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salut-imsyuka · 3 years

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Kono Hanasakuya-Hime - 𝓣h𝓮 𝓢𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓾𝓫𝓾𝓼

So here’s my entry for @ladykendalsims BC ! Again thank you so much for the extra time darling ♥ I’m sorry that I couldn’t send it on time !

Outdoor Enthusiast - Kleptomaniac, Loves Outdoor, Materialistic

My bachelorette's name is Kono, she's a 41 years old sim !

Kono is omnisexual, her pronouns are she/her

She may seem rather cold and cynical at first, but Kono has very little confidence in herself, she is trying to protect herself !

She has a rather sharp and very dry sens of humour

The gang she was in called her « The Succubus »

She’s a former prostitute

Kono has an immeasurable passion for flora, she is a pro when it comes to making concoctions, poisons and filters of all kinds, she would be very helpful in Crimson's shelter has she also masters gardening

Kono is not gifted in combat. To be honest, since the virus she focuses on improving her botanical abilities, she barely knows how to use a gun ! (but she always hides a pretty dagger in her boots)

She travels with a female doberman called Ba, she is her faithful companion

Born in the pale and frozen flanks of Mount Komorebi, Kono grew up in the very essence of the traditions. Yet she did not want to lock herself in the archaic straitjacket of custom. Indeed, she could not curb her inextinguishable thirst for adventure and left as soon as possible her home to discover the extent of the world that was open to her. So she landed in the dazzling town of San Myshuno, far too big and vicious for this little, naive woman who thought she could put the world at her feet. (more in depth story below)

Her pumps, far too high for her, slammed the lino's floor in the hotel room. It occasionally annoyed her neighbors of rooms, young women, who, like her, were tempted by the lure of gain ; each had their reasons : to make money easily, to pay food for their children, or to pay for their education, as Kono's case. She often oscillated between college classes and passing with clients, an unhealthy rhythm that allowed her, in spite of everything, to perhaps one day, after all the efforts and work that she provided -- especially hope -- finish her degree in botanic. But she ended up in a shabby hotel room, like all those girls who, like her, had their head full of dreams. Kono was caught in a vicious circle. She robbed her clients on the orders of her pimps, when she realized that she could earn much more than she imagined, she could no longer resist stealing, not without scruples.

In the mirror riddled with blinding white LEDs, she often looked at herself to touch up her gloss, her eyeshadow that sometimes flowed ; and with a stroke of a brush she became again the pretty doll adored by her customers. In a whisper comming from the hollow of her lips she repeated to herself, in a loud voice and standing proud in front of her reflection, that she was the best, that she was strong, powerful and beautiful, that one day her dreams would be within her reach. Only, she could not look at herself very long in the mirror, her atrocious reflection reminded her of the biggest mistake of her life, she embodied this mistake. She could see her younger self in her disguting reflection : a joyful little girl like the others, running through the frozen and arduous forests of Mount Komorebi. Each plant, each flower, she tried to gather them all in a small notebook with pages that were twisted by the snow. It was decorated with drawings of children and coloured with paint. It was as if she had never existed, or worse, as if Kono had slaughtered her childhood dreams with a backhand.

Kono has never had particular problems with romantic relationships : sure of herself and very enterprising, she was not afraid to trigger discussions, she even liked contact rather well. But it was over. Erased by prostitution, she thought, sincerely and from the depths of her heart not to deserve a single ounce of love, if not the one that her clients gave her : false, livid, she was the loved toy, but the one that you didn't want to take care of, because it was dirty and worn out ; instead, it was the doll that was passed from hand to hand for a limited time, a session of pleasure that did not exceed twenty minutes. She had wasted herself all her chances of one day meeting love, she was convinced. Still stuck in her tight dresses and lingerie, she thought she was worthless to anyone, to herself. As a result, Kono has a rather dismal relationship with her body, she has difficulty in taking into consideration her fleshly envelope, seeing herself only as a way of satisfying the urges of men. She therefore had little confidence in herself, and hid herself badly behind her make-up and her style, which, as she hopes, discourage anyone from approaching her.

In the misfortune of others she thought she could find a way out with the zombie virus spreading. She could leave the gang that had held her on a leash for many years, she was now the mistress of her own destiny. In the occasional panic sown by the hordes of zombies, she had, during a fiery afternoon, taken advantage of the surrounding panic to flee, bringing with her women who, like her, were alienated to the gang. They had become her sisters, her friends, her daughters, her family. For about fifteen years Kono took care of these girls as a mother would have done, each with her skills participated in the life and prosperity of the shelter. But Kono realized that she had never lived for herself. She, of such an independent and adventurous nature, had never taken care of herself. She left the shelter under the protection of Jolynn, a young woman who had followed her when she ran away from her gang. Jolynn, like all these girls, was a former prostitute, unlike Kono, she had warm blood, but Konno was sure that it would serve the protection of the shelter, she had blind confidence in the young woman ; and for good reason, they had a truly merging relationship. That’s how she went out on the roads to discover herself. Deep down, Kono was just a human, but she was about 40 years old, it was now or never. (btw I’d like to add that I am aware that sex workers aren’t always forced to do their jobs (there isn’t always a pimp behind), it was only the turn I wanted Kono’s story to take. I fully support sex workers ♥)

#crimson's post apocalyptic bachelor challenge #syuka #ts4 bachelor challenge #ts4 edit #ts4 #tw prostitution

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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A/N: Hey, remember that made-up fic title game where I made this up and then an anon asked for it and I said I was already kinda working on it? No? Me either. But here’s a fic about Rafael being kidnapped. I’ve always wanted to write a darker fic where reader gets to go ham, so I did! I also love the idea of shooting someone while they��re posturing, and hate that it doesn’t happen in shows/movies. Lemme know if you want a part 2 or not!

Edit: I forgot to mention that this is dedicated to @prurientpuddlejumper, who wanted so bad for me to stab Rafi

Tags: kidnapping, murder/death, guns, whump (but not really until the end?), allusions to torture by knife/stabbings

Words: 3890

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @barbasimp @dianilaws @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

“Rafi, what the hell is this?” you asked, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed. You were inside his office at One Hogan Place—what was a happy surprise was slowly turning into something more—glaring at the desk. Everything was in its place, undisturbed, except for an open letter laying innocently on the wood. You couldn’t see the handwritten words, but you could make out the crest that acted as a signature—the emblem of the BX9 gang. You had seen it multiple times in your career as detective in Manhattan’s homicide department, usually spray painted at a crime scene, or tattooed on a member. Or carved into someone skin with a dull knife in more extreme cases.

Rafael came up behind you, glancing over your shoulder at his desk. He sighed. “Just a thinly veiled threat, hermosa. Nothing to worry about—”

“Nothing to worry about?” you spat. “BX9 is threatening you and there’s nothing to worry about?”

He grimaced at your tone. “Cariño, they’ve been threatening me since I became an ADA—it’s background noise at this point.” He kissed your cheek, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I promise you; it’s fine.”

You melted against his solid chest, but you didn’t uncross your arms. “It doesn’t feel fine, Raf…what if something happens? What are they even threatening you about?”

