#her outfit here is based on that portrait of belle actually

[hetagrammy]

Back at it with the Regency AU! Here we have Francis' daughters, Genevieve and Michelle. They are the apples of his eye, and he dotes on them incessantly when he's not out at sea.

Genevieve (Monaco) is Francis' elder daughter and his only child with his late wife, Jeanne. She was born in 1801, so she's roughly nine when the story begins. Being without a maternal figure, she tends to emulate Francis, though more reserved than him. She also tries to act more grown up than she is largely because of Francis' military absences.

Michelle (Seychelles) is Francis' younger daughter. He had her out of wedlock with a free Seychellois woman living in France. She was born in 1806, more of an age with Arthur's children. She's very bubbly and sweet, and she hates it when Francis has to leave. She relies heavily on her older sister for guidance and emotional support.

Francis adores them both and when he's not spiting Arthur, much of what he does is to preserve his daughters' status and prospects. Having been through the turmoil of the French Revolution, and been a refugee, he only wants the best for them in everything. If increasing his own status and pushing for France's expansion can do that for them, then by God he will do it.

[chibimyumi]

Lizzie’s Campania Dinner Dress REDESIGNED

After having redesigned the Notorious Robin Dress of O!Ciel (click here), I thought I’d try my hands on another well-known dress; Lizzie’s dress on the Campania!

As explained in the post linked above, Yana seemed to not have an inkling of historical fashion knowledge at the beginning of the series. As the series became bigger however, she employed a Victorian Era expert and the results are clear.

In this post I will examine to what extent Lizzie’s dinner dress is accurate and break this costume down from the top, and propose how to “correct” these while trying to keep as much of the original design as untouched as possible.

I. Dinner Dress

Hair

Just like I said in the Robin Dress™ REDESIGN post, needless to say, 19th century people would not have worn twin tails. Wearing the hair down was considered ungroomed for women in the 19th century, but young, unmarried girls were allowed to spare a few hairpins.

Unlike O!Ciel who would always try to strive for a more mature look, Lizzie would aim for the opposite.

In the late Victorian era it was normal to have bangs, but it was proper to have it cut well above the eyebrows. So Lizzie’s bangs only need to be trimmed a bit to be period accurate.

The long dangling fringe of Lizzie’s is a tribute to her mother, but alas, that one does need to go... I do not dare fully risk the WRATH of Frances the Formidable however, so in honour to her, I have kept that bang as much as possible. The sides of the bangs were allowed to be longer in order to frame the face better, but the point remains that the face should not be covered.

(I know, I know, two symmetrical half-arsed fringes would have been better, but I promised to try change as little as possible...)

Victorians hardly ever cut their hair, because the longer the hair, the more feminine and desirable a girl/woman was deemed to be. The aesthetic of hair in 1880s was more in the vertical direction instead of horizontal. Hence Lizzie would probably have worn her curls a bit smaller, therewith using up less hair into the width.

The period wherein people strongly favoured a horizontal aesthetic was approximately 200 to 70 years outdated. If we had to justify what type of hair Lizzie’s hairdo was supposed to be historically, I could only say it is probably the 1670s early baroque hairdo. (I mean... that portrait IS fairly similar to Lizzie’s hair, is it not?)

The hair ornament Lizzie wears is not entirely impossible, just very unlikely for the 1880s. I have kept the weird rosette that she wears, and used them to pin up both sides of her hair. I could not find any visual sources of people wearing rosettes in their hair instead of their chest after earning some type of prize, but since there were no regulations regarding how a ribbon must be tied into a bow, the rosettes can stay.

Neckline and Bodice

The design of the original bodice also requires a bit of work. Just like with the Robin Dress, the main problem lies with the silhouette.

In the height of the Victorian Era, the main endeavour was waist reducing, hence the chest area would be accentuated and “streamlined” towards the shoulder, while the seams would detract from the waist optically.

Instead of the straight design of the chest panel, I replaced it with a fan-shaped front piece, of which the lines would achieve this ‘streamline’ effect.

The halterneck-like neckline as in the original design would have been quite unlikely as it would have made the neck stand out, and make the much thinner neck compete with the desired small waist. The rule of thumb for what aesthetic bodices should have was generally open wide top, closed small bottom (V shaped, not O). Usually when there is a halterneck-line, something else that would redirect the eyes towards the larger shoulder-chest area would adorn the bodice too for compensation.

