#also they look so hot I love their stupid bowler hat

[why-yes-i-am-an-adult]

BTS picture of s2. Beez si definitely speaking to Gabriel here.

[embie-the-buttercup]

Random childhood crushes I had

Bernard from The Santa Clause

I think this one is pretty much self explanatory, we all had a crush on him.

Ian from What a Girl Wants

Still a pretty standard and normal crush. That hair was so cool when I was like 7.

Dapne from Sccoby-Doo

Who am I kidding, I still have a crush on Sarah Michelle Gellar, she's so pretty. Little me had confusing fellings about her in those short dresses.

Velma's friend from Scooby-Doo

This man doesn't even have a name but I was so gone for him. The hair, the eyes, the goatee, the shirt... I still love him. Somebody give a name to my boy. (And I'm still mad that they didn't let him have a kiss with Velma. I know she was supposed to be gay, but if you didn't make her gay, and made her have a crush on Seth Green in the second movie, she at least could've had this beauty of a man...)

Both Robin and Maria from The Secret of Moonacre

Such an underrated movie. I loved Maria, she was so sweet and pretty and my little heart could barely handle the scene where she wakes up with curly hair (I couldn't find a picture.) And let's be honest, everyone who watched this movie had a crush on Robin with his stupid little bowler hat and smudged eyeliner. (Oh so that's where my obsession with men in eyeliner came from...)

Simon from Nanny McPhee

I still have a crush on Thomas Brodie-Sangster. He was my first ever celebrity crush. There used to be a giant poster of Nanny McPhee in the hallway of my elementary school and I used to go to that part of the school just to look at him. I had no other business in that part, I took trips to see him. I still would, tbh.

Audrey from Atlantis: The Lost Empire

She's cool, she's badass, she's pretty, she's witty. I was whipped the moment she came on screen. I loved that she was a strong female character surrounded by men and she was treated as equal. Same goes for Helga (but she was evil so little me drew the line there) and Kida too (I don't know why but I preferred Audrey over her. Maybe because the scene where she's taken by the crystal freaked me out a kid.).

Vinny from Atlantis: The Lost Empire

He's the funniest of them all. There's nothing else neccessary for me to develop a crush.

Cinderella from Cinderell II: Dreams Come True

Let's be clear, Cinderella from the second movie. Not the original, not third with the time travelling AU. This Cinderella was sweet but independent, confident and determined. And she had a great wardrobe. I loved her so much.

Linda from Rio

Specifically this scene. The part where she drives the motorcycle also did things to me at 13 but I was done for when she put on this costume.

Fly from Help! I'm a Fish

Now, we're getting into weird territory. For those of you who haven't seen this movie, for most of the runtime he's a fish. And yet, I had such a big crush on him. He was a hot fish, okay?

Mr Tumnus from The Cronicles of Narnia

I might out myself as a furry now, but I don't even find James McAvoy that attractive without the faun make up. MAybe I had a crush on him because of his personality. Let's just say it was that.

Nico from Rio

I know, I know, he's a bird. But have you seen the part at the party when he says "Party in Ipanema, baby!"? That's hot, okay? I might or might not have written self insert fanfiction about him and myself (as bird of course)...

[waokevale]

Can we get more info on the relationship between light!Janus and dark!Roman?

Alright, I'll try to explain some things.

(I will also make a comic soon about their first real meeting from the past so..)

But let's get things straight (nope)

Roman despite his stereotypical villain-like behavior at first finds that Janus is the one that he has to claim, has to get.

He's basically like Ayano from Yandere Simulator but less murder-y

Roman thinks that Janus is the most beautiful side that there is in the mindscape (Because like from one headcanon that I accepted they have different appearances inside of Thomas' mind.)

He claims that he had never seen such amazing side with such caring and dearing character that he fell in love with the side almost the first minute he met him or even at first sight If I must say.

(He still believes in this stuff and is extra af, so there is no surprise why he would do that)

[Something like fic starts]

Roman meets Janus for the first time after a heated fight with Logan which came to a violent act, in which also Roman lost.

He was basically just walking, not caring about where to go really as much as away from the others.

He then trips and falls until a well-known side notices him and rushes to help him do to his state.

After he realizes someone who's a light side is in front of him, he quickly changes his face-appearance from the sharp teeth and the red eyeliner when he finally looks up.

In front of him stands a side that (Like I said before) was the most beautiful being in the mind palace in his opinion.

Janus has strawberry blonde curly hair with bangs underneath his hat, golden eyes, lots of freckles and slightly tan yet not quite skin. His original outfit in this one has a cream yellow poncho around his shoulder, a golden shirt behind it, same creamy colored bowler hat with a white stripe and a mini-sunflower on it. Light greish-brown pants, high hilled boots and a pair of gloves on his hands.

Roman does blush but lightly at the sight of the side who now tries to help him, which he accepts.

When the said side bandages his wounds he unshamely stares at the figure in front of him. After that he does something pretty stupid in his opinion but he doesn't hesitate.

He snatches the side's hat, the side now flinches back in surprise before giving Roman a questioning look.

Now Roman really does blush as he sees the strawberry-blonde curly hair and bangs falling on the other one's face, covering slightly his golden eyes. His reddish lips now forming into a playful smile.

-"You know....You should go bare-head from the hat more often, you look beautiful without it...Who am I kidding, you look beautiful in general."

Roman said with no hesitation nor regret in his voice. He knew what he was doing, and maybe this side was one that would like receiving compliments.

And he was right, the side's face now turned a deep shade of red as he now tried to process what the other said, hiding his risisng hot face behind his gloved hands.

-"Have I told you that I have never seen such beauty like you around? Probably because I'm from the gloomy part of the mindscape but still, a man can dream right?"

Roman said again.

-"I-I....Y-you think I'm....B-b-beautiful...?"

He side stuttered out, but he clearly knew that these words were true from the other's mouth.

[Janus in this one can detect lies as well, although not every little lie like from the headcanon about the original Janus, he's much more based of self-preservation than Deceit]

-"Of course, why would I lie about this to you? I just wanted you to know.... Also thank you for helping me with the wounds."

Roman said, winking this time.

Janus tried to ignore the clear as the water fact that the other was full-on flirting with him as the fact that he thanked him for the saving.

-"N-no problem. H-how did you get those horrible wounds anyway....?"

-"Mmm...I got into a fight, I lost, the end."

Roman replied and rolled his eyes in dissapointment.

-"O-oh.....With who?"

-"Mmm...No one important really."

That did sounded like a lie in Janus' opinion but he tried to ignore it, not wanting to get too personal with every little detail.

-"Mhmm...C-can I have my hat back though?"

Janus now asked out of blue, changing the uncomfortable subject.

-"Now why would I give it back? I told you, you look amazing without it. Why do you need it so much~?"

Roman said, already getting snarky.

-"Because I...I need it...P-please...."

Janus begged a little, not wanting to be rude, as it successfully worked when he felt the structure of his hat again on his head.

-"Thank you....."

-"Roman, but I'm supposed to be Pride or Creativity 2.0 since my bro-bro is number 1"

Janus now looked a little bit surprised as the side said his name with no hesitation or stress at all.

-"Y-you just told me...? Just like that?"

-"Why would I hide something like that from you, darling?"

-"I-I um.....M-my name is....My name is Janus....I-I'm um.....Thomas' Validity or in other name s-self-preservation...."

-"That's a beautiful as yourself name you got there Jannie, fits you so well...."

Janus almost barely held himself together after all the flirting from the other though he tried to fucus on something else. The fact that this side called himself Creativity and brother of...Remus?

-"W-wait....Remus' your brother?"

-"Duh, yeah. I thought you existed when we were split and sepereted away from each other...~" He said in similar tone yet now more sentimental.

-"Oh....Right...Now I remember. I'm sorry, I didn't know it was really you, Creativity."

-"That's fine, not many people know anyway. Everyone knows me as Pride now."

-"Mhmm...."

-"Anyways, it was wonderful to meet such a side in this horrible day. You lightened up my mood, sweetheart. Although now unfortunately I got to go, don't wanna get my ass kicked for a second time, huh?"

Roman now joked around again as Janus now nodded sadly, piting the fact that the other side could get beaten again.

-"Okay....Bye Roman."

-"Bye, Honey-Jannie"

Roman waved as he now headed out and dissapeated.

_______________________________

Although the weird behavior that Roman had Janus finds him...cunningly handsome.

(Since he's basically a slut for praise from the canon then- Okay I'll shut up about this one, I'm sorry)

Janus gets all lovey flustered when he receives the flirty compliments from the other, even if it's more of trickery.

It's still flirting, just the intentions of claiming worry Janus.

As much as he does have the great crush back for Roman, he doesn't want to leave Virgil or Remus alone, they are his best friends and he can't just say that he's in love with Remus' brother and just leave.

So he stays.

Although Roman doesn't like this part very much, he literally does everything for Janus to finally admit that he's his.

Roman never gives up on his plan.

And neither does Janus on his friends...

Tags:

@child-you-need-sleep

@koalas-in-coffee

@star-crossed-shipper

@temptasiaofdarkness

[instantlyexhaustedowl]

"He was my first love... And only one."

Summary:

Old photos, one old love and two not that old twins. A bit of talking after Weirmaggedon. Stan listening to his bro-bro memories about college lover.

Notes:

Please be kind to me, it's my first fanfic in English and also my first fanfic i have ever posted.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580418

Ford was nostalgically sorting old photoes. Wrinkled paper gently rustled in his weary hands. All those memories, forgotten things with distand feeling of lost love, whole past in his worn out hands. "Ya look sad, bro," Stan's voice broke the silence of Ford's room. His twin was looking at him with curious brown eyes covered with thick glasses. He leaned on the doorframe.

