#noise canceling headphones are a gift from the divine

[nmuppetsinatrenchcoat]

learning through experience:

it's okay to wear your noise cancelling headphones in public.

[charlierosewriting]

This viewing of Stop Making Sense, in a cinema I went to alone, did two things: it ruined every other time I'll ever try to watch this film again in my life, and revealed itself to be what it has been this whole time. Anti-performance anxiety propaganda. It also cracked me wide open.

I've always seen Stop Making Sense in one of two modes - communally on a TV through it's built-in speakers, or on my phone alone with my big chunky noise-cancelling headphones. I pick whether I want to hear it with others but sacrifice the sound quality, or to hear it at its most beautiful but by myself. In a mostly empty cinema, Stop Making Sense becomes both at once. I can't be sure if it's the A24 remaster or just hearing it on a capital everything SOUND SYSTEM, but the entire experience feels warmer and human this way. Tina Weymouth's bass playing is clearer than ever before, the synths taking a bit more of a backseat to its rumble, and the percussion of both Chris Frantz's drums, David Byrne's boombox and (most transformatively) Steve Scale's set-up hit almost with the force of actual, unshielded, live drumming. After each song, the couple behind me cheered and whooped (half-ironically), and after the midway point I joined in (completely earnestly). It's still not perfectly analogous to a live concert, even then. The audience noise is near immersive in surround sound, but it still feels as distant as the band does all the way over up on that stage. When the songs end and the crowd noise begins, the cinema experience feels strange and hollow and disconnected. I love this way more than a perfect Disneyland imagineered recreation of a Talking Heads concert.

That last point is actually where the most magic is found in seeing Stop Making Sense in a cinema, and what really started to pierce into me; the craftsmanship is more visible. These are small chips in the paintwork you can't see until you get your nose right up to the masterpiece, and every one of them adds more texture and beauty to the whole.

It's easy to be swept away by the sheer magic of Stop Making Sense in any of my usual viewings, because it's already perfect. In Crosseyed and Painless, the camera pans between Alex and David as they trade absolutely cracked guitar solos, and it is a frontrunner for my favourite shot in any film. The whole thing feels effortless and fluid from beginning to end, a document of a band in their peak, beautiful moments of improvisation and genius popping up from both the performers and the cameramen, something divinely ordained.

But when Tina Weymouth is 20ft tall, you notice her lips don't quite match the audio track on Genius of Love, and remember that the film was shot over four nights, not one continuous concert. It isn't a gift from the goddess of music, it's a team of creatives sweating in a studio with probably not great A/C to make something that feels cohesive. When David dances with Ednah and Lynn on Burning Down The House, they perfectly match his strange movements and mimic the guitar playing, and when they're 20ft tall you remember that there must-have been a rehearsal. You remember that the physical CD of Stop Making Sense you own includes a booklet, in which every movement and stage direction is documented, and you wonder if that was written before or after the performance.

One I noticed long before I saw it in the cinema was during the objective pick for best Talking Heads song, This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody), when David enjoys watching the lamp he dances with wobble back into place for just long enough that he misses his cue to sing, and is back at the microphone just half a beat AFTER he starts singing on the audio track.

This is not nitpicking. This is revelatory, this is beautiful, this is the best the film has ever been. This is the autism of Stop Making Sense.

Like Stop Making Sense, I am profoundly autistic. I have been autistic all my life, and I will continue to be autistic. If you asked me if I'm proud to be autistic, I'd say yes, but at the same time I'm sadly not sure if that's true. I have masked so thoroughly and for so long that removing the veneer isn't freeing. Taking it off doesn't let my skin breathe, it exposes raw flesh so tender that it is stung by the air. Some people never have experience with air, tell you not to worry about it, but I think that David Byrne has.

He writes more songs about buildings and food, he dances either like a marionette or like a panic attack, he sings like he is bearing his soul or like he's having a panic attack, the polyrhythms the band finds are joyous grooves or they are panic attacks. Talking Heads is sensory overload about sensory overload, confusing music about being confused, failing radio transmissions about badly communicated emotions.

The difference is, Talking Heads will express that feeling, that disconnect, that hellish radio static in the back of my mind, and make it listenable and funky and fun. When I'm overwhelmed, I'll storm out and cry alone, when David Byrne is overwhelmed, he writes Born Under Punches. When I'm happy, I smile and, if around no-one but my girlfriend, maybe giggle and flap like I wish I could more often - before regaining control and putting the mask back on. When David Byrne is happy, he releases Don't Worry About The Government and the world listens to it.

I want to write songs about buildings and food! I want to write songs about Garak and Power! About the career of Ahmed Johnson! Let me! But I won't, and I don't. I don't think I can right now. But then there's Stop Making Sense.

Stop Making Sense takes every complicated, negative emotion in the discography of Talking Heads, and does something amazing with it; it makes it a party. In its original studio form, Life During Wartime is midtempo and reverby and distressing. The groove is there, but feels intentionally shot in the shin, only allowed to lope in a way that brings out the tension and danger of the lyricism. Then it Stop Making Sense it SKYROCKETS!!! The panic is still there, that essential tender skin of autism, but it is transformed into one of the most bracing and captivating performances of the whole film. Rather than monotonal, almost krautrocky guitar solos, it is given ecstatic synths and almost double the tempo. The studio version of David feels cramped in his situation, the film David runs in place! He wriggles! He sprints laps around the entire stage! The crowd claps and screams! I clap and scream!

This is Stop Making Sense in minutia. The tension and overload of autism is constant, it is pervasive, but what is present is the joy and not the pain. When I stim around my girlfriend I feel completely free momentarily, Talking Heads in Stop Making Sense feel completely free for eighty-eight minutes, and it's infectious.

Masking, at least for me, is performance anxiety. I have an ideal self in my head and, despite my constant trying to change this, she doesn't openly present as autistic yet. I want to perform my best, ideal self, and I need my autism to be part of that, but revealing myself that much to the world is terrifying.

But, once again, here's Stop Making Sense, and its perfect flaws.

The version of Tina we see sing Genius of Love isn't the version we're hearing, but she is beautiful, and I love her. David misses the cue to go back to the microphone, but I still hear his wolf howls and I smile. Chris beams like a headlight at all times, he's having the time of his life. Ednah and Lynn are always so ON that they feel more like Energizer Bunnies than people sometimes, and I wish I could be more like either of them. Jerry is consistently serious looking and kinda wooden, and he's doing so damn well up there. Alex seems to only know one dance move, it's to kick about as high as his chest and look to the right, and it's the coolest thing I've ever seen every time. Bernie looks so self serious at all times, which makes his basic ass solos on Making Flippy Floppy so much funnier and better. Steve Scales, on top of having the best name ever, keeps looking at the crowd like a kid whose parents have come to see him in the school play, and I love him. I love them all.

They are and were real people with interiority and darkness that I'll never know or comprehend, they all did bad things to good people at some point in their lives, and the version of themselves that was captured across these four nights and painted into this eighty-eight minute gasp of euphoria are my family and they are my friends.

David gets to the microphone too late and I hear the wolf howl and I smile, they all continue the song together and I clap, and then I squeal and then I shake and I flap my hands and the mask falls to the ground, and there are two people behind me who can definitely see me right now and they can definitely tell, they can so definitely tell, but this must be the place (naive melody) is the best song ever so I dont really care and the song ends and i find there are tears in my eyes and they dont fall, and before i can reach to pick up what i dropped the synth arpeggios of once in a lifetime start and i no longer have time so i sit theere and i watch and i listen and david dances and now hes wearing glasses and I'm just an animal looking for a home and, share the space for a minute or two! And I'll love you 'til my heart stops! Love you until I'm dead. Eyes that light up, eyes that look through you. Cover up my blind spots, hit me on the head! Awoo!

Postscript:

I tried writing this once on my phone, but the app crashed and deleted my progress and I almost had a panic attack lol. Glad I rewrote it, I want to put this somewhere, but it is somewhat more masked and less raw than the original version. Oh well, it's probably better written.

The one concert movie I've seen that REALLY goes into exposing how it's a construction over different nights is Beyoncé's Homecoming which is a masterpiece in its own right. The way it blatantly shifts outfits and colour schemes across shots is wonderful, people need to talk about that more. Probably shouldn't be me though lol.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Blood in the water Part 2

Pairing: merman!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use, brief mention of breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 3496.

Part 1

___________________

He started singing again, and you turned on Slipknot to the full volume, carefully slipping on your noise-canceling headphones you ordered not so long ago. They were really a blessing, but even with them and all the noise surrounding you Steve’s voice still rang inside your head. 

He had a beautiful voice, the one people would call heavenly, but his intentions were far from angelic: the first night you heard Steve singing to you, you had almost went to the beach where he was waiting his prey, charmed by his divine voice. Forgetting about the danger, you floated like a cloud to him, only half-awake and clearly unaware of your actions. The only thing that saved you that night was a sharp rock you stepped on, cutting your foot, blood coloring the cold ground as you broke free from Steve’s charms. When you ran home, covering your ears and singing loudly to yourself to silence his voice, the merman let out an unnatural, frightening growl behind your back.

Then Steve started doing it every night, serenading you by moonlight. It could be romantic if only the merman didn’t try drowning you in the sea, determined to make you “his mate”. Worse, with each passing day the mark he left on your neck was becoming more and more painful and itchy, and sometimes you were waking up with deep scratches left by your own nails. 

The villagers couldn’t do much about it, despite being deeply ashamed of their inability to tell you about the merfolk - you realized they had been under some curse as every time they tried talking to you about Steve they were simply losing their voices. Of course, it all made sense now. 

They helped you taking care of the wound, but from all the words they couldn’t say you understood you wouldn’t get rid of the mark easily. Thankfully, it stopped bleeding, but the nasty scar left by Steve’s sharp teeth had still been there. Well, you could live with it, you supposed, if only you leave this forsaken place.

When you got on the first bus, you had fainted in the middle of the trip for no damn reason. You looked so bad with you eyes rolling back into your skull, your body shaking uncontrollably, the driver decided not to risk it and returned to the town immediately, leaving you in a hospital again. Strangely, you woke up with no pain whatsoever, fresh as a daisy. It was the curse the merman gifted you - you couldn’t be too far from him now, dragged back by the mark on your neck, and your only chance to stay alive was either staying with him or taking him with you. 

Maybe you could get rid of the curse if you killed him, you weren’t sure. As far as you knew from locals, they didn’t manage to kill even one in the last several decades. You didn’t know whether you could, too. Even if you would get a chance to stab Steve, you hardly imagined murdering him. You just weren’t the type.

So, he kept singing in his attempt to draw you to the beach again, and you kept hiding in that little cottage you rented. Oh yes, you were also worried about the rent since the month you paid for was coming to an end, but locals just smiled at you sadly, shaking their heads. This was how merfolk was attracting new people to the town.

“But my friends and family will be searching for me.” You mumbled, covering your face with your hands. “I have a job, a life out there.”

“I’m sorry, sunny, but no one will be searching for you,” the doctor said, giving you a salve for your mark - it was easing the itchiness. “You don’t know the merfolk. They'd stop at nothing to keep their mates close.”

“But why, for God’s sake?” You growled helplessly, unable to face the man and staring at your shoes instead.

“Reproduction, sunny. Mermaids aren’t as fertile anymore, and they are facing extinction.” He shrugged.

“And how is it supposed to work? Human with a merman?”

The doctor patted your shoulder apologetically, shaking his head. ‘I can’t tell you, dear. I... I physically can’t.”

You knew what he was talking about and couldn’t be angry at him. These people couldn’t do much, forced to protect their loved ones and living in constant fear of being abducted by the vile creatures living deep in the sea. Most of the time merfolk didn’t come to the town openly, and that’s why those women were so upset you lived far away, completely defenseless. But they couldn’t open up to you, revealing merfolk’s secret, and now Steve kept you on the hook.

Groaning when the sunlight crept in through the curtains, you rubbed your eyes and slowly got up, taking the headphones away and touching your ears. God, it hurt so much, but it was the only way for you to sleep at least for a few hours while Steve kept singing outside.