Thus, instead of the rounded halterneck-line, I replaced it with a straight square neckline. Though square-necks were not very popular in Lizzie’s time, they were not unheard of. Miraculously I happened to stumble upon this illustration from 1889 (exactly Kuro’s present day setting), and herein we can see both the short lantern sleeves and the square neckline.

Decoration wise there is nothing inconsistent with 1889 fashion, but as Lizzie is the daughter to an influential Marquis and the dress is supposed to be a dinner dress, it should be a tad gaudier. The elaborateness of Lizzie’s original dress was more alike that of a daytime walking dress. I did not deviate too much from the original manga’s design, I simply added some gold details that were not there yet.

(The anime’s dress had been simplified for animation’s sake, so my redesign is based on the manga’s slightly more elaborate triple panel decoration.)

This choker ribbon necklace is the same as for the Robin Dress. Like I said before, these were worn by people in the 1880s, but they were not standard for fancy night time events. However, as it is technically not historically ‘inaccurate’, it can stay.

Waistline

Just like the Robin Dress, Lizzie’s waistline is the most historically inaccurate part that renders the entire design a period amalgamation.

First of all, I gave the waistline a pointed end and swagged the inner skirt up towards the hips for a dramatic V-shape. The bow-sash worn around the waist was something that was in fashion during the 1780s and 1790s, and was part of the ‘Chemise de la Reine’ look that was named for and popularized by Marie Antoinette.

Fashion trends do always come back every now and then, so a ribbon bow is not necessarily taboo. But the height at which the bow sits on the original dress would guide the waistline towards the hips, which would have gone against the small-waist aesthetics of 1880s, which would have been taboo.

Hence, I removed the sash entirely, and shoved the bow itself to the back (more on this below.)

Skirt

Again, the same problem Yana had with the Robin Dress; the bell-shaped silhouette that would be at least 30 years outdated by 1889, so I simply reduced its volume.

The split panel front however, was common in the 1880s, as such it remains untouched.

The dress code for formal events would require a floor-length hem for dresses, but a dinner party such as the one on the Campania would be semi-formal, and Lizzie who strives for a very youthful look would have been able to get away with a shorter hem. Hence, the skirt length also remains unchanged.

Bustle

“Does this dress make my butt look small?” would have been the question women asked. Late Victorian fashion just LOVED a huge behind, and the bustle was the absolute star of any feminine outfit.

The design of the ornaments on the original dress is actually spot on, except that it would simply lie flat over the skirt, rather than help the skirt get a large bulge.

So for the redesign, I have decided to use the golden bow that sat at the front to draw the attention towards the maximised behind. Underneath I used the original triple row tails, and flanked this decoration with large pleats to produce a dramatic back. For completion’s sake, I have added golden embroideries to the pleats so that the large golden bow will not just sit there as a random piece of ornament.

Shoes

I could find relatively few sources on late 1880s shoe fashion, so my caveat here.

Lizzie’s d’Orsay type of shoes were not standard in the 19th century England, but they were definitely not impossible. 1880s d’Orsay pumps were a bit more closed around the lateral arch, but the technique to make completely open d’Orsays was already available in the 1600s, and wildly popular after the 1830s. As I could not find any sources on when they stopped being popular, I think Lizzie’s shoes would probably have been acceptable.

What I do propose to change is the point of the toe. Only very, very young girls (up to age 4 ish) would wear a rounded nose. Slightly older children and adults would wear pointed toes instead.

The only other thing I propose to change is only a “problem” if I were to be perfectly pedantic and nitpicky; namely the arch of the shoe. Arches of the shoe until the 1910s were mostly straight, and did not have the same arch as our natural feet have. So in order to create the perfect 1889 shoe silhouette, I straightened Lizzie’s shoes too.

Y’all still with me? Good. Now comes the trickiest part, THE UNDERWEAR, a.k.a. Lizzie’s Battle Suit.

II. Battle Suit

Lizzie’s dinner dress was actually fairly historically accurate, earning a personal Chibimyumi rating of 6.6/10 in total (as opposed to Robin Dress’ miserable total rating of 4.1/10). Her Battle Suit however, scores less well, reaching only a 5.4/10.