His lips moved to your neck, kissing the soft skin just below your ear. “Remember that conviction I got last week on Alfonse Romero? Well, he was a high-ranking member of the BX9…. They want him released,” he explained.

“That’s…a serious threat, Raf,” you murmured back. You moved your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck as your body started to relax under his touch. “Do I need to have unis watching you?”

Rafael bit down on your neck and you let out a whimper. “No, and I don’t want to talk about this right now. Right now, I just want you,” he whispered, kissing and sucking at you. He was impossible to resist, and you let him push you towards his desk, his hands groping at you.

******************

Ever since you learned your husband was coming under threats, you started wearing your vest everywhere under your shirt, just in case. BX9 were ruthless, and it wouldn’t surprise you if they went after you to hurt Rafael, whether you were a detective or not—they didn’t have qualms about killing cops. You wanted Rafael to wear a vest under his suits as well, but he refused, thinking it ridiculous. Even so, you snagged one that was his size from the department, and headed home, intending to force it on him. You’d rather him safe, if uncomfortable, than dead; fuck his pride. It was the weekend, so he was off, relaxing on the couch last you saw him that morning.

The elevator doors dinged open and you walk towards your shared loft but stop short. Even from here, you could see that the door is slightly open, the wood in the frame splintered. Your heart in your throat, you hurry to the door, unholstering your gun as you go. You push the door open, aiming you gun inside.

“Rafael?” you called out, taking a few steps in. The coatrack by the door has been knocked over, and there’s flecks of red on the carpet. Blood. Rage and fear coursed through you, and it’s with shaky hands that you step over it, moving through the quiet loft, searching every room. But there’s no sign of anyone there. Holstering your gun, you looked for something, anything, that could be a clue as to where they took him. There was no doubt in your mind as to who took him, and you closed your eyes, sending a silent prayer that he was still alive, fear and nausea overtaking you for just a moment before you shoved it down.

There was a piece of paper on the coffee table in the living room, and you could see the familiar crest of BX9. You glanced over it, your eyes scanning it quickly as you read it once, twice, your breath coming in sharper as you absorbed the words.

“Release our Captain Romero to us by 9am tomorrow morning, and we’ll trade back the lawyer. Fail to give us Romero, and you’ll find the lawyer’s corpse. -BX9”

You clenched your hands into fists. The good news was that Rafael was alive. The bad news was there was absolutely no way you could get Romero released, especially by 9am…it was already 1pm—you had less than 24 hours. There was an address at the end of the note; the meeting place for the exchange. You snapped a picture of it on your phone, then left the loft. You had some favors to call in, but one thought kept coming back to you; if there was so much as a scratch on Rafael Barba, you were going to kill everyone involved.

*********************

“BX9 owns this warehouse,” one of your informants, Johnny, relayed to you. “I’ve seen a couple guys going in and out recently.”

You nodded. “But you didn’t see the ADA?”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “But I did find a back door that seemed unguarded.”

That caught your attention. “Show me.”

It was 10pm, and your resolve had only hardened with the passing time. You had less than 12 hours to find your husband. After going to the meeting place and finding it deserted, you had sent out every druggie and rat that owed you a favor to track down BX9 hubs. You had then busied yourself with gearing up—making sure your vest was on tight, your ammo in your handgun full, an extra clip on your hip. You also grabbed your trusty pocketknife, and finished your ensemble with a fully-loaded, pump-action shotgun strapped to your back. You didn’t plan on taking hostages—BX9 would extend the same curtesy to you. It was all about who could pull the trigger faster. And you didn’t plan on losing.

Olivia Benson, head of Manhattan’s SVU, who Rafael worked with constantly and considered a friend, had tried to contact you after finding your home broken into, but you had ignored her calls. No distractions. You were going to find Rafael, and there was going to be hell to pay. There was a good chance you were going to lose your shield for this, but you didn’t care. You just didn’t want to drag anyone else into this. If you lost your job protecting your husband, then so be it. You didn’t need the self-righteous Lieutenant, nor her loyal lapdogs, holding you back.

*****************

The warehouse seemed dark, abandoned…except for the one or two men in black, trying to look nondescript. They were doing inconspicuous laps around the place, or would lean against the front of the building, smoking. It made sense why the back door was unguarded, though—the warehouse was on the harbor, the back of the building against the water. You’d have to swim to get there. Not a problem.

“Thank you, Johnny,” you murmured. “Keep your eyes open for other hotspots, in case he’s not here.” He nodded, and you waved your hand, dismissing him. You were on a separate pier, gazing across the black waters to the warehouse that most likely held Rafael. As Johnny left, you looked around, trying to see if there was an easier solution than swimming; it was already 40 degrees outside, and the cool breeze would chill you to the bone if you were wet. Plus, you had your gun and a shotgun slung across your back that wouldn’t work if waterlogged.

Luckily, you found a small, rubber raft attached to a boat, oars laying on the deck next to it. You grabbed an oar, gently tossing it down to the raft below, then climbed down the ladder. One foot in the raft and taking out your pocketknife, you quickly cut through the ropes that tied the raft to the boat, then fully sat down inside. Silently, you paddled against the light current, heading towards the back of the warehouse. The two men never thought to check the water, their vigil consisting of only the front doors. It was an almost 30-minute fight across such a small expanse of water, your arms burning as you made it to the other side, but you felt none of it, your anger fueling you.

You carefully climbed up the ladder onto the pier, heading to the back door on silent feet. The door was locked, and you squatted by the locking mechanism. You popped open your pocketknife, shoving it into the keyhole. You fiddled with it, jerking it this way and that, trying to brute force your way in—you didn’t have anything else to pick the lock…besides the shotgun on your back. But that wasn’t really silent.

With a satisfying click, the keyhole turned. You tried the doorknob, and it turned, opening the door as the blade of your knife snapped inside the keyhole. Glancing at your broken pocketknife, you closed it, tucking it back into your pocket before entering the warehouse. A broken knife is still a sharp object, and the blade was still good for cutting ropes or tape.

It was silent inside as you crept along, gun held at the ready. You weren’t nervous, you weren’t sad. All you felt was a cold, simmering rage that was barely being contained within you…and the smallest kernel of fear that Rafael may be severely injured or worse. If he was truly dead, then—no, you wouldn’t finish that thought. He couldn’t be dead. You weren’t quite sure what you’d do if he was, and that scared you more than anything. But you took that fear and shoved it deep within yourself, letting anger and instinct take over. There’d be plenty of time for fear and stress later.

Gun drawn, you made your way down a hallway of open doors, the rooms small and empty, when you heard a muffled groan from behind a closed door. You holstered your gun, taking out the shotgun—if this room was like the others you had passed, it was small enough for the shotgun.

Holding the shotgun at the ready, you made your way to the door, then knocked harshly, taking a step back and aiming. As the door opened, you looked a member of the BX9 in the face before you pulled the trigger, blasting him backwards.