Oddly, you couldn’t hear the sound of the music as if someone turned it off, and you immediately went to your laptop to check. Shit, you forgot to plug it in. Thank goodness Steve stopped singing before your laptop turned off.

Sighing, you went to the bathroom, opening the tap and splashing some water into your face to wake up. It was barely six, but the sun was shining brightly, giving you no chance to go to sleep - you had always been up with the sun regardless of your circumstances. Now it was one more of your curses, considering you barely slept. 

Watching your reflection in the mirror, you chuckled sarcastically, touching your bottom eyelid - you looked like you just came back from the dead. Would Steve be willing to let you go once he realized you’re no more the sweet beautiful lady he met? What a fucking bastard.

Feeling nauseated, you rubbed your face and went to the kitchen, reheating yesterday’s coffee. You had no strength to make yourself breakfast, even the simplest one. 

Next minute you were wrapping the blanket around yourself and heading out of the house with a mug in your hand, eager to watch the sunrise. You weren’t afraid of Steve since you had never even once spotted him on the beach in the daylight. Besides, you kept a little knife in a pocket of your pants in case you needed to cut yourself and become free from his charms.

You still questioned yourself what were going to do next. Even if your parents and friends would forget you because of the curse affecting them somehow, you still remembered them. You wanted your life back. You wanted to sleep at night, unafraid of being snatched away by someone hiding in the dark. You wanted to wake up, knowing you are safe, and go to work, have one more simple day, then returning back home. You didn’t ask for much.

Well, you would have to figure out how to live in this small town all by yourself, find a new source of income and pretend like no scary mythical creature lingered behind your back. Maybe you would have to ask doctor to make you deaf. It should help with the singing.

Suddenly, you saw a huge figure rising from behind a rock not very far from you. You froze on the spot, looking at Steve walking carefully on the beach. Despite wearing something reminding you of a torn human sweater, he was naked below the waistline, and you blinked, looking at his soft cock dangling in between his legs.

Legs. Steve had a pair of strong, muscled human legs. 

For a second you forgot how to breathe, watching him coming closer to you, his movements a bit unsteady and slow. You became rooted to the ground where you stood, unable to turn away and run from the monster too human to your liking. Was it his magic again? Was it you who couldn’t keep running anymore?

Biting your lips painfully, you felt tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Steve was wearing your sweater, albeit badly stretched out and torn in a few places - he was so much bigger than you it was a miracle he had somehow managed to put it on. You suddenly remembered how you were searching for this sweater a week or two ago, thinking you had forgot it somewhere in the cottage. How and where did Steve find it? Was he always able to walk? If so, why didn’t he take you away?

Well, maybe that’s what he was going to do now.

Finally finding some strength, you turned back to your cottage, eager to get away as far as possible from him, but then heard Steve’s angry, raspy voice, “Stay where you are!”

And you stood, moving back to face him and unable to do anything at all but watch. 

Steve looked as tired as you are: you saw the bags under his eyes, his full lips cracked, his expression exhausted as if your resistance was straining him. Wasn’t he supposed to be an invincible immortal being wandering the sea? He looked so much more human now you weren’t even sure anymore.

“You want my throat to bleed, don’t you?” He grunted in a hoarse voice, wincing when he spoke, and you realized he lost his voice after signing night after night to you. “I am doing my best for you, and you just turn on that horrible, distasteful music every night!”

You smirked - how dare was he to call Slipknot’s best songs “distasteful music”?

“This shouldn’t happen this way. You’re ruining it.” Steve continued to grumble as he kept coming closer and closer, and, oddly, you found out you weren’t as scared of him anymore as you were in that faithful night. 

“Ruining what?” You asked, sipping your still warm coffee when he approached you, wet and angry.

“The courtship!” The man exclaimed, breathing heavily - it seemed walking on his human legs was talking a toll on him. “You had to come to me, you stubborn woman! And what are you making me do? Come to you instead?”

He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut and touching his neck. It had to be really painful for him to talk.

Despite how wicked he was and how badly you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine, you almost felt pity for your merman, handing him your mug when he stopped close to you.

“What is this? Coffee?”

“With milk. Good for your throat.” You replied, acknowledging he knew of human drinks.

Gazing at you skeptically, Steve sniffed your mug and then took it in his arms, glancing at the liquid inside. “It’s hot.”

“It’s warm. You won’t burn your tongue.” You said, taking the blanket off your shoulder and wrapping it around his hips - seriously, you felt too awkward to stand near a man dressed in just a little stretched-out sweater.

“You and you fear of nudity, humans.” Steve grunted, but sipped the coffee, nonetheless, quickly getting used to it and finishing your mug. “Oh, this one isn’t bad. I tried espresso, but it was so bitter I couldn’t have the whole cup.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around your own body and looking at the merman. What was he going to do now? He didn’t look vile, probably not as angry and upset as before, but who knew what he had in mind.

“So what? Are we going to stay here in the cold or you will bring me to your house?” Steve asked snappish while you snorted at him. 

“Really? I thought your plan was to drown me in the sea, not bask in the warmth of my bed.”

He grinned, pressing your mug to his impressive chest.

“Why would I drown you, silly woman? Come on, it’s cold out here in the morning. I want to stay at your place.”

He took your hand in his, and you finally moved from your spot as if Steve allowed you. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around him, you went to your house, thinking of the knife in a pocket of your pants. If he was planning to attack you, you could definitely stab him through your thin sweater or cut his throat. It would require some skill, though.

Entering the little hallway, Steve looked at the ceiling and winced from the mirror hanging on the wall, looking at his reflection. Shaking his head disapprovingly, he reached out to touch his swollen bottom eyelid. 

“I thought merfolk aren’t afraid of cold.” You said, entering the kitchen and emptying the coffee pot.

“Not in this pathetic human body.” Steve entered after you, rubbing his arm in your completely wet sweater.

“Then you have to take this off and-”

“What? NO!”

He jumped away from you and stayed in the corner like a kid hiding something from his mother. You rolled your eyes.

“Although this is MY sweater, I’m not going to take it from you. I just want to dry it, alright?” You ensured, coming closer. “You’re not going to get warm if you keep it on.”

“This is my sweater.” Steve grumbled, but took it off, regardless, and handed a miserable, partly discolored piece of fabric to you to let you hang it close to the heater, watching you intently - did he really think you’d ran away with your sweater?

When you turned to face him, your blanket wasn’t secured on his hips anymore, and you stared at his naked member again, your face growing terribly hot from the sight. What was that merman thinking? Was he flaunting his.. physique in front of you? You knew of some animals doing that to attract their mates.

“For goodness sake, cover yourself.” You huffed, taking a pack of milk from the fridge. “You don’t want this thing to freeze in the open, do you?”

“Wait, it can freeze if I don’t cover it?” His eyes shot open. “You mean I won’t be able to have children anymore?”

“Yes, this is exactly what I mean.” Oh damn, it was terribly hard not to laugh as you watched Steve looking at you in horror and hurriedly wrapping the blanket around himself as much as he could. It was hilarious. 

Putting two cups of milk into the microwave, you hit the button and pulled out some butter from the fridge to put into the cup once milk would be ready. You certainly didn’t need this hissing little mermaid who lost his voice because he sang too many serenades to you.

“So, what about the courtship?” You asked, stirring melted butter in Steve’s cup as he waited for you, sitting on a chair near the table. “How do you even imagine making babies with me?”

“You don’t know?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m a pro at that. I’m sure you will enjoy the process.”

“For God’s sake, Steve.” You groaned, placing a cup in front of him and taking yours. “Don’t play stupid here. I can’t live underwater. I can’t even fucking swim!”

“I’m not asking you to.” He shrugged and took his milk, ensuring it wasn’t burning hot before making a sip. “Though you won’t die underwater now. Believe it or not, you can actually breathe there because of my mark.”

You touched the scar, rubbing it with your fingers furiously and narrowing your eyes at the merman who, apparently, seemed very happy to see his mark on your skin. Once he reminded you of this thing, you were ready to snap at him.

“Do you even know how much this thing hurt?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“This is because you refused to come to me,” he cocked his head to the side, watching you growing angry. “I only need to kiss it to make you feel better. Don’t look at me like that! It’s true, let me show you.”

You stepped backwards immediately as he advanced upon you, caging you with his large body, pressing you to the kitchen counter, his skin cold. Pushing your hands against Steve, you tried to keep him away, but he was so much stronger than you that you almost ended up with your face buried in his chest.

“What the-”

He quickly lowered his head down and sniffed you, bringing his face to your neck. The next moment Steve was touching your scar with his lips, and you whimpered involuntarily, expecting it to hurt like hell. But it didn’t. He simply brushed his dry, chapped lips against your mark, and you felt nothing especially painful. 

You were growing tired of all this magical things you didn’t understand.

“See? There’s nothing scary.” He smiled brightly, and you saw he had human teeth now, too. 

“Yeah, yeah, now please go sit over there,” you grunted, but he didn’t move, laughing at you and ruffling your hair with his large hand. “What are you doing? Go away!”

“Don’t be so cold. You are going to share your life with me, silly woman, so don’t fuss over such little thing.”

You decided it was time for more effective measures and reached out to your pocket to grab the knife, but Steve grabbed your arm before you could do it, sending you a serious look.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

“Really? I have some doubts.” You slapped his hand away, but didn’t try to take the knife again. “Because you have just ruined my life with that bite. How the hell this is going to work, anyway? How do you expect me to live with you? You’re a damn mermaid!”

“I’m a merman,” he said, looking resentful, and returned to his seat, sipping his hot milk with butter - apparently, it was working, and his voice sounded less raspy now. 

You exhaled loudly, enjoying the distance and rubbing your mark that wasn’t as itchy as before, but you scratched it, anyway.

“Listen, I’m not saying I’m totally harmless, but I’m not dangerous for you.” He said as he finished his cup. “You can remain living here, on the ground, I won’t pull you into the water... often.”

“Do you understand I can’t just go and be intimate with you, someone I see for the second time in my life?”

“I’d be surprised if you did. Look, I’m not asking for it either. The courtship doesn’t last for a month. You’ll get used to me, I know.”

His dazzling smile was making you feel nauseated, and you grabbed you cup, having a bit of warm milk, too. Steve was being impossible, but you were thankful he wasn’t forcing himself on you now. Maybe there was a chance to trick him into removing this hex, and you would have to figure it out.

“If you want to know whether we can have children together, I can tell you we definitely can. It doesn’t really matter whether I take my true or human form while making love to you, so it’s up to you how you wanna do it.” Steve grinned, and you clenched your teeth, unable to believe he was talking about it so openly, caring little for your consent. There was something barbaric in this charmingly handsome half-naked man sitting in your kitchen.

Suddenly, you felt like the nausea got much stronger, and merman’s smile wasn’t at fault. What was happening? The world was spinning, and you let go of your almost emptied cup, slipping to the floor. Shit, shit, shit. It wasn’t good.

Oh God. It was him, wasn't it? He had done something to you. He smiled and talked and laughed to make you relax, think of your situation like a simple comedy when, in fact, you were still in grave danger. Were you so stupid to believe him or was it his charms again? You hoped for the latter, curshing yourself for being too carefree and letting him into your house.

“Sorry, sweetheart, it seems I put too much medicine in your milk.” He clicked his tongue as you looked at him in horror, barely able to move now. “I thought we had more time to talk. But, well, we can always do it later.”

Steve was near you the next second, carefully lifting you up in the air in his hands, watching you with a bit of concern on his face.

He proceeded to walk in the direction of the door, but before he snatched your torn sweater and put it on his shoulder, carrying you outside of the cottage that had become your little fortress over these few weeks. However, it could keep the monster off your back, and now all you could do was watching the green door becoming further and further from you with each Steve’s step to the shore.

Your body was completely frozen when his feet reached the water, and the merman left a kiss on your cheek, stroking it tenderly despite that wicked smile on his face.

“I told you, you can’t break the tradition. It is time for you to come to me now."