Chemise

Victorian undergarments were nothing like our contemporary ones. If you have no breasts then it is easy, but if you do... well, a bra is bad enough, right?

Well.... In the Victorian times women wore layers on top of layers, of which the first was the chemise. Contrary to popular belief, people did not wear corsets directly on their skin. Corsets were very hard to wash, thus the chemise served to both protect the corset from getting dirty, as well as absorb the sweat.

Yana did do pretty good research as attested by her not having fallen for this popular misconception. Lizzie does indeed wear a type of chemise underneath her corset, though I would say that the sleeves are too elaborate for the dress she has chosen to wear on top.

Such elaborate sleeves were worn to be combined with smaller sleeves so that the lace can protrude from underneath, giving the entire outfit a little icing on top (like the lace at the chest). Lizzie’s dinner dress has lantern sleeves that would not reveal any of the chemise’s sleeves.

Chemises were washed quite regularly, but lace is a very expensive and delicate material. Hence, in order to minimise wear-and-tear, people would probably have avoided wearing ultra fancy chemises if it cannot be seen anyway. But who knows. Lizzie is a rich kid, she probably has enough lacy chemises at her disposal. Still, just to be perfectly historically accurate, I gave her chemise simpler sleeves.

Corset

Unlike the chemise, corsets were not regularly washed, and thus elaborate lace was very desired.

The large ruffles on the chest of Yana’s design however, are probably a tad too elaborate, and judging from the thickness, they could easily disrupt the smoothness of the outerwear.

1880s corsets were generally not very decorated as their function was valued over anything else. This corset I found dating from 1887 is the most elaborate authentic one I could find, and it indeed strongly resembles the one Lizzie wears. However, as even this one does not have lace protruding as much as Lizzie’s, I have toned the corset down too for the redesign.

In the 1880s, both corsets with and without front closure were worn. However, the pieces as elaborately decorated in the front would not have front closures. Hence I removed the hook and eye closure in the redesign.

The thing that is the least accurate about Lizzie’s corset is the boning structure. What produced a well-shaped waist was not how tight you lace the corset, but the structure of the boning. An unlaced corset of that time would have looked much ‘curvier’ than any tight-laced straight-boned corset.

By the late 1880s, boning techniques were so advanced that they were very soft and flexible, and yet also provided the firmness necessary for the desired look. The straight paneled type of boning drawn by Yana was outdated and strongly advised against.

Finally, the mini-skirt at the bottom of the corset is cute, but I have yet to find one like that in the 1880s. I don’t think that tiny piece of fabric would disrupt the desirable silhouette, but there will be PLENTY layers on top, so I removed it just to be sure.

Skirt

The skirt - or rather, everything that happened UNDER the skirt is a stack of complexities.

The most bottom layer would have been the underwear with trouser-legs, layer 1. Layer 2 is the protruding hem of the chemise, that may either have been long or short. But the chemise and the underwear are the only things that were worn UNDER the corset, hence the frilly-frilly skirt we see Lizzie fight in should have been the chemise, and not the underskirt.

The chemise was never something as wide as the one drawn by Yana, and could therefore not achieve that flare effect. I know it is absolutely gorgeous, and from an artistic point of view I myself would not have done otherwise. But as I am doing historical fashion research and redesign, I shall compromise myself and settle with a narrow skirt. The skirt would probably have been so narrow Lizzie would have trouble fighting. So it would not have surprised me if she decided to make a large split in it, or rolled it up and tucked it under her corset.

The frilly underskirt we see Lizzie wear should be layer 4 rather than 2. If we study Lizzie’s dress, we can see that the frilly part is a separate piece of clothing, unlike what the anime-art suggests.

Underneath this layer, there would have been a bustle (layer 3) that was strapped around the waist, over the corset. Like I explained before, bustles were essential to any Victorian dress. They came in many shapes and sizes, but I have settled with the simplest one.

Should we wish to keep the frilly skirt, then we need to keep in mind that Lizzie would have worn FOUR layers, which would hardly have made it any easier for her to navigate through the water than before. So why bother remove the dress and expose herself at all then? Hence, all layers from layer 2 on will sink with the Campania.

