#vixie bee

[vixiebee]

Toshinoriiiiiiii~!

Okay, back to work with me. See ya!

[petermorwood]

Naming of Parts by Henry Reed (1942)

To Alan Mitchell Vixi duellis nuper idoneus Et militavi non sine gloria Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday, We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning, We shall have what to do after firing. But today, Today we have naming of parts. Japonica Glistens like coral in all of the neighbouring gardens, And today we have naming of parts. This is the lower sling swivel. And this Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see, When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel, Which in your case you have not got. The branches Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures, Which in our case we have not got. This is the safety-catch, which is always released With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see Any of them using their finger. And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers: They call it easing the Spring. They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt, And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance, Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards, For today we have naming of parts.

I can still remember when, many years ago, this poem turned up in 4th Form English Literature and completely mystified a class of 15-year-old boys because:

Almost none of us had ever seen a military rifle, never mind taken one apart, and the notion that doing so could be even slightly poetic had never crossed our 15-year-old male minds.

Gardens, flowers, bees, poetry and military rifles don't usually turn up this close together in the average 15-year-old male mind.

There's deliberate juxtaposition of contradictory imagery, the contrast of mind-numbing boredom with unfettered imagination, being stuck in a classroom when you want to be somewhere else, and all the other things you're supposed to consider when analysing a poem that may - or may not, you won't know until it's too late - play a role in end-of-term exams.

However hearing it aloud was rather different.

School had a pretty good tape library (radio programmes of plays, speeches etc.) and by an extraordinary fluke this, read in part by poet Henry Reed himself, is the actual recording played to my class.

That was when we realised there are hints and implications in this poem which may indeed turn up in quite a few 15-year-old male minds. They're just not usually discussed in 4th Form English Class.

At least they weren't discussed in mine... :-D

(Like most poems with a distinctive metre, this lends itself to parody. Here's one about cooking...)

[vixivulpixel]

So, from some of the memes I've seen from y'all I've sort of assumed this for sometime now (or atleast for Vixi) but are y'all (or atleast Vixi) fans of Raocow?

Yeah!! Been long-time watchers of him, one of our partners introduced us to him ages ago (Our first video we've seen of his was the one where he was explaining how boos sprite-swapped to be bees makes them "boo bees". He's probably THE youtuber we've watched the longest, cause we still keep up with his stuff to this day.

[civicmuses]

Temp Muse List

Marsha Abadeer (OC)

Sarah Abadeer (OC)

Marceline Abadeer

Ana Vixi (OC)

Bunnie Rabbot

Sally Acorn

Julie the Echidna

Saffron the Bee

Charlie Morningstar

CraftyCorn

Twilight Sparkle

Elise

[breq-core]

"Naming of Parts"

From 'Lessons of the War' by Henry Reed

"Vixi duellis nuper idoneus

Et militavi non sine glori"

Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday,

We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning,

We shall have what to do after firing. But today,

Today we have naming of parts. Japonica

Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,

And today we have naming of parts.

This is the lower sling swivel. And this

Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see

When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,

Which in your case you have not got. The branches

Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,

Which in our case we have not got.

This is the safety-catch, which is always released

With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me

See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easily

If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms

Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see

Any of them using their finger.

And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this

Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it

Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this

Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards

The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:

They call it easing the Spring.

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy

If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,

And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,

Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom

Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,

For today we have naming of parts.

[ilcocoli]

😲

Head: Lelutka Avalon Evox [Mainstore]

Body: Ebody Reborn [Mainstore]

Hair: Magika - Kat [Marketplace]

Cup: Hangry - Basic Bee Tumbler [Kustom9]

Jacket: Complex - BF’s Bomber Jacket - Ebody Reborn [Kustom9]

Top: Gaia - Vixie Crop Top - Ebody Reborn [Kustom9]

Jeans: Gaia - Vixie High Waist Jeans - Ebody Reborn [Kustom9]

Socks: Ardor - Wool Socks - Ebody Reborn [Mainstore]

Sandals: Norwhere - Zeus’s Birkens [Mainstore]

[askcharliefoxtrot]

My only Gravel-related commission this year was from the talented @vixiebee with their fusion gemsona who’s name I’ve forgotten because I’m a terrible person.