THE END

___________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​   @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ @void-hoechlin​ @abyssaint​ @heeeyitskay​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lovelydarkdaydream​ @soleil-dor​ @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @sourpatchspinster​

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Red Well (Part 1) Putting God to the Test

More Ruri Action served up hot and fresh @rurifangirl

The Red Well is an immense hole in the ground where much of the water you’d seen flow through the vast Iron Dome hidden under Genji Heavy Industries was siphoned away from the City of Tokyo into the mountains near the Tama River. It was one of many of such wells. Each one of these storage tanks was actually an underground lake that was a kilometer across. The hole was just an access port. The hole was normally covered by a huge retractable lid, but it was pulled back. Along the walls of the hole, layers of scaffolding shored it up against earth movement and large lift elevators big enough to transport heavy machinery were installed on its sides.

You stood on the cross beam at the very top. The water of this well was far, far below you, looking like a round red eye. Far nearer to you was a circular maintenance floor where hundreds of members of the Devil Clan feverishly worked on this massive project that was finally coming to fruition after decades of planning. Between you and the water below were flow control gates.

Hydra had started this whole mess by drilling horizontally from the Red Well until they reached the Well of Bones: An underground crimson colored river that had mixed with magma and filled with nutrients to harbor the White King and its legions of minions. The river was diverted into the tunnel, that led to this well and thousands of dragonkin came with it. The pumps on the side of the well dumped a huge load of mercury poison into the water to weaken and kill the beasts. Then they dropped thermite bombs into the water to destroy what was left.

But Hydra had underestimated the so-called “God” as well as the Devil Clan. God survived and was swimming among the mercury and all the corpses.

While you had been happily standing on the bridge, getting married to Chime Gen, Herzog had prepared his own wedding gift. He replaced the mercury flow with a flow of deadpool fetal blood - and other nourishing chemicals - and dumped them into the well just as you were saying your words on the bridge of the Takamagahara Night Club.

The ‘God’ awakened and brought disaster to Tokyo by setting off a Mount Fuji eruption and massive earthquakes that sent a deadly tsunami right at you.

Still, you managed to survive, thanks to your newly wedded husband Ruri Kazama. Herzog summoned Ruri with the clapper and put Chime Gen to sleep. You had tried to awake Chime, but you were not enough. Ruri had carried you all the way here, because you were dying, turning into Deadpool. He pierced you with his bones, and gave you his blood that could restrain the raging dragonblood in you. But even he had to admit that only the fetal blood of this so-called God could save you. 

But Herzog would never willingly share that divine fetal blood. Ruri would have to kill him for it.

On Herzog’s command, Ruri slit his wrist and dropped his blood into the water far far below. It wasn’t enough to fill a teaspoon but the God detected it and now rushed to the surface hungrily circling. The water below was stirred up by that frantic circling and formed a huge kilometer wide whirlpool.

Herzog had since moved to one of the engineering platforms to get a better view. "It can't wait! Let's give it some challenge and see how strong God really is!" The king general shouted, "Turn on the water turbine!''

The first test began with turning on the giant water turbine in the bottom of the well. It could spin up a powerful vortex which would drag everything swimming in the water towards the bottom of the well, but the huge target swam leisurely, completely undisturbed.

"Great! Bravo! See, now!  That is something that can change the rules, and the current cannot bind it!" The King General exclaimed. "Let's give it more of a challenge!"

You lean your lips close to Ruri Kazama’s ear. “Ruri? Can I ask you? Does Herzog know all these people by name?”

Ruri Kazama didn’t move or look at you, but he did answer. “Yes. They are all Devil Clan Elites. Survivors of the purge. The best and the strongest are all that are left of the Devil Clan who aren’t rotting in the black prisons.”

You turn and look at all the people gathered and working the equipment. Some was scarcely older than you. Some looked younger.

The second test began immediately as the head of the engineering team pressed a remote control and a violent explosion set off in the water, sending thousands of tons of water and mercury rushing upward. The Devil Clan had put 12 plastic explosives in the water, mixed with tens of thousands of steel balls. The explosion, combined with the ball bearings, was no less than hundreds of military shotguns firing in unison.

But on the sonar screen, the whale-sized target once again ignored this test as it swam unaffected through the flames of the blast.

“That was beautiful! Beautiful! That's the kind of power that can change the world!" King General Herzog was so excited that his voice trembled.

“Ruri? Did they know Herzog all their lives?” You asked, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Ruri didn’t answer immediately. He just glanced at you.

For the third test, the gates at the bottom of the well opened. These gates were covered with metal mesh, designed to filter dirt. The gates were so strong and the mesh so flexible that the mesh could be compared to the toughest fishing nets in the world. A whale going at full speed would be entangled.

But the target broke through gate after gate with the ease of a heated knife slicing through butter. 

You flinch as Ruri slides you off the spines sticking out of his body. As he settles you on the beam, your wounds immediately close up within seconds. “I think I know what you’re getting at.” Ruri said.

You nod silently looking down. Your heart is heavy. Some things never change in people. This was really Black Swan Bay, all over again. You feel something touch your arm. When you turn your eyes widen. “Where did you get that?”

Ruri smiled slyly, handing you your claw dagger. “I know where you’re staying.”

Your jaw drops. But then you shut it and snatch the dagger. “Rude!”

“You were stuck to me for an entire night. Your blood should be completely replaced at this point.” He said. The bones of his body snapped like someone popping the joints of their neck. The bone spines retract back into his chest. You shudder involuntarily.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven..." The engineering team leader counted the remaining gates as the target broke through the layers of obstruction and was about to reach the surface.

The operators at the bottom of the well were ducking into safety pods. They looked like the kind made of alloys, nanofibers and high-density polymers that could even block the shock waves of a nuclear blast so long as they weren’t at ground zero. You hum to yourself and make a note. 

The thing in the lake was still swimming in the water, but its roar thundered through the underground lake. The vibrations were so violent that the storage well was on the verge of collapse. Cracks crawled up the metal sheathing of the well walls. People pressed their ears even over noise cancelling headphones. It was the kind of roar that seemed to cut through one's skull and pierce directly into the depths of one's mind. It was a kind of funeral dirge - yet joyful - roar, like the god of death cursing the world in hell.

Only you, King General and Ruri Kazama remained calm. King General stood on the platform in the middle of the well wall, looking down without turning away, like he was sitting in a VIP box enjoying a master's performance, while Ruri Kazama still stood in the rain like a lonely soul, rainwater flowing down along his long hair. You just felt sad for all these people, like a doomsday prophet on a street holding a sign that read ‘the end is near’, knowing that you were right and no one would listen.

The surface of the water burst. Grayish-white stagnant water mixed with mercury rushed up to the sky. Thousands of lung snails were driven up violently like bullets and ricocheted, hitting the wall of the well with a popping sound, their hard shells completely shattered, their bodies turned into a goo-like substance stuck to the wall of the well. A plain white shadow cloaked in grayish-white water rose up to the sky with the speed of a cannonball. But gravity quickly reduced its speed. It found support before it fell, by grabbing the layers of iron scaffolding on the wall of the well, and climbed upward at high speed. It was about the size of an orca, with an estimated weight of over ten tons, and those iron frames simply could not support its weight, crumbling in layers below it.

The King applauds vigorously, shifting from looking down to looking up, watching the large creatures devastating advance

    Snowy lights came on with sharp thudding noises, and the beast was finally presented to all eyes. It was wrapped in white filaments, looking like a giant cocoon, but with a hideously long tail trailing below.

Its movements were so fast that no one could see how such a cocoon-like thing with a tail was climbing. The long, bony tail lashed against the wall of the well, sloughing off the metal plates on the wall in rows, and the metal fragments mixed with the bodies of the lung snails as they rained down.

The four Vulcan cannons set up on the maintenance platform roared to life, pouring streams of steel into the well that exploded in gray-green smoke. 

“More mercury?” You ask.

“No. Anesthesia.” Ruri said.

“Uh…” You glance at him uncertainly. If Ruri Kazama’s rampage through the Takamagahara nightclub taught you anything, it was that dragons were something beyond any other life form. How could you knock out something like this with laughing gas?

 The cocoon coat made of white filaments was torn by the bullet rain, and the pale white hatchling experienced pain for the first time and let out a shrill hiss into the sky.

Your heart starts beating wildly and you’re suddenly filled with dread. You remembered how fast Ruri Kazama was, how deadly. How helpless everyone was before him. And he wasn’t even a full blooded dragon! Up until now, you’d only faced lowly deadpool and were barely above deadpool yourself. But deadpool were always the toughest and most dangerous compared to humans, powerfully strong and near bullet proof. Only by specific strategy, proper weapons, speed and stamina could you hope to escape with your lives against lowly deadpool.

You’d never seen a real dragon before. This was a real dragon!

The Vulcan cannons predictably failed to slow the thing down and it broke away with an unstoppable tenacity. A few Devil Clan members below you shouldered massive rocket launchers and fired. These were not aimed at the god itself, but at the stairs it used to ascend, the iron construction scaffolding, all of which crumbled in the explosion from top to bottom. The god fell with the debris of the iron frame, and the Vulcan cannons were still raining down on it.

Something clicks in your head. If you stop this thing from climbing out, that means no one else could climb out either. Your eyes roll back to Herzog who waves at you from the engineering platform.

He’s aware. The bastard.

The dragon was furious. This time it let out a roar of rage instead of a scream of pain. Pale white tentacles burst the last of its cocoon coat and violently grabbed the smooth well wall.

"Yamata-no-Orochi!" The head of the engineering team said in a groaning voice.

The myth became a reality before his eyes. Instead of tentacles, what grabbed the well wall was eight curved dragon necks. The beast with eight heads and sharp teeth bit into the well wall. Its lower limbs are deformed and short, so it uses the eight heads as feet, climbing with movements like an eight-legged spider. Those long, slender snake-like necks curled and stretched. Eight pairs of golden eyes were like candles that flooded the well with their light. It is clearly climbing up, but in the eyes of everyone it is the devil from the sky.

Only Herzog saluted with a hand over the heart, excitedly exclaiming: "What a specimen!”

Although it had  a huge body, because it is still in its infancy, that body looks withered. However, it is athletic and swift. As it crawled through cracks in the metal panels, rocks shattered, and red lwarning lights lit up layer by layer. Step by step it approached success, Vulcan cannons and rocket launchers kept blowing dazzling fire on it. Blood oozed from the god's pale scales, and part of its dorsal ridges were torn apart by the explosion, revealing the ghastly white spine. But it still climbed upwards without slowing down. It had just detached itself from the cocoon, and once it left this place, it only needed a moment's respite to regain more strength, and then it could easily destroy these tiny creatures.

“And this is a baby…?” You breathed. “God damn…”

“You understand now?” Ruri said. “You remember the history of the Light King. The Dark King took great pains to destroy her.”

“How could we ever do it? Yeah… I get it.” You answer. “Humans… can’t kill dragons.” You look down at the dagger in your hand. “Only… dragons can kill dragons.” You turn your eyes up at him. “Right? That’s why you’re here?”

Ruri’s eyes were fixed below. “We’re here…”

“But I’m not strong enough to…” You blink.

“Get ready, regardless.”

"Go! Go! Let me see how far the inquisitive creature can go!'' The king pumps his fist in admiration, his tone filled with divine wonder while also cheering like he’s at a sporting event.

A single missile exploded where the god was clinging to the wall, destroying part of the well wall. The impact caused the god to slump uncontrollably as it was unable to hold onto it. But the sharp teeth caused marks several feet deep in the wall, and it held on.

 "Awesome! That's how it should be! How can a mundane weapon hurt a god's body?" The king high-fives the engineers around him, as if he had not formulated the plan to stop the god, and he sincerely expected the thing to escape from here.

White ropes bounced off the wall of the well and wrapped around the god. The ropes were no wider than a finger but the fibers weaving them were nanofibers. Each nano-rope can lift the Trieste and countless nano-ropes form a huge net strong enough to stop a navy destroyer. The god tried to break through several times, but failed, and a single missile focused on its abdomen and exploded, blowing it into a fountain of blood. The god could no longer rise even one meter. It was still struggling though and the more it struggled, the tighter the net became around it.