From our 21st century point of view, the Battle Suit looks quite cute, and we would probably just wear it like that. But if we consider down to what layer a real 1889 girl would have to have stripped, and how many somewhat embarrassing contraptions had to be removed first before reaching some level of mobility, we can probably understand how embarrassing it truly must have been.

Well, I had tons of fun doing this research, and I learned a great lot about what corsets really were (and not the inhumane torture devices they are claimed to be). I hope you all also had fun reading this too.  (*´▽｀*)ノ

【Related post: Ciel’s notorious Robin Dress™ REDESIGNED】

【Related post: Redesign: O!Ciel and Sebastian in different eras】

MASTERPOST My Art  

MASTERPOST Furukawa Era Kuromyu

MASTERPOST Gender in Kuroshitsuji

MASTERPOST Analyses & Info

[hydraulicfluidinmyteapot]

Pirates of the Caribbean

This is an ask from @shrigma-male​, but i accidentally deleted the ask.. so sorry! I am high key excited to get an ask about this topic, as the Pirates of the Caribbean ride is probably one of my earliest animatronic centric obsessions. not only is it one of the earliest and most impressive feats of Imagineering, it also remains solid to this day. it houses a great many iconic animatronic figurines, all of which work together in perfect harmony to capture beautifully life filled scenes of a cohesive storyline. Its individual ride concept was so strong that it birthed a line of clones and even a famous movie franchise. isn’t that sick? a RIDE was the key source material for a whole movie series! but it’s unsurprising, with the time and care poured into the ride. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you think about it, the ride is JAM PACKED so there is a LOT to talk about. This will only be a super brief post information-wise, but who knows? There may be more to come if this performs well. Apologies, my life’s not going great at the moment and i don’t have a lot of spare time so this is not as high a quality as i would like it to be.

Here’s my fast fact file on it!

Debut: March 16, 1967

Withdrawal: All rides are still operating

Attraction: The Pirates of the Caribbean 

Locations: Disneyland, Magic Kingdom, Tokyo Disneyland, Disneyland Paris, Shanghai Disney (but this one’s heavily modified)

Attraction Type: Dark ride

Riders Per Vehicle: 23–24

Number of vehicles:  50

Animatronics: 119 ish but it depends on the ride version

Ride videos: The entire ride varies from version to version and different people want to see different parts. i’m leaving you guys to find your own ride videos. it’s a very popular ride, just type on in to youtube and you’ll find heaps of nice high quality ones. 

The thing that stands out about this ride is the theming and the sheer amount of effort put in to creating an immersive environment. the ride houses an impressive 119 audio animatronics, 53 of which are animals. There are 630,000 gallons of water in the ride (original Disneyland) and takes three whole days to drain. there are over 40,000 gold coins in the treasure room scene alone. It holds what could possibly be considered Disney’s first themed restaurant which can be seen at the start of the ride. It is objectively one of the coolest things I’ve ever ridden. I want to call specific attention to the boat scene, where cannons fare at each other from opposite ships, creating glowing impacts and throwing water about. the first time I rode it it ensnared my attention and completely suspended my disbelief.The ride system is based on the one used in it’s a small world, due to that rides incredible success in debuting a boat-based transport system. Although I hate it’s a small world with a burning passion and refuse to write anything on it, I must be forced to admit that it did wonders as a test on how to create a good dark ride, emphasising key features such as a high rider capacity, boat-based transport system, and proving that animatronics are an incredibly attractive key event. Since the 60’s when it debuted, the Pirates of the Caribbean ride has gone through many changes throughout its location, including entire scenes being added and removed. but what it has maintained throughout its historic run time is its notoriety and splendour. the key change that I will bring up is the 2006 and 2007 renovations that include more theming from the very successful movie franchise. slightly unrelated, but the song “Yo ho, a pirate’s life for me” was actually first written for the ride. The rides are all being constantly updated in minor ways whether it’s slightly improving the animatronics, touching up background details or changing costuming. I’ll attach here a brief sort of timeline of the ride that I’ve whipped up here, but it only touches on the most notable modifications. sorry about how crap-tier it is..