Older twin  smiled sligtly, running his polydactyl hands thru grey hairs. Fingers touched silver stripe that cut thru dark grey hairs. He felt suddenly old and exhausted. "Just... Overthinking past, i guess." He patted spot on the sofa next to himself, showing that companion is welcome.

"Pics?" asked carefully Stanley. His mind was still a bit wobbly, but he remembered nearly everything. Definitely good sign. Stan sheepishly sat next to Ford on the sofa. Old matress swayed under his weight and caused, that Ford leaned a bit agaist Stan's shoulder. "What? Oh, yeah... Pictures. Old ones." said author of the journals with sigh while his hands gently folded photos on the lap. "Hehe, 'm probably not in your colection,...  Hey that one... that guy looks cute," chuckled his brother. He pointed at picture of tall smiling boy, maybe a bit older than twenty-one. Long sand blond hair, big blue eyes brightly shining with happines were hinding partly behind small round glasses. That noodle nerd had two daysies tucked behind his ear, big smile on his face. He looked like hippie college student. "Yeah... Fantastic old friend of mine. Wait! It...He is a man. Why do you think he is cute?" suddenly asked Ford. Stan was ladies man. Why he would think something like that?! Stanley blushed. His eyes wondered over room. Now seemed every piece of furniture like super interesting. "Ehh...No comment?" "No Stanley. We should be more honest with each other. We spend enought of our time pushing each other away. I just want to know why do you think that. No judgement, only curiosity." Old man mumbled something. Then he scooted away from Ford. Scietinst seemed a bit concerned. His brother was always the one who wanted to feel the others presence, but this was different. He was suddenly so shy. Ford like physical contact too but only from persons he loved and liked. Stanley was different- he loved patting peoples shoulder, hugging them even thou they were strangers. His attention was like contact sport. And sometimes it could change into one when that person made him angry. Ford's attention thou. It was more about reading between lines. "Pardon, Lee? I didn't understand." "I said... That i dated men too," sighed Stanley. His fingers were twiching. Eyes were trying to burned thru the floor into the heart of the Earth. He made himself look tiny. Whole body curled into himself. Ford's mouth formed into small silent "oh". "'m sorry... Gonna vanish, don't worry." "Are you crazy, Lee?! No vanishing, no going away." "But..." it was strange. Stanley could brake a montain with bare hands and now... He looked so vulnurable. Like scared teen he once was- standing outside in the middle of warm spring night hoping that Ford could forgive him. "But 'm nothing just familly disapointment. Stupid big idiot and even gay..." "If you say it one more time, i will punch you. Without warning! You are not disapointment! You are my best friend i have ever had and best twin brother i could wish for!" "Poindexer, i am weird old fag!" "Probably not. And that is absolutely horrible word, do not use it, please! You did loved Carla, hm." "And some other girls..." admited Stanley with blush of embarassment. "So you are bisexual. You like both." "'m not picky type," shrugged younger brother with hint of smile. He seemed more comfortable now. Hands put on his knees, eyes still sticked to the ground but he didn't look like persone who wanted to crawl under the rock and stay there for next few milleniums. "I am fag... At least that would Pa called me... If he had knew about it..." "That explains lots of things... And highschool," mumbled Stan scooting back so they shoulders touched again. "Pardon me?!" shrieked Ford. "You were curious only about science. And why girls didn't talk to you! Nothing was about girls, only why they kept ignoring you," explained Stan. Ford blinked few times, his face making pretty good impression of confuesed owl. Stanley was smugly smiling: "I've knew the whole time that you are not straight. 'm glad that Pa never knew about it thou. He would kick ya out too, maybe beat ya...Ya would never make it out unharm, on the streets..." "You were the one that ended up there... I can not forgive myself," two big tears started to roll down. Ford tried to dry them with his sleeve. "Poindexter, let it be. We are here, we are good..." "And gay," added Ford with tiny smile. Roaring of Stan's laught filled the room: "YEAH, we are gay! SO ... Who was that cutie? First crush?" His eyebrows wiggled in devilish way. "First crush, first love and only one. He took my heart without asking and never gave it back..." His brother wrapped arm around his shoulders. "You are old sappy man, Ford." "I know. I... Everything could be so different." "What happened?" asked younger twin. He hated seeing Ford depressed. "First time he went back to his family, after a while he had one too. And later when we found each other... Portal happened." "Sixer! I ... I caused...! Did I....?" Stanford grabbed old photos. He hold them on his chest, close to his fast-beating heart. "It was my fault, we had huge arguement and split up. I should have listened to him, but i was the biggest idiot on this Earth!" Stanley suddenly gasped. "You were dating McGucket?! Old man MCGUCKET?! Oh holy hot Belgian waffles!" "Kids aren't home," snarkyly pointed out Ford still carressing his pictures. "In that case- FUCK!" Small smile crept on scientist's face. "May i tell you a story, Lee?" asked Ford. He looked way younger now. Shy blush on his cheeks, still a bit teary eyes behind glasses. But they were light up with memories. "Yep, ya nerd. I haven't heard romantic novel for a long time! Ok i saw one last night. But i want to hear yar romance," beamed happily Stan and made himsleft comfortable. He was now sprawled on sofa, legs streched infront of him, hands folded on his soft belly. "So...Tell me yar fairytale, bro-bro." "Lee you are so silly," nudged Stan's elbow Ford playfully. "Fine. Long time ago... Ok, i am really getting old and silly. We were college roomates. I liked him first time i saw him. He was true opposite of me. Emotinal, empathic, wonderfully talented. His genius was amazing. After a while we got closer and closer. Fidds was so carring, nearly motherly. You should saw him when i was ill. I phoned dad, that i needed some money... to see a doctor, cause i felt really awful. He... shouted at me- to be a man and sleep it off. So i tried it. And fainthed during one of our classes we had together. Fidds did knew what to do, he took care about me. Got me to our room, helped in bed where i stayed for next week barely knowing about world. I don't remember much, my fever was too high. All seemed like a dream. After i got better i found him sitting on the window frame. His eyes were looking into starry night, silently crying. He was aftraid about me whole week and...He finally snapped... We started dating few days later." Ford had tears on his cheeks while he hold old pictures like precious treasure. His hands were clutching them, only gems he had from his past. Someone knock on the door frame. Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket stood there. He was dressed in jeans, silly shirt with watermelons and drinks on it. He had crazy bowler hat with daisy that kept danggling. Still with beard that could belong to the oldest wizzard in the Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons, but under it was hidden smile. "I swear Stanferd, ma biggest mistake was leaving ya. And i fool made it twice!" Stanley looked at them with squint eyes trying to seem like he fall asleep. "Stop foolin' us, ya'r great conman, but that's horrible try," laugh Fidds hopping on the sofa from Ford's free side. He covered one six-fingered hand with his small one. They fitted perfectly, like two pieces of puzzles. Maybe their hands were a bit cold, but hearts were still aflame with passion and love. "I guess now i've to keep an eye on two nerds," sighed Stanley. "Have fun ya two, i am gonna go to... Don't know. Want a coffee?" "Yeah we will join you," smiled Ford when Fiddleford hugged his waist. "Yej, coffee is great idea pals!" "Gentlemen, we will have gayffee party!" clasped his big hands Stanley and went to the kitchen, chuckling because he liked that new horrible pun. Ford froze a bit and then shouted: "Do not tell this term in front of Mable! Or we all end up covered in rainbow glitters! I don't mind them but i certainly don't like to drink them with my coffee!" "WHO SAID SOMETHING ABOUT RAINBOW GLITTEEEEEERS???????!" "Mabel, calm down! Honey, put that bottle of rainbow disaster down!"

[i-love-sad-cowboys]

Love Letters (Javier x Reader)

So, just to make things clear, this is the first fic I’ve written in a LONG time. A couple years to be more specific. I know it’s lacking a lot of elements (proper grammar, more detail, etc, etc.) But I wanted to give writing another go. I understand that I most likely won’t get a lot of notes, so feedback might be nonexistent, but if you do want to share what I could do better, please let me know!! This is also pretty short, but it was the best I could do as I’m still getting back into the swing of things.

Dedicated to @notursdutch I hope you like it, I know it’s crappy but you’ve inspired me to write, and I wanted to say thank you for giving me the courage to do so ❤️

Warnings: None

———————————————————————

You wrote away at the paper beneath you frantically, almost as if your work would be snatched away from you at any moment. Effortlessly, you transferred your thoughts to the letter, keeping your penmanship as neat as possible, even at the speed in which you were writing at. After what felt like hours, you set down the fountain pen beside the paper and allowed your sore hand to rest from writing. You looked back down to your work and slowly reread it, not wanting to overlook any mistakes. Satisfied, you fold the yellow paper in half and carefully tuck it into the white envelope. Once sealed, you raise it to your lips and press a small kiss to it for good luck.

You slide the letter into your coat before exiting your tent, feeling a bundle of nervousness and excitement. You scanned over the camp in an attempt to find the one person you wanted to see the most, but to no avail. You did a double take, making sure to search around the perimeter of the camp as well. Sure enough, you found Javier on guard duty.

Your stomach did summer-salts when he spotted you. He offered you a grin and beckoned you over. You felt like your feet were rooted to the ground, but eventually forced yourself to move towards him. As you walked over, you rehearsed how you planned on giving him the letter.

For the past 3 months, you’ve been anonymously writing him letters, often putting them in places he could easily spot but others wouldn’t. You’d defaulted to placing them under his pillow, near his guitar, or even in his bowler hat when he set it down. It was almost routine at this point, putting his letter in a place he would find, then waiting close by to see his reaction. To your delight, he always read them with a look of endearment before gingerly folding them and tucking them away. Each time, you felt your heart flutter and the heat rise to your cheeks, encouraging you to continue to write the love letters. Up until today. Today, you decided, would be different. You could not contain your feelings for him any longer and needed to let him know what he meant to you. Sure you were scared, but what other choice did you have? If you waited too long, you might lose your chance with him, but if he rejected you, you didn’t know what you’d do.

