#madeleine marionette

[captainmvf]

Hip hip hooray! It’s your birthday! MM has an ice cream cake for you!

[ghoulnextdoor]

Full Circle Lady Vampire – Unquiet Things

In September of 2017, I posted a fancy lady vampire painting to my various social medias. opining that surely my friends had it in their hearts to pool their resources and purchase it for me to hang in my boudoir for all eternity, to the tune of a cool 14K. As it happened, no one loved me enough for that! Regardless, I never forgot her lovely, spoiled little face, and I continued the tradition of posting the painting every now and again over the ensuing years. I loved her so much that I wanted to include her in The Art of Darkness, but alas, Richard Bober, the artist, never answered even one of my approximate 90 billion emails. it was not to be.

Sometime in the year 2021, Handsome Devils Puppets and I started plotting and scheming on the idea of coaxing her off the canvas and transferring her soul into the floopy-limbed, fabulously attired vessel of a custom marionette, as a sister puppet for Sei Shōnagon and Maria Germaova.

The project began in earnest in June of 2023, a month after I had written a blog post that blew up everywhere and got a lot of attention, inquiring about the mysteriously unknown artist of an iconic book cover for a certain edition of a much-beloved book. I was privy to a lot of speculation and chatted quite frequently with the podcaster who was eventually to report on it; I’d pass along more guesses and suggestions that I was receiving from blog commenters and emails, and she’d share industry tidbits and whispers that she was amassing in her detective work. A name eventually emerged that one or two people seemed quite certain about, and though it was a bit of a wild ride getting there–it was eventually revealed that those eagle-eyed individuals were correct. Y’ALL. Richard freaking Bober –the artist responsible for my favorite gorgeous goldilocked vampire mean girl– was the artist who created THAT cover art for Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle In Time!!

That cover was something I wanted to include in The Art of Fantasy, but I thought, “Why bother? no one knows who the artist is; who would I even ask for permission?” But isn’t it funny that both these pieces of art caught my eye for various reasons, and without even realizing they were the same artist, I was hoping to have them in the pages of separate books?

I later learned through interviews with Richard Bober’s family and nephews that he was a bit of a recluse, and I don’t think he emailed much, so chances are, I was never going to receive a response to my inquiries anyway! And sadly, he died in late 2022, so he never lived to get proper credit for that book cover. From everything I’ve heard, though, I’m not sure he would have even cared!

So in a very roundabout way, this feels like it has come round full circle. Or looped around several times and tangled confusingly because I do tell a rambling story.

Anyway, isn’t she beautiful? She’s totally gonna steal my soul tonight. Worth it.

[pxeachfuzz]

is mrs. madeline a doll? tell me about mrs madeline..

yes and no! mrs. madeleine herself is technically the ghost of a supposedly very sophisticated opera singer. her ghost haunted a centuries old opera house that circuses operate out of now, but she used the doll as a host and that’s how she got her name! the doll also used to be a marionette puppet, but its strings were cut and it was sold under the guise of it being a “boudoir doll” since it’s about that style and size.

vasilis actually found the ghost when her “soul” was in a phonograph however! she bought it at some little shop somewhere for an astonishingly low price, and when she took it home it started to play music when there was no wax cylinder or carve cylinders by itself. at first she thought it was an issue with her using the wrong stylus, so this went on for several months LOL

eventually after vasilis moved to the city to start her circus career, she found the doll with the name mrs. madeleine at a local shop as well. she wanted to start her boudoir doll collection but she got her ghost friend’s body back instead :o) one thing she won’t find out for a while though is that the original puppet itself was by a local puppetmaker named “cyrus” and it was pawned off by an anonymous person after he passed away suddenly of unknown circumstances

for now though, vasilis just promises to make her life after death as comfortable as it can be (even if her demands are more than she can handle at times) :o)

[cicaklah]

Me in 2010 with acute PTSD, watching fringe episode 3x09 marionette: well I'm never watching that episode ever again if I know whats good for me.

Me in 2023, with PTSD in remission, watching fringe episode 3x09 marionette: whats in this box pandora it's so pretty oh no it's the horrors of the world, it's the curséd madeleines, it's the emotional beats of a long dead heart, the emotional nuclear semiotics of underrated science fiction series.

[ugfriends]

Italo Calvino said “Any reading list, I think, must begin with Pinocchio.” Scholar Giuseppi Prezzolini said “Pinocchio is the testing ground for foreigners; whoever understands the beauty of Pinocchio understands Italy.” So I know you are thinking isn’t this just Pinocchio like the 1940 Walt Disney animated film Pinocchio? Well yes and no the film is based on Carlo Collodi’s 1883 “The Adventures of Pinocchio” but the book is darker and full of archetypal meaning. It begins simply and very much in the mode of a fairy tale. “Once upon a time there was … “A king!” my little readers will say at once. No, children, you’re wrong. Once upon a time there was a piece of wood.“ When Pinocchio first becomes conscious it is not as a marionette he is a block of wood and Dante’s "I came to myself in a dark wood” is amusingly relevant as Collodi’s narrative progresses. The basic story here is about a puppet that after many adventures becomes a real boy. When Pinocchio meets the books main deus ex machina The Fairy with Turquoise Hair, La Fata dai Capelli Turchini, I am reminded a little of Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride. “Her eyes were closed and her hands crossed on her breast. With a voice so weak that it hardly could be heard, she whispered: "No one lives in this house. Everyone is dead.” “Won’t you, at least, open the door for me?” cried Pinocchio in a beseeching voice. “I also am dead.” “Dead? What are you doing at the window, then?” “I am waiting for the coffin to take me away.” The macabre elements in the book signal the reader that Collodi’s Pinocchio is not living in Disney World. Pinocchio is a madcap genius hurtled along at the pleasure and mercy of his desires, a renegade who in many ways resembles his near contemporary Huck Finn. The book although very much a folk tale or fairy tale seemingly anticipates future screen animation as this description of Geppetto’s house illustrates. “A fireplace full of burning logs was painted on the wall opposite the door. Over the fire, there was painted a pot full of something which kept boiling happily away and sending up clouds of what looked like real steam.” Collodi’s narrative moves along like a dream and the pace is breathless and riveting. Just as Proust experienced the involuntary recall of a childhood memory, when he tasted a madeleine dipped in tea, Citizen Kane’s “Rosebud” comes to mind as I see Collodi’s Pinocchio as a nostalgic pixyish homage to childhood.

[byneddiedingo]

Anne Brochet and Philippe Noiret in Masques (Claude Chabrol, 1987)

Cast: Philippe Noiret, Robin Renucci, Bernadette Lafont, Anne Brochet, Pierre-François Dumeniaud, Monique Chaumette, Roger Dumas. Screenplay: Odile Barski, Claude Chabrol. Cinematography: Jean Rabier. Production design: Françoise Benoît-Fresco. Film editing: Monique Fardoulis. Music: Matthieu Chabrol.

Masques shares the style (and the one-word title) of those 1960s romantic thrillers like Charade (Stanley Donen, (1963), Arabesque (Donen, 1966), and Kaleidoscope (Jack Smight, 1966) that inevitably got called "Hitchcockian." So it's not surprising that Chabrol, who recognized Hitchcock's genius when Hollywood still thought of him as just a popular entertainer, should cast an hommage to the director in their manner. Roland Wolf (Robin Renucci) is writing a biography of Christian Legagneur (Philippe Noiret), who hosts a cheesy TV talent/game show featuring senior citizens, so he comes to spend a week at Legagneur's estate near Paris. There he's introduced to a houseful of eccentrics: Legagneur's mute chauffeur/cook, Max (Pierre-François Dumeniaud); his secretary, Colette (Monique Chaumette); and a couple, Manu (Roger Dumas), a wine connoisseur who is helping stock Legagneur's cellar, and his wife (or perhaps mistress), who is a masseuse and reads tarot cards (Bernadette Lafont). (Lafont gets third billing after Noiret and Renucci, though hers is decided a secondary role, perhaps because she appeared in Chabrol's first film, Le Beau Serge, in 1958, and worked with him again several times during their long careers.) But most intriguing of all to Wolf is Legagneur's pretty young goddaughter, Catherine (Anne Brochet), who Wolf is told is recovering from a serious illness and is quite fragile. It's clear to the audience from Catherine's erratic behavior that she's drugged -- whether as part of her therapy or not is the question raised in Wolf's mind. For no one in this household is exactly what they seem, least of all Wolf, who, when he's alone in his room, removes a gun from his shaving kit and hides it on a shelf. On the shelf he finds a lipstick and with it, murmuring "Madeleine," he writes a large "M" on a mirror, then rubs it out. Madeleine, we will learn, is Wolf's sister, who is said to have quarreled with Catherine and then left on a trip to the Seychelles, which Wolf seriously doubts. Madeleine is also, of course, the name of the character played by Kim Novak in Hitchcock's Vertigo (1958), one of several "Easter eggs" for Hitchcockians left by Chabrol in the film. Legagneur's TV show, for another example, uses as theme music Gounod's "Funeral March for a Marionette," which was the theme music for Hitchcock's own TV show. Masques failed to find an American distributor when it was first released, and t's definitely minor Chabrol, but Noiret is terrific as the affably sinister Legagneur.

