#but romi's one has me so heartbroken

[amlovelies]

how does your story end?

I was tagged by @queerdetectiveblue (thank you 💜) to take this quiz for my ocs. I’m tagging (no pressure) @nerdferatum @doulyeah @griffin-wood @winterkeys @roxaroux @plotbunny-bundle and @wayhavenots edit: I’m adding more tags because I’m a menace and I want to see answers @gingerbreton @kittlesandbugs @allens-chocolate-dreams @impossible-rat-babies @danielsullivan

Cynthia basri (fhr): contented: accomplished, you rest, knowing you have earned this long sleep. 

vesper bui (fhr): in a betrayal: you trusted, and now you must pay the price... your final word is a half-whispered question, "why?" 

anwyn torlar (dnd): unfinished: cut down too soon, questions unanswered, desires unfulfilled... what a tragedy you are. 

jay nordsen (tnp): in a betrayal: you trusted, and now you must pay the price... your final word is a half-whispered question, "why?"

curtis becker (fhr): in a betrayal: you trusted, and now you must pay the price... your final word is a half-whispered question, "why?"

romi brown (fhr): frightened, alone: you are not ready to go. you plead, and cry, but the reaper will not hear you. 

james williams (fhr): contented: accomplished, you rest, knowing you have earned this long sleep.

emma langford (twc): unfinished: cut down too soon, questions unanswered, desires unfulfilled... what a tragedy you are.

[romildagaumont]

*cracks knuckles* alright, here we go! Welcome to the messed up life of Romilda Gaumont. She is Wynonna Earp meets Hadestown’s Eurydice. A cynical, snarky, half-drunk Enforcer who has been raised her whole life to think that non-powered people need to be protected from powered people. Unbeknownst to her, she is a mutant with the power of power negation.

Wanna learn more? Click below the cut (and mind the trigger warnings!)!

TW: Alcohol, Death, PTSD

[OC] It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s ROMILDA GAUMONT, a CIVILIAN! SHE is 29 years old and look an awful lot like MELANIE SCROFANO. I hear that they work as an ENFORCER/SHIELD agent. Rumor has it they were FOR the Accords and ARE registered under the new laws. I wonder what they’ll find with their new beginning!

History: (WIP)

Richard Gaumont never trusted powered people. He saw them as a danger to everyone around them, and believed that non-powered people needed to be able to protect themselves. He was also a single father to two daughters, who he raised in his beliefs and taught them exactly that: to be able to fight. He taught them that they ought to protect others like themselves from people who sought to use their powers for harm. Romilda was the elder of the girls, and carried a lot of the weight of this. 

Her father’s outspoken beliefs did not go unnoticed, and gained him many enemies. It only cemented his teachings to his girls when, not long after Romilda’s sixteenth birthday, some of those enemies attacked their home. Romilda was powerless to save her father, but she did manage to protect her sister and herself. Unknown to her, this is when her powers first manifested. Seeing her father’s body triggered them and she subconsciously created a radius of power negation around the house. Powerless, and having got what they came for anyway, the attackers fled, and left the girls behind. Romi didn’t know what made them leave, but she didn’t have a chance to care. She was alone, with only her baby sister.

Not long after this Romilda spent years moving around. She was lost, and often took off on long trips. During this time, she met someone who she felt, for the first time in almost forever, that she could lean on and trust. This turned out to be a mistake, leaving Romilda in danger and heartbroken in the aftermath. After that, she moved alone, not trusting anyone or letting them get too close. More of her nights were spent inebriated than sober. In the end, it was her sister who found her. She pulled Romilda out of own personal hell and shoved her in the right direction. That right direction became SHIELD. Protecting people. It felt right, and she had a lot of the skills and smarts for the job. Then New York happened. Sokovia. By then even without her upbringing the Accords sounded like a good idea. A safer idea.

But her beliefs were only cemented when an accident caused by a mutant killed her baby sister. There wasn’t even a body to bury. Romilda had never felt so alone in the world, nor so hopeless, but she knew that she had to keep going. When the role of Enforcers came up, Romilda signed up immediately. She wasn’t cruel or power-seeking like some of the Enforcers she saw. What she was was effective and firm in her beliefs. Powers were dangerous, and they needed oversight.

TL;DR:

Romilda is an Enforcer/SHIELD agent who has been brought up her whole life to believe powers are dangerous and need oversight, only cemented by the loss of her father (to an intentional attack) and her sister (to an accident). She is a loner, snarky, and not very good at letting anyone get close to her at all.

Powers/Abilities:

Power Negation: the ability to negate or cancel the superpowers of others. Romilda has a passive ability to block powers from being used on her. This prevents psychic abilities (such as telepathy or clairvoyance) from being used on her. She also has the ability to extend this negation further from her, but this takes conscious effort. This extension can either take the form of “defensive” (giving others defensive negation like her passive abilities) or “offensive” (cutting off others’ powers). HOWEVER, she is as of now unaware of her abilities.

Hand-to-Hand Combat

Weapons Training

Wanted/Suggested Connections:

Gone, I’m Gone: In the last few years, any time Romilda gets too close to someone, she’s likely to self-sabotage in anticipation that the other will leave. MUSE A was someone she cared about, and who cared about her in return (romantically or platonically), and that scared her, so she skipped town.

