#ophelia1

[sen-no-kotowari]

Dark Selena Interlude: An Elegy for a Flower Ch 3

Chapter 3: Festive Day of Innocence

The young girl and her friends innocently raised their hands over their head and sang like the gust of wind that blew. Their song soared high up to the heavens.

“Dear Selena, I wrote this letter immediately after I’m done visiting Auntie. By that, I mean your mom. She’s been doing pretty well and has been raving so much about how your opera was absolutely wonderful. She’s so proud of you as her daughter. If I saw how amazing you were on stage, I can’t help but to agree with Auntie. If you were here right now, it’d be nice if you could teach me the ropes on how to write operas and everything related to it. Yep, that’s right. What I need right now is a teacher. I need someone who’s been creating for a long time to guide me. Though frankly speaking, I’ve hit writer’s block. I really didn’t know that I'd have the urge of wanting to break out of this creative slump while working on the stage play’s story. It was a first for me. What saved me from that groove wasn’t much of a big deal, really. When I talked about it to Auntie, she gladly taught me a way how to deal with creative slumps. I admire how passionate Auntie, who is a well-renowned musician, is when it comes to creating art. So you were raised in such a home and received specialized learning, huh… When you decided to participate in the Structurization surgery, how in the world did you manage to convince your parents? Did you persuade your parents, just like how you move other people through your work? I wish you could tell me the answer to these questions, Selena. —With love, Ayla”

(――)

The numbing cold, constant hunger, and the spontaneous feeling of powerlessness and agony overwhelmed Flora, just like him. Her throat was parched and her voice was hoarse. She had been extremely tired as a result of practicing her lines for an extended period. She also wanted someone to take care of her and praise her like any other child.

Flora: In times like these… What would Mommy do?

Even though the young girl wanted to be reassured by her fond memories, she immediately shook her head.

Flora: Hrm… I can’t remember. It’s because Mommy’s a lot more scared than I am in times like this.

Both hunger and the cold are everyday occurrences for scavengers. For the scavengers who found a place where they could belong, what they feared above all was returning to those days when they lived side by side with the loss of life from the past. That’s why whenever the conservation areas were invaded by the Infected or when resource replenishment was suspended due to natural calamities, it looked like the locals were taken back to their harrowing nightmare. As far as Flora could remember, her frightened mother always held her close when they were plagued by difficulties. She has been singing a lullaby with desperation while her lips trembled. Her usual composure wasn’t there at all. Yet the young Flora doesn’t deeply understand everything that was happening. She only understood that her mother was more fragile than her and needed to be comforted in contrast to her.

Flora: Then… What can I do for her?

She pondered for a while and showed a smile on her face.

Flora: Oh, I know. I can comfort Mommy by telling her everything’s going to be okay, that what’s about to happen isn’t scary, and that all things beautiful will undergo change as time passes.

Flora pointed out the puddle of water in between the demolished audience’s seats.

Flora: Oh look, look, there’s a stream over there. It might be where the water on Millais’ painting of Ophelia1 flowed from.

Yes, that’s right. She often engrossed herself in such imaginations. It was one of the pastimes her father taught her. And then, the young girl pointed at the pillar that was broken in half behind her. It was weathered by the elements and tells the story of how long time had passed in this place.

Flora: Look over there, look! David got a rock from there and used it to bravely face Goliath2.

All of the events witnessed and all its colors will shine beautifully when that time comes. Even fear would subside if one exists inside a world of imagination. Her mother listened to her stories from her imagination, hugging her close as she caressed her daughter with both her hands trembling. And when her mother’s mood calmed down, the gentle smile on her face returned. Yes, that has to be it. This is what the young girl must do. She did the same thing the night before her father passed away. With this, even someone as young as her may be able to console her mother. Flora pointed to the sky.

Flora: Over there, that light is something that the sun emits. It has been shining down on this land for millions of years now. It still shines strongly as it does today.

That is its gaze. A warm gaze filled with affection. This place was able to prosper like today because it has always watched over us.

It’s— ack… (Cough, cough!)

A cold draft passed through and the dust that blew up from the curtains came off. The dust became like a golden ripple inside the sun’s rays drifting through the tip of her nose. She choked on the dust and coughed severely. The arm she used to point to the heavens became weak. For a while, Flora was deprived of oxygen and knelt on the ground. She could no longer stand up. She neither has food to fill her stomach nor the warm embrace of her parents. The young girl’s small body was aching.

Flora: I see… Perhaps I, too, should also tell a story from the imagination. If it can make Mommy smile… then surely… I would also…

As she leaned against the wall, she somewhat managed to lift her body and whispered in a small voice.

Flora: Let’s move to the next story.

The cold breeze flipped the page of the script that fell on her feet at the same time her thin skirt swayed with the wind, the young girl trembled from the cold. However, her voice was filled with powerful emotions as her acting relied more on her performance on stage.

Flora: This is a story of a certain elderly person.

His name is Pard, the hero of this conservation area and our hero.

If it’s him, the people have a place to evacuate, they could go to that place that was floating in the sky. From there, he brought home many interesting stories back with him!

Among the stories he brought back, the most interesting one as well as the one that had an impact on me was a certain opera.

The title of that opera was “Arcadia: The Great Escape,” it was written by an amazing young playwright.

I was able to watch the opera that included Sir Pard’s commentary projected on a large monitor together with my friends and our parents.

It was an astoundingly remarkable and emotional story. All of us felt that story touched our hearts.