"It's working! It's captured!" The cheers of the engineering team came to your ears from below where you stood on the upper cross beam with Ruri.

"Captured it? Is capturing God so easy? Wrong, so wrong!" You whisper. 

A floating arc of light flashed, brighter even than the floodlights illuminating the cavern, like the arc of a supreme sword. A second later, a neat slice severed the superstrong material and God was freed from his bondage.

Suddenly, the King started screaming in Japanese. It sounded like a rush of syllables you didn’t understand.

“In the legend, Susanoo killed Yamata No Orochi and pulled a sword from its tail. That sword was called Sword of the Gathering Clouds of Heaven… roughly.” Ruri said.

“That’s what that thing is?” You asked.

“It’s how humans chose to understand it.”

“I get the feeling I should be going to school with you and not Cassell.” You mutter.

Ruri suddenly moves as though a switch had turned on. The god had revealed its greatest weapon and was rapidly making its way up without obstruction.  Nothing can stop the god's escape any longer. Above it is the mouth of the well and once it reaches that mouth, it is free. It dances its sword tail and continues to climb. Its scales audibly clatter like chainmail, sealing its body to resist the power of a missile blasts. It traversed the flames of the explosions, and its eight heads danced wildly, only yards away from you. Staring into those golden eyes you felt a confusing mix of joy, challenge, rage and hunger.

You had fought with Chisei Gen in awe of his great strength and brute unstoppable force, but Ruri Kazama was otherworldly, hardly human at all. It was a state of mind that you never really entered, like someone who ran through blood like a child splashing through rain puddles. You weren’t sure you wanted to go there.

But Ruri Kazama granted you no choice, shoving you forcefully into the well. The wind whipped by you and you descended uncontrollably toward a gaping maw.

A chant in an ancient and mysterious language descends behind you and passes you in a roaring white shadow. 

Ruri Kazama had jumped from the steel crossbeam and landed straight towards that same gaping maw. Both of your bodies put together are only one percent of this god’s, and such tiny targets should have been ignored by the god or sliced away with a casual swing of that heavenly sword tail, but from the moment the chanting began, the narrow snake-like glowing eyes widened with awe.

Ruri Kazama’s blade spun in a horizontal arc and the pale white head that threatened to eat you a second ago rose to the sky with a gushing, spinning fountain of blood. He’d chopped that head clean off! He caught you on the crook of his arm and tossed you again.

 In excruciating pain, the god released all the heads attached to the wall of the well and surrounded Ruri Kazama who landed on one, but Ruri Kazama swung his long sword and knocked back those hardened dragon heads towards you. You immediately understand and plunge your dagger into the beast’s glowing eyes. The hooked claw catches on the orbital bone. The beast drops its head, intending to throw you into the well, but you release and go sailing to the other side. A head is chasing you to devour you but Ruri Kazama’s blade makes a dazzling crimson flash in the dark and that head's eyes wink out like an extinguished candle. 

The Deadpool’s claw is enough to dig into the armored scales. You gather courage and fearlessly score long bleeding lines as you slide down the limp neck towards the body and stab again and again and again! Both of you and the monster rolled together and descended, leaving large splashes of blood on the wall of the well. Ruri’s sword is sending blinding sparks on the scales. The god is roaring and wailing and Ruri Kazama is letting out a roar more terrible than the god every time it so much as snapped at you.

It wasn’t that Ruri needed your help necessarily. He needed an outlet for a feeling that he couldn’t understand. It was the feeling of having something and then a great hand coming to take it away from you. It was that sharp, offended feeling that brought out the greatest ferocity in the heart of every breathing thing. 

To keep what one has, every living creature will draw blood!

It wasn't a dragon slaying at all. It was monsters entangled in a mutual slaughter to tear and chew each other up. It only took ten seconds to fall from the wellhead to the bottom of the well, but it was those ten seconds of roaring and wailing that no one dared to listen to, the sound of a lifetime of nightmares, like evil spirits feasting on muscles and tendons and bleeding between their grinding teeth.

Perhaps it was a greater mistake to allow something like Ruri Kazama to live in this world than to awaken a god.

The heavy body of the god fell into the water, splashing a giant wave more than ten meters high, and Ruri Kazama hung unflinchingly on the wall of the well, his long clothes dangling, like a ghost that had hung there years ago. You were back in his arms like nothing had happened, breathing hard, your head spinning with the thrill of it all. 

But then your heart falls.

The battle ended with a tragic victory for Ruri Kazama. The god was already badly wounded before reaching the top of the well, and Ruri Kazama cut off four of its heads. But he himself paid a heavy price. His back muscles looked like they were plowed by iron, and his abdomen was left with a huge wound, but he did not show any expression of pain. He just hung there, looking up at the sky.

“He’s coming.” He said quietly. He turned to you. “You should hide.”

[reverseblackholeofwords]

What is Darkipoo getting for his bday??

Wilford insists that Dark opens his present first, and even though Dark knows what it’s going to be because it’s the same thing every year, he still agrees. He opens the small pink box which explodes glitter in his face upon opening it and pulls out an eyeliner pen. Dark smirks. “Thank you, Will. You’re very original…”

Wilford bats his eyes at him innocently and grins.

“Us next!” Ollie presents Dark with a box wrapped in an assortment of the Googles’ colors along with black.

“Yeah, I mighta chipped in a little,” Anti says, crossing his arms defensively.

Dark cautiously opens the box, but rather than exploding, there are a few scattered cranes along with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones designed and built by the five Googles. Dark puts them on and tries them out and even when Wilford volunteers to demonstrate by shooting his gun right by Dark’s ear, they still hold up. “Thank you,” Dark says and then smacks Wilford in the back of the head.

Doc and Host present their gift of an antique pair of silver cufflinks in the shapes of Celtic knots. Host smiles and nods towards Dark. “Those are supposed to bring inner strength, for when you need it most,” he says.

Dark frowns at the Host, unsure of what that’s supposed to mean, but Doc quickly taps his shoulder. “Go ahead, try them on and see if you like them.”

So he does, and they do suit him quite well. He rubs his thumb over one of them and smiles. “Thank you both. It’s very… thoughtful.”

Ed and Silver’s gift is next, and Dark opens it to find a fine pair of white gloves inside. “For the most formal of occasions,” Silver tells him. “Aren’t they just divine?”

Dark smirks and looks up at Ed. “You helped pick these out, did you?”

Ed rubs his nose. “Well, uh, yeah sorta.”

Dark chuckles and gives a nod to Silver. “Thank you for the gift. I’m sure I’ll use them.” Everyone laughs a little, and then all eyes turn to Bim.

There are no more boxes left, and Wilford raises an eyebrow as Bim goes and takes the stage. “My gift,” he begins as a single spotlight illumines his stance, “is not the physical sort.” He looks around at all of them, putting on his best showman’s voice. “But rather, it is an experience, one meant for all of us, not just Dark.”

He pulls something from his pocket, nearly the size of a pen. As he twirls it through his fingers, however, it grows to the full length of a cane, Dark’s cane. Dark jumps to his feet, and his shell cracks wildly as Bim smiles ever so sweetly and lifts the cane into the air. “So gentlemen, let’s get started, shall we?”

He smacks the end of the cane against the stage, and all the lights go black.

[promotionalwears12-blog]

Why do we give Diwali gifts to clients or employees? What are the best Diwali gift ideas for clients and employees profession wise?

Diwali, the festival of lights, is the most important religious event of Hindus, celebrated with pomp and gaiety by millions globally. Exchanging gifts during this pious occasion to express gratitude has long become an established tradition. Almost everybody, from a 10-year old youngster to a nonagenarian, exchanges gifts to show admiration and love towards one another.

The festival also offers the perfect occasion for companies, big and small, to acknowledge the contribution of clients and employees by presenting corporate Diwali gifts. Giving gifts to employees on Diwali makes them feel special and boosts their morale, thereby encouraging them to work towards personal and professional development. On the other hand, offering special Diwali gifts to clients goes a long way in promoting your business.

Your clients and employees are two of the most vital groups of stakeholders, playing a key role in the advancement of your business. Therefore, bestowing gifts to your employees and customers on the auspicious occasion of Diwali helps establish a lasting bond with them. You should take extra care while choosing Diwali gifts for employees and Diwali gifts for clients.    

Ensure that the Diwali gifts for employees and Diwali gifts for clients you select are customized and have a personal touch.

 Best Diwali Gifts for Clients

There’s no gainsaying that customers are the lifeblood of your business. Your clients are the be-all and end-all of your company or business enterprise. So, making them feel valued and keeping them in good humor, especially on festive occasions like Diwali matters a lot. Present gifts to clients which they can use, and make sure to package it nicely, adorning the package with colorful embellishments.  

Bestowing Diwali gifts for clients printed with the name and logo of your company keeps your customers enthused and happy. Most importantly, giving away Diwali gifts for clients embossed with the company’s logo facilitates brand promotion and advertisement. Engraving the name of the customer on the present or souvenir will make the Diwali gifts for clients more personalized.      

  §  Top Diwali gifts for young female clients-Make your young female customers feel special and connect with the woman inside them by gifting chocolate boxes, aromatic candles, cookware, Laxmi and Ganesha idols. You can also pick from gold plated cuff bracelets, Ganesha pendant earrings, photo frames, hand blenders, and air fryers.

§  Exclusive Diwali gifts for young male clients-Gift smartphone covers, cuff links, pen drives, power banks, Bluetooth headphones, noise cancellation headsets, and gift checks to young male clients as tokens of acknowledgment. Bring a smile to their lips by gifting them    

§  Select Diwali gifts for senior clients-Offer membership to an elderly club or activity center, blanket sets, spectacles case, multi-compartment box, cozy shoes and slippers, gardening kit, tea hampers, and handcrafted personalized bookmarks.

Top Trending Diwali Gifts for Employees

Your employees serve as valuable human resources, helping your business thrive and stay competitive. Members of your staff make a concerted effort every day to make your company grow and prosper. Apart from the occasional raise and performance-based incentives, presenting a valuable gift during Diwali, makes your staff members feel valued.

Pick and choose Diwali gifts for employees based on their personality type, and their interests and preferences. For instance, if some of your staff members are soccer or baseball enthusiasts, gift them sports merchandise like a sports tee or cap. Strengthen the rapport with your members of staff by tagging a handwritten thank you note on the packaging of Diwali gift for employees.

 §  Best Diwali gifts for young male employees-Some of the trending Diwali gifts for male employees who’re young are media streaming devices, robotic vacuum cleaner, gym membership, coffee maker, poker kit, grooming kit, and smartwatch.

§  Trendy Diwali gifts for young female employees-Strengthen your bonding with young female employees by gifting them eco-friendly household cleaning kit, spa hamper dark chocolate box, and beauty, jewelry, and accessories boxes.

§  Memorable Diwali gifts for elder employees- Express your reverence towards and appreciation for elderly employees by presenting them a couple watches, gourmet food basket, air purifier, ornamental bowl set, and diyas with divinity statues 

Unique Diwali Gift Ideas Profession Wise or by Nature of Business

    Chic Diwali gifts for IT     professionals –IT professionals form an indispensable a segment     of the workforce and therefore are always in demand. Profession     wise Diwali gifts ideas would include a laptop bag, mousepads,     smartphone charger, credit card pen drive, wireless mouse, USB flash     drive, and fitness tracker band.

    Cool Diwali gifts for sales and     marketing personnel- The sales and marketing team forms the core     of your firm, helping promote your product or service. Appreciate their     contribution by gifting them tabletop organizer, travel case, notepads,     laptop bags, personalized stationery, and customized diary with bookmark

Hip Diwali gifts for vendors-Suppliers and distributors are instrumental in helping     maintain and update your inventory. Make them feel happy and let them     celebrate without any inhibitions by offering those Laxmi and Ganesha     idols, decorative candles, aromatic diyas, lucky bamboo, and dry fruits     combo, and bonsai plants.