You approached him with a warm smile giving a little wave.

“Hey, Javier. I see you got stuck with guard duty today.” You attempted to start up a conversation, but your voice came out shaky. You sucked in a sharp breath of air.

“Hola, hermosa.” He gave you another adorable smile. “It seems so, but I wouldn’t mind a bit of company from you.” You swore you melted right there. You hated how such simple words could have such an effect on you; you were basically putty in his hands.

You cleared you throat before shyly reaching into your coat for the letter.

“Uh, about that. I-I wanted to give you something actually.” He looked at you with curiosity, one of his eyebrows quirked. You quickly pulled out the letter and thrust it in his direction, averting your eyes from him. “Please, read it.” He gently took the letter from your shaking hands and opened the envelope carefully. What was a few minutes felt like an eternity, you flickered your eyes back up to him. He looked from the letter to you, his expression unreadable.

“Chiquita, have you been the one secretly giving me these letters?” His tone was also unreadable. Timidly, you nod your head, unable to form a sentence. He groans and runs a hand over his face. You start to panic as he prepares his next words.

“Soy un idiota.” He shakes his head. You understood enough Spanish to know that idiota meant idiot, and he was probably laughing at you. You felt your eyes fill with tears. Of course he was disappointed it was you, he was probably expecting it to be one of the other girls in camp. You back away from him and turn on your heels, looking to be anywhere but here. You hear him shout for you, but you don’t listen and quickly make your way to the other side of camp. If he wanted to talk to you, he’d have to wait till his shift was over.

You watched the sun set over the horizon, the pinks and oranges filling the sky. You sighed, admiring the beautiful display of nature before wiping the last of your tears away. You couldn’t help but think of how stupid you were to reveal yourself to him. What were you thinking? It was obviously a mistake from the beginning. You should have never even started writing him letters.

Suddenly, you feel a warm hand place itself on your shoulder. You flinch and look behind you to see none other than Javier staring back at you. You felt the tears coming back as you took in a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself.

“Listen, Javier.” You felt the fresh tears now running down your cheek. “I’m sorry I gave you those letters, I understand that you don’t like me that way, I won’t let it happen again.” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again. You were surprised when he gently cleared your face from tears and tilted your head to look at him. His eyes softened.

“Amor, I’m the one who should be sorry.” You gave him a confused look, prompting him to continue. “I reacted poorly, yes? I am an idiot, but only for not realizing that you were the one writing them to me.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Did this mean he liked you?

“So, you’re not disappointed that it was me?” Your voice was small.

“Never.” He leaned in closer to you. “I’m glad it was you.” He whispered, his hot breath on your skin, you took the chance to softly press your lips to his. He snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into him. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you were positive you looked like a mess, but right now everything was perfect.

[persephone-of-hell]

Backfired plan - Dimeshipping Fanfic

Fandom: Duckverse, Comicverse Characters: Scrooge McDuck, Magica De Spell, J.D. Rockerduck Ship: Dimeshipping (Scrooge/Magica) Words: 4744 - One Shot

Disclaimers: - Sorry if I made some mistakes; English is not my first language and I haven’t any beta. - The name of the ship is an idea of the lovely @monkey-li! - Implied sexual themes and some hotter situations. Nsfw-ish. Notes: - @monkey-li‘s fanfic Dance with me  gave me a little inspiration for this fic, so thank you so much, darling! - I used Rockerduck as Scrooge’s business rival because I am more used to him instead of Glomgold. I am italian, and I’ve read so many stories with him, so I thought I could be able to write him better. Even if I probably went a little OC with him. - Magica’s outfit is inspired by this amazing photo of Sophia Loren

“Mh… yes. Tell me again how did you manage to come here—not in Naples, not at the base of Mount Vesuvius, but right next to my house.” “Well, that’s pretty obvious, Magica. I used a private Jet to come to the airport of Naples Capodichino, then I took an helicopter, a private one as well, of course, to arrive right here.” “Oh, of course. How caring of you, making all this noise and almost making me ruin one of my potions. And I have to tell you, you even managed to be really subtle. I guess not even a person noticed all of this.” The witch rolled her eyes, gazing to Ratface, whose expression was as annoyed as hers. She really didn’t like visits. Like, really. She hated them. She even put a spell on her family, so they couldn’t come to her house whenever they wanted! And she was a witch, living on a damn volcano. No one ever dared to come near her own home –just that rival of hers, but that was pretty obvious.- So, she couldn’t really believe that John Davison Rockerduck was actually there, in her little living room, while his assistant-butler-factotum Lusky was still in the helicopter, swirling around the Mount, waiting for his boss to call him back. “Come on, Miss De Spell, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know how to contact you… it’s not like you have Duckbook or stuff like that.” The billionaire took of his hat, making a curtsy, a little apologetic expression on his face. Well, of course she had not stuff  like that. She was a witch, obscure magic, mysterious powers! How was that so hard to understand? Magica rolled her eyes, again, mumbling something, as she made a little movement with her hand, reluctantly inviting him to take a sit. Her house was not that big, and not that fancy… but she had a little sofa, one armchair, and stuff like that. After all, she hated visits… but sometimes she enjoyed inviting Madame Mim to her house. But only when she wanted. No surprise stuff. He put his bowler hat back on his head, sitting nicely on the armchair, leaving the sofa to her. At least he knew how to behave in front of a lady. But, for the moment, she stayed up, looking at him with a pouting expression. “You do have a nice house, Miss De Spell… a little old, maybe, but.—“ “Cut to the chase, Rockerduck. What do you want from me?” “Oh, come on, I was just starting a little conversation, dear Magica. And you can call me John.” “Ah-ah, yeah, and you can call me Miss De Spell, Rockerduck. I did not give you such liberties.” She waved her long black hair with a hand, her expression still stiff and annoyed. So stubborn. John couldn’t help himself but chuckling a bit. What a woman! It was so clear why she was such a rival for Scrooge McDuck. It’s not like he knew her really well, but the few times he talked to her, and that precise moment too, made him realize how alike the Italian witch and the Scottish billionaire really were. Even if one of them wasn’t a dashing, mysterious source of dark powers. Lovely. Actually, Rockerduck was a little intimidating by her, even if he looked so relaxed. He perfectly knew that she was able to turn him in a toad in a matter of seconds, if her mood was not the best, but he really needed her help. And, also, he admired her. The feeling was not quite the same, for Magica. Actually, she didn’t really like Scrooge’s other rivals. The Beagle Boys? Too stupid, such idiotic peasants. Flintheart Glomgold? Too evil, too black-hearted, even for her. That was something. And John Davison Rockerduck? He was rich, he had style and he knew how to be a gentlemen, but he wasn’t worth the spats of Scrooge. He didn’t fight for his wealth, he just inherited everything from his father, and he loved to show how rich he was. Ok, maybe Scrooge was even too cheap, but the other one was total opposite. “I’m sorry, Miss De Spell. Never wanted to upset you.” “You did just coming by my house. So, go ahead, before I get really angry. You don’t want to see that.” “Ok, ok, I got it. I’ll go straight to the point. You see, Mag—Miss De Spell, I decided to invest a lot of money on a new project, I want to extend my company in the fashion industry. I managed to buy a famous brand, stealing it right off the nose of Scrooge himself. The price offered by the brand was too high, he wasted time and I bought it before him.” That made the sorceress actually laugh a bit. Poor, poor Scroogie. “So, next week I’ll be hosting a party at my own mansion, celebrating the affair and, of course, Scrooge is invited.” “That’s really fascinating, Rockerduck, but I still don’t know how I fit in all of this.” She was still annoyed, but now she was a little more curious. It seemed like Rockerduck had a plan in mind. “Scrooge, at the beginning, was really angry, and didn’t want to attend the party… but I invited representatives of other brands as well. He decided to take the occasion, to try making affairs with them. And there’s where you are needed. You see, I really don’t want Scrooge to come to agreement with any of those brands, so I need a distraction. And who can distract Scrooge McDuck better than you, Miss?” Magica liked compliments. She smiled a bit, waving her hair again. “So, you want me to go to the party, and trying to steal Scrooge’s Number One Dime? To distract me? And what I gain, by helping you?” “That’s where you are wrong, Miss. We are going to trick Scrooge, because he will think that I’m going to make the brands despise him, and you are going to steal his dime. We are going to switch parts.” And, at that point, Magica’s smile widened. “So, I am going to make Scrooge look absolutely despicable in front of the representatives, so they’ll never make affairs with him, while you are going to steal the Dime for me. Am I right?” “Absolutely right, Miss De Spell.” It could actually work. Scrooge was going to be caught off guard. But. There was a but. What did Rockerduck actually know about Scrooge’s Number One Dime? If he knew its power, he would have never given her that little coin. “How do I know that you are not thinking of using and then betraying me, Rockerduck?” Her eyes were pure fire. Menacing fire. Rockerduck actually didn’t know so much about the reason why she wanted the Dime so much. He just knew she needed it for a powerful spell… he didn’t  know anything about the Mida’s Touch. Whatever was the reason of such an obsession, it was not wise for him, who didn’t know Magica well enough to fight her, to betray her. “I will not get in the way of such a powerful sorceress. But, if you don’t manage to ruin Scrooge’s affairs, I’ll stop helping you and I won’t give you the Dime.” “And, of course, if you don’t get the Dime, I’ll be sure that those brands will be so happy to come to agreements with Scrooge.” “I think that’s only fair.” “So, have we got a deal… John?” Magica’s voice was now soft, calm, low. She blinked twice, slowly. Better having his partner in crime in her grasp… with every way possible. And she knew how to enchant a man, even without real magic. Even if she didn’t like the man in question. “Of course, Miss De Spell.” “You can call me Magica.”