“What the fuck?” a voice yelled from inside the room. You kicked the door open, and it bounced off the dead man’s leg. You wedged your foot against the bottom of it, propping it open, and shoved the barrel of the shotgun towards the other man standing there. He jumped back in shock and fear, putting his hands up, a bloody knife falling from his hand and clattering to the floor. Between you was a man strapped to a chair, his back to you. But one look told you it wasn’t Rafael—he had blonde hair and his shoulders weren’t as broad. The man in the chair let out another groan, but you didn’t look away from the other BX9 member.

“Where’s Rafael Barba being held?” you asked, voice dangerous.

“Yo, he’s the one we tradin’ for Romero, right?” The man asked, voice shaky.

You gripped the shotgun tighter. “You have until the count of three to give me a location. One—”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t part o’ that hit! I was here, with—”

“Two—”

“I…I can find out! Lemme just text Jose—”

“Three.” You pulled the trigger, the shotgun blast deafening in the small room and silencing the man, splattering his blood on the wall behind him. You moved into the room, squatting down and reaching into the second dead man’s pocket, pulling out his cell. It was an old flip phone—a burner cell—so you didn’t need him to unlock it for you. You thumbed through the contacts until you found Jose, shooting him a text, asking for Rafael’s location. As you went to leave the room, you glanced at the poor man slumped in the chair, whimpering and groaning in pain. Using the burner cell, you called 911, requesting an ambulance, before leaving the warehouse. If Rafael was in the same shape as that man…you were already clenching your fists in rage.

****************

Jose didn’t text you back until almost 6am. Needless to say, you were furious, waiting for information, checking other BX9 hotspots, but finding no hint of Rafael there. At least he gave you an address instead of wondering why you were asking questions. So, with less than 3 hours remaining, you made your way to the destination, shotgun on your back and handgun on your hip. You felt no exhaustion from the sleepless night, having kept busy searching the city for your husband, your anger fueling you like gas to a flame.

You were across the street from where Jose had told you; it was an empty lot, a chain-link fence surrounding it, a rusted-out shipping container in the far end. Either Jose had completely fucked you, or they were in that shipping container. The only problem with the second option was that if you shot your gun—either one—inside there, you’d probably burst everyone’s eardrums, including your own…and Rafael’s, if he was indeed in there. But how to lure them out?

You made your way through the gate, your eyes never leaving the shipping crate. The opening was facing you; even though you could only see darkness inside with the barely rising sun casting shadows, you were sure they could see you just fine.

“I got your Captain out here,” you lied, your voice echoing along the buildings. “Show me the counselor.”

You heard scuffling inside, and a low voice saying, “go check,” before a man stepped out into the light.

“Where’s Romero?” he asked gruffly, coming to stand in front of you.

“Safe. Where’s Rafael?” you shot back, flexing your hands. The man had a gun in his waistband, but you knew you could draw faster.

“Safe,” he parroted back. “Show me Romero, and I’ll show you the lawyer.”

You stared at each other for a long time, sizing each other up. His hand twitched and you drew your gun, shooting him once in the chest. He had only made it halfway to his waistband before he was falling to the ground. You heard a scrambling inside the crate, and you aimed at the opening, waiting.

“Show me the ADA,” you called. “Or you all die.” You didn’t know how many there were, but you were following your own rationale—they wouldn’t fire a gun inside the container. Though there was still the option of stabbing Rafael…and you were praying they wouldn’t give up a chance at getting Romero back that easily by killing him.

A burly looking man came lumbering into the open, but you paid him no attention, your eyes instead locked on the man he was half-dragging with him. Rafael looked barely conscious, blood leaking from his temple and nose, his polo shirt torn and splattered with red. It looked like he had multiple stab wounds and cuts, and his legs were shaky beneath him. You clenched your teeth, your heart in your throat, but you didn’t lower your arm, gun still aimed at the man. You were seeing red as your eyes went to the gun pressed against the side of Rafael’s lolling head, then back to the man holding him up.

“Drop your gun, or he dies,” the man commanded.

A rush of adrenaline pumped through you, but you willed yourself to stay calm, unblinking as you stared the man down, unmoving. “I’m only going to say this once; let my husband go, or I’ll make you let him go,” you muttered, voice barely audible.

The man laughed. “Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do—” He was cut off as you pulled the trigger, hitting him between the eyes. As he fell backwards, Rafael stumbled forward, his legs buckling beneath him. You rushed forward, dropping your gun and catching him as he fell to his knees.

“Babe, look at me, are you okay? We gotta get you to a hospital,” you murmured, all the anger and rage that had filled you for the past day instantly leaving you. All you felt now was concern for your husband, and a profound relief that he was alive…plus an all-encompassing exhaustion that quickly filled in where the anger had left. You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you through fluttering eyelids.

“…[y/n]? Wh-what happened?... I’m so tired…” Rafael mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open.

“Stay with me, baby,” you replied, suddenly afraid that he may not survive. You pulled out your phone with one hand, calling 911 for an ambulance, while lifting his shirt with your other hand, checking his injuries. He had various cuts and stabs on his torso, but they all seemed old, the blood dried. You grit your teeth as fleeting anger washed through you once more, wishing you left the bastards alive so that you could shoot them again.

Helping Rafael to his feet, you half-walked, half-dragged him out of the lot, laying him on the cool concrete. You murmured encouragement to him while waiting for the ambulance, trying to keep him conscious, your heart straining. The police showed up first—someone must’ve called in the gunshots. You flashed your badge, telling them that the two dead were with BX9 and were killed in self-defense. Not a full lie, but you also weren’t telling them the full truth, either. They didn’t ask too many questions, and you surrendered the shotgun instantly, your handgun laying in the lot still.

The ambulance finally came just as Rafael lost consciousness. You waved the paramedics over, watching with bated breath as they loaded him onto a gurney.

“I’m riding with him,” you said, climbing into the ambulance with your husband, clutching his hand.

***************

Rafael slowly awoke a few hours after being admitted to the hospital, his hand still clutched in yours. You had yet to contact SVU—or IAB, for that matter—wanting to let Rafael and yourself relax before being subjected to all the visitors, all the questions. The various cuts and stab wounds were shallow, and only a few needed stitches. Thankfully, he didn’t have anything too serious done to him physically—probably because they were afraid that they wouldn’t get Romero back if they fucked Rafael up too much.

“Hey, honey. How’re you feeling?” you asked, voice soft.

He blinked groggily, eyes slightly unfocused. “Like I was hit repeatedly by a car,” he groaned, trying to sit up.

“Relax, dear. Don’t strain yourself,” you said, but he didn’t stop. So, rolling your eyes at his stubbornness, you helped him sit up.

Once up, you poured him some water, then helped him lift the cup to his mouth. “What happened? I…I remember getting attacked from behind at home. They knocked me out…and then I woke up in a metal room…” he trailed off, and you could see the pain in his eyes.

“I found you in a storage container in an empty lot—they wanted to trade you for Romero,” you explained, eyes hard. You both fell to silence for a moment before you said quietly, “if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. You know I won’t judge you.”

Rafael was silent for a long time, eyes downcast. He wasn’t one to talk freely about his emotions or thoughts—something that you learned to live with—but he was getting better about it with you. “When he stabbed me the first time, all I could think about was you…about how I was never going to see you again. I was sure I was going to die in that box….” Tears clouded his vision, and your heart shattered. “They didn’t tell me why I was there, why they took me. I…I didn’t know what was happening—”

“It’s okay, baby; you’re safe now,” you muttered, squeezing his hand. “I got you.”