Better Off Alone: This is a betrayal that broke Romilda’s heart and helped to ensure she would push others away for protection. Eight to ten years ago, MUSE B and Romilda were very close. Romilda felt like she could trust them, lean on them. Until they--for reasons unknown to Romilda--left her in danger and feeling betrayed.

Aphrodite Made Me Do It!: Flings! One night stands! FWB! No strings attached! Romilda may not be good at romantic relationships or being emotionally vulnerable, but she does like to have a good time. Open to any gender. Can be an old thing, recent, current, or even future!

Work colleagues from SHIELD

Other Enforcers she’s worked with/partnered with. Maybe they clash over disagreements, maybe they work together like they were made for it!

Enemies: Romilda’s father was very outspoken about his anti-powers/anti-mutant views, and campaigned publicly. This brought many enemies to him, and now Romilda is all that remains of her father’s legacy. OR Romilda’s work as an Enforcer may have made her a couple enemies of her own

[starfaring-princelotor]

Best Friends

Summary: Lotor and his best friend discover the beginning of something new.

Pairings: Lotor x F!Reader

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I kindly ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. Thank you. ★

Warnings: Threats?

Future Sight___Historic Significance___No Time Like The Present___Thinking Ahead___Best Friends

Romelle’s eyes skimmed over the page, re-reading over the instructions carefully while she poured the rest of the contents of her cauldron down the drain. She let it sit out too long and now it was practically black, gooey sludge. Oh, the smell was unbearable, it nearly made her throw up dinner she had with Allura.

Speaking of, the Princess knocked on the bathroom door.

“Romie? Is everything okay?” bless her heart, she was concerned about her well-being.

Well, waking up a few hours before dawn to use the restroom would be a cause for worry. Romelle rinsed the cauldron with hot water, making sure to leave no evidence behind. Quickly, her wet hands closed the book then she shoved the pot in the corner, opting to let it dry for the rest of the day.

Once Romelle opened the door to see sleepy faced Allura, she couldn’t help but smile softly at her.

“Yes, I just had to clean that stinking cauldron,” with a gentle hand, she guided Allura back to bed, “And take care of a few...things.”

You weren’t doing too well.

Not at all. Grumpy wasn’t the right word to describe it. Sad? Maybe. Heartbroken? Yes. Yes, that was the feeling. Like you lost a close friend. It was hard not to think this way, think that your relationship with Lotor was coming to an abrupt end. He just needed time. That’s what he said, right? Time and space? But, damn it all, why did it hurt to be sitting on the sidelines like this?

Lotor never mentioned this before, how cold he can actually be. Maybe you really weren’t paying attention to him? Or maybe he was just too closed off to truly be comfortable with you? Maybe it was both of your faults? The turmoil of arguments in your head made you heavily sigh in defeat, an act that did not go unheard by the prefect sitting besides you.

“You know, food tastes better when you actually eat it,” Shiro bit off his own piece of bread, eyes watching you with slight mirth behind them, “And when it’s warm, too.”

You groaned and slumped in your seat, leaving the spoon under the smeared mashed potatoes, “I’m not hungry.”

Or at least, this meal wasn’t as enjoyable without your purple friend. The mindless conversation, critiquing each other’s eating habits, even sharing from the same bowl was fun. It seemed so...perfect, didn’t it? What changed? You wracked your brain for anything that could point you in the right direction, but alas, nothing popped up. Ah, there you go again, thinking too much.

“I miss Lotor.”

“The gremlin has to come out of his room sometime,” he tried to be lighthearted about it, but it didn’t even crack a smile from you, “There’s a potion for that, y’know. Changing into a gremlin. Interesting what you read ahead in the books.”

“There’s a potion for everything,” you counted off your fingers, “Toe fungus, pimples, that one where you can change your fingers into cat heads.”

“I heard there was one that can make you glow like a light bulb.”

Shiro would’ve said some cheesy punchline, something like “so you can brighten up his day,” but your despondent face told him that it would go in one ear and out the other. He rubbed his neck in uncertainty, not quite sure how to console a friend of a friend. There was an underlying reason he came to talk to you, though. Maybe one he thinks you might be able to help him with.

“Hey, mind if I...ask you something a bit personal?” he lowered his voice a bit.

A nod, a sad, sad look glazing over your eyes.

“Have you noticed anything...strange about Lotor? I mean, stranger than this. He usually isn’t this cold.”

You crossed your arms and buried your head in them, “I don’t think I really knew him at all.”

Shiro nodded solemnly, “If it’s any consolation, these past few months have been the most I’ve seen him smile.”

You peeked at him from underneath your hair, unsure if you heard him right. Yes, you, too, were happiest with him the last couple months, smiling and laughing and learning little bits about each other here and there. Like friends do. Like best friends do. Eyes bore into the now cold dinner in front of you as if it would somehow give you all the answers to your questions.

“I think that counts for something, don’t you?” Shiro laid a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Yes, you thought, it has to count for something.