  Magica arrived in Duckburg the exact day of the party. She didn’t want to waste too much time. She decided to leave Ratface home, so he kept an eye on the Vesuvius. Magica didn’t want any of Rockerduck’s men to search infos about the Dime while she was away. It was really nice to see that Rockerduck handled her with kid gloves. He had booked (and payed) a suite for her in one of the finest hotels in the city, and he had also provided her with different jewels, make up and dresses for the party, so it was up to her to choose how her attire. Actually, she could make a dress appear with magic… but why not enjoying that luxurious treatment? She drank a flute of the champagne that had been left in her room, and then she started to prepare herself for the evening. After all, it was an exclusive event, and she had to stand out in order to talk to the representatives… and also to distract Scrooge. Yes, she thought that even another distraction would come in handy. She needed to look stunning. Well, more than usual. It was easy to seduce a man like John, or every other man in the world… but Scrooge McDuck was a totally different play. He was so stubborn, even a little misogynist, and it had always been so hard to catch his attention in that way, at least without using love potions. Magica chuckled a bit at the thought, taking off her black dress and entering the bathtub, enjoying the warm water on her skin. Seducing Scrooge… was it really necessary? Had she gone completely crazy? Maybe a little. Just a little. But she loved to fight with Scrooge, in every possible way, other than the Dime affair. Everything regarding him was a challenge… and she loved challenges so, so much. Of course she knew what the main goal of the evening was… but she could also have a little more fun. Distracting Scrooge McDuck from business and from the Number One Dime making him look at her like a woman. Magica could imagine those piercing blue eyes observing her, looking at her with need, with desire. Just the thought made her shiver a bit… or was just the hot water? She would never admit that to herself, at least out loud… but maybe, just maybe, she found herself being attracted by Scrooge McDuck. Just maybe, just a little. He was dashing, for his age, he had a really strong personality, he was always a challenge and, in a strange, twisted way, he was the only man that had ever been so long in her life. Even if he was her nemesis. The sorceress finished washing her body and her hair, as she sighed a bit, putting on the bathrobe. “Concentrati, Magica. Non sei una ragazzina. (Focus, Magica. You are not a little girl.)” She opened the closet, looking at the dresses that the third richest duck in the world had provided her. And one, only one really got her attention.

  “Mpf, that little imitation of a billionaire! Stealing the contract with the brand right off my nose!” Scrooge was upset. Well, he was a little more than upset. He could not stand loosing against that worth-nothing Rockerduck. “Do not worry, Sir. I am sure you will make great affairs tonight, Mr. McDuck.” Duckworth replied, driving the limo and taking his boss to the party at Rockerduck’s penthouse. “Of course I will, Duckworth. That rookie will regret inviting me and all those representative in the same house!” Scrooge almost yelled, as he took his Number One Dime off his pocket, looking at it. He couldn’t fail himself, his family, the memories that the dime carried, as he did. He made a mistake, unfortunately, but he was going to repair that mistake. He was going to sign so many contract, that evening, that Rockerduck could only eat his bowler hat in despair. Scrooge finally arrived at the other billionaire’s place, adjusting his tuxedo, old but still very classy, and entered the luxurious door, as Lusky controlled his invitation. As if was possible that Rockerduck had not invited him to show off in front of his face. In the penthouse, he could not see the other duck yet. Strange. He thought he was waiting just for him, mocking him and just making him want to punch that damn face. But maybe his absence was for the good. Scrooge immediately started to search for the representative of the most famous fashion brands… and the one from Goosace got his attention. She was a goose, with short silver hair, and a long black dress. Scrooge wore his best smile, approaching the lady. “Ma’am, such an honor to talk the representative of such a prestigious fashion house. I’m Scrooge McDuck, nice to meet you.”

The two of them chatted a little; Scrooge had learned how to master the art of conversation, even if he wasn’t the most talkative man in the world. But he had to be charming in order to continue his business. Scrooge was going to touch the “affair” argument, when the attention of the lady was caught by something. Or someone. “Oh, such a beautiful lady…!” She said, smiling, and then, only then, Scrooge turned his head, and his jaw almost drop. What in hell…! All the guests were staring at Rockerduck, who finally honored the party with his own presence. …Actually, they were not exactly looking at him. He was walking hand in hand with a woman, who was the center of everyone’s attention. She wore a beautiful red dress, red as a rose, red as the flames, a dress with a style from the 50s. Her waist was small, like she was a perfect hourglass, and the cleavage was… well, impressive. Not vulgar, but it enhanced the bosom of the lady. And Scrooge had to shake his head, because he was staring. She wore a necklace made of diamonds, paired with two big hearings. Her lips were red, her eyes made even more seductive thanks to black eye-pencil and mascara. And that hair, that shiny, raven hair styled exactly like they were in the 50s, matching the dress. For an instant, he could not recognize her. That woman… that mysterious woman at the side of John, that beautiful woman everybody was looking at, was Magica De Spell. “Excuse me…” he said fast to the representative, not even realizing he was a little rude, leaving without looking in her eyes, and he approached the couple. Couple? He didn’t know why, but the thought made him nervous. “Scrooge, old sports! Nice to see you here… I’d introduce you to the lady, but I think you already know each other.” “Scroogie darling, it’s strange to see you outside your bin. And in a tuxedo.” The witch giggled a bit, blinking at him. “You… how… why? How could you invite this vile witch?” “Scrooge, don’t be rude. You see, our dear Magica is my date for tonight. Don’t you think that this party needs the most beautiful gem to really shine?” John was talking with a lot of pride in his voice, and he slid his right hand on the witch’s hip. And. She. Allowed. That. And not only that! She smiled at him in a flirty way, as she touched his shoulder. And why that scene was making him so angry? “Oh, well, congratulations.” That word sounded like poison. Magica arched an eyebrow. Scrooge McDuck actually looked… jealous. Could it be? How? He had never thought of her that way. He had never been jealous, even when he saw her self-declared boyfriend, Rosolio. And she had not even started to seduce him, then flirting back with Rockerduck… why was he jealous? No. It was just her imagination. Of course, he was angry because two of his bitterest rivals were in the same room, together. Scrooge was not stupid… probably he was suspecting something. And he actually was. He really was suspecting something; if the two of them had become partner in crime, he could not let his guard down. Not even for a second. But the thought of them being not only partner in crime… yes, it was making him angry. Furious. But why? Was because Magica looked so damn ravishing that night? Or because, for the first time, he saw her flirting with someone else? Maybe because that someone else was John? “Do you think I’m dumb? Of course you two together are nothing but trouble. I’ll keep my eye on you.” And that said, he left, searching in the crowd for another representative to talk to. “It’s time to get in action.” “Couldn’t agree more.” “Oh, and John?” “Yes, my dear?” “Slide your hand a little further and I will strangle you. Got it?”

 “This is going nowhere.” John said, crossing his arms. “Oh, really? I didn’t notice, you idiot.” Oh, Magica was mad. Really mad. Not even in the mood to flirt with John. Why? Well, because their task was harder than they had thought. They really tried to approach him, but he was impossible to distract him. It seemed like he didn’t care about the combined attack, not even thinking of what the goal of each of them was. He just ignored them. “That old duck… my plan was perfect! You are not putting enough effort, Magica!” “Me? You are the one who doesn’t even know where to search for the dime!” The plan was actually good. In theory. But they didn’t considered two things. One. They didn’t know so well the other’s ambit. Two. They were absolutely sure that Scrooge was going to be anxious. But he was a great business man, an incredible adventurer, he knew danger very well… and he seemed already distracted. But not from the business, but from them. It was like something was keeping him from giving them any kind of attention. …Could that really be…? “John. Dance with me.” “What? Do you think that’s the right time?” “Trust me. Dance with me and then let me do my thing.” Rockerduck was not sure about that. He didn’t like not being in control of the situation… but the sorceress really looked sure of her plan, whatever it was. “…Let’s try this.” “And you have to dance with me like you mean it. Passion, you know? I don’t think that will be so hard for you, it’s not like you are fighting so hard not to put your hands on me.”

 Things were actually going great, for Scrooge. He did manage to mind his own business, being sure that the dime was always in his pocket. Perfect. He could not believe it… but that jealousy that got him made him so angry with himself that he absolutely wanted to stay away from the two of them. And the fact that they had slit up for all the evening was the proof that they were just teaming up. Whatever was their real plan, that turned against them. Everything was going great. Except when all the crowd remained weirdly still, as a tango music started. And he saw them. The two of them were dancing, and what a dance. It was really passionate, actually. Never thought that the rookie could have such fire in himself… at least not so much to match Magica’s one. After all she was a witch and an Italian woman, flames were part of her being. And as she moved, with her beautiful red dress showing maybe too much of her long legs, she really looked like fire. She had a seductive smirk on her face, and she was actually her who was leading the dance, with her perfect moves and her sensual body. But it wasn’t like John was not enjoying the situation, on the contrary. The desire he had in his eyes was so evident, his hands touching her hips, arms, sometimes her legs like he just wanted to rip off every piece of fabric from her. Magica had never let anyone touching her like this. Scrooge had never seen her attracted to a man… but that time she really seemed involved in that dance. She really seemed to enjoy Rockerduck’s touch. Was that even possible, for a woman, to look so seductive in a dance? His own attraction to her made him stay, looking at her like she was really a gem, the most beautiful gem he had ever seen. But then… then the tango ended. She pressed herself to his body, surrounding his waist with one leg, her breast attached to his chest. At that moment, Scrooge could not handle the fury, the jealousy. He was tense, his fist tight, shaking, almost bleeding from his palms. That witch. Damn her, damn all the women in the world. He turned back, going away. Magica looked at him. It was done.