Rafael sniffled. “I…should’ve listened to you about the threats. You were right—I should’ve had protection—”

“It’s in the past, Rafi. We can’t change it now.” It broke your heart to see Rafael like this, so shaken up. “Besides, I don’t think the BX9 are going to come anywhere near you anytime soon.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Why not? You didn’t give them Romero, did you?”

“Of course not. But….” You weren’t positive how to tell him, but you also couldn’t lie to him. “I was so…enraged when I found you were taken…. In the process of tracking you down, I may have…taken out some members….”

Rafael blinked at you. “You…you killed people?”

“Technically, yes, I did. But—”

“Are you crazy? How have you not been arrested yet? What’s going to happen—”

“Calm down, Raf. They were all done in self-defense. I won’t be arrested…though, I may lose my shield for it,” you explained.

Rafael fell back into silence as he thought about this. You were a little embarrassed about it, guilty because you knew how he felt about murder. But you wouldn’t feel bad about protecting your husband, and that’s what you had been doing. You weren’t sure how IAB would come at you, though, but you also weren’t too worried about it; you were a decorated detective with a clean record. Plus, there were no witnesses to what happened…except that one man in the warehouse. There would definitely be questions about why you left him strapped to a chair, bleeding out. And you didn’t think it would go to trial, but you were already wondering if “not guilty by mental defect” applied, since you were out of your mind with worry and rage at Rafael being abducted.

You shook yourself, pushing all that from your mind. “I do still want to have some protection put on you…just for a little, okay?”

Rafael nodded vaguely, gaze not quite meeting your eyes. “How long am I stuck here for?”

“I’m…not sure, but it shouldn’t be too much longer. They were waiting for you to wake up, but your injuries aren’t severe…. Speaking of, did you want me to find a—a therapist—”

“Absolutely not. I’m fine,” Rafael cut you off. You figured as much; he’d never admit something wrong with his mind, even when he had tough cases wearing him down for weeks, months. He just powers through it; that was his way. But you were afraid that this time may be different…for both of you.

You squeezed his hand once more, and his eyes softened as he looked at you. “Okay, love. Let me go find your nurse, see if I can take you home. I’m making you your favorite dinner tonight, and then we are sleeping in.”

Rafael gave you a soft smile, bringing your hand up, his lips brushing your knuckles lightly. “Thank you, mi amor. Te amo.”

“Te amo, Guapo,” you replied, standing and making your way out the door, reluctant to leave him alone, to take your eyes off him, even for a second. But Rafael was safe…for now…as safe as he could be.

#rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Monday 28 August 1837

7 20

12 40

Slept with A- fine autumnal morning F46° at 8 35 and off with A- walked with her as far as the old bar-house on her way to Cliff Hill – then sometime at Hipperholme quarry – Booth there – he followed me to the wheel-race – I said the wheel must be covered over – better make the building so that it would contain 3 or 4 worsted frames – I had quite given up the idea of a corn-mill (1st time of my decidedly saying this to B- or anyone, I think, except A- or Messrs Harper and Gray – and said it afterwards today to Robert Mann) – the building should be 19 yards long to cover wheelrace and pentrough – say 20 yards long x 8 yards wide within, and 10ft. high up to the square of the roof – the quantity of walling would be according to the n° of windows – say 30 roods of walling at 20/. or 21/. because carting from Hipperholme quarry is gain – but good common walling 18in. thick had lately cost 23/. or 24/. per rood – then there would be the hewing work windows and doors – there would be about 18 ½ squares of roofing at 45/. per square tho’ Mallinson had 50/. or 2 ½ guineas per square for Stump X Inn new building – it would be better to board the floor and then flag it over – this often done now – Suppose

Listerwick wheel-race covering over

30 roods walling at 21/. = 31.10.0

hewing work 10.0.0

say 20 squares roofing at 45 = 45.0.0

floor barded and flagged 50.0.0

joiners work 20.0.0

glaziers ditto 10.0.0

Painting 5.0.0

171.10.0

Staling at 8d. per yard finding laths and nails 7.10.0

slates 15.0.0

Plaster 10.0.0

204.0.0

Booth arrived soon after me set Edward Waddington and John Sharp and Gray the labourer to fill [pull] down the old saddle room – got the chimney down and window out and the slate off in the course of the day – James and Mark Sharp walling about doorways from the house into the west tower and 3 or 4 of B-‘s other men at the terrace steps near the draw well – Robert M- and c° at the rough dry walling against the turret passage – 2 or 3? of Mawson’s carts carting stuff from there the home gates are to be. to foot of embankment in the hall wood beyond the great sycamore – Parkinson and c° at the top terrace walls, and P- himself at finishing the coach house court cistern arches – Nelsons’ men at the turret – and full force of the Manns hired carts at the platform – the gardener and brick layers at the garden walls – came in to breakfast at 10 40 – Mr. Barber junior called about leave to shoot – sent word by George I was very particularly engaged and could not see him, but would send the written leave – out again at 11 ¼ - having first come upstairs for a few minutes and said my prayers with tears of gratitude trickling down and then wrote in pencil on a loose bit of paper ‘I think perpetually of A-‘s leaving me and wish it more and more how merciful providence has been to me given her to me to spirit me up in the beginning and now takes her away just when I see that she could not make me happy’….. out again at 11 ¼ - about – Day came between 12 and 1 and I gave him a bottle of cowslip wine to take back for Mrs. AW- she had had a good night and was much the same as yesterday according to A-‘s little written slip of paper – siding in the corn chamber till 4 ½ and then off to H-x down the old bank to Mr. Parker’s – nobody in the office – went for sometime to Whitley’s and ordered 50 copies of the advertisement and bought Pinnocks Taylors’ Greece (history of) and Curtis on the preservation of health - - then bought 2 very small locks (for the clock) at Ropes’ and returned to Mr. P-‘s office – he was returned from High roydes – had been to see how the people got on with the reparation of the roof – the dog that Mr. Sunderland gave my father at Holts’ (High roydes) under sentence to be shot, Marian not choosing to go on paying Mr. Parkinson (late Cordingley) 2/6 per week for his keep – Mr. Parker hesitated about shooting so fine a dog – I said he was not fit to shoot over and I should shoot him – enough – Marian’s order is to be executed – shewed P- my landtax papers received on Friday last and brought them back but signed the receipt for them on the printed form sent by Mr. Rance, and left it as a letter to be forwarded by Mr. P- P- then witnessed my signing the power of attorney for Messrs. Hugh Hammersleys banker and Marmaduke Pybus gentlemen both of Pall mall to receive the dividends for me on the £424 = £461.10.0 stock in the 3 percent [?] invested the other day for the infant Graham – P- signed ‘Robert Parker solicitor H-x Yorkshire’ adding the designation and address at my suggestion and dated the power today, 28 August – Mr. Carr from home till Saturday when P- saw him, and was coming here (Shibden) this afternoon if I had not gone to H-x would I see Mr. C-? no! I thought that would do no good – P- and Mr. Harper had best settle the matter – C- must be rid of the coaches by the 5th of October (to avoid the taxes) but would have no objection to land his name and keep them on for a month or 2 to convenience me – he to choose one valourer and I another, and if they did not agree, they to choose a 3rd. – I said this was fair – I desired P- to talk the matter over with Mr. Harper – said I had ordered a few copies of the advertisement which I meant to send to some people I knew, in London and Leamington – would it not be well to send one to Lacey of the Royal hotel Manchester? oh! said P- he would be a good person to value the coaches – made no answer but thought Mr. Harper’s man Kemplay of Leeds would do better for me – mentioned the field at Northgate let till Xmas by Messrs. Husband and Nelson – P- would impound the cattle and if the man made anything to do bring an action of trespass against him – mentioned also A-‘s public house at Hipperholme – P- should have a plan shewing the relative situations of the Inn and Ely Taylors’ beer shop and it would be well to have one of the Stump X Inn and Mr. Stocks’s new house – P- against Thomas Greenwood having a workshop at Northgate – he (P-) should see SW. to prove the notice to quit to Standeven – returned up the old bank – about ½ hour at P-‘s office – home about 5 40 – sauntered about – saw the gardener and told him he must speak to Robert Mann about a cart to cart the manure and told him I had to have the top garden wall brick inside, as also the south wall, but this latter faced with stone outside – came in at 6 40 – to tell A- to write note to SW. for the plans, and send it tonight by little John Booth who happened to be here – come for milk – dinner at 7 ½ - coffee at 8 40 – A- came upstairs at 9 40 and I a few minutes after – the large oak hall table moved this afternoon from the drawing room into the oak room and the model of Switzerland also from ditto into ditto and placed (as before) on the large oak table – I intended my portable bookcase and books to remain where they are till my room in the west tower is ready for them? fine day F50° at 10 pm – sat 1/2 hour with [A] partly at her bedside saying at dinner that P- would want SW about Standeven put her out of sorts but I gave her cherry brandy for poorliness! and took no notice of the temper Mr. Gray must see how the matter stands