 Elegant Diwali gifts for accounting staff-Accountants     help maintain records of financial transactions. Keep them in high spirits     during Diwali by gifting them personalized leather visiting card holder,     customized laptop folder, balance sheet card, wireless vertical mouse, and     diary with power bank

[artificialqueens]

Read My Mind (Trixya) - Candy For Children

A/N: Hey! So this is my first time writing a fic in a few years, but I had this idea and wrote it all tonight in a mad dash! I’m thinking I will probably write more of this at some point soon, because I am pretty happy with how it turned out. I’d love any constructive criticism, Hope you enjoy! Also this is a AHS Coven AU, but I play a little fast and loose with the rules of the universe.

Summary: Trixie is a clairvoyant witch, sent to study at Mrs. Charles’s Academy for Gifted Girls, where she meets another young witch named Katya, and sparks fly (no pun intended).

The train wasn’t like it was in the movies Trixie had seen. In them the train had always been a place for quiet, often solemn, contemplation. Lonely attractive people would watch as the countryside zipped past, and think about their broken hearts, or the difficult choices they had to make, or whatever else they had to think about that could fill up a two minute montage before the resolution of the film.

But unfortunately, the train wasn’t a quiet place for Trixie. It was boomingly loud. Buzzing with the “quiet” contemplation of the other passengers, and though she wished she didn’t Trixie heard every word. According to her mother Trixie was cursed with clairvoyance. That’s what she  had said before sending her off to god knows where with nothing but a jam packed duffle bag, and her guitar. She had been taken from her home to the train by the woman who was sitting next to her, Ms. Monsoon. Ms. Monsoon said that Trixie’s abilities were a “gift” which was why she was taking her to Mrs. Charles’s Academy for Gifted Girls. Trixie didn’t buy that for a second.

Should I tell her I’ve been cheating? No Chuck, it’s not cheating if you only kissed. You know Nancy wouldn’t think of it that way.

The thoughts of the pudgy middle aged man sitting on the other side of the train car played through Trixie’s mind, and she shook her head trying to get them to stop. No sooner however after his had stopped did another voice start, this time female and coming from right behind her.

I’ll walk right up to her and say “No Mother, you can’t talk to me that way, I’m an adult now” yes that’s what I’ll do.

Trixie focused all of her energy into stopping the voices, and to her surprise, she succeeded. All was quiet. For about thirty seconds. Then she heard Ms. Monsoon’s voice. For a moment she didn’t realize what was happening, and she looked over to see what the woman was saying to her. That’s when she realized the red haired woman was not talking to her, merely looking at her.

Poor girl… They’re going to eat her alive.

Trixie snapped her head forward and rummaged through her bag. She took out the huge noise cancelling headphones, and plugged them into her phone. An hour later she was asleep, snoring fitfully to the sounds of Dolly Parton’s greatest hits.

-

“The academy was founded many many years ago, by then Supreme Ms. Rupaul Charles.” Ms. Monsoon smiled and looked at Trixie as they stepped up to the front gate. The school was huge, and white, with big white pillars and a wrap around porch. It was beautiful, but it made Trixie uneasy, like a angel statue at a cemetery.

“Supreme?” Trixie asked, tearing her eyes away from the building.

“The leader of the coven. The most powerful witch alive at any given time. The current supreme lives here at the academy, but I’m afraid she’s in Paris on business at the moment so you won’t get to meet her right away. But you have plenty of people to meet in the meantime!” Ms. Monsoon leaned forward and opened the wrought iron gate, and began to lead Trixie up the brick path that cut through the front yard. After opening the front door she turned, smiling warmly at her, and ushered her through the entryway to a grand curving staircase that appeared to be set at the heart of the building. “Up the stairs now darling, let’s get you settled in”

At the top of the stairs they were met with two long hallways that forked off, leading away from each other. Ms. Monsoon led them to the left. As Trixie walked past the rows of closed doors, she could hear little snippets of thoughts from within the rooms.

If we have lasagna for dinner again tonight I’m going to fucking scream.

You shouldn’t look at her like that, she’s almost twice your age, what’s wrong with you?

It’s not your fault, It’s not your fault, It’s not your fault.

“Earth to Trixie!”

Trixie was startled out of her, or rather someone else’s, thoughts, by Ms. Monsoon waving her hand in front of her face.

“Sorry, I must have zoned out a little.” Trixie said, forcing a little smile onto her face. They were standing in front of the last door at the end of the hallway.

“That’s quite alright, it happens to the best of us.” Ms. Monsoon replied, and then opened the door, “Most of the girls room in pairs, but due to your unique condition we all agreed it best you room alone. We wouldn’t want to add to any sleeping issues I’m sure you’re already having. There was a young girl with the same gift as you during my time at the Academy. Never slept a wink poor thing.” She smiled, and opened the door for Trixie to walk into the room. “I’ll leave you to get settled in. Dinner is at 7, we’re having lasagna, you won’t want to miss it.” The chipper woman smiled one last time, yanked Trixie into a hug, and then left, clicking the door softly behind her.

Trixie sighed and looked around her at the room. It was fairly sized, but stark and cold, and nothing like the warmth of the familiar cotton candy pink she had back home. Where she was used to clutter and posters, and pictures and stuffed animals, she was met with white, sterile, blank surfaces. The walls were white, the bed clothes were white, the drapes were white, even the floors were stained with a white wash. It reminded Trixie of the padded cells she saw in the shitty B horror movies she used to watch with her friends back home.

She decided however, instead of crying about her lot, she may as well make the best of it. After putting her headphones back on, setting ‘Islands in the Stream’ to repeat, and putting her guitar in a safe corner of the room, she set to work.

-

An hour later she sat on her bed and surveyed her work. It wasn’t perfect but it would have to do. A pink scarf covered her bedside lamp, basking the room in a warmer glow than before. The few pictures she had brought with her, polaroids of her friends and mom hung above her bed, and a few other scarfs were placed strategically around her room as if they were throw blankets or wall hangings.

For the first time all day she felt herself actually smile. A small smile, but at least this time it was genuine.

Not a second later Trixie was startled out of her thoughts when a girl suddenly appeared right in front of her.

The girl was tall and slender with big lips, sharp eyebrows, and blond hair piled on top of her head in a sort of half beehive. Trixie didn’t notice any of that though, she was too busy screaming. The girl looked on, unimpressed, as Trixie wheezed panicked breaths and looked between the intruder, and the unopened door.

“I was sent to bring you down for dinner… when you’re done screaming…” The girl said in a low droning voice and rolled her eyes slightly.

“I- uh- I, sorry.” Trixie stuttered, managing to calm down ever so slightly “You startled me.”

“It’s alright, I forgot you’re new. you aren’t really used to us yet huh?” She smiled, then turned and walked to the door, pulling it open and standing in the doorway. “We really should get to dinner. We don’t want to be late or there won’t be anything left.” And with that she turned and started walking.

Trixie stared after her for a second, before getting a hold of herself and rushing after her. “What you did back there, what was it? You just sort of appeared?”

“Transmutation. The ability to jump from place to place in the blink of an eye.”

“Is that something… all of us can do?” Trixie asked, excited at the prospect of learning to teleport.

“No.” Alaska said, then at Trixie’s disappointed look added “A few of the other girls have it too, so who knows about you. But I’m the only one with the power of Divination.” She smiled proudly and started walking down the stairs.

“Like in Harry Potter?”

The girl stopped and looked at Trixie as if she had just slapped a baby, “No. Not like Harry Potter.” She started walking again, “You’ve got a lot to learn Barbie.”

“Trixie.”

“What?”

“My name is Trixie.”

“Oh, well nice to meet you Trixie, I’m Alaska.”

“That’s an interesting name.”

“Yeah, my parents fucked in a Wendy’s bathroom in Wasilla, and 9 months later I popped out. So my mom thought Alaska was the perfect name. Cause Jenny or whatever would be too easy to explain.”

“I like Alaska, it suits you.”

“Yeah, I like it too.” The girl smiled and then stopped in front of a set of large oak doors. From the other side Trixie could hear the clamor of many different conversations. “You ready?”

Trixie’s eyes darted from the doors to Alaska and then back again. “Yes?”

Alaska nodded her head, “don’t worry you’ve got this.” she said and then pushed the big doors open.

The dining room was beautiful. All reds and browns, lit up by candles and a extravagant chandelier that hung above a large mahogany table at the center of the room. Trixie glanced around the room and counted 8 girls and 4 women sitting at the table, with three empty seats scattered about, two of which Trixie assumed were for her and Alaska.

Alaska pointed at an empty chair between a girl with sleek grey hair and Ms. Monsoon, she then went and sat at her own seat between a gorgeous blond and a girl with ink black hair who was glaring down at her food. Trixie didn’t particularly want to sit next to Ms. Monsoon. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the woman, she was perfectly lovely, and the type of person she would normally love to spend time with, but she kept giving her pitying looks when Trixie thought she couldn’t see them. And there was always something about strong personalities that made their thoughts the loudest. For the moment though it seemed her brain had decided to give her a break. She hadn’t heard a single one of Alaska’s thoughts during their brief trip from Trixie’s room to the dining room, and now that they were here all she could hear was the chatter of the witches sat round the table. She was confused, but as she took her seat she decided to enjoy it rather than think about it too much.

“Hi Ms. Monsoon.” Trixie said with a smile turning to the older woman, receiving a bright toothy grin in response.

“Hello Trixie! Get settled in alright?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“I know how hard it can be being the new girl.” She frowned and looked at Trixie with pity in her eyes, but then brightened up and looked past her to the grey haired girl, “Max was actually the most recent addition to the academy before you showed up. Been here, what two months?”

“Three months tomorrow.” The girl said with a smile and an accent that Trixie thought might be british. She was very pretty. Incredibly pale, with a perfectly circular beauty mark on her cheek. Trixie wondered if it was real. The girl was suddenly sticking her hand out for Trixie to shake. “Max Malanaphy, pleased to meet you darling.” When Trixie took the girl’s hand she stiffened a little, and her eyes widened. Trixie thought her hands must have been very cold, or sweaty, but then Max’s eyes darted to the only empty chair left at the table, and she let out a little giggle. A second later she seemed to realize what she’d done and said sheepishly, “Sorry about that, long day.”

“Of course, I understand” Trixie said, not understanding in the slightest.

Suddenly one of the women sitting at the head of the table stood up and began to address the room. “Ladies, Ladies, settle down. We have a new sister with us today.” The woman was beautiful. She wore a boat neck dress and her hair was in an impeccably curled updo on top of her head. “I’d like us all to go around the table and- Where the fuck is Zamolodchikova?”

“She wasn’t in our room earlier.” Alaska drawled.

The woman grit her teeth, “Goddamn it. Well, I guess we’ll have to deal with that when she gets back. We aren’t going to wait for her to eat. If the food is gone when she’s back then the food is gone she knows the rules.” The woman sighed “In any case. This is our newest sister Trixie. I want us all to go around the room and introduce ourselves to her. Alright? Can we do that without getting distracted” the girls all laughed and nodded. “Alright. I will start. I am Ms. Del Rio. But all the girls call me Bianca, because Ms. Del Rio makes me feel old. You’ve already met Ms. Monsoon, these two lovely ladies next to me are Mrs. Edwards, and Mrs. Royale.” She gestured to a grinning woman with curly brown hair, and a larger woman with one of the kindest faces Trixie had ever had the pleasure of seeing. They both smiled at her. “We are all teachers here, and we’ll make sure you leave this academy a competent and confident witch. Alright, Miss Delano?”

At the sound of her name a pretty round faced girl, probably a few years younger than Trixie perked up. Bright white teeth emerged from behind her charcoal lips. “I’m Adore.” She said smiling

“And what are you in for?” Bianca said her voice a friendly bark, causing the girls around the table giggle again.

“Telekinesis, that’s it so far. Most of the girls here can move stuff too though.” She smiled, but it wasn’t as bright as before.

“Don’t worry doll, you’ll get there.” Bianca said, and patted the girl’s hand. Adore smiled and blushed turning back to Trixie and smiling once more.