  Everyone was enjoying the party, in the penthouse. Not Scrooge. He was in the terrace, alone, mumbling. “Scroogie darling… don’t you like the party?” That voice. That seductive, ravishing voice, that so much hated voice. “What do you want, you witch?” Magica chuckled a bit. It was like he was going to say a word really similar to “witch”, but with a “b” at the beginning. But it was ok. Scrooge was angry, mad, furious. Not focused on business, nor the dime. “It seems like my dance really pissed you off. Jealous?” Yes. And he didn’t even know why. “No, I just find women who press themselves on men like that really disgusting.” Well, she was expecting that. But, somehow… it hurt. “You know, it’s not 1900 anymore. If I want to press myself on a man, I am fully entitled to do it.” Magica put her own hands on her hips, rolling her eyes a little. “You know… I’d love to have a real dance.” “…What?” Good. “John is fine… but I expected even more passion. Oh, I don’t even know why I am telling you this. It’s not like you could have that passion, you old bird… probably your spine will break if you even try to do something like that.” Oh no, she didn’t. “I bet you had never had that passion. Never.” She was lying, of course. She knew he of course had that passion. She knew that he still had that passion, she knew that, if he wanted, he could make her shake under his touch… but she had to provoke him, hurting every little bit of his pride. And she actually managed to do that. In a matter of seconds, so fast that she gasped, he pressed himself on her, hand on her back, the other on her cheek. He started to move, making her swirl, dancing with her. His touch was angry, rough, breathtaking. And the two of them were just dancing. Magica had to focus. She responded to that passion, her mouth so close to his ear. “Not bad, Scroogie.” She laughed a bit, caressing his chest, her legs on his, her hands running through his hair. There was no music, but their fast heartbeat gave them rhythm. They were two flames, chained to each other, fighting in that sensual dance. She was so close… now she was so, so close. He was distracted, he was completely into the dance. Magica had just to caress his body better, feeling were the Dime was, and then she had to take it. She could forget John, Scrooge, everything. So close, just a little more daring touch… And then she found herself on the wall, Scrooge’s arms trapping her, like a cage. Magica finally saw those eyes. Those piercing blue eyes looking at her, so possessive, full of desire. He was looking at her… like she really was a woman. Not a witch, not a rival. A woman. She felt naked, even if she was completely dressed. Still.  “Tell me, Magica. Do you really like Rockerduck?” “…What?” “Answer me, Magica.” She was so close…  “Why do you care?” So close… like his blue eyes. “Just answer me.” His hands were so close. “I…” His lips. So, so close. “…No…” Scrooge chuckled. He felt… relieved. He hoped so. She didn’t like that rookie. She wasn’t even attracted to him. “It was just a scene, right? You were pretending. The two of you had a plan, right?” One of his hands went to her hair, ruining the style, making them fall down her shoulders. Magica shivered, her mouth open. The dime… she had to take the dime… “Yes… we were partner in crime, just for tonight… but I hated his touch on me. I didn’t like it. I wanted your touch. I still want it.” …Oh, damn. Her attack backfired. She realized it when Scrooge started to laugh. Had he been pretending? It was just an act? “Well, well, lass. Even that was part of your plan?” “Let me go, Scrooge.” “Seducing everyone, John, me… to get the dime. I bet you were never really his partner in crime.” “Scrooge.” “And now you look just like a little school girl.” “LET ME GO!” Magica screamed, rage in her eyes, as she tried to punch him right in the face. But he grasped her wrist. “You didn’t let me finish, Magica. Actually, you succeed. You really seduced me… but probably you have already done that, without you knowing that. Without me knowing that. You are strong, passionate. Yes, you are the strongest woman I have ever known. You are… amazing. You made me fall for you head to toe, it’s useless hiding that, now.” Magica didn’t even remember what was her original plan. Why she was there. Because she felt so happy, she had never felt so happy. She smiled, then she laughed. But it was a warm laugh, an happy one. She was almost in tears, tears of happiness. “Just kiss me, you old man.” And he did. He really did. It was the most amazing kiss they had ever given or received, maybe because of that night, maybe because of their years of fighting, but that kiss was everything. No dime, no fight, no Duckburg, no party… there were just the two of them. They had the same passion, the same need to claim the other as their own. A little moan escaped Magica’s lips, and Scrooge couldn’t help but caressing her skin, on her neck, down to the zip of her dress. He broke the kiss, and the witch made a noise of frustration. “He gave you this dress, right?” He was again jealous. Angry. Magica took off  herself the hearings and the necklace, then she nodded. “I know you want to take that off, Scroogie. Just do it.” “As you wish, witch.” He unzipped her dress, feeling her soft skin, touching every part of her skin as he uncovered it. His touch really was rough, so good. “You are going to be the death of me, Magica.” “Just don’t die before you’ve taken me…” She smiled in a wicked way, then she kissed him again, hard, letting the dress fall down to her feet, revealing a black lace lingerie, as she almost ripped his jacket while she took that off. It was so amazing… just the two of them… “Magica? Scrooge?!” …Oh, well. They forgot that they were at a party. With Rockerduck probably searching for them… and he actually found them. “Perfect time, rookie. Really.” “What the--- what are you doing?” Scrooge rolled his eyes, covering Magica with his own body. He didn’t want him to look at her, especially in that condition. “What do you think we are doing?” “That’s--- Magica! We had a plan! What were you thinking? And really, with the old man?” “Oh, please, Rockerduck. You are not worth Scrooge’s spats. Now, be a good puppet… and go back to the party.” The sorceress snapped her fingers, mumbling some latin words, and John started to walk, against his will, going back inside and locking the window behind him. “Well… I think the mood went off.” Scrooge said, as he blushed a bit. Ah, she really was beautiful and strong… but it was not the time or the place anymore for such things… “I’m afraid you are right…” Magica was blushing as well, and she took her dress, wearing that again. Then she stopped. “Even if…” “Even if…?” “You know, John booked a really nice suite for me, here in Duckburg. You know, I might really need a little help packing. If you know what I mean…”

[galadrieljones]

zero: chapter 9

Fandom: Horizon: Zero Dawn | Pairing: Aloy x Nil | Rating: M (Mature)

Content: Angst, Existential Angst, Touch-Starved, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol, First Love, Slow Burn, Violence, Love Triangles, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love

Masterpost | AO3

Heavy

They slept beside one another. It was only a few hours before the sun got hot and high. When she woke up, he was no longer pressed around her, like when they had fallen asleep. The tent was too warm. But he was close, on his back with one hand resting on his chest. He breathed even, heavy and deep. The black hair curled back off his face and around his ear. He hadn’t woken once that morning, no shaking or mumbling. His mind seemed all quiet. She was still in her clothes from the night before. After the kiss, they just went into the tent to go to sleep. As she drifted, he lie behind her and told her about Carja parades in winter, and how they would be happening very soon, maybe even right now. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. He seemed to be separating the pieces of her hair—or something—with his fingers. She couldn’t tell exactly. Some of this was new, but Nil touching her hair wasn’t new. He had braided it before.

What do they celebrate? she said, her head resting on the inside of his arm. The Carja parades.

It’s more an invocation, said Nil. She could sense that his eyes were closed, even just as he spoke. A prayer to the sun, mostly in the night.

Is that all the Carja do? she said, kidding. Pray to the sun?

I once heard the Nora spend all their time praying to a mountain. Are we so different?

Aloy appreciated this. Though she had never once personally prayed to a mountain.

When Nil woke up, they went about their morning routine in a kind of normalcy. It was time to go. Aloy had never gone back to the woods to refresh her traps. It was time to get out of this unlucky bandit country. They would come back for the rest of them when they had more time. Nil took down the tent while Aloy buried the fire. They decided to leave the bodies, like a warning. She went over to Dawn, who had grown still in the morning. Sickle had used to do a similar thing. It was like some form of recharging. They’d make a whirring noise and the light in their face would grow dim, and they’d be very still. When Aloy approached, Dawn stirred, and her light came back to its full capacity. She seemed to wake up. Aloy patted her on the flank and gave her an apple that she had saved from breakfast. Nil worked quickly, and the air was muggy, so he had taken off his shirt. The sunlight came through the canopy in heavy, oppressive bars. For winter, it sure was hot in this part of the Sundom. She watched him drinking water from a canteen, and then he handed it to her and went back to work packing in the tent. He strapped it all firmly to Dawn on the loin, and then he patted her again like he had the night before and stood beside her, eating a green pear. He had tied his hair into tight knot at the top of his neck. He was taking a break.

Aloy was fully dressed for the road by now. She had begun to feel anxious about their kiss, but Nil didn’t seem anxious. He must have sensed her staring at him at some point, because he smirked at her, still chewing his pear.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing,” he said, still smirking. He wiped some of the juice from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” said Aloy.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” said Nil.

“Because,” she said. She got red and frustrated, but it was stupid. It made her laugh. “I have no idea.”

They took turns riding Dawn back to the Maizelands. It was still mostly quiet in the terrain, but it had only taken a single night for new machine herds to move into the area. There were Glinthawks, too, in the wake of Nil’s initial hunt, and this seemed to agitate Dawn, who was a little more sensitive to her surroundings than Sickle had ever been. The revelation was strange for Aloy. She hadn’t realized machines could develop personalities, but Dawn had been living in a much more stressful terrain than Sickle, and maybe that had something to do with it. They hid in the outcroppings of a huge mesa somewhere along the road and picked off the Glinthawks one by one. Their absence made Dawn much calmer, and they got moving again.

“It’s okay,” Aloy said to Dawn, whispering into her mechanical ear. “Nobody likes Glinthawks. It’s okay.”