the clock ½ hour too soon

stopt it that much tonight and then at 11 20 had just written all the above of today

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briankernick · 3 years

Text

BRIAN KERNICK, P.Eng, MBA Greenview Developments Ltd.

Brian was born and raised in the small town of Canmore, Alberta. His father owned Restwell Trailer Park just off main street Canmore. As Restwell Trailer Park expanded and grew, Brian developed interest and learned the basics of carpentry and development. As a kid, he learned to drive a backhoe and dump truck and how to hammer and paint.

His first development project was in Canmore, called Grotto Mountain Village. Grotto Mountain Village was a highly successful 125 manufactured housing community. After finishing the project, Brian decided to get his Masters in Business Administration (MBA) in Australia. Brian completed his MBA in 1998 and then worked in several large real estate consulting firms working for blue chip companies. He provided strategic evaluation advice and hands on development management services to companies and institutions looking to make direct property investments, engage in real estate development projects or alternatively undertaking the divestment of property.

Brian is an efficient, innovative, tenacious, performance-driven and methodical real estate developer with extensive multi-industry experience both across North America and abroad. He is well versed in Project Development and Management, Economic and Financial analysis, Acquisition and Disposal Strategies, Site Assessment, Town Planning, Engineering and Building design, Market geographic and demographic analysis.

Brian incorporated Greenview in 1988 with the intention of moving closer to his family and friends in Canada. Under Brian’s leadership, Greenview Developments has been involved in the construction, development and management of low-rise and high-rise residential and commercial properties, mixed-use developments and hotels. These developments have led to economic success, bottom-line results and award-winning projects.

Greenview’s model is based on understanding the entire life cycle of the development of a project and partnering with other experts that have varied and complimentary backgrounds and have the shared experience of working well together. Using this life cycle view, we aim to deliver the best possible results to all stakeholders involved.

CURRENT ON-GOING PROJECTS

1. HARBOUR LANDING BUSINESS PARK (REGINA)

Harbour Landing Business Park is a campus style office development consisting of four buildings each spanning 40,000 square feet (3-storey office building and a Tim Hortons coffee) in Regina, Saskatchewan. It is located near Regina International Airport. Buildings 1, 2 & 3 have been fully completed and phase 4 has commenced. It is a suburban office park that is located on the corner of Parliament Avenue and Lewvan Drive just north of the new Grasslands retail development. Three of the four office buildings have been completed and are occupied. They are located within minutes of the Regina Airport and the new Global Transportation Hub. They offer excellent access / egress from Lewvan Drive and access to acres of parks and walking paths. The tenant mix consists of Saskatchewan Cancer Agency, Association of Professional Engineers & Geoscientists of Saskatchewan (APEGS), Porchlight, Saskatchewan Healthcare Employees’ Pension Plan (SHEPP) and Chartered Professional Accountants Saskatchewan (CPA).

2. AVLI ON ATLANTIC (CALGARY)

AVLI is a private intimate building located in historic Inglewood, adjacent to the longest park pathway system in North America, in Calgary, Alberta. A home to 65 units of luxury residences with 7 floorplans for every buyer, budget and investor with boutique and cutting-edge interiors. It is comfortable in its setting, proud of its attributes and home to those who have an appreciation for remarkable art. AVLI on Atlantic features the finest in contemporary custom-made cabinetry and the stylish gourmet kitchens offer ultra-modern flat panel doors in a white high-gloss overlay finish with metallic edging.

Greenview Developments is the managing partner in this $36MM project which is nearly complete.

3. WILLIAM OFF WHYTE (EDMONTON)

It is a 44 unit, four-storey condo building that believes in bringing style and aesthetics to your life. It is rated one of the top streets in Canada providing a home you can really live in and admire. The project is located in central Edmonton, in the community of Garneau, and just off the popular and lively Whyte Avenue. William Off Whyte was completed in early 2020 with sales ongoing. Being near the University of Alberta main campus and Hospital also makes it ideal for students who want a stylish place to live. William Off Whyte has nine-foot ceilings, beautiful modern exterior, Italian cabinetry, soft close drawers, quartz counters, underground parking and bike storage and a choice of three colour schemes to suit your style.

PAST COMPLETED PROJECTS

1. Sage.Stone (Calgary)

Sage.Stone is a project in NW Calgary with total sales revenue of $40 million. Phase 1 (88 units) is 100% complete and Phase 2 (90 units) finished closings by March 2015.

2. Bordeaux in Hawkstone (Regina)

76 townhomes in North Regina with total sales revenue of $22 million has been completed.

3. Skyy Townhomes (Regina)

Sales of 116 units commenced in June 2010 with total sales revenue of $22 million and the project was completed January 2012.

4. Luxstone Landing (Calgary)

12 unit Townhome developments with a value of $3.3 million was completed in 2012.

5. Sage Townhomes (Regina)

The sales of 176 townhomes commenced in December 2009 with sales revenue of $35 million and the project was completed in early 2011.