Lotor’s fever was back, tenfold. To the public, it would look like he was just a little too warm with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Deep down, he was burning. It was barely tolerable as he knew this sickness will eventually pass. Just like his last one. The only odd thing about this was that fevers usually...do not come back so soon. He was on his way to the medical ward to get another potion from the nurse.

He needed more sleep. That was probably it, what with all his tossing and turning at night.

“Lotor?”

Oh no. Not who he wanted to talk to right now.

“Allura.”

Where was Madam…? Oh. Right. The one day she was out visiting family was the one day he needed help. Just his luck. No matter, things are in the past between them. At least, that’s how he saw it. Judging by the odd defensive look hidden behind her eyes, the Princess still felt a little suspicious around him. He wasn’t so sure if he liked that scrutinizing, almost acidic, gaze she gave him.

“What can I help you with?” she asked, straight to business, which he appreciated.

“It seems my fever has returned. I am in need of two more snowdrop potions.”

She opened a cabinet that had shelves with labeled vials, many of them varying in color, “Have you had any other symptoms? Headaches, soreness?”

“Migraines,” Lotor took a seat on a stool, suddenly feeling very dizzy, “Severe migraines.”

“I’ll grind some mandrake roots for you, they should help settle those - “

Was the room spinning? Why was it suddenly getting harder to breath? Lotor’s lungs were wheezing lightly and he tried blinking hard to get the blackness out of the corner of his eyes. No good, no good at all. He could feel his body start to lean forward against his will, hand reaching out to try and steady himself before he kissed the floor. All he managed to grab was the empty air as he collapsed in a weak heap at Allura’s feet, a groan of pain pushed out of his chest.

“Lotor!” she called out after hearing his body thump on the cold stone, kneeling down to help flip him onto his back, “Lotor, can you hear me? Lotor!”

The Princess pulled out her wand and lit the tip, hoping that it was bright enough for his pupils to follow. However, much to her horror, his gaze was stuck on the ceiling. Was he even conscious? Lotor was panting, trying so very hard to stay awake, but her voice was fading and so was the rest of the room. Stars, his head hurt like something fierce, like it was tearing itself apart in two.

“Father! Father, come quickly!”

The last thing he heard was the rushed footsteps clacking on the floor. The last thing he thought of was, well, suddenly his space felt very, very lonely without you besides him.

“Peppermint sprigs...porcupine quills...hm.”

What a strange list of ingredients for a potion, but who were you to argue on the weirdness that is magic? After Shiro’s cryptic question, you took it upon yourself to drown yourself in the good memories. Well, tried. The more you thought about the time you spent with Lotor, the happier parts, the lighter your heart felt. Yes, you still despised this…distance, but you had to keep to your word.

Give him space.

And if...when he returns, you were sure nothing would make him happier than a Happy potion. Right? Supposedly, it cures depression and, who knows, maybe you might take a little swig of it, too. Now, making it was another thing. Classes were over and there weren’t any potion professors on grounds, so you would have to play this by trial and error.

Doesn’t sound too hard. It’s just a Happy potion. Worst effect? You start singing too loudly or you end up tap dancing until midnight.

“What are you doing here?” came a voice from the opened door, making you turn to acknowledge the blonde staring directly at you.

“Um...making...potions?” you meant it to come out as a firm statement, but out of habit, you smiled guiltily like a caught thief, “You’re, uh, Rome...Romelle, right? Allura’s friend?”

She kept her gaze fixed for a few more seconds. It was a little unnerving, especially when her expression suddenly softened and she offered you a friendly, inviting smile. Romelle put the heavy cauldron in her arms off on one of the empty tables then plopped a seat besides you. She peered over to your book then hummed in thought.

“Happy potion, huh? What’s got you down?”

“Oh, no, not for me. Well, not ALL for me, anyways,” you turned the page, looking for the instructions and brewing time needed for it, “It’s for my friend. He hasn’t been...At least, I don’t think he’s been feeling too well the last couple weeks. Thought this might cheer him up.”

Romelle perched her elbow on the table, chin in her hand, “Well, aren’t you a good friend! I’m a bit of a potion master myself. Anything you need?”

Now, you returned a smile of your own, feeling proud of her compliments aimed to inflate your ego. You gave her a nod of thanks then shrugged sheepishly, finding her oddly over eager assistance a bit strange. If you needed help, you would ask. Ah. That’s...how it felt to say it out loud. A pang twitched in your chest, recalling back when those same words left Lotor’s mouth.

“Thank you, but I think I can handle it. Doesn’t seem too hard,” a soft way to tell her you weren’t as incompetent as you seemed.

That didn’t seem to be the answer she wanted to hear, though. Even if she was smiling and respectfully giving you your distance, there was a flicker of...annoyance behind her eyes. Oh no, did you come off too hard? Or...was it something you said? The anxieties started welling up in your mind again and just as you were about to close your book and pack up, figuring you could finish another day, Romelle gently slid her hand over yours.

You were sure this was supposed to be an act of kindness, of support, but it felt...wrong.

“If you need anything at all, do not be a stranger.”

As soon as she finished talking, she took a step back and left with a cheerful hum on her lips. You hand tingled. Not in a good way either. Not like when Lotor held your fingertips oh so gently while he led you in a dance. Not like when he helped you firmly grasp your wand correctly. Not like when his hand curled around yours to keep you warm in the chilly night.