After Adore came a girl named Fame, who, just like Adore, had telekinesis, but could also resist the magic of any other witches, which sounded to Trixie like something that could come in handy. After Fame was Naomi who could control people with her mind, and do the same teleport thing Alaska could do. After Naomi came an oddly familiar face.

“Kim?” Trixie gasped

“I was wondering when you’d recognize me!” The round faced girl laughed.

“I barely did under all that make up! The last time I saw you you weren’t even allowed to wear tinted chapstick!” Trixie laughed and got up to run around the table and give the girl a hug, “I haven’t seen you since 5th grade! What are you doing here?”

“Well remember that pomeranian my grandma had when we were little? Gadget?”

“He peed on me three times, how could I forget?” Trixie laughed.

“Well this one night, my grandma was watching me at her house, and I accidentally fed him a snickers bar, because I didn’t know dogs weren’t supposed to eat chocolate. He died, and my grandma was so upset. I didn’t want her to be upset and I was so sad, and I was petting Gadget’s body while my grandma called the vet, and I guess I just brought him back to life? Turns my great great grandmother was a witch. Grandma thought that the stories were just stories, but then I happened. So the next day she convinced my mom to ship me here. And I’ve been here ever since.”

“Wow.” Trixie breathed, not quite sure what to say. When Kim had up and moved away out of the blue just days before the last day of fifth grade, it’s safe to say that ‘witch who can resurrect the dead’ was not one of the explanations Trixie had thought of. “That’s incredible. It’s so good to see a familiar face.” She smiled and hugged the girl one more time.

“It’s good to see you too, now go sit down and eat, you have more people to meet, we can catch up later.”

Trixie did what she was told, and looked to the next girl, still a little dumbstruck from Kim’s story. Next was the blond that Alaska had sat down next to. When she spoke it was with a heavy Australian accent, “I’m Courtney, I got sent here when my parents caught me making my teachers let me cut class with my mind.”

Trixie nodded and smiled, turning to Alaska who was discreetly putting something in her pocket, after a moment, Trixie realized it was a ziplock baggie filled with lasagna. “We’ve already met.” Alaska smiled.

Next was the black haired girl with the stern looking face. She looked up from where she was eating, and stared at Trixie. “I’m Violet.”

“What do you do?” Trixie asked with a smile, it was interesting to hear what tricks all the other girls had up their sleeves.

Violets eyes darkened “Don’t worry about it.”

The room went quiet for a moment, everyone clearly uncomfortable. Then, for the first time during the entire meal Trixie heard someone’s voice inside her head. She couldn’t be sure who thought it, but she could make out the words as clear as day.

Black Widow.

Trixie struggled to keep a neutral expression, “That’s fine,” she smiled, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Violet offered a tight lipped smile, and then went back to stabbing at her food with her fork.

The next girl was Pearl, a blond who, when she slapped her own face somehow made Trixie feel the blow, “It’s called injury transference, but I like to say i’m a Voodoo Doll. Sounds more punk.”

“It’s not punk if you say it’s punk girl” Adore laughed from her spot next to Fame.

After Pearl was the empty chair that Trixie assumed must belong to whoever Zamolodchikova was, and then Max.

“And we’ve already met Darling.” Max said, and paused, “But I’ve got the sight.”

“Like, seeing into the future?”

“The future, the past, whatever the universe wants me to see.” She said with a flourish of her hands. A few girls around the table rolled their eyes, but it made Trixie laugh.

At that moment the phone rang, and Bianca stood up to go get it.

The girls ate and chattered quietly, until suddenly there was a clamoring at the front door. A whirlwind of plaid and leather stumbled into the house. Sprinting, yet still somehow tip toeing, until coming to rest in the seat next to Max.

The whirlwind was a girl. And boy was she something.

Trixie couldn’t take her eyes off of her. Sharp cheekbones and a sharper jaw line, full cherry red lips, and heaps of platinum blond hair that fell around her shoulders like drapery and rested against her chest. She was wrapped in a hideous combination of clashing plaids and seemed to be wearing leather pants, boots, and gloves, yet somehow it all suited her. When she smiled at the table, two sets of perfect white teeth revealed themselves, and when she began to talk, it was quick and in between heavy gasps for air.

“Sorry I’m late” a breath, “I ran all the way here, “a breath, ”I got caught up,” a breath, “at the pawn shop,” a breath, “Whats up?” She smiled.

“We have a new member of the coven” Naomi said, and gestured to Trixie, “This is Trixie.”

When the newcomer’s eyes suddenly met hers, Trixie realized she was still staring, and quickly averted her gaze.

“Hello Tracy.” The hello was long and drawn out, and it made trixie blush, “I’m-”

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova” Bianca’s angry voice came from the doorway.

“I was going to say Katya. Everyone calls me Katya.” The blond, -Katya- said with a wink in Trixie’s direction. “Yes Bianca?”

“Don’t ‘Yes Bianca’ me. You know what time dinner is. This is the third time this week you’ve been late. What’s your excuse this time?”

“I was at the pawn shop!”

“Doing what exactly.”

“I dunno, looking for stuff! I lost track of time. You know how I am.’

“Yes I do, but that can’t be an excuse any more.” The girls around the table all made ‘oooh’ noises. “Not helping ladies.”

“I really am sorry. It was an accident.” Katya said, and she did look genuinely sorry.

“I know it was, that’s why I’m giving you one last chance before the consequences start.”

Katya looked like she wanted to argue, but then cast her eyes down. “Yes mam.”

The rest of dinner passed very quickly, since the food was already gone by that point, and much to Trixie’s immense disappointment, she did not get another opportunity to talk to Katya.

-

Trixie went to bed before the rest of the girls. She had had a long day and she was tired. She had been lying in her darkened room for about an hour, unable to sleep, when she heard voices outside her door. She got up and crept to the other side of her room, and pressed her ear to the wall and listened.

“I can’t keep saving away food for you Katya.” Alaska’s voice came, slightly muffled, and sounding tired.

“I know, I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again. I won’t even go out tomorrow. I promise. Thank you though I- hold on. Did you- never mind thank you for the food. I’m gonna eat it out here, I know you hate food in the room.”

A sigh.

“Alright. Goodnight Katya.”

“Gnight.”

Trixie waited a few more seconds, but couldn’t hear anything else. She shrugged to herself and turned around, almost letting out a shriek when she found Katya sitting on her bed eating lasagna out of a little plastic bag.

“I knew I heard you listening in on us. Hear anything juicy?” The girl smiled, her bright red lips stretching to show her upper and lower teeth, in a smile that would have been unflattering on most people, but for some reason, not on her.

“Fuck. Can everyone here do that? And if so can they please stop doing it in my room?”

“Nope, just Alaska, Naomi and me.” She smiled, “And I can’t make any promises.”

“Can’t make any promises to what?”

“To stop using it to pop in on you. Not when you turn that cute shade of pink when you’re scared.”

Trixie blushed. “I wasn’t scared, just startled bitch!”

Katya laughed, a loud blast of noise, and put the last bite of lasagna into her mouth. “Alright Tracy, alright! I think you and I might just get along.”

“It’s Trixie. And please don’t put your shoes on the bed.”

“I know it is, Tracy.” She replied, and instead of taking her shoes off, or moving to sit with her legs off the side of the bed, she lifted her feet into the air and left them there, her body bent in half as if there were a wall to support her legs.

Trixie blushed again. She couldn’t seem to stop doing that. “Flexible.” She said, eloquently.

“So you noticed?” Katya smiled and winked. “Mom wanted me to be a gymnast before I went all Carrie. She thought I was the first woman in our family not to have the gift, but turns out I was just a late bloomer.” She took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and stuck one in her mouth. It lit without her so much as looking at a book of matches.

Trixie gasped and went to sit down next to her on the bed, forgetting momentarily how much she disliked the smell of cigarettes, “How did you do that?”

“A little slow on the uptake aren’t we Barbie” Katya laughed, and then whispered “It’s magic.” and did jazz hands.

Trixie rolled her eyes and shoved the girl in the shoulder, “Yeah I assumed that cunt. It’s just, no one else talked about being able to make fire.”

“Well, that’s me, the little fire bug. Pyrokinesis. What about you? What do you do?” She asked taking a long drag from her cigarette and smiling up at trixie.

“I can hear people’s thoughts.”

Katya shot upright, her legs slamming down on the bed to the side of Trixie. “You’re clairvoyant? No fucking way. We haven’t got one of you yet. Okay mama, what am I thinking?” She stared deep into Trixie’s eyes, and moved so that her face was inches from the other girls.

Trixie was uncomfortable for a second, she was tense. Beautiful icy blue eyes stared into hers, and the mind reader had to fight not to get lost in them. That is until Katya’s thought rang through her mind.

Send nudes.

Trixie shrieked a laugh and pushed the other girl away from her. “You whore, oh my god.”

Katya was laughing too hard to respond, rolling around on the bed and flapping her hands about like some type of seal. Finally she caught her breath and sat up, still giggling a little. “You’re fun Tracy. After classes tomorrow we should hang out.”

“I could be talked into that.” Trixie said quietly with a little smile. And then neither of them were talking, and there was that tension again. Katya looked like she was going to say something, when her eyes darted up to behind Trixie’s shoulder. Trixie looked behind her, and sucked in a breath and grasped at her chest. Alaska had appeared behind her again.

“I really wish you guys would stop doing that. Just use the door like a normal person.”

“A)…” Alaska said “I’m not a normal person. And B) I did use the door. You two were just too wrapped up in whatever it was you were doing to notice.”

Trixie blushed, that wasn’t like her.

“Anyway…” the slim girl turned to Katya, “It’s almost midnight. You should really be getting sleep, because you know that Bianca is going to be hard on you tomorrow in class.”

Katya looked back to Trixie and sighed, “Yeah you’re probably right.” She winked at Trixie and said “Until tomorrow Tracy.” She then disappeared.

Alaska sighed and shook her head, then walked to the door and left through it like a civilized person.

Trixie laid back in her bed and looked at her ceiling thinking about what Ms. Monsoon had thought.

She was right, these girls are going to eat me alive.

[creativitytoexplore]

[HR] Every day a sun sets over Los Angeles (2/2) https://ift.tt/3io1eoL

I used what remained of my money to buy a bus ticket from Los Angeles to Illinois.

The ride was long but passed like rain.

I sat in the back by the window, and although the bus was full of passengers nobody sat beside me.

I had my headphones on.

The doorbell rang—

My mom answered and saw me standing in the same clothes I’d been wearing for over a week, raccoon-faced and wearing my headphones. “Oh…”

She and my dad greeted me, then started piling food onto a plate.

My mom said I had lost weight, but I knew she meant it as you look unhealthy, and when I went to the bathroom and saw my reflection in the mirror—something you avoid when you’re on the street—I couldn’t blame her. I looked scary: gaunt, concave, shaded. I scrubbed my skin but couldn’t get the shadows off. What the hell was this? I told my parents I needed some rest, and they happily saw me to bed. That night, I wallowed in a similar kind of fear as the night of Sooty’s suicide: I feared the not-coming of the dawn, except that tonight I was afraid for myself: I was afraid what wouldn’t come was the dawn in me. I prayed to God as best as I could, like talking to a friend, and asked Him to help me get through whatever this was. This existential crisis. Then I thanked Him, because no matter what I was experiencing at least he had given me the music. Then I decided I didn’t believe in God, curled up on my childhood bed with the headphones on and went to sleep.

A few days later, my parents confronted me in the living room and in somber voices told me they wanted me to get the help I needed and that whatever I had done in Los Angeles didn’t matter and the only thing that mattered was my well being and so they needed me to take a drug test so my healing could begin.

I agreed, and when the drug test came back negative, I overheard my dad thundering at our family doctor: What do you mean he’s not on drugs? He’s on drugs! Do you test for all drugs? Maybe it’s a new west coast drug…

I wasn’t on drugs.

At some point the doctor shined a light into my eyes.

I didn’t react.

“Huh,” he said. “Isn’t that odd.”