6. Advantage West Inns & Suites (Fort McMurray)

This hotel was built from pre-fabricated modular units rather than standard stick-built construction. The 83‑room hotel opened in July 2004. After 3 ½ years of operation, Greenview Developments sold it in 2008 for $19,400,000 or $234,000 / room, a record price in Canada.

7. Spring Pastures (Australia)

Completed 72-acre rural residential project worth $10m in Mapleton, Queensland within 2 years.

8. Grotto Mountain Village (Canmore)

Grotto Mountain Village was a $15 million project, consisting of a 125-lot turn-key manufactured housing community on 24 acres, which won the mayors award for Urban Design, Community Neighbourhood Enhancement & Facility Construction in 1994.

EDUCATION/ TRAINING

· Masters of Business Administration – AGSM / University of Sydney, 1998

· Graduate Diploma in Business Administration – AGSM / University of Sydney, 1997

· Bachelor of Science in Engineering – University of Calgary, 1992

WORK EXPERIENCE

SENIOR PROJECT MANAGER | WESTCORP – LONDON AT HERITAGE STATION – CALGARY, AB 2006 - 2008

Responsible for the construction of four 20+ story residential towers, 80,000 ft2 of commercial space, an 1,800-car parkade, and a pedestrian bridge connecting the development with light rail rapid transit. The residential towers include high line amenities and ample common facilities. Started this project from the early concept stages and set up a construction and management team, operational and procurement processes, budgets, and construction schedules. Oversaw all aspects of this large construction project.

PROJECT MANAGER | POINTE OF VIEW DEVELOPMENTS – CALGARY, AB 2005 - 2006

Tendered and negotiated all scopes of work, monitor construction milestones, budgets and costs.

Planned and designed new projects, customer walkthroughs and completion of deficiencies.

SENIOR EXECUTIVE | KPMG NATIONAL REAL ESTATE SERVICES – SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA 2001 - 2002

· Provided strategic property advice and off-balance sheet finance solutions to developers, financiers, government agencies and major blue-chip corporations

· Feasibility and divestment advice on HIH Insurance. HIH, and its 18 controlled entities, was Australia’s largest insurance company and it went into liquidation in March 2001. I acted on behalf of the provisional liquidator to maximize the proceeds from the sale of the properties.

· Development and feasibility advice for the redevelopment of Bathurst Mount Panorama Precinct, one of the top three motor racing circuits in the world. Bathurst 1000 is the Australian equivalent of Indy 500 in terms of motor racing and the event is broadcast to over 400 million homes in 54 countries. The Panorama Precinct is a multi-use tourism destination featuring restaurants, tourist attractions, cultural facilities, sporting and recreational facilities such as motocross, educational facilities, residential properties and nature park areas.

· Facilitated the revision and expansion of Commonwealth Property Principles document for the Australian Department of Finance. This provided an appropriate discount rate and methodology for real estate decisions.

· Reviewed feasibility and business case for NRMA (affiliated with the Canadian Automobile Association and American Automobile Association), to divest their existing operations in multiple locations and consolidate their staff within a new 38,000 m2 ‘Village’ campus style development.

· Prepared a feasibility and highest and best use study for ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) Television’s Gore Hill site as well as planning and offering council advice.

DEVELOPMENT MANAGER |APP PROPERTY PTY LIMITED – SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA 2000 - 2001

· We had to seek out, assess and convert development opportunities. This role encompassed feasibility analyses, negotiation and deal closures with clients, sourcing and arranging property finance.

· Development Representative for C+BUS (an RRSP company with over 320,000 members) in its $1.5B, residential development of over 1,600 lots, units and townhouses, called Breakfast Point. This role included feasibility assessment, project management, risk management, planning, sales and marketing advice

· Managed feasibility analysis for a new World Headquarters for TAB Ltd. (Australia’s largest gambling firm)

· Provided Property and E-commerce advice for Australia Post (equivalent of Canada Post)

· Business plan and property advice for a 100,000m2 regional business park on the Central Coast (north of Sydney) for Festival Development Corporation (a division of the Department of Urban Affairs and Planning)

· Venue Management analysis for the Sydney Cove Passenger Terminal Upgrade Circular Quay. (The Sydney Cove Overseas Passenger Terminal receives around 50 cruise ships a year as well as housing numerous restaurants and events).

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ofthelibertine · 3 years

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did [DIAMOND BELLEVUE] chase one of seven sins seven miles down the coast? originally from [NEW YORK CITY], the [22] [CISFEMALE] is a [SUPERMODEL] and has lived in the key for [THREE MONTHS]. [SHE] is suppose to call [THE MEADOWS] home, but there is always temptation lurking between the streets and the ocean that keeps [HER] from heading back. sinners and saints take many forms, but they look like [ZENDAYA] and on their way to make decisions, good and bad, they always seem to sway to the beat of [DRUNK WITH MY FRIENDS BY ASHNIKKO].

Trigger Warnings: eating disorder, bipolar disorder, NAS, drugs, alcohol, underage drugs, underage drinking

- B A S I C -

Full Name: Diamond Nathalia Bellevue Nickname(s): Dime, Dia, Di Age: 22 Occupation: Supermodel, but she also runs her own online beauty and fashion shop. Birthday: December 15th Aries: Sagittarius Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Neighborhood: The Meadows

- F A M I L Y -

Father: Winston Bellevue Mother: Betty Bellevue Siblings: Four older siblings (all adopted) Children: She has a 13-month-old son, named Dante.

- B I O -

She is originally from New York City. Diamond was born to a teenaged drug addict and was willingly put up for adoption the second she was born, only to be adopted a few short months later by Winston and Betty Bellevue - an older couple in their late forties who hailed from London, England. They had just moved to the Upper Eastside of Manhattan a few years prior, along with their four other adopted children. Her father was one of the top cosmetic surgeons in the state of New York, while her mother was a leading patent attorney, so they were often kept quite busy with work. Despite that, their work didn't stop them from being really attentive parents to their children. Dime had a great relationship with her parents, and though her siblings were significantly older than she was, she was still quite close to each and every one of them. That said, there were still some clashing personalities and views of opinion from time to time among the family - they weren't perfect, after all - but overall, everyone got along fine. There weren't any disputes that didn't go unforgiven for too long, which was nice. She had a very serious habit of shutting out her family, or even withdrawing completely for a while, as her work or mental state allowed it to happen...but her family eventually reeled her back in and she was grateful to them for that. They really were her rock, at the end of the day.

Despite being adopted by a wonderful and loving family, that did not erase the damage done to her by her addict birth mother. Dime was born with NAS (Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome) and this is believed to be the leading cause of her overall mental illness and eating disorder and later on, her own drug addiction later down the road.