[madeleinecookie-fanaccount]

sometimes my best ideas come from when i am groggy and have just woken up, because this afternoon i woke up from a nap with an idea on potential uses of ovenbreak affection points (AP) in kingdom

i was thinking something like genshin’s (don’t come for me, i am an ex genshin player after all) friendship level story thing where you can unlock certain stories when you reach a certain amount of AP

i had this idea after reading alataurum’s “light’s marionette” on ao3 because they had an AMAZING depiction of espresso’s backstory. i really enjoyed it and damn i really wish it were canon

anyway, perhaps after reaching a certain story number with two characters with a bond (for example, you’ve unlocked story 4 with both espresso & madeleine) you can unlock joint stories about them, like say, an incident that happened in the kingdom with the characters.

overall this was just me rambling yet again, because i’d already started writing up my own backstories for the characters i love (mainly espresso & maddie)

maybe that’s why i like the characters so much? the flexibility from the unconfirmed canon on devsis’ part. it enables one to freely headcanon without much thought.

[dcbbw]

WIP Wednesday 6-24-2020

Thank you for the tags @bobasheebaby​, @ao719​ and @loveellamae​!

So, we all know I have a LOT of WIPS (a Q2 inventory is coming soon), and I know I haven’t yet responded to the lovely comments and reblogs , but I am making my way down my activity dashboard.

I am working on far more than what’s posted below and will hopefully have updates soon on your favorite fic(s).

Without futher ado, here you go! (Please note the Cordonian Arrangement sneak peek is slightly NSFW)

When We Were Young (a MoTY fic):

I know, I know! I don’t write MoTY! We can all blame @ao719​ for this!

Two Years Ago, Thomas

Thomas Mendez sat in the dark at his kitchen table. A glass of scotch was loosely latched in his hand; the bottle sat on the table, half empty. It had been full when he pulled it from the cupboard. He still wore his black suit, but his tie hung from the back of Soledad’s chair and his shirt was unbuttoned from his throat to his chest.

His daughter Luz was spending the night with his parents. She needed hugs, kisses, reassurances.

Thomas had none to give.

Earlier today, they had put the love of his life, his soulmate … his wife in the ground. She had been the apple of his eye and the heart of their home. And she was gone. Her sparkling eyes, bright smile, and soft, curvy body was locked away in a box and buried deep in the earth.

And he was left alone to raise their daughter, and somehow still live his life.

Thomas drunkenly studied his glass, noticing only a few drops remained. His arm was slightly shaking as he reached out to pour more scotch; his grip slipped and overturned the bottle. Scotch poured over the tablecloth before Thomas managed to right the bottle; the pungent aroma of Johnnie Walker Black filled the room as Thomas sadly chuckled.

“You could’ve found a better way of telling me it’s time for bed, sweetheart.”

And then he burst into tears.

DC AU, Chapter 5—So Close to Heaven:

“They’re all bitches,” Olivia declared tipsily.

“Amen to that!” Madeleine raised her glass of wine; it tilted dangerously over the tablecloth.

Leo pulled on his bottle of Kingfisher; he set it down carefully, then began scraping crispy spinach onto his plate. Plates and bowls of curry, kebabs, tandoori chicken, lamb biryani, pork vindaloo, and naan covered the table.

“So wait, who are we kicking out?”

“All their asses,” Maxwell said, his words slurring slightly.

“Then why don’t we just leave?” Madeleine frowned in confusion.

“Because they need to be kicked out! Fuckers!” Olivia tried to eat some lamb, but it kept falling off her fork.

“Well, I say we keep Riley. Her potato salad is really good, and she gives up the car keys with no problem,” Leo said.

“And I do work with her …” Maxwell pointed out.

“So, we keep Riley. What about Liam and Drake?”

“Oh, they can go. Right now! Drake’s an ass. If he did that shit to Riley, who knows what he’ll do to us!” Maxwell declared quickly.

Leo looked at Maxwell, a hint of annoyance on his face. “Is Drake fucking you too?”

Maxwell shook his head vigorously. “NO!”

“Then you’re safe to go to Target with his ass.”

Anton, Chapter 5—Suspicions

“Not the monarch you were expecting?” Olivia asked with a knowing smirk on her lips.

Riley shook her head. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

Olivia appraised Riley with cool green eyes before nodding her head towards a set of balcony doors. “Cigarette before the circus starts?”

“Sure.” Riley led the way, and shortly the two women were outside in the warm morning air, smoking cigarettes.

Silence hung between them, but not an entirely uncomfortable one. Olivia finally spoke.

“You should have married Liam, you know. At least then you three are only embarrassing yourselves, and not me.”

“You didn’t have to marry him,” Riley reminded her.

Olivia dragged deeply, the tip of her cigarette glowing orange; her eyes stayed fixed on the landscaped garden below.

“The Crown has taken from me. From all of us, really.” Her eyes lifted and cut to Riley. “Except you.” She tapped a long column of ash.

“It took my parents. Tried to take my duchy. It took Drake’s parents. And Liam …, “ her voice trailed off as she put her cigarette out. “You now, I often wonder what my life would be like if a King who wasn’t even good enough to be called Commoner had just not fucked with it.”

“What do you mean?” Riley had put her cigarette, and was toying with her pack, debating another one.

“What if Constantine had just focused on being a fair ruler, rather than a tyrant chasing down rumors and creating enemies? What if my parents were still alive? What if I actually knew I had a husband, and we were allowed to get to know each other? Instead of him trying to overthrow the government and kill me?”

“If that had happened, perhaps you wouldn’t be Queen.”

Olivia shrugged. “Who knows who would be on the throne. Maybe Leo’s pussy ass would have hung around.”

Cordonian Arrangement, Chapter 2—Between Two Thighs (slightly NSFW)

Riley sat in the chair, trying to drown out the sounds of her lover and her husband rutting like dogs. Hana’s moan captured her attention; she turned to see them both looking at her; Hana’s eyes closed in pleasure as her hips bucked against Liam’s. Liam’s hands squeezed Hana’s breasts, his fingers twirling erect nipples as his eyes stayed trained on Riley.

She knew what he wanted, what Hana needed: for Riley to participate in some fashion. She was the puppeteer, orchestrating their strings with just a look. An arched eyebrow, and Liam would quicken his thrusts, the staccato of skin upon skin becoming a rhythm they would all dance to. A blank expression brought jerkiness to their movements as they became unsure if their performance were up to par. A lick of her lips and narrowing of her eyes, and Liam and Hana responded to each other and to Riley. Teeth would nip skin, fingers would grab hips, thrusts became erratic and unsteady; the marionettes would forget they were tied to strings and climax. Once they were spent and laying in a heaving tangle. Riley would quietly leave.

Her role in this aspect of their arrangement was done and forgotten by all. Until next time.

 What are you working on @bbrandy2002​ @katedrakeohd​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @anotherbeingsworld​ @blackcatkita​ @ritachacha​ @boneandfur​

[chibimyumi]

Art Report – ‘Elisabeth 2019’ TOHO ACT 2

【Click here for Act 1 】

“Kitsch!”