Now, to talk more specifically about animatronics. The animatronics used on this ride are some of the earliest made by Disney. some are really quite basic, with their full range of motions being a singular full body action such as raising and lowering out of a barrel, but others move heads and arms in (sort of) lifelike actions. Some are newer, (specifically captain Jack Sparrow), but most are the original ones from the 60’s. One of my (and everyone’s tbh) favourites is the redheaded lady. She is (very originally) named Redd. Previously she was being sold off for auction, but in 2018 she was swapped to being an auctioneer. She has stunning red curls and a beautiful dress to match, and now holds a gun. here’s a little before and after.

 in the same refurbishment that changed her the mist screen in the tunnel before the fort battle was removed and replaced with a pirate in a cage who turns into a skeleton via an optical trick as well as an octopus playing with some medallions, along with the original 1967 narration about cursed treasure being restored. Her new version is based off none other than Anne Bonny herself (worth a google, she’s a fucking BOSS (like seriously!! Queer history icon!!! LOOK 👏 HER 👏 UP 👏 )) . She’s also displayed in dead man’s cove in a portrait, which I think is kinda neat. Her Paris version is completely silent, but the others yell about selling rum. Sadly I have never actually seen the new Redd in person, as I have only ridden the ride in Tokyo (where she is still being sold).

Now, the barker bird! oh how I love him so <3 he’s a little green pirate parrot, who spent his days crying about the ride. he was originally in the queue area but got kicked outside eventually to help deal with crowd control. he was then gotten rid of in 2006 in the big movie refurb. He was remarkably similar to the original barker bird who resided outside of the Enchanted Tikki Room; however, the pirate version has a peg leg, eye patch, tattoo on his chest and wondrously villainous hat. he was originally based off of Captain Flint, the parrot from Treasure Island. It is theorised that he has a skeletal clone inside the ride; the parrot belonging to “the Dirty Feet pirate”. 

When you first get on the ride, the first animatronic you come across is Old Joe. he is an animatronic character used in multiple different attractions, including Liberty Belle Riverboat, The Western River and Mark Twain Riverboat. in each version, he lives in a shack and is associated with the banjo. I say associated because it is actually a really common misconception that he actually plays the banjo. he does not, it is just a dark scene and there is banjo music playing around him. you can see the tip of his pipe glowing as you approach it in the ride, lit up alongside the fireflies. he is a small taste of what is to come.

Barbossa replaced the original pirate captain of The Wicked Wench in the boat battle scene in the mass movie renovation. he is my tied favourite with the redhead, as his dialog adds so much to the scene. his character moves in a beautiful fashion, lit up by a spotlight. His face is artfully painted, capturing what I believe to be the most human expression in the entire ride. His boat is fighting a Castillo del Morro fortress of Isla Tesoro, whilst busy searching for treasure and presumably captain jack sparrow. in 2011 his WDW version’s outfit was swapped over to his privateer uniform from On Stranger Tides, to keep the ride tied to the movies. What can be considered quite odd is that in Paris’s later renovation, the Captain did not replace the Wicked Wench captain, and was rather added in to a scene at the end of the ride, in the skeleton grotto. he is standing on the shipwreck beside the skeleton helmsman, carrying a lantern. 

The auctioneer. I don’t like him. greasy man. his eyes are wild. He’s originally voiced by Paul Frees (an icon, a legend) and is inspired by Captain Bartholomew Roberts (considered the most successful pirate in the golden age of piracy. He is also a pirate from the ship The Wicked Wench, and his auction is set up near a canteen called "La Cantina”. very creative. He was originally selling brides (human trafficking, not very snazzy) but now he sells chickens he stole from townspeople. however, this is unsuccessful. In the Paris version, instead of the chickens he is trying to sell a painting of Jean Laffite. Funnily enough, Jean is one of Disney’s sort of “stand in” pirate characters that they frequently just use whenever they need a pirate to slide in. Unfortunately, the auctioneer is always kept relatively up to date with the shiniest, newest technology that Disney can spare, and is always one of the most advanced figures on the ride. doesn’t deserve it, he’s slimy and I don’t like him. I should probably mention that he doesn’t actually have a name other than the auctioneer. There’s also a clone of him used in the haunted mansion for the duelling animatronics. loser. 