You dearly missed your friend, your true friend. When you brought your hand to your chest, the plumpness of your palm accidentally skidded over the page. It turned, but not without leaving you with a thin paper cut from your careless attention. Immediately, you cradled your minor wound, not wanting to stain the pages, until your eyes landed on two words.

Hate Potion.

“How long?”

“Three days now. He can barely stomach soup without regurgitating it. I am not sure what seems to be causing his illness. This isn’t typical fever symptoms and my father is doing his own research to help.”

You needed to be alone with Lotor, but Shiro and Allura were right at his bedside. It felt weird, creeping like this, just outside the door and eavesdropping to see when they would leave. The book clutched to your chest and the vials in your pocket suddenly were too loud.

“Maybe there is something I can do to help,” Allura voiced with hope, “I will go aid my father in his research. Will you stay here and monitor him in the time being?”

“Sure, Allura. Thank you again for doing this. We’ll figure out what’s wrong with him. In the mean time, don’t push yourself too hard. He’s resilient. I should know.”

Yes, he was hinting at the strenuously long friendship he had, and will continue to have, with Lotor. The Princess’ heels clicked against the floor as she walked out, completely missing your body tucked behind the opened doors. Good. You weren’t sure if she would be too happy with what you found and...what your conclusions would insinuate.

“Shiro?” you peeked in, making sure it was just him, then your eyes landed on Lotor.

Your friend, he looked so pale with furrowed brows and eyes clenched shut, like he was having a bad string of dream. Standing besides the taller man, you silently asked him if he was okay, If he was going to BE okay. A fever wouldn't originally be a cause for too much concern, much like when you visited the purple prince in his rooms. But two?

It stung something deep to see him in such pain.

“Don’t worry, he’s come out from worse,” Shiro encouraged with a hand on your shoulder, “He’ll be fine. You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to.”

Underlying meaning? If you’re still...uncomfortable around him after that harsh spat from weeks ago, you aren’t obligated to stay. It’s funny what a little time can do to the heart. Its funny what you came to realize that even if he didn’t want to be friends any longer, you still wanted to at least get some defined closure. But first, Lotor had to be awake to tell you this, tell you why, because you at least deserved an explanation that made sense. Hopefully, he had enough time on his own to come to the same thoughts.

“No, no, I wanted to see him. I didn’t think he was this sick,” you took a seat on a stool besides the bed, “Is he, I mean, can he hear us? I bought a book I thought he’d like to read. Or, er, or I’d read to him.”

Shiro offered you a thankful smile hidden behind a short chuckle. He got the hint. He knows when to leave, when to give you privacy for the sake of comfort. Though, now that the thought about it, perhaps your voice would be the one to wake him up. He’d take that chance, he likes those odds for his friend’s health.

“I’ll head to the mess hall to grab a bite. Should I bring you some?”

“No, no, I’ll be alright. Don’t think they have my pie in menu today.”

He walked out, trusting you to watch Lotor for the time being. It wasn’t until you no longer heard his footsteps did you scoot closer to the head of the bed. Those freckles looked dimmer than usual and his hair was slicked with dried sweat. Time to put your plan into action. Carefully, you opened to a specific page of your text, the one you bookmarked with a folded corner.

“Lotor…?”

No response. This time, you placed a hand on his and ran your thumb over his knuckles, ushering him to hear your plead.

“Lotor...Lotor, can you hear me?”

“Mm…” thin slits of nebulous eyes barely opened, but they instantly honed in on your face, “...Huh…?”

Good. He was somewhat coherent, if not dazed and dizzy. Lotor licked his parched lips and you got the hint right away. Grabbing a cup of water from the side table, you held it up to his mouth gently then waited as he took gulp fulls of the cool liquid. With how much he was sweating, he was no doubt dehydrated beyond tolerable levels.

Lotor turned slightly, signaling he was done, and leaned back into his pillow, “What...what are you doing here?”

Not...exactly the first thing you wanted to hear from him after being apart for nearly a month, but again, you had to remember this wasn’t about you. This was about your friend, your very sick friend who must’ve had a smidge of trust in you somewhere deep in his ill mind.

“I think you were poisoned,” you paused when his gaze gave no emotion, “I can’t be...100% sure, though. But if you could - if I could ask you something…”

Poisoned? Well, that certainly wasn’t the first, but this would be the first where he didn’t recognize his own symptoms. These were sneaky, slow-acting with fevers and migraines and severe dehydration. But he couldn’t piece together what exactly can cause this so quickly.

Stars, that look on your face, the meek, unsure, hesitant one. Why were you never confident in yourself?

You took his silence as a yes, “Do you remember drinking anything that tasted strange?”

“No.”

“Did you have...er, did you have mood shifts this frequently?”

A sharp glare and you nearly cringed away from him, but he answered honestly, “...No.”

“When did you start not feeling well?”

“Three weeks ago.”

Your eyes going down the symptom list weren’t happy with the information you were getting from him. Not at all and the questions you had in mind would only get more personal here on out. Hopefully, he won’t shut you completely out again, or worse. Send you away with another argument.

“When you...sniffed the love potion - “ “So, that is what this is about.”