Act 2 commenced, and the audience was greeted by the radiant presence of Yamazaki’s Lucheni. He was dressed as a merchant who sold souvenirs of the Imperial Family in light of the Hungarian coronation. Lucheni held a tray with merchandise, including mugs and plates with Elisabeth’s print on it. The luckiest people sitting at the very front were lucky enough to receive these gifts from Lucheni personally.

Lucheni warned the people that even though Elisabeth’s beauty was enough to literally enchant a nation into submission, one should not be fooled by her looks. Behind her beauty, a true egoist resided.

The Coronation

Lucheni lead us back into the 19th century, and finally the curtains rose. Franz I and Elisabeth were crowned King and Queen of Hungary, and the Hungarian people cheered. The King and Queen were lead on a chariot that gradually turned towards the audience. It weren’t normal horses that pulled the chariot, but Death Angels disguised as horses. The Death dancers’ dance was phenomenal. These Death Angels have always been one of my favourite parts about the Japanese version of ‘Elisabeth’. Sometimes they are minions of Der Tod, sometimes they are the noble guards. Furutod’s Death Angels did not seem sentient to me. The way they moved was so perfectly in sync with everything Furutod did, they felt more like the extension of his limbs, much like Sebas’ black miasma.

The one who held the reigns of the chariot was of course none other than Der Tod himself. Like he foretold Elisabeth in Act 1, her presence would lead Franz’ Empire into ruins. Who would be more suitable to steer the Royal chariot onto the path towards the Underworld than Der Tod himself?

Lord of the Leeeegs

Furutod sat very majestically at the front, and his leeegs just went on forever. According to Death Angel Okazaki Hiroki, once when he was dancing underneath the the chariot and he jumped up just a bit higher than otherwise. But his boss’ legs were too long, so the poor man bumped his head into Furutod’s solid heel. I heard that after that performance, Furukawa changed his pose, and sat with his legs to the side. ( ´艸｀)

“When I wish to Dance”

After the coronation, Elisabeth was full of confidence and declared her victory to Der Tod.

♪♬ E: I won, did I not? T: Victory is mine E: Mine. I made people acknowledge me T: The world shall move according to my whims, as I dictate E: It is for nobody’s sake but my own T: You did so for my sake. But you did indeed outwit your enemy and for now you triumph E: I was once made to dance like a marionette, but now I have paved my own path. Even on my own I shall dance, and only when I wish to, to the music of my choice. When I dance, even at the moment my life ends, I shall dance, before you and beyond your reach. ♪♬

Here, Elisabeth provoked Der Tod, at one point even extending her hand as she walked down the stairs. Der Tod got down on one knee and extended his hand, but Elisabeth retracted her own, and gave him a vindictive smile instead.

This was a very impressive scene, as well as the perfect execution of what Furukawa said in this interview: "As Death, I wish to provoke Elisabeth and give her the energy to live on in their game. I hope I will manage to communicate [on stage] how Death is an entity who gives Elisabeth life energy, except that the controls are ultimately in his hands.”

Indeed, just like Elisabeth’s line “it is for nobody’s sake but my own” and Der Tod’s reply: “you did so for my sake”, we see how these two characters stimulate each other to constantly play up their own games in outwitting the other. Perhaps Elisabeth might have given up before, but if she had, then she would have given Der Tod the satisfaction of having an easy victory. Perhaps she did not really want to live on for her own sake, perhaps she just wanted to prove to Der Tod she was better. If that were true, then Der Tod’s reply would indeed have rang very true.

Elisabeth was confident enough to not fall for Der Tod’s seductions anymore after his previous unsuccessful attempt in Act 1. She boldly swung the tail of her dress and pranced off stage.

Furutod had to reconsider his options now that seducing Sissi was out of the window. Luckily for Der Tod, the new option presented itself on a silver platter.

“Mama, Where are You?”

Enter child Rudolf who had been whipped and beaten into isolation from his mother.

♪♬ “Mama, where are you? Can you hear my voice? I am so cold, please hold me But everyone says that I am nothing but your burden And that I can’t be with you” ♪♬ - Child Rudolf

Rudolf had been pushed towards despair and insanity. His only company was a loaded pistol, and he even sung: “in order to test my courage, yesterday too I killed a cat.”

Der Tod knew that Rudolf would be his ultimate ace card to obtain his current favourite toy, and manifested before the child. Rudolf was startled, and asks: “who is this?” Furutod gave him a gentle smile and took the pistol from his hands, and replied in a soothing voice: “I am your friend.”

Furutod - The Shapeshifter

Furutod’s performance in the scene with child Rudolf was phenomenal to say the least. Though Der Tod had mostly been masculine-coded, once he manifested before Rudolf, he morphed into a willowy and feminine figure.

‘Death’ is understood differently by everyone. In the musical ‘Elisabeth’, Der Tod mostly shows himself in relation to suicidal persons. Suicidal tendency - when roughly translated -  is ‘yearning’ for death. We know explicitly that Rudolf yearned most for his mother, and thus we may understand that Furutod morphing into a motherly figure was him taking shape as the thing that Rudolf yearns for.

Through contrast, we also suddenly understand what Elisabeth had been yearning for. The way Furutod carried himself in front of Elisabeth was masculine and confident. Here we realise what Elisabeth longed for: namely a man who would respect her autonomy. She was very much in love with her husband at the beginning, but Franz’ spinelessness and lack of respect for her autonomy was quite a deal breaker.

On the other hand, ‘death’ is also ‘fear’ to most people. Elisabeth’s fear was to have her autonomy taken away. We did indeed also see how every time Furutod failed, it was because he crossed Elisabeth’s boundaries and scared her.

Please compare the following drawings of Furutod’s body language of when he is with Rudolf (at his most feminine) vs when he is at his most masculine (Dr. Seeburger** Will discuss later.)

Hyper Detailed Acting

Furukawa is famous for his hyper detailed acting, and he obviously paid the same attention for detail to playing Der Tod.

Rudolf rejoiced as he finally found someone, anyone at all, he could talk to, and continued his song at the bottom of the stage, while Furutod remained on the platform. Furutod’s eyes never left the child during the song. He was constantly fidgeting with the pistol, and it was very clear that he was carefully weighing all his options in getting Elisabeth.

Then, a glint appeared in Furutod’s eyes. As dictated by the script, Der Tod would point the pistol at Rudolf. All Der Tods I know of had pointed the mouth of the pistol at the child. Furutod however, aimed with the grip of the pistol instead.

Herewith, Furukawa brilliantly foreshadowed that Der Tod was not going to kill Rudolf, but instead make Rudolf commit suicide by shooting himself in the head.

The Madhouse

The madhouse was a very powerful scene. Elisabeth was a VERY clever woman who studied her history. She knew of her royal consort senpais that the being a woman in public eyes was a very hard job. She knew that queens like Marie Antoinette were hated for spending too much money, while other queens were criticised for not living up to the royal reputation by being too economical.

Elisabeth managed to find a perfect middle ground; she would spend a lot of money like a proper royalty, but she would spend it on education, hospitals, madhouses, and other such beneficial places. “Whaddya gonna say then, huh?”

Elisabeth would likewise pay personal visits to madhouses, showing her care. In the madhouse, she encountered a woman who thought she was the Empress herself; Windisch. Windisch glorified the Empress’ life, but to Elisabeth it was but a very sour parody of her miserable existence.

♪♬ “ If only I were really you The only thing about you that is chained is your body But your soul is free. That’s right, you’re free I have been fighting every war, but what did I win? All I won is solitude I can no longer stand this I feel like I am going mad I could walk on, but where am I headed to, I cannot see I cannot see anything” ♪♬

Madam Wolf and Madeleine

Despite Sissi’s inner torment, on the outside she was more successful than ever, and Sophiezilla hated how her son had become Sissi’s puppet instead of hers.

She blamed Sissi for having enchanted her son with her beauty, and was desperate to do something about it. She and her ministers had an idea. “An eye for an eye, a woman for a woman”. ♪♬

Sophie and her ministers arrange for a secret clandestine meeting between Franz and the most beautiful women of Austria. They invite Madam wolf to bring her girls. The most beautiful sex worker Madeleine - “the most ardent at her work, and carries an ‘occupational disease’“♪♬  - would be the one to enchant Franz instead

Franz was powerless against Madeleine’s charms and eagerness.