Although my parents treated me with kindness and tried to hide their worry from me, I saw the pain I was causing them. They wanted to help me but didn’t know how. One day, I returned from a walk to find a gift waiting for me. “What’s this?” I asked.

“Open it,” my dad said.

I did. Inside was a pair of new noise-cancelling headphones. “Wireless, just like your old ones,” he said.

“And where are my old ones?” I asked.

I fished them out of the trash and cleaned them with a moist towel as my parents watched. “Maybe you should try the new ones,” my dad suggested. “You might like them more.” Then he asked to try mine. I let him put them on. He looked over at my mom, passed the headphones to her; she put them on, smiled—

That’s how I met Dr. Baker. He was a well regarded clinical psychologist.

“Tell me,” he said during our first session, “about your trip.”

I narrated it faithfully.

“And this man, whom you call Sooty, although I understand this is not his real name—”

“Like I said, I didn’t know his real name.”

“Indeed, so this Sooty—did anyone else on the bus see him?”

I rubbed my fingers into my face. “Breathe,” Dr. Baker instructed. “I know this is not easy. It is not easy for one to plainly admit, even to one’s self, that what one sees is not there.”

“Like I said…”

The sessions were not productive.

What was productive—what kept me sane during this period—were the headphones: the music. It was loud enough now that I no longer had to strain to hear it. I could just slip on the headphones and melt away. Which is what I did, night after day after night after day after night…

Until the day I took the headphones off to eat breakfast and noticed a ringing in my ears.

An echo.

When I put the headphones back on, the ringing stopped.

As soon as I took them off:

ringing

It bothered me during breakfast and throughout the rest of the day. Consequently, I wore my headphones more often and in public.

People had generally treated me at a distance here in Illinois, even when I was a kid, but now they blatantly avoided me. I knew I didn’t stink, because I showered regularly, sometimes even trying one more futile time to scrub the smokiness off my skin, and kept a strict routine of hygiene. They avoided me because of the headphones. “Don’t point,” mothers would whisper to their children (“Why is that man wearing cardboards on his head?”)—or so I imagined—“that man is not well.”

As soon as I took them off:

ringing

An echo: of the past:

I had come down the stairs to eat dinner with my parents, headphones on my head, the divine music soothing my mind, when my mom said something to me and I didn’t hear. Calmly she repeated the question. I still didn’t hear. “Take off those headphones,” my dad said, only barely audible above the gloriousness, “your mother’s trying to talk to you.”

“For fuck’s sake,” the driver screamed. “Take off those goddamn headphones!”

—impact!

I pulled them off. “Sorry—”

The sudden ringing was immense: painful.

I grabbed my head with my hands.

“Son?”

The pain subsided.

I exhaled. “I’m OK now,” I said.

Except I wasn’t. The ringing was audibly persistent. Imagine the sensation of a bee sting. Now imagine that sensation as a balloon, and that balloon inflating in perpetuity in your mind. A delimited container containing unlimited suffering. I am a bus with blown out windows. I am in need of help.

I made an appointment with our family doctor.

“What you’re describing is tinnitus. Do you listen to loud music?”

He ran tests. “It’s not tinnitus.”

“What is it?”

“It could be stress. It could be something else. We’ll need to run more tests.”

I was subjected to evaluation (“Do you consent?”) and imaging (“Do you consent?”) and diagnostics (“Do you consent?”) and it tooks months and both the music in the headphones and the ringing without increased in volume and intensity, and at the end of it all, the doctor asked me to sit and told me: “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

I blinked my shadow-encircled eyes.

“You’re healthy,” he said.

“You’re young. Live your life,” he said.

“Pain only really starts when you get old,” he said.

I told my parents the good news and it set their hearts at ease. Contrary to the reality before them—what I looked like, what I acted like, how I was—the doctors had convinced them. “That’s such a relief,” my mom said. No matter what I said ever worried them again. “A clean bill of health,” my dad said. “How I miss the days when I had one of those!”

I was God's lonely man,

sitting on the sidewalk with my back against the door of a foreclosed store that once sold antiques, listening, watching people scurry, thinking it wasn't death I was afraid of; Sooty didn't just die. I was terrified of what had happened to him before, of which I had caught glimpses, first in him and later around me, and finally within. I had a darkness pooling. Light avoided me. Then one dull afternoon, Father Mackenzie sat down beside me and existence began to clarify.

He said words I didn't hear.

"What?" I said.

He was wearing his priest's uniform. "I said: don't you look like someone with the weight of the cosmos on him."

"I'm not looking for religion,” I said. But his words had struck me.

I slid my headphones partially off my ears. The music quieted; the ringing began. "Religion cannot be found."

He extended his hand. "Father Mackenzie."

I shook it and introduced myself.

"The most merciful thing in the world is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents," he said.

"Quoting the Bible already."

He smiled. "Something like that. Consider it an icebreaker. Mind if I sit with you?"

"Not my sidewalk."

He sat like that, neither of us saying anything, for a long time. Then he got up, dusted off his pants and said, "It was a pleasure to meet you. If you ever need to talk to someone again, I'm over at the Merciful Redeemer."

I thought yeah, haha, good talk.

"On the contrary," he responded. "I believe we each said quite a lot." Before I could comment, he added: "No, I don't read minds, but I do read faces. Like I said, Merciful Redeemer. You're welcome any time."

During dinner that night—a blissful family scene: two happy parents and their healthy adult son, the lights flickered; for a fraction of a second went out: replaced, whether really or in my mind: unknown: their flayed bodies slumped onto the dinner table, exposed muscles twitching, tongues slithering out serpentine—

Blissful domesticity: "Hey?"

“Sorry,” I said. “I must have been daydreaming."

But these flashes of nightmare recurred, impinging briefly but vividly on the real world: a highway metamorphosing into a river of fire, car-fishes blazing; a skyscraper in downtown Chicago becoming suddenly covered in translucent skin, its metal structure bone, the bones cracking, pulverising, people falling; the sun joined in the sky by a twin, each eclipsed by a moon, and the moons reduced into their suns like two diminishing pupils.

The ringing in my ears changed also. What had been one sound was becoming the overlapping of many, human and inhuman pain, screaming and moaning and suffering. Like the buzzing of a fly on the other side of a window. Like children crying down the street. Some of them were desperate, like a cat clawing desperately at the neighbour's screen door. Others were resigned, like the wailing of a grieving mother who knows her hurt shall never pass. The dead stay dead. Only the living can desire change.

Only the headphones gave me respite.

"Did you hear?" my mom asked. "There are forest fires out west. Los Angeles is burning."

I could hear its screams.

I wanted it to end.

That is how I found myself on the sidewalk outside the Church of the Merciful Redeemer, staring at its twin steeples, darkly rendered against the sky, and wondering how I could have passed this building innumerable times without realizing how other it was, both in its function and its architecture. Out of place and time. I entered.

Loitering at the back, I watched a few scattered people kneel and pray.

An old priest walked by.

I asked him about Father Mackenzie.

He bade me wait.

When Father Mackenzie emerged, he was wearing a jacket and smelled faintly of eggs. "I'm glad you decided to come," he said without a trace of surprise. "Let's take a walk."

As we walked the streets, I told him everything. I didn't intend to. I didn't expect he would let me. But he listened without interrupting—without any indication of disbelief—until I was finished. Then he said, "I believe you are a sponge awaiting sacrifice."

I stopped walking.

"What?"

"You are a container for pain."

He was mocking me. "I knew you wouldn't believe me. Fuck off back to your church and leave me alone," I said.

"On the contrary, I'm the only one who believes you."

I stared at him.

"What you're hearing is pain. The pain of the world. That pain will only become louder," he said. "Your headphones are the divine."

"So that's Christianity?"

He laughed. "It's much older than Christianity."

"So what is it I'm supposed to do? I feel like it's driving me insane."

We had started walking again. "No doubt, although insanity is certainly the wrong word. If anything, you are becoming hypersane. You are sensing so much more of the world than the rest of us. As to what you're supposed to do—it's rather conceptually simple: endure and die."

"Die?"

"In itself, that's nothing extraordinary. Certainly nothing to fear. Endure and die is what we all do. What makes you extraordinary is your ability to experience not only your own suffering, but the suffering of others."

My mind felt as if it were overheating: bulging: a freshly born creature pushing at the final elastic membrane separating it from the world. "It won't stop at hearing pain," Father Mackenzie continued. "You will feel their pain."

I remembered Sooty. His pain.

"How is that even possible?"

"According to most, it's not. But it depends on how you approach consciousness. Is consciousness something your mind creates using the hardware of your brain, or is there a cosmic consciousness of which our minds are the receivers, with most of us tuned specifically and forever to a frequency called I?"

"I—"

I imagined the headlights of a truck. I imagined—

"But that's theory. You have something greater. You have experience."

We had arrived at a coffee shop tucked between an Italian cobbler and a store selling collectibles, and Father Mackenzie motioned for us to go inside. "Best espresso on this side of the Atlantic. Trust me."

He ordered one for each of us.

The place was empty.

"You said something about sacrifice earlier," I said.

He smiled. "Are you imagining a pentagram, knives and a stone altar?"

"Something like that."

"You're not entirely wrong. But before we talk about that, I want to point out the obvious. We all die. What makes a sacrifice special is not the death but the intention and the consequence."

I drank my espresso. Father Mackenzie ordered another. "What's the consequence of my death?"

"Salvation—temporarily for us, but permanently for you."

I didn't understand.

"You relieve the world of pain. You take some of its agony and contain it in yourself.”

Father Mackenzie’s second espresso came. Steam rose from its black surface. He lifted the cup with his right hand, but instead of taking a sip, he inverted it and poured the scalding coffee onto the top of his left hand. For a fraction of a second he painfully sucked in air—then I felt the burning: not on my hand but in my head: as if somehow a strip of my brain had been cut away, rolled into a tautness of wire and snipped with a pair of pliers.

“I apologize for the crude trick,” Father MacKenzie said, “but I wanted you to experience how special you are.”

The top of his left hand was red.

“It doesn’t hurt?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “You took the pain away from me. What I would have felt for hours or days, you condensed and felt in an instant. There are rules to this, a physics of suffering. Some of the rules cannot be subverted. Once summoned, pain must be felt. But it must be felt only once, and there is no requirement for it to be felt by the person who summoned it. The cosmos is concerned with the bottom line. It does not micromanage.”

“And I’m special because I flicked a light switch in Texas?”

“It’s not the act which makes you special. The act is merely symbolic. You’re special because you found yourself in the position to flick a light switch in Texas. You’re special because you found yourself on a bus with Sooty; because you worried about him; because you picked up the headphones. You’re special because you’re you.”

“Can I shut it off?”

Father MacKenzie smiled. “The knife cuts both ways, I’m afraid. Just like you cannot choose to become special, you cannot choose to become ordinary. You are what you are—what you choose is how you deal with that. You can always shut yourself off. You can smash the radio receiver. Doing that won’t affect the broadcast, however.”

I pictured myself as some kind of sentient receiver: a human-shaped coil of wires and knobs. “Hardware is hardware,” I said.

“That’s right, but I would encourage you to look at it as an opportunity. Always remember the laws of suffering. Everything you feel: someone else doesn’t. The more you suffer, the less they do. You can save lives—” Father MacKenzie grabbed me suddenly by the hands. “—and remember one more thing. If I found you, others can too. There are those even within my own organization who have less encouraging methods for salvation.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and my perception flickered, and I saw flames erupting all round us as the skin peeled away from his face, revealing not muscle and bone but overlapping petals and thorny vines escaping from his orifices: winding their way over everything around us, including my legs and arms, until I could not move. And they were gone and Father MacKenzie’s face was one of empathy and concern. “Imagine existing like that,” he was saying, “kept barely alive in a windowless room deep below the city, forced to endure the pain of others. Never feeling anything but pain.”

I ripped myself free of him—

“That’s not what I want for you. I want you to choose.”

“What if I can’t take it?”

“Suffer willingly as much as you can, then bring yourself to an altar and sacrifice yourself to the cosmos.”

Tears had begun to stream down his face.

“What’s an altar?” I asked.