“Lotor, no, I promise, this isn’t - it isn’t about that. If someone was poisoned by a hate potion, they would feel nauseated because of the counter effects of different ingredients in the love potion - “ “It was you,” Lotor mumbled, and you swear your heart skipped a beat, “I could smell you and it made me sick to my stomach.”

If you weren’t thinking of his potential sickness, perhaps those words would’ve cut your heart into pieces. Instead, you remained silent, questioning over, and ruffled for one of the vials in your bag. The pinkish liquid swirled slowly between you two and Lotor instantly knew what it was. He was stuck between feeling disgusted and oddly hopeful.

“I know...I know it doesn’t sound solid, but the book here says a love potion can help nullify the effects of the poison,” you explained before putting the vial on the bedside drawer, “I know its illegal, I know I can get in trouble for this, but here. It’s your choice and I won’t - you know I won’t think any differently of us whatever you choose.”

There were words on his tongue, but none came out. Again, you were over caring again, going the distance when he told you to stop. Or perhaps, this isn't what it seems at all. Someone succeeded in poisoning him, messing with his damn emotions, and messing with the two of you. Now, he had to wonder what would happen if he drank it. Would he still push you away? Or would all these seething emotions cease to exist? Would he return to normal? What was normal?

Risk. Again, too much risk, and he didn’t like it. You left him alone to his thoughts.

Lotor drank the potion discreetly, not wanting Allura or even her father to know how he magically healed within a few days. It was a Christmas miracle, Professor Alfor said. The Prince would let him think that for now, at least, until he can safely secure both of your asses from getting in trouble.

The potion worked. Slowly. Gradually, his unreasonably pessimistic thoughts began clearing from his mind. No longer was just thinking about you giving him a headache. No longer did he catch himself constantly annoyed whenever he thought about the times you two spent together. No longer did he keep the shared journal stored away in his drawer.

“Allura, may I have a moment?”

And no longer was he going to stand aside when he knew damn well who poisoned him.

“Of course, do you need something?”

“No, no, not with you,” Lotor’s cold gaze drifted to the blonde standing besides her, “You. I wish to have a word with you, Romelle.”

He would applaud her on the brave mask she wore. It was no mystery to him who slipped a drop of hate potion in his drink when he wasn’t paying attention. He never liked black tea and now he had a new reason for it. Allura, sensing the tense situation, sought to stand between Lotor and her friend.

“Is there going to be a problem?” the Princess asked firmly, challenging Lotor’s stare.

“No, nothing of the sort. I simply wish to ask a few questions. Private questions.”

Private. Meaning without her around. Romelle placed a hand on Allura’s shoulder, a way to temper and silently reassure her that everything will be okay. The Princess always was the first to help in a confrontation when those she cared about were concerned. The hero type, always jumping head first without all the facts and Lotor wasn’t here to bother filling her in.

“You have my word, I am merely here for conversation.”

“Go. I’ll meet you in the library,” Romelle ushered and finally, Allura acquiesced.

However, Lotor’s piercing glare never left Romelle’s face. He was studying her, trying to find a crack in her facade, anything that would point to her being innocent. Jealousy was a powerful tool that can drive even the most soft, kind-hearted to do despicable, horrific things.

“Why did you do it?”

Romelle tilted her head to the side, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“In divination class, you slipped a hate potion in my tea,” he explained calmly, as if talking about fair weather and approaching cold front, “You let the bitterness cover the taste.”

“Hate potion? Lotor, I really have no clue - “

“You did not clean your cauldron as well as you thought, wench.”

Now, Romelle’s eye twitched at not only the insult, but the rightful anger laced in his tone. Impossible. She cleaned her cauldron spick and span. There was nothing left but water. Either way, she stood her ground in front of Lotor. He had no proof, he had to be bluffing. Yet, there was still part of her that was on edge. Teetering on the “What if…”

“Hate potion residue glows blue in the dark when dusted with moonstone dust,” he took a step forward, she took one back, “unless washed with beetroot juice, it is a permanent stain on whatever surface it touches. Did you forget that bit of information in your grand plan?”

“I did what I had to,” she admitted, no shame, no guilt.

“I will ask this only once more: why did you do it?”

There it was. That burning, eternal flame of rage glossing in her soul. She would burn him, burn everyone around her, burn those she loves, burn Allura, just to seek revenge on him. He only wondered how long until that fire consumes her very being. Lotor narrowed his lids, daring her to speak the truth.

“You don’t deserve to be happy.”

The Prince raised his chin, judging her glowering face ready to bite into him like a rabid, furious animal.

“You don’t deserve to be happy after what you did to Allura. You broke her heart. You tricked her.”

“I know what kind of person she is. I know how gullible her heart is. I know she trusts you to be kind just because you two are close friends,” Lotor had what he needed, he had the evidence tucked neatly in the back of his mind, “I know I broke her heart. And now, you will break hers, too.”

Romelle’s back hit against the stone wall, suddenly aware he was towering over her with venom seething from his every word. She wanted to punch him. Fight him, here and now, make him feel how painful it was to pick Allura back up when she was at her lowest. Listen to all the regret and sorrow the Princess would whisper in her deep sleep.