Dr. Seeburger

Sissi realised that the power she held was due to her beauty, and that the moment her beauty faded, so would her power. She maintained a spartan exercise- and diet-routine to maintain her small waist to the point of becoming anemic, and fainted.

Enter Dr. Seeburger. It was Der Tod of course (who probably punched the real doctor K.O., stole his clothes and shoved him into the broom closet).

Here Furutod was exceptionally manly; his voice was low and growly, and his movements big and difficult, as though he were an old man. Furutod here was so manly that in comparison, even his earlier masculine-coded behaviour seemed entirely gender neutral. I really, really love how Furutod was gender-fluid in performance. Why would ‘death’ have a gender anyway?

Dr. Seeburger sat down on the bench where Sissi was lying, manspreading his leeeeegs as he undid her corset and ribbon. (It was very creepy, but also sexy... not gonna lie...)

♪♬ T: Let me feel your pulse E: I am fine T: You have a light fever E: It’s normal T: How pale the colour of your face. The symptoms of that disease have started to show ♪♬ - Dr. Seeburger

“It is the French disease”

Sissi sprang up at Dr. Seeburger’s diagnosis, and claims it is impossible because she knew her husband to be many things, but not unfaithful.

♪♬ T: He too is but a mortal man E: He would never betray me T: And yet it is true E: If that is true , then I shall leave this palace! ♪♬  - Elisabeth

“No, I shall take my own life,” Sissi said, and Der Tod smirked and undid his disguise. Furutod didn’t waste another second to shed his ‘old skin’ and jumped onto the bench with swiftness previously unseen. “I have been waiting for this!”

♪♬ T: “Now is the time to welcome you to the the netherworld! Come with me, the one who truly loves you!“ E: No, wait! From now on I will shut my heart from him If he committed any sin, it means that I'll be free! T: Stop pretending, you bear no love for him The one you truly love is no one other than me! E: You're wrong! I will not dance with you yet” ♪♬

Again with renewed determination to live, Sissi successfully kept death at a distance.

Rudolf

Rudolf meanwhile had reached adulthood, but was never able to free himself from the Imperial family’s chains.

Miura Ryosuke’s (Joker) Rudolf was especially broken. Most other Rudolfs I have seen so far still had some battle spirit in them and truly believed they might succeed. Miuradolf however seemed to be convinced that everything would be in vain anyway, and was merely compelled to fight by external circumstances.

Rudolf strongly disagreed with his father’s way of ruling and was convinced that only joining the opposition and establishing a new Danube State would save the Habsburg rule. Franz warned his son that if he dared to become an ‘extremist’, he would take away his right of succession.

Rudolf was desperate, because on the one hand, the extremists (later the Nazis) did indeed have ideas that benefited the economy of Austria, but on the other hand, their extremist ideas were very hard to ignore. Rudolf sank to the floor.

Then, Furutod appeared again, literally helping Rudolf back onto his feet. When he asked Rudolf whether he still remembered him, he showed the pistol he took from him in his childhood before safely tucking it away again, as though saying: “I protected you back then, and now too I’ll protect you from harm.”

♪♬ T: The time of this long slumber has ended Do you still remember? That promise we made when you were just a child that when you need me I'll appear before you R: I would never forget a friend, it's just that I am... so consumed by fear that I am about to break T: I am now beside you! ♪♬

Rudolf was scared shitless and could only back away, but Furutod knelt down and caressed Rudolf when he was about to give up on the rebellion against his father.

♪♬ “Misfortune is drawing near, are you truly fine with looking on? Oh, my future Emperor.” ♪♬

Rudolf liked being addressed as Emperor alright, and quickly he scraped whatever energy he had left to stand up.

The Hungarian Rebellion

Under Rudolf (manipulated by Der Tod) the Hungarian revolution went smoothly. When the revolutionaries finally seemed to be reaching their goal, the Death Angels revealed the Imperial guards arrival at the scene. The Revolutionaries try to flee, but the Death Angels guided them towards the guards one by one. When Rudolf found a window for escape, Furutod spun him at his heel and showed him Elemer who was wounded, causing him to miss his only chance for escape.

Rudolf too was arrested and brought back to his father. His father was utterly disappointed and seemed determined to strip him of his succession right.

“Mama, You and I are like Mirror Reflections”

Rudolf was in despair, but fortunately his mother had just returned home since forever. Rudolf begged his mother to help him change the Emperor’s mind, but Sissi feared for her own skin, and rejected her son.

Most Rudolfs in this scene fell to their knees to beg Sissi ( like Kimura Tatsunari did ⇈ ), singing the song in a genuine plea. Miuradolf however was already beyond hope. He did not kneel, instead he remained standing and his own song seemed to lack any effort. It was like he knew his mother would reject him anyway, so why bother trying?

When Sissi rejected Miuradolf, he merely sighed and looked up. “Mama too abandons me...” in a tone of utter defeat.

Mayerling Incident

Now that Rudolf stopped seeing the point of living, Furutod appeared again.

“You wish to die?”

All Der Tods I have seen so far said the line “you wish to die?” either indifferently, or excitedly. Furutod however, spoke it in the SADDEST and most DISAPPOINTED tone ever! As though he could not believe the ‘ultimate key’ he selected was so spineless. As though he was disappointed that the son of the human he loved for her determination would give up so easily.

Furutod took a deep breath, and suddenly all enthusiasm in his eyes disappeared. The Death Angels appeared and ripped Rudolf’s jacket off. Furutod took out the pistol again, and the Mayerling dance started.

Furutod was mocking Rudolf, abusing his privilege of leeegs and aaaarms to keep the pistol outside Rudolf’s reach. He did so while wearing the most disappointed expression that had ever disgraced Furukawa’s face. It was as though Furutod was hoping that Rudolf would show a tenth of the vigour his mother did, and would try a bit harder to get that damn pistol.

But alas, all Rudolf did was basically begging Der Tod to stop the teasing. Miura’s performance was splendid, I’ve never seen any Rudolf as defeated before on stage. Furutod who suffered from ‘lethal apathy’ however, HATED it.

Der Tod stopped seeing the fun and just handed Miuradolf the pistol. Furutod was beyond cruel; he seemed to have concluded that if Miuradolf wanted to think himself as such a sad puppy, he’d let him. With pity in his eyes he caressed Rudolf’s cheek. When Miuradolf seemed somewhat uplifted to at least have affection from ‘his friend’, Furutod dropped his compassionate act, and made it a bit too clear to Rudolf that he was but ‘a boring nuisance’.

Miuradolf kissed Der Tod, but the latter did not even bother kissing him back.

Other Rudolfs - Kyoumoto and Kimura

I did not see the two other Rudolfs, but I heard that Kyoumoto’s Rudolf managed to anger Furutod so much, he bitchslapped him before kissing him at one point, and did not even bother looking at Rudolf as he blasted his own brains out.

Kimura’s Rudolf was apparently the only one who offered sufficiently much challenge/entertainment, and he was the one Furutod hated least.

Entertaining or not, Furutod still took Kimuradolf’s life as he really was nothing but a means to an end. I heard that as such, Kimuradolf was all the more hurt when his ‘friend’ appeared to have heartlessly used and betrayed him.

Kimuradolf was allegedly the only Rudolf Furutod bothered ‘seeing off’.

Rudolf’s Funeral

Sissi knew that if she had not rejected her son to save her own skin, then he might have been alive. She begged Furutod to take her life, and he seemed very content that he was about to win.

♪♬ “You took my son from me... Do not let me wait for any longer... do not let me suffer... I'll give it to you... take my life...! End my misery!” ♪♬ - Elisabeth

Furutod leaned in to kiss Sissi, but he saw that she merely longed for death only to escape life.

♪♬ “You do not really desire me!” ♪♬ - Der Tod

He was SO angry his face contorted and his hands were shaking! “How DARE you fool MOI!? I am the one to toy with people, NOT the other way around!”

Nightmare

After being a rejected by Sissi, Furutod had been behaving like a total baby. He had started a death orchestra where he plotted the death of one Habsburger after another. Franz found himself in this nightmare, where the Maestro - Furutod - stood on the platform, conducting the deaths of his family.