With the path cleared, they were able to make it back to the civilized parts of the Sundom by nightfall. Nil wanted to camp by the river, but Aloy was tired of the outdoors. She was used to certain creature comforts, even as an outcast, and even as she did not always feel that she deserved them. She let herself fall prey to her desires for cottages and warm food every once in a while, and tonight, that was what she wanted. So she convinced him that they should spend one night inside the Maizelands. They needed a break from the wild, and though he seemed to agree with her sentiment, he was tense. He did not like treading this close to Avad, and he did not like taking up civilized quarters in his kingdom. The tension between them was palpable and filled with anger, and she could see it in his face, the way he tightened his jaw as he nodded in consent, and she wished she could know more—about them, about what had happened to make them this way, but now was not the time.

“It’s not Meridian,” said Aloy as they approached the gate. “And you’ve come into the Maizelands before, to go to the tavern, haven’t you? It won’t be so bad, Nil. I promise, and if it is I'll take all the blame.”

“There's nothing blame anyone for,” he said. He seemed to unclench as the time went by. It was passing. “You’re right. It's okay.”

They tied up Dawn in one of the little farms outside the city walls. There were chickens and boar and some donkeys in a makeshift stable. Some people gave her a strange look as she did it, but they all seemed to know Aloy in these parts by now, and that she could override machines for her own purposes, and they weren’t brave enough to confront her over their anxieties about having a machine on the premises. She paid the man at the makeshift stable for a one-night’s stay.

“She eats apples and grass,” she said. “She's just like anything else. Okay?”

The man wore a bowler hat and had a craggy face. He was chewing on his corncob pipe. He nodded in a trustworthy manner and said, “I got it.”

After leaving Dawn, Aloy wanted to wash her hair in the river before going inside. She thought she must smell like shit.

“You smell good,” said Nil, shrugging.

Aloy didn’t believe him.

She rolled her pants up past the knee and waded into the water. She dipped her head in, and Nil sat down on the riverbank to wait. He ran some water through his own hair and seemed relieved by this. He was growing calmer. The sun was down, and it was twilight and cooling off considerably. Nil had removed his armor back at the farm and was just back to his trousers and boots and a linen shirt put together with very fine, colorful stitching. The Carja always had beautiful clothes. She wondered if he had learned the technique from his mother, who was dead, or if it was something he had taught himself. Either way, she knew him well enough to know that he had not purchased the garment from a Carjan artisan. He would have made it with his own hands.

“Do you think Dawn will be okay?” said Aloy. She was standing in the river, shaking her hair out. Nil had prepared a plain cotton towel for her. He handed it over, and she wrapped it around her head.

“Yes,” said Nil. “Stablemen are different than civilians. They like animals better than people.”

“Dawn isn’t an animal,” said Aloy. “She’s a machine.”

“Yeah, but she acts like an animal. It’s all the same once you get past the metal. Either way, nobody is going to mess with you, Aloy. You can count on that.” He smiled. Then, he studied her.

She became very suddenly self-conscious. “What’s wrong?” she said.

“That’s a good look for you,” he said, pointing to the towel on her head.

“What?”

She saw him smirking again and shoved him once in the shoulder. But she was flattered.

“Shut up, Nil.”

He laughed.

Inside the Royal Maizelands, it was just like Nil had said. They were getting ready for a night parades. There were people standing around, waiting, and a path had been cleared through the main part of the settlement. There were women dressed in elaborate costumes, and children with their faces painted like the sun and stars. Even in twilight, they loved their god. And it was fortuitous for Aloy. Nobody noticed her, like they so often did. Nobody stopped her or tried to sell her things or to ask her if she had seen their bumbling husband or idiotic hunting partner while out on her various travels. She was so sick of people knowing who she was. It just got annoying. But that night, nobody cared who she was. They were preparing for their Carjan festivities. It seemed that some outlanders had come to join the celebration. A band with a lute, a harp, and several wind instruments played on a low platform nearby. The melodies were sweet and upbeat. The merchants had filled little jars with lit wicks in candle wax and hung them from clotheslines, strung up in the trees and all across the paths and walkways and entrances to the marketplace. As they walked through the display, Aloy looked up at Nil to try and measure the proper reaction. He seemed content and like he both noticed but also did not care about the differences in the atmosphere. Sometimes, he belonged to her, and sometimes, he was a total stranger. She wanted to know his whole life and everything in it.

When they got to the tavern where Brissa worked, it was full but not bursting. Aloy feared all the rooms would be already rented upstairs. But Nil told her that it was mostly locals in the Maizelands that night. “There will be some outlanders,” said Nil, “but not all of them.”

Aloy hoped that this was true. There was a small group of Oseram travelers in the bar, drinking out of huge flagons, but they weren’t causing any trouble. Aloy tried to remember the last time she had seen another Nora face. It had been so long ago. She tried not to miss that place. It had done her no favors in her short, stupid life.

They went up to the counter where Brissa leaned, shining up a bar glass. She smiled to see them both. She mostly confirmed Nil’s prediction and said that she had one room to rent. She said she had been holding it for a friend from the big city but that her friend had not been able to make it. “It’s all yours,” said Brissa. “Free of charge.”

“What?” said Aloy. “Noway. I’m paying.”

“Please,” said Brissa, waving her off. “I neither want nor need your money.”

“Accept it,” said Nil to Aloy. “It is a great honor to be offered a gift like this by a Carja merchant.”

“Are you bullshitting me?” said Aloy.

“Yes,” said Nil. “But why does it matter?”

Brissa was laughing. She wore a pretty headdress that night. She had a piercing in her nose in the shape of an elephant. “You should listen to Brother Nil,” she said. “He is a wise soul.”

“That, I am,” said Nil. He sat down at the bar with a sarcastic sort of confidence. Aloy gave into their joint theatrical nature. “Give us wine, barkeep,” he said.

“Right away,” said Brissa. She gave Aloy a long, knowing look after that, and then she went away for the bottle. Aloy felt perpetually confused by these sorts of looks. She thought she must have missed out on something in her youth. Of course, she had missed out on a lot of things, one of those things being a mother. But she tried to remember Rost, if anything at all. She had seem him conversing with women at the outcast markets. The outcast markets were these little shit markets for outcast artisans and farmers to come and sell to one another. Rost made beautiful weaponry. He made many trades at the markets for food and supplies, and he did so in a quiet confidence. He did not speak much, but when he did, he seemed to know what to say, and people liked him. Women liked him. He never showed them any real sort of interest beyond gratitude, but he was attentive. Aloy knew that Rost had once been married, but that his wife had died, and that was enough or him. He would not marry again. At the markets, she watched him closely anyway. He always told Aloy she had a kind of natural wit that endeared her to all the people at the market, and it would carry her a long way in life. Aloy still didn’t know what this was. She often felt unsure of herself in social situations. But she liked people. She liked their sounds and their warmth and their company. They made her feel strong.

Brissa served their wine in pretty glasses with twisty stems. It was a warm, sweet yellow wine made of grapes grown in a nearby vineyard. Aloy liked it very much. It reminded her of the winters she’d used to know. Nil was amused by its sweet taste and though he finished the glass, he asked for something a little stronger to help wash it down. She poured him a little brown liquor, and then she served them dinner on heavy porcelain plates. White fish with grains and a light salad with citrus fruits. Aloy enjoyed the food and the whole room and her conversation with Nil. He spoke easy and told stories like he always did, so good at talking it could make you forget all about the world outside. Brissa was a calming influence on them both. She talked about her wedding on the Daybrink not two years before. “I wore a dress that went all the way down past my feet, and it had a train that was ten feet long,” she said. Aloy didn’t understand the extravagance, but she was enchanted by the idea and desperately longed to see the dress. Brissa told her that next time Aloy was in the Maizelands, she would take her back to where she lived near the docks with her husband, and show it to her. She said Aloy could even try it on if she wanted, but Aloy demurred.

After they were finished, Nil got up from the bar, very tired seeming. It had been a long day, and he was ready to go upstairs. Aloy didn’t want to go quite yet, and this made him smile. It was in his nature to leave her be, and he said he would try to wait up, but she told him it was okay. They said goodnight, and Brissa went down the bar a little bit to help a young woman uncork her bottle of wine. There was a moment. Nil seemed to bite down and swallow his pride, or at least that was what it looked like to Aloy. He set his hand on her shoulder in a reassuring way. It was firm but gentle, like everything with Nil, and then he bent slowly and kissed her on the temple, soft, and he stayed there for a moment, and she thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t. He smiled, and he released her, and then he went upstairs.

She felt very high up and far away and right inside the sun’s warmth, sipping her golden wine alone at the bar. But Aloy’s instinct was always to make these things into some flight of fancy, as this was safer, so she cleared her throat as if to speak, and then she had to make her heart quit pounding and shut the fuck up, so she took a long drink, polishing off the glass.

“You seem to know him,” said Brissa, coming back now. She had a towel over her shoulder, and she leaned on her elbows, close so that they could speak privately.

“I do,” said Aloy. “Better now than I did before, last time we talked.”

“He is careful with you,” said Brissa, sort of lost in the moment. “He considers your needs. And you got him to spend the night inside the village? That is a triumph. You are good together.”

“Yeah,” said Aloy. “I guess.”

“What’s the matter?” said Brissa, sensing something had gone off just then, like a tilt in the earth’s access. Somewhere nearby, there was uproarious laughter. The lute continued to play its upbeat serenade to the moon, which held the sun's place in the night.

“We’ve only kissed,” said Aloy. The moment she said it, she knew that it was a big part of what had been on her mind. She was paralyzed in some ways. She didn’t know what came next. She gazed down into her empty glass. “I don’t really think we’re…together? Or, we haven’t—I mean, we haven’t.”

"You haven't what?”

“You know,” said Aloy.