“Either you tell Allura what you did or I will,” Lotor leaned back, his menacing aura giving her room to breath, “Consider this a fair trade for hurting my best friend.”

Either way, the truth would be her downfall.

As much as he wanted to report her, get her expelled for poisoning him directly, Lotor knew seeking revenge would only waste his time. Right now, he had to see you, talk to you, explain himself in hopes you would understand. You didn’t deserve to be attacked by the mistakes of his past relationships.

Sleep barely came to you that night. A full moon was supposed to be the most peaceful of them all, yet your mind was anything but peaceful right now. You wondered if Lotor drank it. You wondered if he did and if he felt better. You wondered if anything could help him where you could not. You wondered if he still wanted his space. Sighing, you turned on the other side of your bed only to be met with a glowing, blue journal.

Lotor? Lotor was...he was talking to you? Immediately, you reached over and opened the book where you last finished writing to him. His familiar handwriting began scribbling three little words.

Black Lake. Tonight.

You didn’t need to be told twice. It was a blur, slipping on warm clothes, pocketing your trusty thermal stone, tucking the thick scarf around your neck, then rushing down the halls as quietly as you can. Maybe you should consider yourself lucky for not getting caught with how loud your boots echoed on the floor. By the time you arrived, you could already see his tall physique standing in the distance, back towards you.

“L...Lo - huff...Lotor?” you were panting slightly from running in the cold and all your friend did to acknowledge you was raise a silver brow, “I - huff, huff - give me a sec…”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, the familiar touch warming you instantly, “You need not over exert yourself for my sake.”

“I know, I know, I just...I have no excuse, really,” you wanted to add that you missed him, but you were surprised by the next words that came out of his mouth.

“I understand. I missed you, too.”

Now, you stood awkwardly, eyes looking everywhere but his face. The time apart, it didn’t deter your feelings for him, but it felt...weird. Changed, but for the better? You weren’t so sure. Lotor sensed this and took a deep breath. Come clean. She is your friend. Your best friend. Tell her this or you will lose her forever.

“I...I lied to you.”

“...Huh?”

He looked up to the stars, please, help me, then back down at you. Gentle hands reached for yours and he upturned your palm, seeing the scar embedded there in the center. He had the same mirroring his own hand and, faintly, he thought destiny must have a funny way of showing him how friends are made.

“Allow me to explain. Do you remember when I told you what I saw in the mirror? About how I saw myself with someone I deeply cared about?” he stroked the jagged skin with his thumb, reminiscing that fateful day long ago, “I saw you in the reflection. We were both so happy and I...hesitated telling you this because…”

Because? He had his reason, none of them seeming valid right now.

“I have no reason why I did not tell you. Maybe I was scared about what I saw. Maybe I did not want my future to be set in stone.”

“Lotor, c’mon, that was ages ago. I don’t care about what that dumb mirror showed you. Why would I get mad about that? You have your secrets, that’s fine, and - “

“Please,” he ushered, the bravery to speak so openly about how one mistake led to another starting to make him clam up, “You must understand. After the mirror showed me what could be, how happy I could be with you, I began questioning myself. Questioning you, questioning us. I do not regret all those times we spent together. Not one bit. But, I do regret that...I did not know what this was truly telling me.”

This? This being his heart, the one he placed your hand to cover on his chest. Now, you were blushing and a little speechless.

“Say something,” Lotor’s eyes searched yours, hoping against hope that you didn’t hate his guts for isolating himself away from you, “Anything.”

But what COULD you say? A whole months worth of thoughts suddenly became quiet, abandoning you when you needed them most.

“When we finished those love potions, I had a feeling it would be you. I just...wasn’t aware of myself. I didn’t know what to do when I realized I like - I love spending time with you, Lotor. I feel like a better me.”

You dug your mouth under your scarf, a nervous habit hoping it would hide you completely.

“You were right. About before. If I paid more attention to you, I would’ve seen you were sick much earlier on and - and I could’ve helped sooner. I know you wanted space and I’ll give you as much as you want. Just - I want you to feel better, too. A better you. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. Yes, I believe I do undersatnd,” a shadow of darkness covered his eyes, “Even now, I still feel unsure about what this means. We are...best friends, still, yes? And yet, I am wondering if these feelings I have are honest. Ever since the mirror lured me with a future of love and happiness, I doubt myself, and I would never, ever, want to have these uncertainties come between us.” 

Lotor was a man who loved with all his being or none at all.

He reached one hand within his coat and pulled out a rose. A black rose. Of course, your gaze landed on the flower, eyes glazed in fascination of the dark plant, before he openly offered it to you. At first, you took it to examine its qualities. The thorns were gone and the gentle bud was barely starting to open into a bloom. Your fingers traced over the petals, the soft, smooth petals, and you let out a curious hum.

“This is for you. I wish to give this to you. As a sign of my…”

Affections? Appreciation? Infatuation?

“My attraction to you.”

Oh, where was his silver tongue now?

“Ah...I - erm…” your cheeks were tinted in a lovely hue of pink as you realized he was still cupping your hands in his, “Lotor, if this is about, y’know, the other night - I mean, it’s, you don’t have to feel obligated to...you know that, right? I did it to help you and all, but you don’t have to - mmf, how do I say this? I’m not...I don’t know where to go from here.”

