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fyeurdegrois · 1 year

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The hall of the house was cool as a vault. Mrs. Dalloway raised her hand to her eyes, and, as the maid shut the door to, and she heard the swish of Lucy's skirts, she felt like a nun who has left the world and feels fold round her the familiar veils and the response to old devotions. The cook whistled in the kitchen. She heard the click of the typewriter. It was her life, and, bending her head over the hall table, she bowed beneath the influence, felt blessed and purified, saying to herself, as she took the pad with the telephone message on it, how moments like this are buds on the tree of life, flowers of darkness they are, she thought (as if some lovely rose had blossomed for her eyes only); not for a moment did she believe in God; but all the more, she thought, taking up the pad, must one repay in daily life to servants, yes, to dogs and canaries, above all to Richard her husband, who was the foundation of it—of the gay sounds, of the green lights, of the cook even whistling, for Mrs. Walker was Irish and whistled all day long—one must pay back from this secret deposit of exquisite moments, she thought, lifting the pad, while Lucy stood by her, trying to explain how

"Mr. Dalloway, ma'am"—

Clarissa read on the telephone pad, "Lady Bruton wishes to know if Mr. Dalloway will lunch with her to-day."

"Mr. Dalloway, ma'am, told me to tell you he would be lunching out."

"Dear!" said Clarissa, and Lucy shared as she meant her to her disappointment (but not the pang); felt the concord between them; took the hint; thought how the gentry love; gilded her own future with calm; and, taking Mrs. Dalloway's parasol, handled it like a sacred weapon which a Goddess, having acquitted herself honourably in the field of battle, sheds, and placed it in the umbrella stand.

"Fear no more," said Clarissa. Fear no more the heat o' the sun; for the shock of Lady Bruton asking Richard to lunch without her made the moment in which she had stood shiver, as a plant on the river-bed feels the shock of a passing oar and shivers: so she rocked: so she shivered.

Millicent Bruton, whose lunch parties were said to be extraordinarily amusing, had not asked her. No vulgar jealousy could separate her from Richard. But she feared time itself, and read on Lady Bruton's face, as if it had been a dial cut in impassive stone, the dwindling of life; how year by year her share was sliced; how little the margin that remained was capable any longer of stretching, of absorbing, as in the youthful years, the colours, salts, tones of existence, so that she filled the room she entered, and felt often as she stood hesitating one moment on the threshold of her drawing-room, an exquisite suspense, such as might stay a diver before plunging while the sea darkens and brightens beneath him, and the waves which threaten to break, but only gently split their surface, roll and conceal and encrust as they just turn over the weeds with pearl.

She put the pad on the hall table. She began to go slowly upstairs, with her hand on the bannisters, as if she had left a party, where now this friend now that had flashed back her face, her voice; had shut the door and gone out and stood alone, a single figure against the appalling night, or rather, to be accurate, against the stare of this matter-of-fact June morning; soft with the glow of rose petals for some, she knew, and felt it, as she paused by the open staircase window which let in blinds flapping, dogs barking, let in, she thought, feeling herself suddenly shrivelled, aged, breastless, the grinding, blowing, flowering of the day, out of doors, out of the window, out of her body and brain which now failed, since Lady Bruton, whose lunch parties were said to be extraordinarily amusing, had not asked her.