This is a very long post, so I shall cut it here. I will leave you with an image gallery, further reading and a possible promise of a part two if this post does well. Thank you!

(ok so i actually haven’t got any further reading gathered yet. give me like 6 hours and ill fix it in an edit. i promise. i just want to get this post out asap)

[twistednuns]

February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).      

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

[deztinywarriors]

ES Spectre 2.0 Chapter 42

[abblebadabble]

Pygmalion and Galatea

This one is, again, for English last year. Sorry for the length and thanks for reading!

He’d never looked at them before.

Well, obviously, he’d looked at them; they were everywhere, like moths. Stupid, sluttish moths, obsessed with frivolity and springtime scents that really just made everyone in the room’s nose itch pointlessly, recklessly, while the large, burly walls of meat called men stared at their lithe, insect bodies and catcalled flirtatiously. So. He had seen a girl, physically, with his own eyes. But he hadn’t, as the walls of meat would say, “checked one out” ever. What was the point? They’d all seen it wasn't real.

And he would know.

There was no such thing as amor, as je t’aime, as sunset dinners with champagne and roses and Diane’s watching sin with all her giggling huntresses in the sky. There was no such thing as soulmates or the perfect couple. Ary had seen it himself. The two sworn to his side from the beginning, shredding at his heart like paper and needles, pulling themselves away until the whole mirrored illusion shattered like a magician’s glass. Oh, yes, they could pretend, the perfect three, the marble-blonde parisienne and the darkened italiano and the tiny pale boy with Papa’s hair and Maman’s face and the name with ‘superior’ who was trapped by that one-sided mirror toujours, sempre, always.

Once that magician world, that mirror world, that perfect world, became fragile, it was a flower, a curtain, a glass du vin that would spill on the cream carpets.

Maman came home late that night. Her hair was tousled and she stumbled into the small house with empty rooms, giggling and taking lopsided steps. He could hear her, and he took two silent steps towards his bedroom door, wanting to surprise her, a tiny grin on his face and the paper rose in his hand. But Maman spoke, and he could smell the alcohol on her breath from the door.

“C’est ca-va, mon fils dort, et mon mari travaille, c’est ca-va.”

It’s okay, my son is asleep, and my husband is working. It’s fine.

“Certainement? Éve, ton fils est là?”

You’re sure? Éve, your son is here?

“Oui, oui. Mais c’est ca-va. Il dort. C’st ca-va. C’st ca-va.”

Sure, sure. But it’s okay. He’s ‘sleep. S’okay, s’okay.

He was still in the doorway, afraid to move, confused. He called out softly. “Maman?”

The end.

There was blood on the carpet the next morning, when Ary awakened. Papa held Ary in his arms, but not really. There was blood on Ary’s face. Where was Maman? There was blood on Papa’s hand, but it wasn’t Papa’s.

Ary wriggled out of Papa’s arms, and the arms fell limply, like rocks. He didn’t understand yet.

The napkin origami flower lay torn on the floor, by the rust-stain. Maman wasn’t in the house. Papa wasn’t responding.

A day passed. Ary liked the giraffe toy Maman had gotten him in Manhattan one time. He sat by the flower and played.

A day passed. Maybe Papa would like the giraffe toy, too. Maybe it would be like a medicine for him.

A day passed. Ary was hungry.

A day passed.

A day passed.

No change.

He went to school the next day. And something broke inside of him. Like the mirror with its feminine imperfections.

He stopped going home, or when he did, late at night. He stopped talking, and he saw all the wrongdoings in the clay-carved, marble-carved, stone-hearted children, all of the children, even beyond, with their twisted lives and views and selfishness.

And so it goes.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

Years.

She was the one who got him hooked. And before he had realized it, he was a fair artist.

Lydi was a tomboy, a childhood friend, who knew Ary before he broke. She had grown out of her overalls now, and her pixie-cut hair, but she was the one female the sullen boy could stand. At all.

They all made him sick, except Lydia-Elene.

She was leaning over his shoulder one day, careful not to let her silken golden sun-streaked hair fall over his sweater, lean too far into him that her figure would touch his shoulder blades. But he let her rest her chin on his shoulder and watch as he read.

“Ary,” she requested suddenly, “draw me.”

