “I don’t like it. What does she want anyway? To come ruin this operation too?”
“No. She just checks on me to make sure that I’m okay. She has a spot for me in her camp if I’m ever not okay. I’ll take my gold scarf and hang it out of my window and the next day, we’d meet at the old warehouse and she’d take me in. If the Steward ever sets me off, I have a way out. It's actually pretty cool and makes me feel safe.”
“But, she’s a bad person. She kills people, Todd.”
Todd laughed, “Do you not?”
Technically, she had never killed anyone. She was prone to violence the older she got, but she hadn’t actually killed anybody. She bumped someone out of a window, lightly seasoned some food with poison, sprinkled broken glass into a bubble bath, that kind of thing. She heard that 148 had killed dozens of stewards when she was only 12. She was terrifying and Todd shouldn’t be going on late night raids with her when Steward wasn’t home!
“If she does something to you, I certainly will become a killer.” Todd laughed and gave her a playful shove, but she caught his hands and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m serious, Todd. They don’t have any adults, no real housing, and nobody smart enough to secure good plans. That’s dangerous and I don’t wanna see you hurt because you were running with her.”
“We live with somebody even more dangerous, Neet. Our Steward is one of the monsters that made her what she is. Before they took her away from her family and put her to work, she was just some rich kid. And you. Before he tricked you into coming here, you had a good family and they loved you and took care of you. I ain’t never had a family. Only The Apex. Grace was my family for a while. I love her like I love you. You’d love her too, if you gave her a chance.”
“I won’t give her a chance to get you hurt, that, I can promise you.” He waved her off.
Sunny was sitting on the floor of Xander’s living room, with the room a mess around her, things thrown all over the place when Xander came back home. He was excited at first, but once he saw her, he paused. She was just sitting there, whimpering to herself, “I am surrounded by love… I am surrounded by love…” trying to convince herself. But the truth was that this was the first time she felt so alone since the night that Todd was murdered.
She had come home from a raid with the teenagers and seen his gold scarf in the window. Playing it cool, as she often did, she went to Todd’s room and removed the scarf from the window. Maybe 148 hadn’t seen it. Maybe she could thwart this and talk to Todd before the next day to make sure that he hadn’t made such a stupid, reckless mistake!
“What are you doing?” Jax asked her as she stood at the window, holding Todd’s scarf. “Where is 214?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
He frowned and side eyed her, “He never leaves without that thing around his neck. What did you do to him?”
“I didn’t do anything to him! I would never do anything to him!” She squealed. “It’s that girl, 148. If he’s missing, it’s her who has him!” She sobbed. Was Todd gone? Did he already leave? Had he hung this thing yesterday and she missed it because she was inside the whole day? “He put this in the window to let her know to meet up with him at the old warehouse the next day. I don’t know if he did it today or yesterday. She’s dangerous, right?” She cried.
“Hey… hey. It’s okay.” He wiped away her tears, “We’ll get him. Come on. We’ll go check the warehouse out. We’ll stay until tomorrow, if we have to.” He smiled at her, he smiled right in her face, reassuring her… and that face was replaced by Todd’s. She screamed and covered her own face, shivering.
“Sunny! Sunny, I’m here, okay, Babe? You’re not alone. You’re not there. That’s gone. That’s long gone, but I’m still here. I’m here…” She uncovered her face and looked at Xander’s concerned face. “Hey,” he said, softly.
“Xan.”
“Yes,” he said, relieved that she had come out of it. This usually only happened around Todd’s day, but it was happening a little more ever since Grace shut her out. “I’m here.”
“I… am… surrounded… by… love…” she whispered.
“Yes. Yes, you are…” She leaned on him as she caught her breath.
“We were never supposed to lose anybody else,” she said. “We weren’t supposed to have to lose people when we got off of the streets. We lost Heath. We’ve lost Grace and Jalicia… I’m losing you. I’m losing everyone.”
He shook his head, “Are you kidding? I would have to die first. When have you ever known me to just leave you alone? I’m here. Yeah, others aren’t, but I am and you are surrounded by love as long as I’m here.” She clung to him tightly. Only he and Grace had ever been able to see her this way, until recently when Xandria did. But, she had to relax. She had to just let it be for now.
I am surrounded by love…
20. My Doll
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