When she was just toddler she was diagnosed with ARFID - she'd always had an aversion to food, starting from infancy and that never changed as she grew older. It worried her parents, because there were many times when she just wouldn't eat anything for days - refused all kinds of food - and it would end up with her in the hospital, being force-fed through a feeding tube, lest she starve. Her childhood diagnosis of ARFID has since turned into a full blown and rather serious eating disorder that she is still constantly battling to this day. When she turned seven, she was officially diagnosed with Bipolar, which she had apparently inherited from her birth mother also. The diagnose did not come as a huge shock to her family, since Diamond had always had very extreme mood swings - one minute she would be incredibly social and rambunctiously hyper, talking people's ears off and the next she would go very quiet and closed off and sink into a very noticeable depression. So by the time she was in middle school, she was taking meds and seeing therapists frequently, which was...tiresome to say the least. Despite her rather poor mental and physical health, Diamond still led a pretty normal life in Manhattan. She was a major hobbyist, even as a child, and so she was always bouncing from one activity to another, easily bored with things once she'd mastered it. She was always wanting to try and learn new things. Dime took up dancing, vocal lessons, piano and violin lessons, and dabbled in painting, scrapbooking, journaling, photography, needlework...you name it, she's very likely tried it at least once. Her interests in dancing, painting and photography were still strong, especially dancing. At the age of five her parents put her in her first dance class and she fell in love with it. She learned ballet first but quickly grew to love contemporary hip-hop the best and delved right into it. She still danced today, and could have gotten a full ride to Juilliard if it weren't for her modeling career taking off as quickly as it had. She was first introduced to modeling at the age of nine, when she was scouted while in the mall with her mother, and after getting both her parents' consent, Dime was allowed to be signed on to the agency and soon she began work as a child model. Child modeling soon turned into full-time as soon as she turned sixteen and by the age of nineteen she was at the top of her stardom. With her parents’ naively trusting that she would be well looked after, Diamond moved out of her parents’ home at sixteen, once she began making really good money off her modeling, and into an apartment with several other young models - five others, to be precise. So it was crowded, with it being only a three bedroom place, but they managed. The apartment building was full of other models who lived in various apartments, women and men alike, and soon these people because her ‘crowd’.

They partied together, slept together and fasted together. Fights were also not an uncommon occurrence among the models, since the industry was known to be quite competitive and brutally cutthroat. Within her first year of living with the other models, she became heavily addicted to narcotics and alcohol - it was ridiculously easy for her to get addicted, too, since she was predisposed to it from her birth. Sadly, in her new social circle, drugs and alcohol ran rampant at parties, even to the underaged.

It didn’t take long before she stopped taking her meds altogether and stopped going to therapy sessions, and instead Diamond submersed herself deep into her new life. Outside of modeling, when she wasn’t working, she often spent her nights out with her fellow models - partying, drinking, doing drugs and having a lot of fun and a lot of sex and she grew further and further away from her family. A family that she still loved with all of her being but whom she rarely saw anymore. She let the lifestyle pretty much consume her life, to the point where her world became a permanent sort of blur; she was rarely sober. Just shy of turning 20, Diamond met an older man named Ivan, who worked as an up and coming actor. He lived in Los Angeles but had been in New York shooting a film. The two had ended up bumping into each other at a party and had hit it off and began dating shortly thereafter. It would prove to be a very short-lived relationship - lasting only a few months, just long enough for Ivan's film to finish and for Diamond to fall pregnant. Unsurprisingly, Ivan flipped the hell out when she told him the news and he immediately fled back to California with his tail between his legs, wanting nothing to do with the baby. Deep down, Diamond couldn't really blame him - his career was just getting off the ground, same as hers and becoming a parent was a total derailment of his plans. As a young working woman herself, Diamond understood that...but she was no less pleased about it. After four years of living on her own, away from her parents, Diamond returns home - not really knowing what else to do, now that she was knocked up. Thankfully, her family welcomed her back with open arms. No one was anymore thrilled with the news of her pregnancy than she or Ivan were, especially given her obvious addiction to drugs, but they were far more supportive with her decision to keep the baby. However, her parents had insisted that she go to rehab and get clean and get back on her meds, first - for the sake of both her and their unborn grandchild - and though she initially fought them on it, Dime had agreed to go in the end. She ended up spending three months in rehab, getting clean and sober and getting back onto her meds and starting up therapy once again. It was an arduous process, but one she wouldn’t regret. When she welcomed her son, Dante - with a clear mind and a heart filled with nothing but love for the infant boy that she cradled in her arms - she’d felt immense relief that she had listened and had gone through the program. A year later and still clean and living with her parents in Upper Eastside Manhattan, while raising her son and still working full-time as a pretty well known supermodel, Dime made the rash decision to buy a beach house down in Key West, Florida. For her, her son and her family when they needed a place away from hustle and bustle of the city. She loved New York City, it was her home and where she worked, but she didn't want to raise her son there, at least not solely. Their Manhattan residence would always be there as their primary home, but a vacation house in the Keys sounded rather nice.

- W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S -

OLDEST (ADOPTED) SIBLINGS - She is the youngest of five, and all of the Bellevue children are adopted so ANY ethnicity will work. (age ranges: 26-40)

BEST FRIEND(S)

Casual Friend(s)

Bad Influences

CLUB / BAR HOPPING BUDDIES - people she can rely on to always be up for going out drinking / dancing with

DANCING OR WORKOUT BUDDIES - She loves to go dancing (she’s a trained dancer) and working out, either at the gym or going on hikes and long walks, so it would be fun to have someone she can go with.

Fellow Models that she’s possibly worked with in the past.

PHOTOGRAPHERS

Rivals / Enemies / Frenemies

Neighbors of Silverwood Terrace

Babysitter / Nanny / Daycare - for Dante

LOVE INTERESTS AND / FLINGS & ONE-NIGHTERS - She’s got a thing for older men, so it would be fun to explore that a bit, in either a serious or casual fashion.

#sevenmiles.intro #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw eating disorder #diamond:intro #like this post if you want to plot

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nortonclarissa · 3 years

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doomedandstoned · 3 years

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Colin MacGregor: A Portrait

The cover artist for Doomed & Stoned in Scotland shares his craft and journey.

Last month, Doomed & Stoned revealed its latest survey of the heavy underground by zeroing in on the Scotland rock and metal underground, with our usual anchor to doom metal and stoner rock, but showcasing several genre blenders to boot.

We assembled an enthusiastic team of musicians, artists, and local media types to help us vet each of the submissions so we had the most authentic picture of the Scottish scene's character, as well as a listening experience of the utmost excellence.

Doomed & Stoned in Scotland by Doomed & Stoned

We're thankful to each of the bands who participated, and especially grateful for the enthusiastic participation of Colin MacGregor, whose striking dark, rich colors on canvas of an ancient druid captured the spirit of the project so succinctly, and inspired many a casual peruser to give the 40-band compilation a good and thorough hearing.

Following is a virtual gallery of his work, with commentary by Mr. MacGregor himself, from Colin MacGregor Maker Art. (Editor)

SELF PORTRAIT IN RED (2009)

9x6” acrylic on board

This is pretty much how it all began.

I was living in a flat in the centre of Edinburgh with next to no furniture, no television, no internet connection (no landline!) or working radio, I had to think of a way to keep myself occupied in the evening when I wasn’t working. This is when I found a box of 20 small acrylic paint tubes I’d bought years before and never really used, along with about 5 paintbrushes of dubious quality.

Using a photo from my rather poor mobile phone at the time, I set about creating this painting on a piece of board that I had.

The colour comes basically through how I see people I meet, depending on circumstances. This is how most of my early paintings were executed.