That day, Daddy… He left in a hurry so he wasn’t able to come and join us at the ball.

Uhm… You don’t know what a ball is? It’s, uhm… It was simply a gathering that I held with a good friend when they were still cheerful because I wanted to express my emotions burning with excitement.

Because other than twirling my hands and feet as much as I want, I don’t know how I can express all the excitement in me.

I pulled Litt’s and all my other friends’ hands, and we celebrated the hero’s ending in that story by raising our hands together.

Flora stood up by the wall and raised her hand, just as if she had imagined dancing with everyone. She took the lead and began dancing. She imagined what her demeanor looked like as she led her friends who didn’t know how to dance and they, in turn, were led to become captivating dancers. If they danced together in real life, they probably would often fumble on their partner’s feet with how wobbly their tense footwork would be. But right now, she doesn’t mind those things. She simply wants to enjoy their dance. Suddenly, she reached her hand out to where the sunlight shined. It’s as though she was inviting the sun for a dance.

Flora: …That’s right. At that time, Mister Pard was also invited to a dance.

But he turned down the invitation. His mechanized body was too large and dancing with him would cause inconvenience to others.

Flora closed her eyes and let out a brief sigh.

Flora: I wanted to jump while dancing, but I wasn’t able to jump so high at all.

Fortunately, Mister Pard didn’t say no to my challenge. He simply looked at me and said that I reminded him of his child.

His son loves stories, just like me. Whenever his son listens to the stories he tells him, it seems like he gets so excited that he would run all over their house.

He said he still remembers what happened the day before the Great Escape clear as day. His son called out to him and said, “Come home soon and tell me what happens next in that story, Dad.”

But that day, he… he was busy transporting paintings and sculptures for someone that he wasn’t able to tell his son the continuation of that story until the end.

It was… truly unfortunate. Since it was rare for his father to stop telling the story mid-way, perhaps that child felt like time passed for so long while he waited for his father to come home.

If you think of his age, that child is already a middle-aged person. I want to exchange views about that story with him someday. It’d be nice if he knew how comforting it is that he’s not alone whenever he feels frustrated in knowing what happens next in the story.

But whenever I talk about it, Uncle Pard looked like he was about to cry. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me that he wasn’t able to meet with his son for a long time now.

That’s why I said these words to comfort his heart.

Uhm… What did I say back then?

Flora faced the audience seat and asked silently. It was as if she was asking a question to the sculptures and paintings that had constantly stood still in this place for years. And after a while, the young girl raised her head.

Flora: Ah, that’s right.

I told him that if he met his son, then tell him more interesting stories than the one he promised him.

The war… is something truly terrifying, but that fear couldn’t stop our hearts that yearned for beauty.

Mm… It’s just like Daddy told me.

The young girl spread her arms out as she faced the sky and embraced it, just like when she hugged her parents. It was as though right now, there was an elderly soldier who was telling her stories by her side and was about to tell her the next story they have for the young girl.

Flora: Ah… I knew it would be effective.

As she embraced herself, Flora noticed that she was smiling. She was laughing at the scene she had imagined. She was smiling like how her mother used to smile before. She once again believed in herself through the smile on her face. The words and the imagination that welled from her sincerity would surely move her mother’s heart, what her true thoughts are… as well as being able to convey what her father’s real intentions were. Once again, the young girl slowly picked up the script.

The depiction of Ophelia singing before she drowned on the lake was painted by Sir John Everett Millais during the 1850s.

This was a Bible Story referenced from 1 Samuel 14.

[grayfischer]

Status: Closed for @ophxcar​ Location: The Pravda Nightclub  TW: drugs, drug mention, addiction

    The nightlife scene in Wilmington had never been Grayson’s community, especially not after taking off for 6 months and burning nearly every bridge he had. If he did venture out of his beach home of an evening, it almost never resulted in him sitting at the bar, unless he was visiting Scarlett while she worked - and yet, that particular evening, he’d felt almost claustrophobic sitting inside and had agreed to go out, meet a friend....

    ....except, he was there alone now, and not a word from his buddy. Grayson wasn’t terribly disappointed, and decided to remain for an hour or two, try out a couple of craft beers he’d not yet gotten the chance to have, when he noticed a familiar face. Long-lost high-school buddies Ophelia - and looking a lot better than a rumor he’d heard about her recent increase in drug purchases suggested. Grayson crossed to her side of the bar, slipping onto a stool just 1 down from where she sat. “Well, well, fancy seeing you here,” Gray greeted her with a small smile, though he couldn’t deny the hint of worry that always clouded his eyes lately when he saw her. “You doin’ good?”

[lulelaw]

@opxliaelv

Tonight was not his best night, and his reactions were fickle at best when it came to the surprises of the evening. Winter had detached herself from his side to go tend to something or perhaps refill her drink. He hadn’t played fifty questions with her when she left. Instead his mind still tried to process everything that had hit him at once.  With his eyes locked onto the crowd he made a silent game of painting targets on the back of people’s heads. After the gala at least some weren’t off the plate to snipe.

Then came his new company, which caused him to turn his head. He hadn’t felt like it was Winter, but he had to be sure. Once he met the eyes of Ophelia he paused and let out a longing sigh. Of course she was here. This wasn’t a turn of events to shock him, but he still wasn’t really prepared for it.

“Ophelia.” He addressed her simply, “What do you want?” Lukas was never one to dance around the subject.