“Why would I do that,” he said dryly, not even dignifying her with a glance. The moon had fallen over the polluted city, the city that never sleeps, brighter than Maman’s hometime of lights. The park light overhead winked once, and the children so close to siblings fell silent again. Lydi rose and sat in front of Ary.

“Ary, pleeeease.”

“Why. I can’t draw.”

“I can’t do it myself, though.” Lydi stuck out her lower lip and pouted, trying and failing to successfully use puppy dog eyes on the stone boy.

Ary finally looked up. “Narcissist much?” he grumbled, but he took a notebook from his large bag beside him, and a pencil. “Why?”

“Need a self-portrait for art and need something to base it off of,” the girl said passively, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. Ary sighed and drew a light line on the paper.

The boy and the beauty sat silently together, Lydi still, watching the stars. Ary frowned and continued sketching.

Eventually he gave up, annoyed.

He shouted in frustration. “I can’t get it right!”

Lydi jumped, startled, and turned to her friend. Ary reluctantly gave her the paper, and she immediately burst into laughter.

“That… looks… nothing like me,” she gasped, tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

Ary snatched the paper back. “Shut up. Go home already.”

Lydi chuckled again and stood, looking at her watch. “Wah, it’s past eleven!” she exclaimed, grabbing her own satchel from the earth. “Okay, I’ll go home. You, too, little one.”

“I’m taller than you now,” he said, glaring at the girl, which prompted another grin. Lydi reached down, thought better of the hug she was going to offer, waved goodbye, then turned and skipped away. The lone wolf remained on the cold park bench, frowning. He took out another piece of paper and started to draw.

Lydi knew her friend needed to have everything exactly so. But it was still shocking when he showed her the sketch drawn the morning after.

He smothered a yawn and continued to draw, shortening the hair to chin length and curving the eyes to look more like almonds.”It’s not right yet,” he said again, darkening the hair a shade and cropping it shorter still, then frowning again and lengthening it.

“What, that still doesn’t look like me,” Lydi said, her most recent lover’s hand in hers. Because she was a cute girl, and flirtatious, even if she didn’t used to be.

The broken boy from the broken home glanced shortly at his shallower friend. “It’s not supposed to be.” He shuffled some papers around, handing her one before turning back to his drawing.

A photograph, really.

Lydi stood amazed, comparing the stick figure from the night before to this. “That was… fast.”

“But it’s not perfect yet. She’s not perfect yet.”

“Are you talking about me?” The girl pouted.

“No. Yes. I don’t know, all of them,” Ary grunted. Lydi shrugged, a little hurt, noticing she wasn’t going to get anything else out of him, and pulled her boyfriend away with the bell.

So. It was the girl with the hair like gold that first pleaded with the idealist to begin his healing.

Because the imperfections that Ary had created were girls, all of them. And it took forever to get them just so.

Mid-march, a new femme was introduced into the class.

Ailie. A meticulous girl as stubborn as stone. Lydi and she connected immediately.

“Please stop talking,” Ary had to beg one day, as Lydi continuously bragged about her new companion. “She sits next to me in class; please stop talking. I got it already.”

Lydi stuck out her tongue at him, but stopped.

The three would eat together, because of Lydi, and work on projects together. Ary didn’t speak much, or often look up, because of the girl and the nausea and his mother and memories and-

But it would be okay, because she was a quiet and still thing, and Lydi could do all the talking for both of them.

The paper girls started to have longer hair again, not very, but a little past shoulder length, with frizzy ringlet curls. Slowly, unnoticeably. Their eyes would grow darker and their hair a little more red, the smile a little wider and a little more crooked. They were beautiful. And, eventually, perfect.

He sighed and leaned back, smiling passively to himself, before tentatively peeking at the paper.

Good God, he’d drawn Her.

He froze, astonished and scared.

His chest ached, and his body suddenly felt like he was swimming or flying or both. He felt sick. Lydi looked at Ary’s paling face, looked at the paper in his hands, and looked back at her friend. Well. It was fortunate that he’d finally broken out of that shell, even if it wasn’t complete yet. But he really didn’t look great.

She snatched the paper from Ary’s hands and whispered to him, “Go home. It’s okay.”

He stood and ran away.

Lydi sighed. Maybe next time.