Like a nun withdrawing, or a child exploring a tower, she went upstairs, paused at the window, came to the bathroom. There was the green linoleum and a tap dripping. There was an emptiness about the heart of life; an attic room. Women must put off their rich apparel. At midday they must disrobe. She pierced the pincushion and laid her feathered yellow hat on the bed. The sheets were clean, tight stretched in a broad white band from side to side. Narrower and narrower would her bed be. The candle was half burnt down and she had read deep in Baron Marbot's Memoirs. She had read late at night of the retreat from Moscow. For the House sat so long that Richard insisted, after her illness, that she must sleep undisturbed. And really she preferred to read of the retreat from Moscow. He knew it. So the room was an attic; the bed narrow; and lying there reading, for she slept badly, she could not dispel a virginity preserved through childbirth which clung to her like a sheet. Lovely in girlhood, suddenly there came a moment—for example on the river beneath the woods at Clieveden—when, through some contraction of this cold spirit, she had failed him. And then at Constantinople, and again and again. She could see what she lacked. It was not beauty; it was not mind. It was something central which permeated; something warm which broke up surfaces and rippled the cold contact of man and woman, or of women together. For that she could dimly perceive. She resented it, had a scruple picked up Heaven knows where, or, as she felt, sent by Nature (who is invariably wise); yet she could not resist sometimes yielding to the charm of a woman, not a girl, of a woman confessing, as to her they often did, some scrape, some folly. And whether it was pity, or their beauty, or that she was older, or some accident—like a faint scent, or a violin next door (so strange is the power of sounds at certain moments), she did undoubtedly then feel what men felt. Only for a moment; but it was enough. It was a sudden revelation, a tinge like a blush which one tried to check and then, as it spread, one yielded to its expansion, and rushed to the farthest verge and there quivered and felt the world come closer, swollen with some astonishing significance, some pressure of rapture, which split its thin skin and gushed and poured with an extraordinary alleviation over the cracks and sores! Then, for that moment, she had seen an illumination; a match burning in a crocus; an inner meaning almost expressed. But the close withdrew; the hard softened. It was over—the moment. Against such moments (with women too) there contrasted (as she laid her hat down) the bed and Baron Marbot and the candle half-burnt. Lying awake, the floor creaked; the lit house was suddenly darkened, and if she raised her head she could just hear the click of the handle released as gently as possible by Richard, who slipped upstairs in his socks and then, as often as not, dropped his hot-water bottle and swore! How she laughed!

#I can't. I can't. The exquisiteness coming from it.#virginia woolf #mrs dalloway

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enouementiisms-a · 4 years

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✰ it’s time to wake up, BURTON ‘GUS’ GUSTER II, you’ve been in cryosleep for too long and the people of PSYCH miss you. when you went into slumber you were FORTY-TWO years old, your pronouns are HE/HIM, and you WERE VOLUNTEERED for the expanse program. now that you’ve awoken, your position as a TEACHER is waiting for you. remember, the expanse thanks you!

THE BASICS;