♪♬ F: Where is my Empress? T: Elisabeth belongs to me F: She is MY wife! Know some shame! T: But the one she desires is me F: I gave her everything I have T: And yet only I can give her the one thing she wants, freedom! F: I need to save my wife! T: But only I can truly save her F: If she had wanted you, she would already have been yours! ♪♬

Furutod was like: “enough. I’ll show you. I can take anything I want, I am mofo DEATH”. Here Furukawa raised his hand and ‘wiped’ his beautiful mask off his face, and revealed the monster underneath. (I fear that my art can’t really express how terrifying and GOOOOOD the symbolism was...)

♪♬ “Lucheni! Quick, come and take it!” ♪♬

Normally it is a bit hard for me to see how Elisabeth would go from rejection, denial and plain defeatism to ‘yes, I’m okay with dying!’. But now because Furutod had decided that the game is over, Elisabeth’s death was just everything abiding the law of nature.

Elisabeth’s Assassination

Furutod had sent Lucheni to assassinate Sissi. Lucheni merely walked up to her, stabbed the dagger he had received from the boss into Sissi’s torso. The historical Sissi’s corset was so tight that she did not even notice she had been stabbed, and walked on as though nothing happened.

In the musical, her assassination also happened quite matter-of-factly, except that this time, it is because Der Tod had decided he was not interested in the game anymore; so there was nothing anybody could do to stop him.

Sissi entered the Underworld again where Der Tod welcomed her.

♪♬ T: The time has come to welcome you to the nether world... E: Please take me with you, to the far away world of the dark to the place where my free soul can be at peace Both: If it is farewell to this sinking world anyway then embark on an eternal journey where time never ends E: I have cried, laughed, been disheartened and I have prayed There had been days where I tasted defeat in my senseless battle Regardless, I have entrusted my life to myself alone T:Regardless, you entrusted your life to me alone ♪♬

Furutod was the perfect prince charming again. Like he did before, he only guided Elisabeth with his finger tips, and gently caressed her hands. He let Elisabeth take the initiative of embracing and kissing him, and he kissed back very romantically.

When Elisabeth died and her body fell limp however, Furutod dropped his prince charming act. He transformed from lover to conqueror.

Furutod took Sissi’s body and rammed her into the grave, pinning her there like a bio-specimen🦋. Oh boy, was he happy.

The moment he had her however, he seemed to have lost interest again. The game was fun for as long as it lasted, but what next?

Never mind, he won, that’s what counted. Furutod turned to the audience, and struck a pose telling us that he is mofo ‘DEATH’. "If you’re interesting enough you might be able to avoid me, for a bit.  But don’t you think you can escape me.”

Then he retracted three fingers of the hand he had raised, and pointed at the audience. I personally could not see it as anything else but: “You’re next.”

“Later, maybe. No? Never.”

Like I said before in the report of Act 1, Furutod is easily the cruelest and the most skin crawling Der Tod I have ever seen.

He is like a little kid who’s spoiled beyond reason. But indeed, he is ‘death’. ‘Death’ is the biggest force of nature nobody can avoid, so it makes sense that Furutod never learned how to deal with rejection.

Concretely, Furutod’s mindset is: “Later, maybe. No? Never”.

The sketch below summarises the entire existence of Furutod and the musical ‘Elisabeth 2019′.

(Doll Marie-Antoinette and Mozart on the ground, as he throws old favourite doll Sissi away.)

[cordoniantrash]

Once Upon Another Time: Chapter One

AU: In another time where the brothers Beaumont did not reach Cassandra in time, the waitress turned lady went back to New York to rebuild her old life. After finding an unexpected souvenir, she set off and joined her long lost family. Four years later, a newly divorced King of Cordonia arrives in New York in hopes of reuniting with his beloved. Instead of Cassandra, all he found was a postcard with the word Edgewater written on the back.

Hey guys! Thank you so much for all the positive feedback and the tag requests. Hopefully there’d be some answers to some of your questions. Anyways here’s chapter one, grammatical errors are mine. Do let me know what you guys think. 

Also big thanks my beta @thequeennefertipi!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, Pixleberry has that privilege, title for both the series and the chapter titles, plus the epigraphs are from Sara Bareilles’ discography  

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: hints of infidelity

Words: 2183

Chapter One: No Such Thing

No such thing as over you

I don’t want it anyway

I wouldn’t even try to

Four years later, the present time

Breaking news: 

The international community and royal enthusiasts alike are abuzz with the latest news from the country of Cordonia. After a year of bitter law battles and countless speculation from both the public and the media, the Palace has finally announced that the Royals are now divorced, despite the fight that the now-former queen had put up. Lady Kiara Thorn, the Palace’s Speaker, had announced irreconcilable differences as the cause of the separation. King Liam and the newly reinstated Countess Madeleine are not available for comment at present but the Palace has announced that a press conference is in the works to answer the public’s questions…

----

Liam leaned back to his chair with a sigh. Well, that’s done, he thought. In the background, the news continued its coverage on what his stepmother had deemed to be the greatest scandal the monarchy had ever encountered. He didn’t have the heart to tell her of the various boxes of evidence that his father had left behind. 

His desk was littered with notes for the upcoming press conference, yet he was still at a loss as to what he’d say. He knew that the press would come after him, with Madeleine painting herself to be the saintly long-suffering wife. The Sigyn to his Loki. The Hera to his Zeus. Liam huffed out a laugh at the thought. Madeleine being compared to those goddesses is a disservice to those deities. 

Things were never that simple. Things, events and circumstances weren’t as black and white as people make them out to be. Liam had tried. For the past four years, he reminded himself that he had a duty to his people and his country. Liam had pretended. He was the King. He smiled and played along with the sham that is his marriage until he couldn’t take it anymore. He waited until the economy was stable, his people content, and his father long dead and finally said no more, damn the consequences. Liam had tried to steal himself and fulfil his duty for the kingdom had to have an heir and a queen he had told himself.

But he just couldn’t. Every time he tried to convince himself that he had to go to Madeleine and perform his royal duties, he was beset by the heavy feeling that he’s committing a betrayal and the guilt that has become his constant companion would close in. He’d find some urgent matter, some event that he must attend, anything just to get away from his wife by law. Madeleine had tried to insult his manhood every time he refused, but she had learned quickly that those had no effect. He had already committed a betrayal; he won’t add another wrong to the list of sins he had committed against his beloved. 

Madeleine had asked him to get over her years ago. Then she saw the look in his eyes. She never asked again. 

His eyes were drawn to an invitation that his secretary had left at his desk earlier that day. It was for another UN function. Maybe losing himself in his work is not such a bad idea. The fact that it was to be held in New York, a city he held dear (for it reminded him of her), is just a bonus. 

----

Four years ago, New York

Pure unbridled rage. That was all Liam could feel when he first laid his eyes on Tariq for the first time in months. The nobleman had agreed to a press conference that would clear Cassandra’s name, but Liam still wanted to scream and rage. 

The rational part of him knew that his own father was at fault. That Constantine was the puppet master and Tariq was one of the unfortunate marionettes, but another part of him wanted to punch and shake his old friend. This was the monster that violated Cassandra in her own room. Constantine might have pulled the strings, but it was Tariq who still went ahead and fulfilled his father’s twisted plan. 

His old friend had looked at him with weary eyes. It took all of his self-control to turn around and walk out of that room. He had walked out of the hotel, dismissing his guards saying that he needed to clear his head.

He had wandered around aimlessly when he realized where his feet had led him. It was her old bar. With a heavy heart, he entered the establishment. What’s one more heartache? He asked himself.

His unspoken question was answered that night.

He found nothing.

She was gone.

The next day his father sat him down and the little flicker of hope in his chest sputtered and died.

----

Edgewater Estate, the present time

An insistent tugging pulled her out of her dreams. Cassandra internally groaned. She hadn’t had a proper night’s rest since Uncle Charlie had badgered her about Cordonia. Why he wanted that ambassadorial post in that particular country is beyond her. She’d told him that the courtiers there would eat him alive, but her well-meaning cousin just smiled and changed the subject.  I practically volunteered to help him anyway, so this is partly my fault. Can’t have him devoured by those vultures. Helping family had been fulfilling, but it also meant staying up well into the evening, something that she hadn’t done since the baby had turned three.