“Oh,” said Brissa, surprised. She smiled and took the towel off her shoulder and set it down in a pile on the counter. “So what?”

Aloy gave her a look. “So what?”

“Everything comes at its own pace. That part of your relationship will express itself when the time is right.”

“But when is it?” said Aloy. She suddenly seemed to need Brissa’s advice very badly. She felt so fucking stupid sometimes, shifting around in her seat like a little kid. “I mean. When is it right? You seem to know about this stuff. Is it right now?”

“It is right when you know it is right.”

“But that’s confusing,” said Aloy, putting her head in her hands. She pushed the hair off her face and blinked hard. She felt suddenly like she might cry. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve never done it. I mean—I know the basic procedure. But I’ve never thought about this before. Not with anyone. I’ve never had to.”

“Aloy,” said Brissa. She placed her hand on Aloy’s hand. Then she picked up the bottle from under the counter and poured her another glass—this one was smaller than the last. She put the bottle away and continued, smiling very sisterly. “You worry too much.”

“Why doesn’t he just…I don’t know? Make a move?”

This made Brissa laugh. “He is hesitant, because he doesn’t think he deserves you, and he’s still trying to figure out why you haven’t left yet.”

“I leave all the time.”

“You know what I mean, Aloy. Maybe you leave, but you have your reasons. What’s important, is that you keep coming back.”

“But what does that mean?”

“You just have to use your instincts,” she said.

Aloy laughed this off. She took a drink of her wine. “Yeah, my instincts,” she said. “If only I were as confident with Nil as I am with killing machines.”

“You are a woman of your heart,” said Brissa, out of nowhere. She took her hand off of Aloy’s hand, and she placed it over Aloy’s heart. “I sense this about you. You have romance living inside you. The romance of the earth and the skies, of metal. The way you keep and name your machine companions, and how you decorate the braids in your hair with thread and beads. Men are much simpler than these things. They may seem smart and strong on the outside, but they are brute creatures within, and sometimes that is all they are used to and so all they have come to expect. But you offer more. I see it, and he offers you something, too. He makes life seem…safe. He is a fixture, a constant. The world is funny and carefree with Nil. It’s just all full of stories. Like the good times don’t have to end, and they don't. You’ll know when you know. The time will come, if it is meant to be, and when it does, you will not hesitate to make your move, Aloy. Trust me. I’m always right about stuff like this.” She smiled and took back her hand. She was leaning far over the bar and had her arms folded beneath her.

Aloy looked down at a moth that had dropped into her wine. It had got caught and flapped around in a panic. She sighed and helped it out with her pinky finger, and then she set it free into the tavern atmosphere. It was fine. It flew away. She looked at Brissa who had become dreamy. “Thank you,” she said, her heart full with gratitude and feeling calm now. “I don’t have a lot of people to talk to about this. You’re a big help.”

Brissa smiled. “It’s what I’m here for,” she said. And then a man called her name from down the bar, and she went to pour him another glass of brandy.

Aloy went upstairs a little while later. She thought she’d find Nil asleep, but he was very much awake, lying on his back with his head propped up on a few pillows, reading a heavy book. He was happy to see her, but they went about their nightly routines. There were two beds with pretty blue silk covers. It was a nice room with a window, and Nil had opened the window so that a cool breeze blew in. The room was lit with many candles, and it had bookshelves full of books with titles Aloy had never heard of before. She sat down on the bed opposite of Nil’s and began to undo her braids. She was sleepy and a little tipsy, but she felt relieved by her conversation with Brissa and glad that she had stayed at the bar a little longer. She liked nights like this—the ones that went on just a little too long. She liked to enjoy the evening and be around people like the sort that lived in the Maizelands. Even though they were still Carja men and women, they were simpler than the nobles of Meridian. It did not annoy her the way life annoyed her in the Palace of the Sun. Nobody fussed over her, and she didn’t have to be under guard or followed around by servants and spies and handmaidens.

But then, a change. Just as she was about to remove her focus for the night, she heard a flicker come from the inside. It buzzed in her ear and then static, clicking into place. The curtains rustled at the window. Outside, you could hear all the people still, way out there on the promenade like ghosts.

Aloy.

It was Sylens. She sat up straight real fast and she took out her focus, and she set it down on the bedspread like a little, poisonous jewel, and she stared at it. She really stared. It was so small. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed, as it was not time to cry. “Fuck,” she said. She felt tiny and insignificant, like a dumb pebble. She picked up her knees and hugged them to her chest and closed her eyes.

It was a couple minutes. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Nil sitting there, with his feet on the floor, watching her. He had closed his book and set it neatly on the nightstand. His hair was knotted off his face, and he was concerned. “What was that about?” he said.

She took a big breath and shook her head, making a big show of trying to smile. She took off her boots one by one and sat across from him, hugging her arms to her chest. She studied the frostbite near her elbow and how it was almost healed. She felt her hands against her own body, and how clean they were, and she stopped smiling. “It was nothing.”

“Aloy.”

“I have to go,” she said, nodding to herself. “That’s all that was. A reminder that I have to go.”

“Now?” he said.

“No,” said Aloy, looking at him, trying to be soft. She didn’t mean that. She shook her head and said it again. “No, of course not.” He was waiting, listening, staring deep into her with his familiar focus. "Not tonight."

“Tomorrow,” he said.

“If I wait any longer, Nil, things are going to get...worse."

He nodded, understanding and secure. She did not need to explain herself to him. The breeze blew in again. This time, it rattled the shutters a little bit. Nil paid it no interest. He became much more serious after this. They had never really talked about what she was going through, but she knew he had gleaned a great deal on his own. He knew that she was dealing with the Shadow Carja and Helis, and she had mentioned the mystery surrounding the woman she thought might be her mother, and Sylens, though only in passing, and this was enough to sober him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You don’t have to be sorry Aloy. Just answer one question.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Outside, there were the sounds of fireworks. They were far away in the distance, but you could hear the people ooh-ing and ah-ing. The question had surprised Aloy. It shouldn’t have. He always asked this. Every time she left him in those recent months, every time they parted in the wild, he always asked if she needed his help, and he was always earnest in his intent. But this time, it was different. They weren’t in the wild. They were in a safe, clean place with soft lighting, and outside, you could hear the music and the laughter and the parades and fireworks, representing their happiness in the world. The invocation of the sun.

She did not need his help. She knew this, but whether she needed his help was not his question. Did she want him to come with her? That was the question. But Aloy didn’t see this. She couldn’t see past what she already knew. She just saw him, and how he was always worried, but for some reason, it just now seemed to feel true. That he did care for her, and she cared for him—enough to ask Brissa the questions she’d asked her tonight. Aloy was guarded in these moments. It wasn’t selfishness. It was self-preservation. She did not realize how much the bad things in her life had come to affect her. When she had watched Atral die, she had a moment of clarity that drove her back to Nil out of some reckless abandon. It was their routine. But now, in the Maizelands, that abandon was clouded with more uncertainty, mixed up with her feelings for Nil, which were so real, they had transcended her ability to articulate them in any way that made sense. Brissa had made her feel better for a moment, like the future was simple and like it would come right to her if she just let it, but that was back in the tavern, and back in the tavern, Aloy’s life, was simple, just like Brissa's, and up here, it was simple, too, but out there, it wasn’t simple. She stared at him.

If he came with, something bad could happen, she thought. If something happened to him, she would have no one to return to. Nothing to look forward to. What would become of her?

Outside the curtained window, outside the walls of their tent when they were in it, that is where her troubles lived. Alone. She had decided this long ago. He couldn’t go there with her. He had to stay, where the air was clean and clear and the nights were gold.

“No,” she said, trying to smile again. “I’ll be okay.”

He studied her, like he was reading her mind. Maybe he was. He seemed to have that ability, and she had lost her will to second guess. His brow furrowed, waiting, but when she said no more, he knew the matter was settled, so he nodded once, jaw firm, and he conceded. “All right,” he said. “Will you at least tell me where you’re going?”

“Yes,” said Aloy. This, she could do. She could make a plan. Plans were good. They made sense. She told him where she was going. She made him a map, on paper. This small reassurance comforted Nil, though he did not say much else after that.

They put out the candles, all except for one in a brass holder by the door. They were in their separate beds. The time was not right. Aloy stayed awake for a while, staring past him as he slept. She stared out the curtained window, thinking about her life and how certain she was that she had to face it on her own. She had wanted to go to Brissa’s house by the harbor and look at her wedding dress, but this seemed foolish in hindsight, a stupid dream.

She finally fell asleep when her brain went numb and she couldn’t take it anymore. It was a couple of hours before dawn. Meanwhile, downstairs, Brissa stayed up all night in the tavern, serving the revelers brandy and cigars and her own charming wisdom from the bottom of her heart. Back at the stables, Dawn had gone into her whirring rest mode, just like always, and the craggy-faced stableman had come out of his little house in the middle of the night just to study her. But like Nil had said back at the river, he was only curious. He did not wish to disturb. He was a man of nature. The parties in the village did not quiet completely until morning, but Aloy would sleep through this, when finally the sunrise culminated all of their prayers and brought its relief to the Maizelands. It touched everywhere and everything in all the land, making it new. Even in her restlessness, the sun spoke to her through her dreams. It spoke to him, too, and it kept him calm. Nil saw her again just like before, standing in the river, holding that basket full of fruit, laughing like it was so easy. He knew that’s not what it was. Easy. This dream was some kind of stupid teenager reverie, but the old mind plays tricks. He knew that, too, and he let it play on, because he knew the difference. His mind held onto her like something good to keep the darkness behind the horizon in his dreams. The truth is, he already loved her.