Also a few other things. The green-haired figure is out of a claw game machine apparently. And the little gundam model is supposed to go with a much bigger one but I thought it was cute and fun on it’s own.

And some dice and a new dice bag. For all the tabletop games everyone but me is playing.

[witchyvixie]

Wake up B, new sona palette just dropped!! This here is Honey Dipper, my Bee themed palette. Fictional me works at a fast food chain called Honeycombs.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Drawn in MediBang Paint Pro

Character design belongs to me.

Copyright© 2021 Vixie Fox Witch. All rights reserved.

[phasmidcore]

heyyyyy.... thoughts

I will drown you in a pool of your own blood

[commonpigeon]

bestie. im reccing heartbeats by me likes Bees, Helsinki by the national parks and dawson's christian by vixy & Tony (I'm sorry I couldn't choose, you can pick one if you want!)

heartbeats

downloading immediately -- yeah half my library sounds like this its perfect

dawson's christian

ok i really like this -- oh my god the lyrics of this. this is so good

helsinki

downloading immediately -- mentions the arctic circle instantly having to click like

[freedom-fighters-unite-a]

In honor of Pride month, here are the romantic orientations of all muses on this blog. Note: all muses are demiromantic. This just reflects what gender each muse is attracted to.

Sally Acorn: Biromantic

Antoine D’Coolette: Heteromantic

Bunnie D’Coolette: Heteromantic

Rotor the Walrus: Homoromantic

Nicole Ellidy: Panromantic

Dulcy the Dragon: N/A

Elias Acorn: Biromantic

Marsha Vixi: Heteroromantic

Julie the Echidna: Homoromantic

Saffron the Bee: N/A

Bridgette Pup: Homoromantic

[vixiebee]

Show me an imaginary man who is somewhat sick and/or scrungly, and I'll show you a new ⭐hyperfocus.⭐

[queenscorgi]

Vixie got stung by a bee today. at queenscorgi.tumblr.com

[westsidemuses-a]

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 / 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋

name: Annushka Agafya Vixi

alias(es): Ana, Sir Annushka Vixi of the Kingdom of Acorn (official title)

gender: cis female

age: 12

date   of   birth: January 4th

place   of   birth: Mobotropolis

hometown: Mobotropolis

spoken   languages: English, Russian, French, she also knows several more ancient languages

sexual   preference: heterosexual

occupation: knight for the Kingdom of Acorn, part-time waitress, Freedom Fighter

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

eye   color: brown

hair fur   color: black, light gray

height: 3′ 0″

scars: multiple scars all over her body, covered by her fur

burns: none

over   weight: used to be

under   weight: no

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄

color: pink

hair   color: has no preference

eye   color: has no preference

song: enjoys songs by Mina the “Songoose”

movie: likes romantic comdies

tv   show: likes documentaries

drink: Chao Cola

book: likes history books

𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘…

passed   university: no

had   sex:

had   sex   in   public:

gotten   pregnant:

kissed   a   boy: no

kissed   a   girl: yes

gotten   tattoos: no

gotten   piercings: no

had   a   broken   heart: yes

been   in   love: yes

stayed   up   for   more   than   24   hours: yes

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘…

a   virgin:

a   cuddler: yes

a   kisser: yes

scared   easily: not really

jealous   easily: not really

trustworthy: yes

dominant:

submissive:

in   love: yes

single: yes

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌  (tw   for   self   harm/suicide   mention)

have   they   harmed   themselves: no

thought   of   suicide: yes

attempted   suicide: no

wanted   to   kill   someone: yes, but won’t say who

drove   a   car: no

have/had   a   job: yes

have   any   fears: yes, a few

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

sibling(s): Fiona Reynard (half-sister), Julie the Echidna (sister figure), her teammates

parents: Aylosha Vixi (father; deceased), Evelyn Kittregde (mother;MIA), Rosie (adoptive mother figure), Charles (adoptive uncle/father figure) 

children: Saffron the Bee (daughter figure)

pets: Dusk, a brown mutt, Snowball, a white Rocky, and Blue, a blue Flicky

[artificialqueens]

Star Power Over Me - Part Three (Trixya/Vixie) - Pilandok

AN: Heeeeeeeere’s Katya. Oh nice, we have part three up and running right now. No smut this time, but finally some drama, mama (kinda). Ohne thing I forgot to address is the timeline: it’s set about right now, in the current present time, hahahaha, an alternative universe where everything is the same except Trixie and Katya don’t have BFs. Anyway, thank you for reading.