She felt the mattress dip slightly as a weight clumsily climbed on her bed. Cassie groggily opened her eyes and was immediately met with a pair of familiar brown eyes. For a moment she was with him in another time and another place, but then the little terror opened his mouth and the memory vanished. 

“Moooommmyyyy…. Mommy. Mommy! Wake up!”

“No…” she groaned. Hoping to get a few more seconds of sleep she pulled the duvet over her head. A pair of little hands yanked it back.

“You said we’d go to the fishes today!”

“Later, love. I’d said we’ll go later today. It’s still too early.”

“Nuh-uh. Grandma Clara’s up!” he said as he bounced a little on the bed then he added, “She’s got pancakes!”

“God, why are you so chipper in the morning,” Cassandra grumbled. “You and your grandma should tone it down.” She sighed as she reluctantly sat up. Beside her with his dark hair still mussed from sleep, wearing pyjamas decorated with fishes was the light of her life. 

“Morning mommy!” he half-shouted as he bounced her bed again. “Can we go see the fishes now?”

“Breakfast first then fishes. How’s that?”

His little face scrunched up. Cassandra couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. His resemblance to Liam was more obvious when he did that. She stood up and scooped the little terror into her arms. He’s getting heavy, she thought with a pang. I might not get to do this for much longer.

“C’mon baby, let’s go eat pancakes.”

----

Four years ago, the Edgewater Estate

Edgewater wasn’t as old as she’d thought. It wasn’t new either. It was a grand estate set on sprawling grounds. In the distance, she could just make out trees. Do they have an honest to god forest in this place? Cassandra thought bemused. 

The manor was a far cry from the ones she had seen in that other place which was a relief. What’s more, was that she could easily imagine her Gran growing up in this place. Grandma Cece had always seemed too prim and proper for New York with her love for high tea, her ever-present string of pearls and her polished English accent. She put her hand on her belly, this isn’t a bad place for you to grow, she thought.

“It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” 

Suddenly aware that she was gaping, Cassie quickly turned to the woman beside her. “Um. Yeah.”

Aunt Clara smiled. When they met back at the airport, Cassandra had been taken aback with how much Aunt Clara and Grandma Cece had resembled each other. Hair the same shade of brown, an aquiline nose, with slightly tanned skin and hazel eyes although, Aunt Clara might be slightly shorter than Gran. We have the same chin, Cassie noted and the same curls, other than that there are few similarities. Cassandra had taken after her father after all. Aunt Clara added:

“It’s been in our family for centuries. Did you know we can trace our lineage back all the way to the Norman Conquest? We’re one of the few remaining families that can do so.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened “Oh, wow. I mean – that’s fascinating!”

“It is, yes. Would you like a tour?”

“Oh, sure! I’d love that!”

“I’ll be sure to give you one when you’re settled then. In the meantime, I’d like you to meet my children.”

A few weeks later

Cassandra sat at an armchair. The TV was showing what the media had dubbed as the wedding of the year. She stared. Her mind was suddenly numb. What’s left of her heart was breaking. There were no tears left. He really did it, she thought through the daze in her mind. He married her. For a while, she had held onto hope. Maybe with her Aunt’s help, she’ll be able to reach him. Be able to face him. 

But he married her. Madeleine. Scandal-free Madeleine. 

He’s married.

He has forsaken her. Discarded her. 

Her hands found her little baby bump. 

It’s just you and me now. 

----

Present-day, New York. 

Liam stood by the bar, his mind filled with memories. Back to another night four years ago. A sudden sound made him aware of his surroundings. Staring at him, eyes wide was a well-dressed man. Liam stared back. His face seemed familiar. Then it came to him. Cassie’s friend.

With a squeak, the man made for the door behind him but Liam was faster. With a leap, he reached Cassandra’s friend and grabbed his arm.

“Let go!” he exclaimed.

“Wait! I’m so sorry, but I need to ask you something. That’s it!”

“Then let go!”

“Only if you promise not to run.”

“Fine. Now let go!”

The next hour was a blur to Liam. A thought played on a loop inside his mind. She’s gone. She’s gone, and it’s your fault. It’s because of you. Of what you didn’t do. 

He looked at the postcard in his hands. A single word was written on the back. Edgewater. 

----

The Countess

Countess Clara Harper of Edgewater relaxed into her chair with a satisfied sigh. With a warm cup of coffee cradled in her hands, she looked over the estate’s garden with a smile on her face. She had just sent off her sister’s great-grandson off to wake his mother up. She chuckled at the thought. Oh, if only you could see us now Cecelia. 

Great things do come to those who wait. After years of next to no contact, her family is back living under one roof. Oh, Father would turn in his grave right now, she thought with a smile, I don’t particularly care. She might not have seen her sister for the last time and met her niece in the flesh, but they live on in Cassandra and her little bundle of joy. It’s been so long since this place had children running down its halls.

With another sigh, she recalled her grandniece’s first days on the estate. How the poor dear had taken to wandering the halls and grounds, all the while cradling her barely-there bump. Clara’s blood boiled at how those nobles had treated Cassandra. Dragging her out of the Palace like some common criminal! The nerve! And that King of hers! Months of no contact! I don’t know what she saw in him. Though I suppose he is quite easy on the eyes. 

Despite her private opinions, she had offered to contact Cassandra’s friends for her grandniece’s peace of mind. For a short while, she had seemed open to the idea, her hurt and insecurities falling away but the Cordonian Royal Wedding happened and with a pang, Clara saw dear Cassie put up her walls once more. She had never seen such anguish since her sister was thrown out of the family decades ago. So Clara did her best to divert Cassandra’s attention, encouraging her to write once more and helping her prepare for the baby. And if there had been any inquiries about her niece from parties coming from that country, she had been quick to silence those. This was her family for God’s sake. She would protect it to the best of her ability. 

“’ Morning, Auntie.” said a voice at the door of the solarium. 

“Good morning, dear. We got your pancakes.” She paused, looking at the dark bags under Cassandra’s eyes. “Did your uncle keep you up last night?”

“Oh yeah. I really don’t understand why he’s so set on that country.” Cassandra said as she settled her son on his chair. 

“You and me both dear. Coffee?”

Countess Clara smiled at the sight of Cassandra and her son. My family, she thought. No one will hurt you here. Both of you. I will make sure of that.

# 

tagging: @captain-kingliamsqueen, @emceesynonymroll, @kingliam2019, @bobasheebaby, @princess-geek, @beardedoafdonutwagon, @texaskitten30, @fbloveschoices, @dcbbw, @los-cafeteros, @msjr0119, @doozysuzy, @mirandatwodots, @princesskennarys

lemme know if you guys want to be tagged (or untagged)

[suchadearie]

The rules: We’re snooping on your playlist - put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people. 

Tagged by @diva-duckling <3 <3 <3

1. Alice Reprise #1 -- Danny Elfman/Alice in Wonderland OST

2. Whiskey Dreams -- Wild Child

3. I’m Sorry -- Tripping Lily

4. Marionette (Demo) -- The Civil Wars

5. Cellophane -- Sara Jackson-Holman

6. Goodbye England (Covered in Snow) -- Laura Marling

7. Für Immer Forever (Akustic Version) -- Mark Forster

8. My Heart Ain’t That Broken -- Leslie Clio

9. Smoke and Mirrors (Live in Copenhagen) -- Agnes Obel

10. Go Away My Lover -- Elizabeth and the Catapult

I’m a tiny bit offended there’s no Fiona Apple or Sophie Madeleine on that list, but alas... Not tagging anyone bc I’m just too little on tumblr and have no idea where my folks are

[captainmvf]

I can't remember if I showed anyone on here these but they're from awhile ago- Lots of weird engines and their race partners sure did show up today!!

[umccall71]

Reality Check

Book: The Royal Romance

Characters: Madeleine x (mc) Queen Sexy

Rating:Mature language, sexual conversation

Disclaimer: All characters used are sole property of Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them for entertainment purposes.