Once he recovered from the shock, once he recognized the feel of his heart and mind and soul, once he’d grown out of the sickness and Lydi had teased him enough, he started with small presents. A pretty feather that he found on the way to school that morning, an inexpensive necklace that reminded him of her, a flower, a seashell. He would talk shyly to her more, and brush against her “accidently” a little more often. He would daydream of kissing her, present to her an outfit that he’d caught her looking at on their weekends together as friends.

Of course. Friends.

That’s all they ever would be.

It was pathetic, really, that he was trying so hard to please her. She wouldn’t return his affection. She remained cold as stone, and if anything, she looked at him even less.

It was unbearable.

One morning, he actually did kiss her.

Just lightly, on the cheek, when they were strolling with Lydi along a small pretty street lined with stores. It was like the world went still for a minute.

Blood shot to his face immediately, and he blushed, turned, and sped off.

Lydi snorted, and Ailie stood next to her, uncomprehending of the past few minutes.

If only the boy had stayed a little longer, he might have seen her turn rouge as well.

The exasperated child turned to his first companion for advice, pleading as to how to make his love his lover, near tears.

Lydi wouldn’t speak, and Ary turned to bribery.

For his friend he bought a marble paperweight in the shape of a smiling, adorable cow, and one of those expensive candles with three wicks instead of one. Pleased, Lydi lit the candle and placed the tiny stone animal next to it, then told Ary her advice.

“Come on, Ary, are you just blind? Or are you really a total idiot? She already likes you.”

Ary blinked. Then it struck him, and he laughed angrily. Yeah, right. Ailie already liked him. Ha. The closest they would ever be would be comrades, and he’d kind of blown that chance with his little mess-up that weekend. He stormed away.

He didn’t sleep that night, and when Helios and Apollo met the sky again, he walked to school sullenly, alone and upset.

He crashed into the doorway. Or, well, maybe not a doorway, something softer.

Ailie looked at him, surprised, as he stared back, the same look on his face. The blush crept onto both of their faces again, and Ary tried to push past the girl into the room.

“Um!” she called over to him. He turned, expecting disappointment, and kept his face straight. “Can we… well, maybe… talk after school today?”

“Fine,” he replied coldly, his shell creeping back over him. It was going to be a long day.

They sat in silence, sipping their beverages at the cafe across the street from their high school. The boy at the table refused to meet the girl’s eyes.

“Ary… why did you kiss me?” Ailie asked shyly.

Ary snorted. “Really?” he said meanly, “you feel the need to ask me that? Really?”

Ailie fell silent again.

Ary sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your hair if you want. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, I guess.”

“O-oh, okay.” The girl looked close to tears. “Okay. Well, I’ll be right back then.” She stood and rushed away.

“No no no, wait!” Ary called anxiously, but the girl didn’t turn. He groaned, feeling like an idiot. Why was he so stupid sometimes?

“Ailie,” he said softly, seeking the girl out, “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I really-” his face turned red again- “really like you. I just didn’t want to tell you because I was worried that you didn’t like me.”

There was no answer, and the girl still sobbed quietly.

“Please look at me.”

Silence.

Ary, hesitating a little, leaned forward and kissed her cheek again. “Okay. I’ll stop now,” he said with a sigh, turning.

Ailie stood in place and, without looking at Ary, whispered, barely audibly, “Don’t go.”

He stayed.

An hour passed, just like that, and the girl with the flaming hair dried her eyes. “I… I like you, too.”

The pale boy with the dark hair and eyes stiffened, not sure if he had heard her right. “Like, like-like?”

“Mm,” she said in agreement.

Ary grinned, his cheeks reddening further. “Okay. Well. Um. Ailie. I. Um. I like you.”

The barest ghost of a smile crossed the girl’s face. “Like, like-like?”

“Yup.”

“Okay.”

They stood there for a minute longer.

“Ailie?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Ailie paused. “Okay.”

They kissed, and the boy’s shell fell off completely.

He’d never looked at them.

Well, he’d looked at them, obviously. But he didn’t flirt with them.

He didn’t need to.

Because, then and forever, he had his own in his arms, lovingly, tenderly, and smelling like springtime.

[deztinywarriors]

ES Spectre 2.0 Chapter 5-4