It wasn’t the last night Violet spent at Trixie’s place but they haven’t been booked to the same show since. Mostly because Violet’s gig is for the big boys, as he put it, and Trixie’s was, well, for ages three and up. (“How many six-year-olds must I traumatize before they learn not to take the name literally?”

“Well, six-year-old Jason would have found you hysterical.”

“Yeah but kid-Jason would have already been fucked up.”

“Shut up! My parents were great.”

Trixie didn’t say anything, giving Violet a warm smile. He didn’t realize how Violet interpreted what he said until later, but he enjoyed the extra affection he received that night.)

From the other side of the camera, Trixie’s phone dings. She shoots an apologetic look at the staff before standing up to go to her bag. They wave her off, unbothered, the interview hasn’t begun yet.

“Well I guess some of us,” she hears Katya from across the room, using the voice she does when impersonating white girls, “aren’t ready for the level of professionalism needed for mainstream success.”

“Bitch!” Trixie calls out, rummaging for her phone in her bag. She adopts the same tone, “I’m sorry, it’s just that my dog’s therapist told me to be in touch whenever my miniature schnauzer undergoes guided meditation.” Trixie turns around and sees Katya flailing her arms while laughing noiselessly, entertained by the thought of a tiny dog engaging in therapeutic hypnosis. Then suddenly calming down, Katya lunges forward with her left leg then rests her arm on her knee; she does the same to the other side, stretching. Trixie watches her for a minute, “You do know that we’re just going to be green screen torsos for this interview, right?”

“Always gotta limber up, mama,” Katya replies, slowly descending into a split, “be ready to run.” She reaches for one foot, talking in-between stretches, “disasters abound,” then the other foot, “my horoscope said so.”

Trixie doesn’t hide her baffled amusement for her partner. She turns back to her phone and sees that the message came from Violet. She cranes her neck quickly to take a peek at Katya (who was still busy stretching) before reading the text:  Since you asked so nicely, xoxo. It was followed by a picture of Violet blowing her a kiss with one hand and the other taking the picture through the mirror. She was half in drag, a full face of makeup and only corset on—and the full length of her penis is popping up in the picture. Trixie can’t stop the surprised laugh that escapes her lips.

“Whatcha got there?” Katya asks suddenly, trying to look over Trixie’s shoulder. Trixie puts the phone down too quickly and Katya squints suspiciously at her. Trixie’s heart rate speeds although she wonders if it was anything to hide. Katya then tilts her head back slightly and widens her eyes comically, “I can see you from my house…” she said in her best Coco Montrese voice. Trixie pauses for a second before erupting her screaming laughter, raising her hand like she was going to smack the air around her. Katya looks pleased at the reaction she elicited from her friend. “What is it, though? But I guess if it’s from your new All Stars 3 friends, you don’t have to tell me,” she sighs but is giving Trixie a knowing look. Somebody calls them back to set.

“It’s not that,” Trixie says when they start to walk back to their seats. “Do you know how many unsolicited dick pics I’ve gotten since All I Want For Christmas Is Nudes?”

“Oh mama, those aren’t unsolicited,” Katya begins, “ever since you’ve released that universal gay mating call of a Christmas song, you’ve doomed yourself to pictures of penises for life. For. Life.” Both of them settle on the stools provided for them. “Catch yourself in 2048 with the intercommunication chip implanted in your brain bombarding your corneas with 4D holographic visuals of mechanically augmented cocks.” Trixie opens her mouth as if to say something but closes them again, not really knowing what to she could. Katya continues, “yes, extraterrestrial lifeforms, after decoding your songs, will also participate in the ritual, sending you whatever goopy, tentacle- y, multifunctional version of genitalia they have.”

“Okay,” is the only thing Trixie replies but she’s smiling at Katya who was beaming, proud of the little tirade she went on.

They’re going to start soon, the staff says, and right before the cameras start rolling, Katya leans in to whisper suggestively in Trixie’s ear, “and as for mine, why don’t we just have our own photoshoot in the bathroom later?”