Summary:Countess Madeleine seems to have a problem with her role in her majesties employment. She was groomed for a role as queen, yet reality taking orders from the new queen proves quite difficult.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List

@annekebbphotography @carabeth @elles-choices @indiacater @ownworldresident @hopefulmoonobject @3pawandme @wughhumans @fantasy-of-fiction @silviasutton1989 @gibbles82 @lauradowning29 @simsvetements @blackcoffee85 @romanticatheart-posts @choices97 @jared2612 @custaroonie @whenyourheartskipsabeat @kuladekiwi @marietrinmimi @furiousherringoperatortoad

~~~~~~~~~~~

Countess Madeline of Fydelia has stayed on with the palace in a communications department. Ole Maddie was good at her job, but she did not engage her filter, especially where the new queen was concerned.

Queen Sexy and King Liam tied the knot in front of all of Cordonia and the world six months ago.The new queen checked all the boxes for the handsome king. Sexy was the one woman to challenge the king to be a better king and man, awoke his dormant passion.The commoner turned Royalty, captured his heart and left him breathless. Liam was a man of duty, but his heart was captivated by his Queen, whom was his number one.

King Liam’s number one was Madeleine’s worse nightmare rolled up in pair of pumps and stylish designer outfit.Sexy was not your average, meek , tap dancing marionette of a Queen. She lived to serve her king and the citizens of Cordonia. Madeleine was baffled how Liam could overlook her own talents in comparison to Sexy.This burning question caused her to act totally outside her norm.

Madeline enters the Queen’s study without knocking. She never felt Sexy deserved to be queen, let alone a knock requesting entrance.Madeline was the antithesis Sexy. She couldn’t hide the dramatic eye roll the minute she made eye contact with the queen. Madeleine could feel her snark rising the moment she opened her mouth.

“Sexy, it amazes me your ineptitude with basic common sense task. How do you manage not to fall flat on your face daily?”, Madeleine spouts off at an alarming rate.

“Well Madeleine, it baffles me how you manage to get out of bed each day.. I mean you are a two time reject of the royal family.”, she smirks as she pulls up her calendar on the laptop , studying the events scheduled for the day.

“Well... I’ve never!...” , Madeleine was appalled at Sexy’s retort.

“It appears you never will... every man you ever had, seems to want to chew his genitalia off to get away from you ....that’s frightening.” Sexy struggled to hide her laughter knowing Madeleine was speechless.

“Look Madeleine, I have a busy day ahead of me,... a few appearances, meetings with the interior designer for the royal apartment , lunch with the head of the museum, and plans to fuck my king.”

Madeline sneered at what she saw as crass and uncouth behavior, unbefitting a queen. “ very well... we need to go over these two speeches you have scheduled ,the children’s hospital and the botanical gardens.”, her annoyance was priceless, but she couldn’t believe the way Sexy behaved. “ You really are an embarrassment.”, she uttered under what she considered her breath.

Without raising her voice, Sexy managed to put the blonde demon in her place. “I really think we need to cover the rules in this office. You seem to think we’re on the same level ... there’s confusion right there . Maddie, when people phone the Queen’s office, it’s not you expect to answer the line.”, she continues, “Your always boasting about your breeding and knowledge of protocol... well it would serve you well to know to address as , your majesty. I have earned that title that you choke on everytime you enter the palace.”, Sexy rises from her chair, leaning forward, “ Do I make myself clear?”

Madeline swallows the lump in her throat, “ Yes your majesty.

“Very good... you pick up quickly.”

The ladies are pulled from their barbs by a knock on the door. “Come in.”, Sexy summons the visitor to enter her study. The queen could not hide the broad smile as she watched her king... her husband walks in completely ignoring the other blonde in the room.

“Hello my love... I just had to steal a few moments of your time.”, he flashes a knowing grin.

“What can I do for you my king?, she smirked while biting her bottom lip.

“ Well... I figured since we had a little time before your due out of the palace, we could perhaps...”, he whispered in a sultry tone into her ear.

Madeline cleared her throat trying to distract the royal couple from continuing the line of thought.

“Is there something in your throat Madeleine?”, Sexy snaps not dissuading her king from nuzzling her neck. Sexy knew this display of affection made the blonde demon extremely uncomfortable.

“Don’t you acknowledge your king when he enters a room?”, she quips.

“Yes ma’am.”Madeleine fights back the overwhelming feeling to talk down to the queen.

Madeline curtsies, “ Your majesty.”

King Liam nods, “ lady Madeleine, I hope your morning is going well.”, he sidles up behind his Queen , sliding his arm around her waist, kissing her earlobe.Sexy felt his manhood stiffening , causing an arousal in the both of them.

Madeline tried to avert her eyes from the couple.Sexy teases her twisting in the seat across from them.

“What’s wrong Maddie... have you never seen a married couple express their love for each other?”, she smirks and leans back into her King’s chest.

“ We have a couple of hours before my first meeting... perhaps you can leave me with my king, you know we have duties to perform. I’m a multitasker, I can review notes and work on producing an heir.”, she chuckles as king Liam nibbles on her neck.

Madeline’s eyes stretch, unable to hide her outrage at the private behavior, being exhibited in public. “ Very well.”, she rises and make her way to the door before she’s stopped in her tracks.

Sexy chimes in, “ Oh and Maddie..., please tell Eli to hold my calls. I wish not to be disturbed with my king. We wouldn’t want to dispappointment the citizens of Cordonia, this is a full time job that we are honored to perform as many times as it takes for success.”

She turns on her heel and closes the Queen’s door upon exiting.

Liam spins Sexy around and lifts her body into the desk, eyes both growing dark with desire before they share a laugh. “ I bet Madeleine will picture us tonight as she slides her frigid ass into bed....”

[auditionharbor]

Seven Homeless Mammoths Wander New England

By Madeleine George

Female, Comedy

DEAN WREEN: You know I envy Maureen, really, she's got her agenda but at least she's the ultimate arbiter of what she says to her patients. You know I was on this call with Ben today and he was telling me this thing Skip Dwyer said about me during the budget review meeting--So Ben was saying that Skip said those Trustees, they have no idea when they call me up to yell at me about how I'm handling some public relations snafu, that they are in fact speaking to a doctor of philosophy in speech act theory. I am not your average PR paraprofessional, I have in fact spent years ruminating on the nature and efficacy of speech, and yet in my current position I am in some fundamental way no better than a giant marionette. Or a, what's the kind with the jaw, a, a--Ventriloquist's dummy! It's the central irony of my life, isn't it? Not that I'm complaining, I don't wish to complain about my job, I'm lucky to have it, but a lesser person wouldn't be able to tolerate the sheer travesty of the work. I mean, why do I do it? Why do I show up every day and do it?

[micaramel]

Artist: Lucy McKenzie

Venue: Cabinet, London

Exhibition Title: Giving Up The Shadows On My Face

Date: October 3 – December 7, 2019

Click here to view slideshow

Full gallery of images, press release, and link available after the jump

Images:

Images courtesy of the artist and Cabinet, London

Press Release:

Lucy McKenzie grew up in Glasgow and since 2006 has lived in Brussels, Belgium. Her work combines traditional oil painting with a variety of other disciplines including collaborations in fashion and furniture design, curation, writing, and publishing. This, her first solo exhibition in London since 2010, explores the intersection of fine and applied arts, representation and labour in a series of paintings and objects.

Together with Beca Lipscombe, her long-term collaborator in the fashion label Atelier E.B, McKenzie staged Atelier E.B: Passer-by at Serpentine in 2018 and Lafayette Anticipations in Paris in 2019. The exhibition examined the fruitful exchange between retail display / mannequins and fine art. In Giving Up The Shadows On My Face McKenzie continues to explore the artist-mannequin partnership and examine the dynamism that is created when different creative fields are brought into dialogue.

Mural painting and the decoration of civic spaces have long been a forum in which ideology and cultural policy have come to artistic fruition:

The monumental wall painting, a prestigious format in Europe since the Middle Ages, became a fulcrum of critical debate in the 20th century. Many artists and critics looked to the mural as a corrective to the ills of painterly Modernism: the disruption of the pictorial field at the hands of Cubism and other avant-garde practices; the commodification of painting through the market for easel paintings; the loss of arts effective public mission; the erosion of aesthetic aura; and more generally the alienation of man and the anomie of art in the modern condition.

At the same time it was clear that a return to the mural format would never be more than anachronistic and futile gesture.

Romy Golan, Muralnomad: The Paradox of Wall Painting, Europe 1927-1957