NAME: Burton ‘Gus’ Guster II

ALIAS(ES): Super Smeller, Super Sniffer, Peter Panic, Gus ‘Sillypants’ Jackson, François, Magic Head, Chocolate Columbo, Doctor Mc … Took, The Jackal, Earnest Lambert Watkins, Mr Vocabulary, Felicia Fancybottom, Bud, D'Andre, Gus T. T. Showbiz, Ovaltine Jenkins, Burton ‘Oil Can’ Guster, the G, Big Head Burton, Burton the Billowy Bear, Magic Head, Tabrickisha Schillington, Cowboy Lendo, Shmuel Cohen, Galileo Humpkins, Schoonie ‘U-Turn’ Singleton, Nick-Nack, Lavender Gooms, Doctor Guster, Tan, Bruton ‘Gasty’ Gaster, Patty Simcox, Fearless Guster, Lemongrass Gogulope, Die Harder, Squirts MacIntosh, Ernesto Agapito Garcés con ya de Abelar, Big Baby Burton, Black Star, Homeskillet, Methuselah Honeysuckle, Chesterfield McMillan and wife, Longbranch Pennywhistle, Scrooge Jones, Gussie, Hummingbird Saltalamacchia, Step Anthony Wally Ali (Cat Stuck in a Tree), Resourceful Gus, Taye Diggs, Dequan ‘Smallpox’ Randolph, Hollabackatcha, Slicks, Sterling Cooper, Trapezious Milkington, Jazz Hands, Shawn, Detective Miles, Gus Brown John Slade, Ron Davis, Rich Fingerland aka Bob Adams, Black Magic, Harry Munroe, Cheswicke, Doughnut Holschtein, Ghee Buttersnaps AKA The Heater, The Vault of Secrets, Clementine Woollysocks, Guts, Ol’ Ironside, Old Iron Stomach, Tin Tummy, Gustice, Jonathan Jacob Jingly Smith, Santonio Holmes, Deon Richmond, Gurton Buster, Chaz Bono, Chocolate Einstein, MC Clap Yo Handz, Road Rash, Mellowrush, Miss Whittlebury, Crankshaft, G-Force, Sher-Black-Lock, Imhotep or He Cometh in Peace, Control Alt Delete, Yasmine Bleeth, Lodge Blackman, Mission Figgs, RadioStar, Gusjay Gupta, Original G-String AKA Crowd Pleasah, Tap-Man, Watson Williams, Benedict Arnold Jackson, Suggs, Ingle Woods, Brutal Hustler, Fellatio Del Toro, Eddie Adams from Torrance, Larenz Tate, Sh'Dynasty, Candyman, Gurn Blandsten, Immaculate Conception, Pootie Tang, Domo Arigato, Jonas Gustavsson, Blue Ivy Carter, Bill Ofrights, Vijay Armitraj, Django Unchained, A Playa Named Gus, Darryl, Flapjack Palmdale, Burton Trout (no relation), Bad News Marvin Barnes, Lil’ Wayne, King Mongkut, Gigi Van Tran, Trending Ontwitter, Robert ‘Booooooooooob’ Jones, My Black Cameron, Dr. Alan Champion, Angela Bennett, Jack Devlin, Jason Bourne, Jack Bauer, Tony Stark, Billy Elliott, Ferris Bueller, Edward Scissorhands, Hans Solo, Hans Landa, Han-Na Montana, Mr. Popper, Mr. Bee, Mr. Ripley, Mr. Deeds, Mr. Pink, Mr. White, Mr. Brown, Mr. Blonde, Mr. T, Dr. T, Dr. Jekyll, Dr. Phibes, Dr. Evil, Dr. Horrible, Dr. Dolittle, Frodo, Gandalf, Bilbo, Neo, Morpheus, Trinity, Simba, Zazu, Ross, Chandler, Joey, Jerry, George, Elaine, Kramer, Kirk, Spock, Picard, Data, Denzel Diggs Underwood Morris Chestnut Washington, Burton Guster Black Spencer.

AGE: 42

BIRTHDAY & ZODIAC: December 1977, Sagittarius

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: He/Him/His

FACECLAIM: Dulé Hill

PERSONALITY: ISFJ-A

A DEEPER LOOK;

BACKGROUND: Status: Alive. For Gus, this has been a very important thing his entire life. That is not an exaggeration. With a best friend like Shawn Spencer, it’s surprisingly easy to be at risk, sometimes multiple times in one day. When Gus was younger, he nearly got away from Shawn thanks to schooling and his parents interference, but when Shawn helped the Guster family, Gus’ parents backed down. Years, and a sham marriage passed, Gus was living his best life as a pharmaceutical sales rep, making 48k a year. He was where he belonged. With a best friend like Shawn Spencer, it’s surprisingly easy to have one’s life plans go awry. Gus still worked as a pharm. sales rep, but too often, he ended up being the getaway driver in the police cases Shawn managed to worm them both into. As the years passed, Gus still complained about it but when the chance came to go back to his comfortable career and say goodbye to his best friend, Gus chose to say goodbye to the comfortable life, knowing it wouldn’t be the same if he was on his own.

KEY RELATIONSHIPS: Bill and Winnie Guster (parents), Joy Guster (older sister), Shawn Spencer (best friend), Burton Guster I (uncle, namesake), Mira Gaffney (ex-wife), Rachael (ex-girlfriend) and her son Maximus.