Trixie senses a sudden rush of blood to her cheeks, suddenly self-conscious, then feels even more embarrassed at her own embarrassment. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat and then scolds herself. Why was she acting like a blushing virgin? It’s not like she hasn’t seen it, Katya’s… But that was beside the point. She notices it in herself recently—it isn’t just today—suddenly being conscious of Katya’s touches and innuendos, then feeling a little bit of despair from it afterwards. It’s as if it’s 2015 again, when Trixie and Katya was still a newfound friendship, a duo that only existed for themselves. During those days, Trixie always found herself nothing short of enamored by Katya.

As for the recent influx of consciousness, sentimentality, and melancholy, Trixie blames it on the Christmas season.

“She’s the yin to my yang,” Katya tells the interviewer who hasn’t even asked anything yet, “the wind beneath my wings. She’s my everything. My everything, Kenneth—if she trips in this studio I will be suing this whole building for damages.” The interviewer laughs at this and tries to get a word in but Katya isn’t finished, “and yes, she’s one of the reasons I try to stave off of drugs, and yes one time we almost died in Australia, and yes I helped her make her clothes for All Stars 3,” she says in one breath.

“Oh wow, I guess that’s half of my questions down,” Kenneth says good-naturedly.

“She’s my undonateable kidney!” Katya exclaims, “because in the future I would have already lost my kidney to the plethora of my addictions or to an extra-terrestrial kidnapping. Trixie is the kidney I cannot lose because as you know, human beings need a minimum of one (1) functioning kidney to live a happy life.”

The interviewer looks overwhelmed by all the information unloaded by Katya. He’s seen her previous interviews and knows of her off-tangent rambles and spiraling streams of thoughts but experiencing it first hand was quite something else. Kenneth laughs in amazement and Trixie sees him falling in love with Katya, too—like the rest of the world already has.

“And Trixie, what do you think of Katya?” he asks.

“She’s a’ight,” Trixie shrugs. Katya drops her mouth open and starts flailing her arms at her side.

“You cunt!” Katya screams, smacking Trixie on her thigh, “you putrid, rancid, dirty whore—ahhh!”

Trixie is laughing at their exchange but her mind is racing. It’s the Christmas blues, she thinks, and she hates it. She replays in her head everything that Katya just and feels a wave of love and gratitude for the blonde hit her and she just really loves Katya but then suddenly she’s floating in a sea of desperation and hopelessness because she’s in love with Katya. And really, hasn’t she already settled this before? Now she’s having difficulty concentrating on the interview with Katya beside her, and Trixie finds it ridiculous, they have been on a tour of many a minor news sites to promote their show and she’s in the exact same place as she’s always bee, on the left of the screen.

The worst part is that Katya notices her troubled state and cranks her own energy level up to 150% to make up for what her partner is lacking. She sees that Katya’s been throwing obvious setups for jokes which Trixie can respond with easy punchlines. Trixie’s heart aches.

After the interview, Trixie is in the bathroom de-dragging; Katya usually hangs back for a while, taking a cigarette break and chatting with whoever is there. This time, however, Katya follows her inside a few minutes after.

“Sorry about earlier,” Trixie says as soon as she heard the door open, there was no point in pretending with Katya. The blonde waves her off. “You seem energetic.”

“I’m buzzing,” Katya replies.

“You don’t smell like an ashtray today.”

“Smoker’s breath down, can I have kiss now?”

Trixie rolls her eyes but nonetheless gives Katya a chaste kiss on the lips. Oddly enough, this helps calm Trixie down. Katya situates herself beside Trixie who watches her through the mirror.

“Let’s get something to eat?” Trixie asks hopefully. She sees Katya bite her lip—of course, she’s busy these days, her management is particularly preoccupied during the Christmas season.

“Okay, let’s go!” Katya replies in her chipper voice after thinking.

“Katya—” Trixie starts.

“No no, our friendship doesn’t just exist on screen. This isn’t the MythBusters.”

“What?”

“Yeah, that hurts me, too,” Katya says grimly, a faraway look on her face.