Wait. Were you rejecting him?

“I, hold on -no - I know how that sounds,” you let out a frustrated sigh, having a difficult time finding your words, just like he was, “I guess...why are you offering this to me?”

“Dear, I am giving this to you in hopes that you would allow me to learn about you. And, in the process, I hope we can become something...more than what that mirror promised me. Something real, something I can experience in the present.”

Lotor wanted to break away from the deep, obsessive infatuation, rooting in his mind and instead explore what was hidden underneath. He knows he felt it, before the hate potion, before the dance, before he even took you stargazing. It was there, he just needed to reach far and feel it grow in his hand.

“Are you, uh...you sure you want to do that?”

“With some exasperation, yes. Yes, I am sure.”

The Prince leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours in a soft plea. You, too, were gazing into his eyes with a smidge of love buried somewhere in your soul. This felt...calm. Peaceful, much different than the times you two cuddled under a blanket or riding his broom at night. It felt...freeing. No bars held back. No bricks blocking each other. No mirror telling him where his heart should lie.

“If I am to be with you, have a future with you, I wish it to be on my own terms, dear. Our own terms,” he slowly slid his eyes closed, mind only thinking about the potential, the work, the love he knew was in store, “If you will have me, that is.”

Tucking your head under his chin, you gladly nestled your face on his chest, only slightly aware that your eyes were wet.

“Of course, Lotor. What are best friends for?”

[isabellebrookspopularmusics-blog]

INTRO

“Intro” isn’t just a horribly unimaginative title for the opening of my look into the now critically acclaimed band, the Xx. Instead, it’s the first song on the South London trio’s debut album, and a suitable starting point as it was my earliest impression of a sound that immediately worked its way into my heart. First hearing the 2-minute, lyric-less track I was instantly seduced by the moody indolence of a simple guitar riff, blurry keyboard, and a bass subtle but deep enough to feel like it’s flowing through your whole body. The poignant directness of the music alone was like nothing I’d come across and it set the stage for the experience that is The Xx.

Having known each other since childhood, Romy Madley Croft, Oliver Sim, and Jamie Smith share a closeness that’s reflected in the cohesion of their sound. Making music began as something that they did for themselves because they loved it, never anticipating that anyone else would hear it, let alone the international success they would attain. After releasing their self-titled first album in 2009, the band quickly rose to popularity; The Guardian named them the top record and they were awarded the UK Mercury Prize for best British album of the year.

Unlike a lot of popular music, their songs often have a somber tone and are riddled with melancholy lyrics about love lost and personal struggles. I can see why some people would steer away from The Xx in favor of a more predictable, shall I say uncomplicated, artist like Drake (for whom the word ‘yeah’ comprised a solid 20 minutes of his most recent album, Views). But something they have in common is that their music projects a sense of vulnerability. There’s a reason why these unlikely introverts, who have managed to keep their personal lives almost completely out of the limelight, have risen to success based on true artistry. Their music has the power to resonate with people on a deeply emotional level; it can make you feel heartbroken on a sunny day but you still love it because it’s so moving.

From their first album in 2009, to their second in 2012, titled Coexist, and now with their long anticipated, recently released third album, I See You, The Xx have managed to stay true to their original consciousness, while expanding their music and developing their style. By taking a deeper look into these albums, I hope to share an understanding of why this band has come to mean so much to me, as I think they have with many across the world.

 THE BEGINNING

Along with their first album came their major hit, “Crystalised.” The song opens with an ethereal tone accompanied by a characteristic bass riff as Sim’s voice, even and sensual, leads in and then switches to Croft, who’s sound couldn’t possibly be a better counterpart; the tempo picks up as the two sing together in the chorus. The song has the palpable tension of a toxic relationship that’s fueled with passion but doomed to go up in flames. As with all of their songs, despite the complementary nature of their voices you never get the impression that the duo are yearning for each other, and instead that they’re dealing with the same problem separately. This is likely due to the fact that they write independently and collaborate for a final product. It’s this quality I think that makes their songs so stirring; when you listen to them you feel as if you’re in their position and get the sense of the loneliness that comes with a broken heart rather than intruding on someone else’s love affair.

While “Crystalised” is the standout track of their first album, “Stars” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyIHQsP9xIE) and “Basic Space” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHZVGqqf3gg) are equally as notable and also intensely emotive. The album is in many ways musically very simple–which the members attribute to the fact that they just weren’t very good musicians at that point–but the simplicity adds an undeniable layer of sincerity. It also paved the way for their second, more technically accomplished album, Coexist, that I would argue, uncompromisingly, is one of the best ever made (at least in my book).