WEAPONS: The Blueberry.

POWERS/ABILITIES/SKILLS: Tap dancing, expert safe cracker, vocal manipulation, bomb defusal, incredible sense of smell.

GREATEST STRENGTH: His friendship with Shawn.

GREATEST WEAKNESS/FLAW: His friendship with Shawn.

OUTFIT THEY WOKE UP IN: Pinstripe button down shirt, tan slacks, dress shoes.

FAVORITE FOOD: A poached egg with hollandaise sauce on an English muffin.

ONE FEAR: The “head peel.” (It’s his fourth greatest fear.)

ONE HOPE: To survive the strangest case he’s ever been on and to really let Shawn have a piece of Gus’ mind if they ever see each other again.

ONE HEADCANON: Gus won’t go anywhere without The Blueberry to the point of clinging onto it with all his might until he at least gets to have his trusty car with him.

THE QUESTIONNAIRE;

How does your character feel about being dropped into the expanse program? Are they excited? Suspicious? Confused? -- Suspicious as heck. He’s still convinced this entire thing is an elaborate escape room Shawn’s cooked up for him.

What does your character hope to see the most during the expanse 009’s journey? -- Home.

If your character could bring one thing from home, what would it be? -- While it’s not exactly how he remembers it, he has his Blueberry so he doesn’t need anything else.

#expanse:charintro #『introductions ✧ burton guster ii』

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whitepolaris · 3 years

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What’s Buried in Bacon’s Secret Crypt?

A secret crypt, said to be buried near a local church in Williamsburg, may hold answers to an old mystery and plans for a new world order. The hidden crypt is supposedly located next to the Bruton Parish Episcopal Church, today to be found in the restored tourist area of Colonial Williamsburg. The only problem is that although it’s been around since the late 1600s and has been actively sought since 1938, no one has found it. Most of the background for the hidden vault tales comes from Marie Bauer Hall’s book, Foundations Unearthed. Her husband was Manley Palmer Hall, a famous 33rd-degree Mason, author, lecturer, and mystic. His most famous book is The Secret Teachings of All Ages: An Encyclopedic Outline of Masonic, Hermetic, Qabbalistic and Rosicrucian Symbolical Philosophy (1928).

Marie Hall writes that the secret vault is a ten-foot cubicle, buried sixteen feet below the cemetery of the Bruton Parish Church, which sites right on the main street of this restored area of the city. You don’t need a treasure map for this one. She writes that the crypt to be found ninety feet northwest of the church’s door and ten feet west of the graver marker of Ann Frank, the wife of Graham Frank. The name itself is a clue, as “Ann Graham” is a hint to the fact that anagrams lead to this treasure.

Marie Bauer Hall received permission in 1938 to dig in the churchyard, but found nothing. Her desire to conduct deeper excavations was forestalled by Williamsburg and Episcopal Church officials, and so the crypt, if it exists, sits undiscovered.

What is the secret vault reported to contain? The contents are not minor trinkets, please note. Hall wrote that the crypt held the master plan for nothing less than a new world order, the answer to who really wrote Shakespeare’s plays (it was Sir Francis Bacon), some plays written by Bacon, and, last but not least. a map of other secret Rosicrucian vaults throughout Europe filled with other similar all-telling documents.

Hall believed the secret crypt was buried there by Nathaniel Bacon in 1676, preceding Bacon’s Rebellion, the first uprising by the colonists against the British in America. The causes of the unrest were poor economic conditions, made harsher by an uncanny series of natural disasters including floods, hailstorms, drought, and hurricanes that left Virginia reeling.

For a short time, Nathaniel Bacon was actually in charge of Virginia, but it all ended on October 26, 1676, when he suddenly died of the “Bloodie Flux” and “Lousey Disease” (body lice). According to what is known today, Bacon’s rebel supporters burned his body and it was never found, very much reflecting the fate of his secret vault.

#type read #weird virginia

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