They pack up their things and have early dinner at an Italian restaurant near Trixie’s place. Trixie rejects the waiter’s offer of wine because he tries not to drink when Katya’s around. They talk as they usually do about anything they can think of, spending most of the night laughing in each other’s company. Christmas blues or not, Trixie finds himself happy and relaxed during dinner and this seems to dissipate the tone of worry in Katya’s voice.

Katya has to leave immediately after dinner, having skipped out on an earlier arrangement, and says goodbye to Trixie who insisted on shouldering the bill. Trixie watches him go, already busily texting on his phone. Katya appears to sense eyes on him and turns around to wave Trixie goodbye, smiling brightly, his white teeth dazzling. With Katya out of sight, Trixie slumps against his seat, wondering why these old feelings were resurfacing when it’s been a more than a year since he’s made peace with the whole situation. Why now? It’s as if something is going to happen, as if everything is coming to a head. The image Violet sent him earlier flashes across his mind but he quickly pushes it away. Trixie shakes his head and calls for a waiter. He asks if they have anything stronger than wine.

—

                 Violet doesn’t wonder why those queens were looking at him like that—he’s used to it by now. Some resentful glares thrown his way doesn’t bother him usually, he’s prone to it, and later, after his performance, he’s sure those queens will be looking at him with the begrudging respect he deserves. Today, however, it rubs him the wrong way, and he smiles back sarcastically at the queens. He hears them start whispering. Violet continues his walk to the dressing room wondering why he was in a mood. It started in the morning when he woke up feeling very unpleasant, which continued to build up the rest of the day. Now, he was just about to start feeling awful when he opened the door.

                 “Look at what the rotted, gutted, filthy feral cat dragged in.”

                 Violet looks up at the owner of the voice and drops his things.

                 “Katya!” he shouts, rushing to hug him. “What are you doing here, bitch?”

                 “They needed someone to fill in a spot,” Katya says after pulling away, “Manila called in sick.”

                 “What?” Violet asks incredulously, “How does that make sense? You’re more famous than us.”

                 Katya shrugs, “I guess I really am a filler queen now.”

                 “Bitch! How many times do I have to—” Violet cuts him off seeing Katya’s wide grin and white teeth. He smiles back, glad that the rotten feeling that’s been accumulating in him is easily erased by the presence of his friend. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

                 “I, too, am glad to be here,” Katya replies, “although those queens outside are a little miffed that the club owner kicked them out for the night to make room for us in here.”

                 “Ah,” Violet nods in understanding, feeling sympathetic to the girls’ plight and vexed towards the club owner.

                 “Nothing that can’t be brought to light later on stage,” Katya says innocently.

                 “Would that be a cunt move?” Violet asks with mischief in his voice.

                 “Maybe,” Katya admits, “but I talked to the girls about it. The crowd here loves their local queens and would hate to know they’re being mistreated.”

                 “Can’t wait.” If there’s anything Violet loves doing, it’s calling out assholes who deserve it.

                 The two start working on painting their face, chatting occasionally, updating each other about their lives, but it’s mostly a quiet affair for Violet. He lets Katya take over the conversation who still, somehow, manages to finish first. Katya puts her wig on and starts making poses on her mirror.

                 “Mm, I look scrumptious,” Katya comments. She starts sifting through her bag, “wanna live?”

                 “Sure,” Violet answers, she’s almost done herself.

                 Katya begins rummaging through her bag more aggressively, “fuck I think I left my phone at home. Can I use yours?”

                 “Mhm.” Violet points distractedly at the vague area where her stuff should be. Violet proceeds with the motion of her getting into drag. Putting on the outfit is her favorite part, it makes her feel like a sex goddess, slowly sliding into the lingerie. She almost forgets about Katya, who seems preoccupied figuring out the phone, until she needs help with her corset. She turns to call attention to Katya but she is already looking at her with an incomprehensible look on her face.

                 “Violet, what’s this?” Katya asks her, lifting up the phone. Violet freezes. Katya looks at the screen again “Trixie Mattel snores when he sleeps,” she begins to read, “Trixie Mattel never gets as drunk as she wants to be. She’s slightly ambidextrous. He wakes up in ungodly hours of the night. He listens to Sonic Youth. He…” Katya trails off, looking at Violet desperately. She knows Katya wants an explanation, but that just might be the one thing she doesn’t have.