[xtrahxtrah]

Elrow were coming back to London town for a whole weekend of debauchery with their 2 insane themes ‘From Lost To The River’ and ‘Singer Morning’. The former was running at Village Underground on Friday/Saturday evening and Sunday daytime. The latter was debuting in the UK at Tobacco Docks on Saturday daytime. What is less known about these themes is that the Spanish translation for Singer Morning, Canta Mañana is someone who is really out going and doesn’t care about what other people think. Similarly, From Lost To The River, Perdido Asta El Rio is a Spanish saying for someone who has a do it and whatever goes kind of attitude. This was clearly an assignment that was made for me. Elrow describes itself as an immersive experience which you can break down into 4 parts; music, performance, decoration and crowd. It’s pivotal to them that everything clicks together and the crowd gets involved as much as possible. The inflatables, performers and decor aren’t just gimmicks as you might find at other parties. They are truly there to make the crowd feel that they are part of the production. Imagine going to a West End show in London and the actors and actresses inviting you to take part in the theatrical performance. This is what separates Elrow from other event companies in the marketplace and why I couldn’t wait to embark on the mayhem myself!

Friday night I got home from work and changed for the weekend; leopard skin onesie, multicoloured wig, flower necklace and Moschino jacket. I was buzzing as I had missed out on tickets 5 months earlier (which sold out in 45 minutes), seen videos of their shows at Row 14, Studio 338 and Space Ibiza and only heard praise from all corners of the internet. I arrived at Village Underground with my partner in dance floor crime at around midnight. First people we bumped into were a couple wearing leopard skin jackets and pikachu rucksacks. We bonded over the leopardyness and jumped into the queue with them. It’s unfortunate the queue was so long as we were missing Lord Leopard on the decks but hey, sometimes you just can’t catch em all haha. Once inside we found ourselves chucked straight into the Elrow pan per se with performers enacting Droopy The Dog (carrying a doobie) and Rowgelia the mascot chicken dancing enthusiastically around the place. I’m not exaggerating when I say that every inch of ceiling space was covered up with cartoon props of some manner from fried eggs to laughing walnuts to 1 tonne weights. The stage was emblazoned with a lit up Rowshow sign and flanked by a giant Rowlex (see what they did there). Getting started on the decks were Waze & Odyssey. It goes without saying that the W&O Street Track honchos know how to throw it down. With recent release Down With Tha on Eats Everthing’s imprint Edible fresh in my mind I knew they would get the crowd pumping and they delivered as expected; 2 hours of straight up attitude that would get even the most hard nosed raver bouncing. The tech house went in heavily with the percussion with the odd bit of acid mixed in there for good measure. I was certainly a happy leopard by the end of the first night. I didn’t stay right to the end of Toni Varga’s closing set. I may have been a slightly tipsy leopard but not a stupid one. I had another 3 Elrow events to go. Pace was the word of the night and I got home for a good 2 hour nap before Tobacco Docks the next day.

Saturday morning I woke up at around 10am to a beautiful morning. The sun was shining which is always a good way to start rave day. I had never been to Tobacco Docks and it was certainly one venue I was looking to knock off the bucket list. I arrived bright and early knowing that Jacky would be starting proceedings. I had no idea what to expect walking into Tobacco Docks at 12:30pm except that it would be huge, accommodating 6000 heads from all over the UK. The first thing I noticed upon entry was that all the staff were wearing vibrantly red wigs. There was also a stand central to the open air venue housing all sorts of inflatables from unicorn lidos to goofy looking strawberries to mischievous monkeys. I had a little gander to get my bearings and decided to explore the floor above. It was here that the 2 main rooms hosting shows would be; one adorned with the Singer Morning theme in all its glory whilst the other had the Elrow City theme throughout. There was also an area where one could win drinks, tokens and candy floss by playing various games; sumo wrestling, spin the wheel, score a goal etc. On my way to the VIP bar (to get my first rum and coke of many) I stumbled onto the glitter stand called Starlight Boutique Facepaint. Now I’ve had my fair share of paints and glitter but these ladies did a particularly cracking number on me. Not surprised that they’re heading to Junction 2, Glastonbury, Secret Garden Party and DC10 to name just a few this Summer. Post-vajazzling and drink ready I decided to warm up in the Singer Morning room to Jacky and The Menendez Brothers. The Singer Morning room was filling up. Like a warm bath before bubbles.

Being a fanboy of Hot Creations I decided to head down to the ground floor at 1:15pm where the third main room ie carpark was located. It wasn’t really a room being honest, it was more like long dark tunnel, and a fucking sick one at that. As I walked closer to the light I found myself looking at at a giant jukebox with a selection of Elrow releases displayed at the bottom whilst Patrick Topping and Andres Campo were having at it in the centre. That Hot Creation sound was booming from the box and the crowd couldn’t have been happier getting their groove on. After a good hour of raving I headed out for a much needed cool down and smoke, grabbed myself a rum and ginger beer and went backstage to see if I could find a couple of artists. Ended up bumping into Jamal Edwards and co. from SBTV again. Last saw him when Solardo were down at Egg a couple months previously...mandem likes to rave ya’know. Jacky, The Menendez Brothers and Andres Campo had finished working the crowd and were taking full advantage of downtime. The Elrow residents De La Swing, Toni Varga and Marc Maya were buzzing around as well. In the artists area was an old school double decker bus servicing everyone with alcoholic beverages. Never seen one so alive and busy in my entire life haha.

By this point the Data Transmission videographers Nathan Babalogbon and Felix Morey-Burrows had arrived. I showed them round the site and we got to work starting first with Richy Ahmed in the Singer Morning room. Richy delivered as one would expect; a tropical tech house thunderstorm for 2 hours straight. The room was heaving and the crowd pumping. Me and fellow Data Transmission resident Archie B went straight in and got involved. Of particular note were the performers. God knows how the ones on stilts got through the human carpet that was the Singer Morning room at that point but revellers were treated to a wash down; shower caps on, loafers ready and cream going everywhere haha. Flanking the DJ booth were windows filled with various performers. I seem to remember seeing mermaids, a crazy cat lady, Mario and Luigi, what looked like Rick James strumming away on a guitar and a baby carrying a giant lollipop but maybe I was imagining it. A true visual treat for the masses. By now I was a cooked rave sardine and I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that the giant ice blasts that pushed out what must have been hundreds and thousands of confetti pieces was nothing short of orgasmic haha. After sweating it out I went back to the double decker bus to catch a couple of ice cold ciders. Seeing a woman doing a downward facing dog on the way didn’t surprise me much. In fact nothing really surprises me much these days, especially after you’ve experienced Elrow.

When I saw man of the moment Eats Everything arrive I got back on it. Videographers at the ready we caught some great footage of the big man himself tearing it up in the Singer Morning room. It was my 5th time seeing him live and I have to say he has never slipped in all those times. He still keeps that energy and fire burning so if you ever get the chance to see the magic for yourself just do it. It was now reaching mid-point of the Elrow weekend and a pit stop was needed. Following on from Eats Everything’s incredible closing set I went with The Menendez Brothers and co. to their old school garage night called Eastbound at The Book Club in Shoreditch. Lucky for me this was right next to Village Underground so it was meant to be...in my mind at least haha. Matt Jam Lamont seemed to be having a ball on the decks.  

After a short breather sonically from the tech house I marched on to the second night of Elrow at Village Underground. I arrived at around midnight and the first thing I saw was a woman with purple hair, flossing a blue tassel skirt and pink yoshi rucksack. This was followed closely by a guy with a full on glitter beard, sparkly red bowler hat and yellow feather scarf. Loved the effort. In fact that goes for the entire weekend. Big up all the people who went all out with their get ups. On entry Rob James was taking over from Mele on the decks and lighting it up. I was holding rock steady on stage with Juan Arnau the guy who conceived the whole Elrow concept. His family are a legacy starting both Monegros Desert Festival and one of the world’s most iconical clubs Florida 135 in Fraga, Spain. True party entrepreneurs and connoisseurs. BBC Radio 1 resident DJ Monki also happened to be in attendance. We had a chat but I can’t remember exactly about what. In fact I don’t remember a great deal past this point. Lucky for me my snapchat skills are strong like the Jedi and it seems that I stayed right to the end of De La Swing’s closing set like a true soldier. The vibes that night in my opinion were the best out of all three Elrow events at Village Underground. The true party people from Tobacco Docks kept the energy going all night long. I have no recollection of the journey home but it seems from my snap that I eventually got into bed at 7am.

A brief 3 hour power snooze later I woke up in time for work on Sunday. You read that correctly. I had a shift at this pub I work at part-time from 11am-5pm. God knows how I got through the busy Sunday shift but as soon as I finished I rushed home, got back into my leopard costume and made my way to Village Underground for the third and final instalment of Elrow at Village Underground. I frogmarched in with Data Transmission videographer Nathan Babalogbon at 7:15pm. A psychedelic rabbit, wearing purple spandex covered in pink elephants, with a show stopping dragon tattoo on her back was the most eye-catching view I saw on arrival. Marc Maya and Gonçalo were on the decks closing off the Elrow weekend with panache. Backstage we managed to grab 10 minutes with Victor De La Serna, the bookings director for Elrow. We conducted an interview with him as shown below. Give it a watch to see what Elrow is all about straight from the horse’s mouth.

The 36 hours of Elrow was thoroughly exhausting but jheez was it worth it. One for the record and memory books for sure. The organisers pulled out all the stops on production. Never have I seen so much attention paid to the details which resulted in an aesthetically pleasing and flawless run from start to finish. The music program was superb and the DJs certainly kept the energy high right until the very end. I often ask myself do I have a life or am I just living. Needless to say if you ain’t living what’s the fucking point. Next up Elrow Comes To London Town on August 19th at Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. For more information → http://elrowtownlondon.com/about/

Thanks for reading all. Hope to see you on the dance floor soon! ;-)