THE XX MADE ME CRY IN PUBLIC

I’ve never been one to cry openly but I’ll never forget the way I felt when I saw the Xx live at a music festival. It was right after the release of Coexist and I forced my friends to push our way to front of the crowd hours before their set began so we’d be as close as physically possible. They walked on stage, dressed all in black, opened with their song “Angels” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_nW5AF0m9Zw), and I knew it was going to be seriously good; the very nature of their sound combined with massive speakers in a live setting felt like their music was reverberating straight to my core.  It was when they played my favorite song, “Sunset”, that I surprised myself and uncharacteristically lost it. The song begins with a heavy drumbeat produced by Jamie, which becomes the heartbeat of the entire song, and is shortly followed by Romy’s striking guitar chords, and by the time the vocals began I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks. The stranger next to me put his hand on my shoulder and with concern asked if I was alright and I responded telling him how moved I was. I always tell people about that when they ask what the best concert I’ve ever seen was. The song “Sunset” has a marked sense of loss:

 I always thought it was sad–the way we act like strangers after all that we had. We act like we had never met.

And

I always thought it was a shame that we have to play these games. It felt like you really knew me. Now it feels like you see through me.

 The lyrics and the overall feeling created by the tone of the song capture the impression of the void left after a relationship that you put everything into.  

The rest of the album is filled with similar tragic melodies but, again, is musically captivating and keeps you wanting more. Regardless of your past experiences, the xx has the ability to make you sad about an ex you’ve never even had. You could ask why anyone would want to listen to something that makes you feel this way, but to me true art is anything that can make you feel something really intensely and the xx does this perfectly.

A CHANGE IN TONE

A lot has happened for the band in the nearly five years that passed between the release of their second and third albums. During that period Jamie did extensive solo work as a producer and in 2015 released his very successful album In Colour under the name Jamie Xx (http://www.allmusic.com/artist/jamie-xx-mn0002602648/biography and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r7gmVWgEpRc). The progress Jamie made musically pushed them to new levels as a group and led to a notable difference in their overall sound and complexity. While they still maintain true to their foundation, it’s as if they’ve stepped out of the darkness with a bolder, unfettered sense of honesty on I See You. The album’s opening track, “Dangerous” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZCCey_22ws) begins with horns and a deep house beat, much more optimistic than any of their previous work. The message of the song is similar to that of “Crystalised,” talking about a precarious relationship:

They say we're in danger But I disagree If proven wrong, shame on me But you've had faith in me So I won't shy away Should it all fall down You'll have been my favorite mistake

 But instead of seeming timid and fatalist it takes on a more determined nature in sound and lyrics that sets the vibe for the whole album.

The first single released from the album, “On Hold,” has a similar quality and is indicative of Jamie’s growth, featuring sampling from Hall and Oates and more intricate melodies. The beat is faster and the timbre less downcast but it still hits you in the same way emotionally as some of their earlier work. It’s the story of a love that seemed like destiny but with neglect it faded away. It has a very perceptible feeling of regret and longing but without the sense that the unshakeable misery is the end all.

Despite their newfound light, stripped back tracks like “Performance” and “Brave For You” are very much evocative of Coexist.

“A Violent Noise” is arguably one of the better tracks on the new album (yeah–this one made me cry too). Rather than focusing on love troubles, it centers on the feeling of being torn up inside and not knowing how to cope with it:

With every kiss from a friend With everything I pretend not to feel Am I too high? Am I too proud? Is the music too loud for me to hear?

Now I go out But every beat is a violent noise Dries my eye With every beat comes a violent noise The melody sung And I don't know the voice Now I go out But every beat is a violent noise

The echoing guitar chords and Oliver’s inflection when he sings “Am I too high? Am I too proud? Is the music too loud” are completely haunting. The background music creates a cloud that evokes the sensation of being enveloped by losing your way and looking for an escape from the torment. With the recent release of the album, the band has also openly discussed Oliver’s struggle with alcohol. Unlike their other songs, this seems very much like it’s being sung from his perspective specifically while Romy’s verses sound pleading, which could be a reference to his experience.

Overall, I See You’s polychromatic nature offers a new level of artistry and suggests the The xx’s capability of being more than just melancholy while still conveying an emotional intensity.

OUTRO?

Unlike a lot of popular artists who push their music and their “brand,” there’s an anonymity to The xx that adds to their success; it allows you to make the music about your own experiences and taps into feelings you didn’t even know you felt. Although it’s a completely cliché play on the title of their newest album, The xx sees me in a way that I don’t think any other band possibly could and for that I’m grateful.

  Works cited

Auxtelevision. YouTube. AUX, 29 Aug. 2012. Web. 10 Feb. 2017. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mJR9Q-F_oU>.

Gaerig, Andrew. "The xx ." The xx: xx Album Review | Pitchfork. N.p., 28 Aug. 2009. Web. 11 Feb. 2017. <http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/13400-xx/>.

Monger, James Christopher. "The xx Biography." AllMusic. N.p., n.d. Web. 11 Feb. 2017. <http://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-xx-mn0002016312>.

O'Brien, Jon. "Jamie xx Biography." AllMusic. N.p., n.d. Web. 11 Feb. 2017. <http://www.allmusic.com/artist/jamie-xx-mn0002602648/biography>.

Snapes, Laura. "I'll Be Your Mirror: How the xx Found Themselves-and Their Vibrant New Sound-in Each Other." Pitchfork. N.p., 28 Dec. 2016. Web. 13 Feb. 2017. <http://pitchfork.com/features/cover-story/9997-ill-be-your-mirror-how-the-xx-found-themselvesand-their-vibrant-new-soundin-each-other/>.