Violet crosses her arms in front of her defensively, her default reaction to a confrontation.

“Okay,” Katya says and stands up to pace back and forth across the room, “okay, okay, okay, okay.” Katya stops walking, “Are you fucking Trixie?”

The harshness of the word fucking makes Violet wince but she answers plainly, “yes.”

“Okay, mhm,” Katya starts pacing again then sits down on the chair on the far side of the room but then she looks confused at why she sat down and stood up again, “okay, okay, mhm, I see, okay, okay, okay.”

“Katya,” Violet starts but she doesn’t know what she was going to say after that.

“She’s not like us,” Katya says finally, more affectionate than condescending. “She’s… she’s a romantic. And wants to be in love and all that, you know?” Katya pauses and sees that Violet is still standing guarded. Katya softens her voice, “it’s just that, Vi, I don’t want her to get hurt. And, uh–” Katya purses her lips, thinking about how to say things, “she—she goes all in, you know, and while you may not be thinking about this too deeply, she might you know,” she scrunches her eyebrows, “you know?”

Violet has lot of things that she could say.  She could say that she knows they’re best friends or whatever but it isn’t Katya’s business what goes on between her and Trixie. And Trixie is a gown adult with a rational mind capable of making her own decisions, she can take care of herself. And regarding her own feelings about Trixie… well she hasn’t thought about it too deeply, but that wasn’t something for Katya to decide. And it’s you, Katya, you’re the one she’s in love with.  Violet doesn’t say any of those things because she isn’t a talker like them, not like Trixie and Katya. She can’t so articulately explain herself in a loveable way like them. What she does know how to do is to say what she’s thinking, and right now she doesn’t know what to think, her mind is still reeling at the sudden feeling exposure.

“I like,” Violet begins, slow but steady. Katya snaps up to attention. “I like sleeping with Trixie. I mean,” she continues, not really knowing what to say, “it’s great. I don’t know, it’s emotional and whatever, yeah…” Katya doesn’t say anything and Violet adds, almost as an afterthought, “… bitch.”

Katya falls back onto a chair and Violet can hear her labored breathing. Violet moves closer instinctively but she doesn’t know what to do. Katya suddenly grabs Violet’s arm, squeezing tight. She doesn’t pull away because she can feel Katya’s hand shaking. She looks up at Violet, panicked eyes filling with tears.

“Please stop,” Katya says unsteadily. It’s an oddly simple request that is equally insane— and they both know it. Katya keeps talking, “Please not—not Brian please.”

Violet stiffens on the spot, her brain unable to process any command but is strangely aware that this is a very bizarre thing happening right now. She doesn’t even notice the knock on the door calling them until Katya jumps up suddenly.

“I’m coming!” she shouts gaily, betraying no hint of the situation. Katya opens the door and begins chatting with the person on the other side like they’ve been friends for years. She laughs, a laugh that Violet realizes is slightly different from her usual laugh—but not one she hasn’t heard before. “Yeah, we’ll be ready in a sec,” Katya tells the person. She sighs before turning around to meet Violet’s eyes and the door behind her closes with a soft click.

Katya is looking at her like she’s waiting for her next move, but Violet knows that the ball is in neither of their courts. The next move belongs to the one who’s in the center of all this– the one who’s probably flying back from Chicago right now, by both of their calculations. Violet sighs.

“Can you help me with this?” she asks, turning around in her untightened corset. Katya nods slowly, walking over to her, and helps her sister get ready for the show.

[elucubrare]

LESSONS OF THE WAR

To Alan Michell

   Vixi duellis nuper idoneus    Et militavi non sine gloria

I. NAMING OF PARTS

To-day we have naming of parts. Yesterday, We had daily cleaning. And to-morrow morning, We shall have what to do after firing. But to-day, To-day we have naming of parts. Japonica Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,          And to-day we have naming of parts.

This is the lower sling swivel. And this Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see, When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel, Which in your case you have not got. The branches Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,          Which in our case we have not got.

This is the safety-catch, which is always released With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see          Any of them using their finger.

And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:          They call it easing the Spring.

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt, And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance, Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,          For to-day we have naming of parts.

HENRY REED