“Cities are altars.”

I felt the tautening of my brain. “They are axes mundi,” he said through clenched teeth. “Links between the realms.” He shut his eyes.

“Go now,” he commanded.

I could see him struggling against the coming of the pain: pain he didn’t want me to suffer. “Father, can we—”

“I’ve betrayed them,” he said as my brain buzzed. “I’m finished. Go!”

I ran out the door and into the street, where the appearance of normal life appalled me. I felt as if everything I saw was superficial, a forest of fake plastic trees through which I stumbled toward home. I felt as if I had gained the appreciation of a new dimension, but with it came the flattening of everything else. When I turned onto my parents’ street, I saw a black car parked in their driveway and two men standing at the door talking to my mom—and knew I could never go home again.

My headphones were my home now.

On the sidewalk, I passed through cones of streetlight cocooned in darkness.

I listened to the music of the heavens and accepted my condition.

I had become unseen. That was almost seven years ago. As I type this now on a computer in a public library in Santa Monica, I no longer remember what it was like to live without pain. I spend my days on the streets, coping with the intensity of suffering around me. I wander. I loiter in front of convenience stores, hoping to wash up in their restrooms. Sometimes I beg for money. The music in my headphones is so loud I can’t imagine it becoming louder. But so is the suffering, which means the music no longer offers me a reprieve. I don’t think I sleep anymore. The ringing in my ears is a ceaseless torrent of individual agonies, and I know the time of my sacrifice is near. I have endured so much. Whenever I pass someone on the street—too wretched to be acknowledged—I hope I have taken some of their pain: used what makes me special to the benefit of the world: saved a life.

One unexpected discovery I’ve made is that my ability to feel pain is not restricted to humans. I also feel the pain of animals.

Animals are the only ones who are thankful.

They ease my pain.

Every year now it seems that Los Angeles burns, and the fires encroach ever closer on the city. They are like the visions I have, which I am convinced are seepages of hell, except they are prolonged and visible to everyone. In that sense, they are real.

Fake plastic trees—it must be said—burn just like the real.

Sometimes, when the suffering abates, I remember Sooty’s bag of photocopied addresses and imagine what became of them. Sometimes, when I feel that everything I’ve suffered is punishment for the act of leaving that plastic bag, I take comfort in Father MacKenzie’s words that whoever found that bag was fated for it.

I hope he’s right.

Because I no longer sleep, I no longer dream, but that means my entire existence has become a kind of waking dream, and it is in that dream I see an ending for myself. One day when the flames loom over Los Angeles, as the black, melting highways fill with people fleeing the city, I will walk in the opposite direction: into the inferno. I will take into myself the pain of all the burning animals, the strays and the wild, the terrified and the defeated, and I will give them painless death. In my dream I see them all coming to me, gathering around me. I see this as my final act of salvation. In their embrace, I too shall burn and die—

And, in death, I shall be released.

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9 Top Trending Corporate Gift Ideas for Diwali 2019

Diwali, the festival of lights commemorated on a massive scale throughout the world, offers the perfect occasion for exchanging customized corporate gifts. During Diwali, everybody is in a celebratory mood, and everyone presents gifts to appreciate and bolster their relationships with others by presenting innovative Diwali gifts. Though one is spoilt for choice when it comes to selecting personal gifts, individuals and commercial establishments have it easy choosing branded corporate gifts.

As an entrepreneur or employer, you can choose from a select range of personalized corporate gifts or custom corporate gifts. You can make the most of unique Diwali gift ideas for making a lasting impression on your clients and employees. At the same time, the trending corporate Diwali gifts can go a long way in bolstering business relations and promoting your brand.

Following are 9 top trending corporate Diwali gifts and best corporate gift ideas that will help you decide what to gift your clients and employees on Diwali.

  1.     Customized Corporate Diwali Household Gifts

 Impress your clientele, members of staff, suppliers, and everybody else connected with your business by presenting them customized corporate Diwali gifts for households. You can pick and choose from a wide range of trendy personalized corporate Diwali gifts.

Some of the most popular and trending corporate Diwali gifts for household include:-

§  coffee mugs

§  casseroles set

§  cool kegs and jugs

§  Trolley bags

§  Keyrings/ key chains

§   Tea set

§  Cookie Platter

§ Pop-up pitcher

§  Pooja Thali

§  Ice bucket

§  Desktop stationery

You can add a personal touch to the above Diwali household gifts by printing the name of your company on them. Embossing company logo or tagline could help promote and reinforce brand image and identity. If you so wish, you can print customers’ and employees’ names on the coffee mugs, key rings, and pooja thalis.

Imprinting names or photographs of your personnel or customers shows that you care about them and wish to strengthen the relationships. You can pick from different shapes and sizes, colors, and materials for further customizing the innovative Diwali gifts.

2.     Personalized Photo Frames-Personalized Name Printed and Logo Printed Photo Frames

 Are you looking to establish a lasting rapport with your company’s stakeholders during this Diwali? One good way of effectively impressing your clientele and staff members is to present them trending corporate Diwali gifts. Chic and premium personalized corporate gifts comprise power bank, selfie speaker, desk lamp, wireless charger, home appliances, smartwatches, and jewelry.

However, such items command a high price and gifting the same in bulk could burn a hole in your pocket. So, if you’re on a budget, you can explore a variety of unique Diwali gift ideas that are pocket-friendly and affordable. For instance, you can go for personalized photo frames with the name and logo of your company printed on them.

You can select from the following types of customized photo frames:-

§  Basic photo frame

§  Rotating dual photo frame with clock

§  Magnetic photo frame with a clock displaying temperature

§  Personalized photo frame with clock

§  Family photo frame

§  Double heart arrow photo frame

3.     Personalized Corporate Gifts-Chocolates

 There used to be a time when employers, businesspersons, and tycoons used to present dry fruits, sweetmeats, and confectionaries packaged in personalized corporate gift hampers. Apart from gifting sweets and dry fruits in eye-catching cartons, businessmen and magnates It also presented decorative lamps and diyas as souvenirs. However, since the past two decades, chocolates of premium brands have replaced dry fruits and sweetmeats as trending corporate Diwali gifts.

So, impart a sweet touch to your business relationships and take the associations to the next level by saying it with chocolates. Browse through the following personalized chocolate gift packs and cartons increasingly becoming popular as best corporate gift ideas:-

§  Diwali Cadbury Bournville Chocolate Gift Pack

§  Happy Diwali Cadbury Chocolates Personalized Gift Box

§  Cadbury Celebrations Assorted Chocolate Gift Pack

§  Personalized Cadbury Assorted Chocolate

§  Cadbury Dairy Milk Silk Chocolate

§  Hershey Kisses with Chocolate Shots & Truffles in a Goodie Bag

§  Chocolate Gift Pack for Diwali (an assortment of chocolates including Hershey’s chocolate bars, KitKat bar, Ferrero Rocher, Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut bar, and rose candles)

§  Toblerone combo chocolate gift- 6 x 100g packs with free silver plated coin 

4.     Trending Corporate Diwali Gifts Set

 Bestowing trending corporate Diwali gift sets are the perfect way of expressing gratitude to your staff and clientele who contribute hugely towards endorsing your brand. More often than not, a meticulously chosen innovative Diwali gift set could be a deal-breaker and work wonders when words don’t suffice. Seeing your employees smile when you offer them a special Diwali the gift pack also makes you intensely happy.

Gift your staff members and customers their favorite custom Diwali gift they’ve been yearning for and they’ll remember you for years to come. Just imagine how excited they are and how confident they feel when they attend office on the eve of Diwali. Your clients and employees are agog with excitement, fervently hoping to receive customized corporate Diwali gifts from you.

Take your pick from the following best corporate gift ideas and live up to your stakeholders’ expectations by showering these gifts on them:-

§  Shubh Labh wall hanging with cashew, almonds, and hazelnuts

§  Festive sweetness (embellished small candle tray with Ganesha ornamentation with Lindt, Cadbury, Hershey, and Toblerone chocolates)

§    3 piece gift set cardholder pen and notebook

§  Business tech gift combo (smartphone charger, 2 side data cable for Android and iOS, and metallic pen with logo)

§  Brown wallet combo unisex gift set   

5.     Branded Corporate Gifts-Noise Cancellation Headsets and Apparels

 Stay connected in a unique and special way to those who work round the year to improve your bottom line by bestowing branded corporate gifts. Get in the festive mood this Diwali and celebrate the festival of lights with your company’s well-wishers by gifting branded items. You can select from a sweeping range of wares from renowned companies like Adidas, Parker, SHEAFFER, Urban Gear, and Toreto.

Check out the following items of the above firms:-

§  Apparels

§  Pullovers

§  Sneakers

§  cookie platter

§  Tea set

§  Travel Bag

§  Noise isolation Bluetooth headphones

§  Laptop backpack

§  Wireless speaker

§  USB charger

Most of these companies run promotional offers and offer hefty discounts when you order items in bulk. So, you do not need to worry about breaking the bank when you place online orders for branded corporate items.

 6.     Best Corporate Divinity Gift Ideas-Polyresin Divinity Statue

Inculcate and instill feelings of divinity by gifting statues and statuettes of Ganesha and Lakshmi-deities that is worshipped during Diwali. Make the most of the best corporate gift ideas by opting for one or more of the following divinity gifts:-

§  Customized Ganpati idol

§  Dancing Ganesha idol

§  Golden Radha Krishna statue

§  Personalized Ganesha statue (metallic finish)

§  Polyresin Ganesha idol playing Tabla

§  Polyresin Ganesha Idol playing Veena

§  Handcrafted Silver Plated Laxmi and Ganesha Temple Set

§  German silver & gold peacock bowl set    

7.     Custom Corporate Gifts- Diwali Gold Coins/Silver Coins

 Diwali is celebrated with pomp and splendor not only in India but in other countries of the world as well. During Diwali which is India’s most popular festival, people irrespective of age, caste, creed, and religion come together to celebrate. In this festive occasion, individuals express their appreciation for near and dear ones and business establishments convey thankfulness to employees and patrons through gifts.

One of the best ways of acknowledging your staff’s and clients’ contributing is by giving away a custom corporate gifts. Gifting gold and silver coins during Diwali is a time-honored tradition that continues to be very popular and trendy. Choose Diwali gold and silver coins from the listing below:-

§   10gm Laxmi Ganesha silver coin

§   20gm Laxmi Ganesha silver coin

§   50gm Laxmi Ganesha silver coin

§   4gm Ganesha gold coin

§  8gm Ganesha gold coin 

 8.     Trending Corporate  Diwali Gifts- Gold Plated Gifts

 Gold as one of the most valuable metals have a universal appeal that is timeless and enduring. Gold has always been and will continue to be treasured and cherished by humans, irrespective of caste, creed, ethnicity or religion.  Make you patrons and staff members cheerful by offering them gold plated photo frames and golden business card holders-trendy corporate Diwali gifts.

Of course, you can pick and choose from the following gold plated items as well:-

§  Golden Parker Ball Pen

§  Gold plated van

§  Golden four-seater vintage car

§  Titanium plus gold plated Swiss military ball pen

§  Golden photo frame with pen stand

 9.     Corporate Electronic Gifts-Personalized Tech Gifts

Your customers are the essence and lifeblood of your business. It is because of your clientele that you’ve been able to achieve unprecedented success in your commercial segment. Acknowledge their contribution in a distinctive and exclusive manner by offering them corporate electronic gifts and personalized tech gifts. You can select from an extensive range of corporate electronic gifts including but not limited to power banks with multiple USB slots, diaries with power banks, Android and iOS compatible type C and lightning charging cables.

In fact, when it comes to selecting personalized tech gifts, your options are near-infinite:-

§  Multifunctional speakers with add-ons like FM radio, Bluetooth, and micro-SD card/USB slot

§  Wireless speaker with power bank and selfie stick

§  Sports stereo earphones with neckband

§  Desk lamp with USB port, built-in Bluetooth and speaker

§  5000mAh power bank notebook with 16GB pen drive

§  Blaupunkt portable Bluetooth speaker