For Giving Up The Shadows On My Face McKenzie highlights the friction between two artistic systems, art made for the private market (as typified by the framed oil painting or the display vitrine) and that supported by the state (here represented by a Soviet-era style mural). She examines the way these two methods of artistic expression (and economic survival) are aesthetically shaped by those systems, what defines them, and how this relates to artistic hierarchies.

A vitrine is used as a framing device to give value to and elevate a household chair (a replica from the 1930s villa by the by Belgian architect Josef De Bruyker that the artist is restoring). The vitrine is one of a pair that would sit well somewhere like the Burlington Arcade, but their interiors are fitted with replicas of the kind of marble that decorates the civic buildings of Totalitarian states (here taken from EUR, the neighbourhood of Rome planned under Mussolini in the 1930s). These painted interiors also recognise the contemporary vogue for marble in designer boutiques—which take their cue from marble’s re-emergence in the 2010s as a sculptural material in visual art, rather than directly from luxury décor. In the show the chair is presented as a functional design object, displayed in a vitrine and as part of a painted composition: domestic, commercial, creative and civic spheres are overlaid.

Glasgow 1936 / 1966 depicts two maps of central Glasgow superimposed upon each other, a tram map from 1936 and a gang territory map from 1966. The work was originally painted as a commission for a public museum, responding to the remit of the institution. But the deal went sour, and now it’s for sale in a private gallery.

Even more than the oil painting, fashion is creativity driven by the free market, so bringing together haute couture and public art can create an even more fractious polemic. Theoretically, fashion is the manifestation of the desires of the individual, often considered an indulgent and corrupting pleasure, in opposition to the healthy, edifying role that public art plays in improving society. It is perhaps the incessant failures of these two forms to deliver on their promises that makes them such potent forms.

Labour is not merely the expenditure of energy; within Socialist Realism, it and the labourer are heroic subjects. Labour is also an essential component of haute couture. Together with her assistants McKenzie made a replica of a 1933 couture dress by the celebrated French designer Madeleine Vionnet, and it features in the exhibition in several of the works. A tabletop trompe l’oeil still-life depicts the process of replication: it clothes a handmade mannequin in one of the display vitrines, and is worn by the same mannequin in the painting Rebecca. Painting is used to ‘intervene’ at different stages of processes that illustrate labour as both method and subject.

McKenzie’s interest in painting is rarely for its own sake. Rather it is painting as it often relates to decorative and commercial art. Hers is a prosaic rendering of real spaces and objects in one-to-one scale, done using the procedural, mechanical techniques she mastered as a decorative painter.

The objects and scenes she depictes often relate to by-gone eras. Anachronism is deliberately employed as a distancing device to reflect on contemporary attitudes and thinking. The defining characteristics of an epoch are often imperceptible until it is superseded and consigned to the past. Her layering of period styles speaks truth to how eras do not merely start and stop but overrun and spill. To illustrate this, replication offers a way in. For Atelier E.B: Passer-by McKenzie made a trompe l’oeil copy of the 1939 work Trial and Error by the British painter Meredith Frampton (the style and composition of which also underpins the construction of Still-life, on view here). A replica can never be a ‘perfect copy’, the aesthetics of its period will always subconsciously impose themselves.

This in turn is why the fashion mannequin is of such relevance: its body shape and formulaic poses reflect the aesthetics ideals of its period, the pure capitalist body, coming into and going out of fashion at an accelerated pace. The mannequin that features throughout the show is a hybrid between a fashion display doll and a statue, its head being a 3D scan of an unattributed bust in the collection of the plaster cast workshop of the Royal Museum of Art and History in Brussels. But its painted surface robs it of its high cultural value and renders it uncanny. Polychrome debases it and links it to the popular arts of marionettes, religious statuary and sex dolls.

In the hands of the Surrealists the figure of the mannequin was subverted through fragmentation. This is one of the defining characteristics of high modernism that has greatly influenced notions of beauty. The complex relationship between artist and mannequin predates the Surrealists by at least a century with the use of lay figures as stand-ins for live sitters (a practice that was so easy to detect in figurative painting in its day that it is analogous to a contemporary photoshop ‘fail’). In the painting Rebecca, McKenzie looked at portraiture as a tool in the study of the history of fashion, this being an important source of reliable data on the colours of fabric in a time before widespread colour photography.

Many of the surreal objects in the compositions in Giving Up The Shadows On My Face are made by her extended circle of friends – the Czech artist Pavla Dundálková, designers Michael Anastassiades and Valentina Cameranesi. McKenzie inhabits the methodologies and aesthetics of other artists (the architect De Bruyker, the designer Vionnet, the painter Frampton) in recognition of arts interconnectedness.

In the process of studying Vionnet and Frampton, the artist realised several points that these unrelated artists shared. Frampton’s work is balanced (both visually and conceptually) between the psychological drama of Surrealism and the shallow ocular preoccupation of Photorealism. His work’s detailed finish renders each object and person as a discrete sculptural entity, treating every element of the composition equally. By replicating Frampton’s work McKenzie observed that both the couture of Vionnet and the paintings of Frampton achieve absolute technical perfection, and that the perfection discreetly hides, beneath an impression of effortlessness, the complex procedures of construction and hours of labour needed to make them. These figures’ technical felicity bonded with conceptual ideas to produce interesting counterpoints to the prevailing ideas about Modernism that permeated their milieu in the early twentieth century. Frampton’s work would have been read as conservative within the climate of British art at the time, being neither abstract nor gestural. Similarly, Vionnet’s overt femininity and Neo-classicism was seen in opposition to the dominant notion that woman’s dress, to be explicitly modern, could only do so by adopting masculine tropes such as trousers and workwear. Her innovations were ‘hidden’ in the final gowns, which often appeared to have emerged from antiquity. The strict geometry came to life when activated by the natural movement and curves of the women she dressed.

Our taste and ideas about beauty and acceptability are shaped by context. McKenzie has a long-standing interest in the representation of women under Totalitarianism, as a stylistic form and as a reflector of Western capitalist conventions. She observed that in a city such as Moscow, where there is still a strong presence of Soviet era public art, being presented on a daily basis with idealised figures from an unfamiliar period and mindset, different from the kind that dominate public space through advertising and the mass media under Captialism, one feels one’s own personal desires being influenced and rerouted by their culture surroundings.

The large hidden mural that fills the central wall of the show has been staged as if just found beneath a false wall. It is a replica of the mural on display in the central reading room of the Russian State Library in Moscow. But it has been reinterpreted by the artist to have its repressive sexuality slightly loosened and to illustrate the private lives of individuals away from Soviet ideals. Couples furtively touch, a gymnast smokes and nakedness becomes nudity, counter to the de-sexualisation that Soviet culture tried to impose on the naked body. It is suggestion that defines the space between the pornographic and the erotic.

A mannequin cannot be naked, it can only be undressed. The mannequin perched on a tabletop sits undressed save for a pair of old Czech gym shoes. This is in honour of the important role shoes play in the essential narrative of pornography, grounding the blank body in a specific space and time. The tabletop quodlibet features sexually charged books. A found a copy of 1900 by Rebecca West turned out to have been collaged with the porn collection of a previous owner; in Temple Aux Miroirs, by the photographer Irina Ionesco and the writer Alain Robbe-Grillet, Ionesco’s use of her underage daughter as a photo model in the 1970s typifies debates around eroticism that remain contentious today.

  The artist would like to thank:

Everyone at Cabinet, Michael Anastassiades, Quirin Baumler, Valentina Cameranesi, Ben Clark, Juliet Dearden, Pavla Dundálková, Laurent Gielis, Beca Lipscombe, Steff Norwood, Markus Proschek. Special thanks to Josefine Reisch and Alison Yip.

The title of the exhibition is taken from the track Giving Up by electronic musician Martial Canterel and used with permission.

Link: Lucy McKenzie at Cabinet

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[rarewareofficial]

There are cat flaps in the general facility and a certain cute marionette uses them instead of doors.

SHES A FUCKING KITTEN

i bet she sleeps like this too huh? fuck.! fuck dammit mvf youre gonna kill me with cute things