THOMAS BLACKLOCK “THE BLIND POET” (2013)

20x16” acrylic on canvas

This one was painted for the then bar manager of a long-gone Edinburgh pub called The Blind Poet, and the portrait is of Thomas Blacklock, of the aforementioned moniker, who lived in Pear Tree House for most of his life and was an influence on both Sir Walter Scott and Robert Burns, despite losing his sight as a child through smallpox.

The painting itself I don’t have much recollection of as I’d had extensive knee surgery at the time and was on quite a number of strong painkillers, but safe to say this painting led me to my first paid commission, where I produced two more paintings for Pear Tree House, one of which is still on display in their basement bar.

This one and the largest of the three, of Andrew Usher II, are currently in storage, I believe, in the south side of Edinburgh.

MAGGIE (2014)

12x9” acrylic on canvas

This was painted for my friend who was moving from Edinburgh to Bremen. She wanted something to put in her new home and also something to mark our friendship so I painted this in about 3 days.

It’s also quite rare in my canon as it actually has a bit of background in it, usually my backgrounds are just solid black.

This colour was actually quite difficult to get right, and it was applied in very thin layers and built up gradually, which is why I think it has quite a diffused, soft image overall.

ARANCHA (2017)

12x9” acrylic on canvas

This one is of my girlfriend and is based on a photo I took of her whilst walking through a park in Amsterdam. The photo itself was quite blurry as I took it on the fly whilst walking, but her face ended up on the whole in focus so I thought I could get something out of it.

There is a second version of this painting which is done in very pale pink and white paint, which was a bit of an experiment, but I kind of liked the challenge of doing something different

DAVID BOWIE (2016)

12x9” acrylic on canvas

This was painted within two weeks of the announcement of his death. I’d painted a few musicians before this one but they were all plain black and white, whereas this one actually had colour in the eyes, something a bit different to my usual stuff.

It was also the first painting I’d done by painting the canvas black first and drawing the basic shape on in chalk, something I’ve only done again once, and that was the recent Druid painting.

FRANK ZAPPA (2019)

12x9” acrylic on canvas

As mentioned above, this was actually started in 2016 and sat in various states of… started-ness, for around 3 years.

The painting actually spent most of its life as a scribbly mess of marker pen and gun-metal grey paint, and was almost scrapped entirely until I reassessed it in October 2019 and decided to attempt to salvage it, which I’m glad I did really as it’s been used on my business cards and as the “face” of the exhibition it was included in!

LEMMY (2019)

12x9” acrylic on canvas

I actually started this one, along with Frank Zappa, back in 2016 but the pair of them languished in various states of unfinishedness for a long, long time due to a variety of circumstances.

I eventually got them both back out of storage and managed to find the focus to finish them both in time for a week-long exhibition in Bannerman’s Bar, Edinburgh, which also featured Wraith, Cronos, Ozzy Osbourne, Chris Cornell, Nick Cave, David Bowie, Mark E. Smith, the aforementioned Frank Zappa and a rendition of the Xenomorph from the Alien movie franchise. This exhibition coincided with a Bismuth gig which had been organised by Bailey Junior, who was instrumental in dragging me out my block and getting these completed.

CRONOS (2019)

15x11” acrylic on canvas

Bailey Junior approached me with the idea of producing a poster for an upcoming gig he’d organised with a heavy doom band from England called Bismuth, expecting a fairly quick Photoshop effort.

I hadn’t painted in a while maybe a year or two, having suffered a drop in confidence and not being able to find the time or motivation, but I’d long wanted to create a poster which was almost entirely in paint, rather than digital text over the top, so this proved to be the spark needed to push myself into painting again.

Loosely based on the Ancient Greek myth of Cronos and partially based on “Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan'' by Ilya Repin (1885) it took two or three evenings to complete. The text for the poster was hand painted on separate canvases and then put together using Photoshop to give the impression it was a completely painted poster. The only thing not painted was the Scapegoat.tv logo which was added later, just before the gig took place.

OZZY OSBOURNE (2019)

12x9” acrylic on canvas

This one was really, really quick. Probably about 2 ½ hours from start to finish, maybe 3 at a push. Painted roughly about 7 days before I was due to open my first exhibition at Bannerman’s Bar, it was a last-minute decision, but turned out really great.

The acrylics were almost used like watercolors here, being as there were large light areas and deep, deep blacks.

I’m especially proud of the mouth area, it really has an almost 3D effect, something I rarely managed to get right.

WRAITH (2019)

16x12” acrylic on canvas

This was the second collaboration with Bailly and Scapegoat.tv after the Bismuth gig. This was designed for Japanese band Friendship but sadly due to the rapid spread of COVID-19 the gig was eventually cancelled.

The painting itself was based on a number of different sources for reference for cloth, lighting and the hand gesture. I’m not actually that much of a fan of painting hands to be perfectly honest.

The painting itself is currently still in Bannerman’s Bar. We were planning to hold another exhibition for all the paintings in the Bismuth gig exhibition again, but the day after putting them all up Lockdown began and the pub had to close, so I’ve not seen any of the exhibition paintings in person in about a year now.

Hopefully things will change soon.

MIKEY LAWLESS (2020)

12x9” acrylic on canvas

This one was painted in the first week of January 2020 for Mikey’s mother after Mikey himself sadly passed away from cancer just days after the new year began.

I think it took me roughly about 11-12 hours from start to finish and ended up being the only painting I completed that year, despite the coronavirus lockdown and other things happening.

DRUID (2021)

16x16” acrylic on canvas

And so it brings us to this one, again it took a nudge from Bailey to get me kick-started enough to unbox the paints again, and it took a bit of time to get started.

I’m not going to lie, after over a year of being nowhere near a paintbrush and canvas I was nervous and unsure if I could even do it, but once the canvas was primed and the blue paint started drawing out the shapes it started to come together.

It took about 4-5 days, give or take, spaced over a number of evenings, to complete and use references from a number of different sources.

The blue colour was chosen as a representation of Scotland in general, trying to capture the colour of the Saltire, but also evoke moonlight.

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ikevampeventarchive · 5 years

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[Translation] IkeVamp Drama CD ~ Napoleon Bonaparte Ver.

This took a very long time to finish but here it is! Napoleon’s Drama CD translation!! We had originally intended to release these every 200 followers, so the other CD translations will be posted as we get them done.

For those who are unable to buy the physical CD, Cybird has also released the CD as a Story Set in-game as well, along with a stuffed Napoleon avatar accessory.

Set Sale Info | Napoleon CD Preview

[This is an unofficial work based on fan-translation. Copyright belongs to Cybird.]

Prologue ~ Napoleon Bonaparte ~

0:10 You want to know my name? It’s Napoleon. Napoleon Bonaparte. What? ‘Are you that Napoleon Bonaparte’, you’re asking? I don’t know who you’re talking about, but if you’re referring to the French revolutionary general, then that’s me.

0:38 Ah, you’re right. If I were truly that soldier from the French Revolution, then there’s no way that I could’ve lived, un-aging, till this era.

The things I’m about to discuss, do you swear to keep them confidential? Hm. Good answer.

1:04 First, within this mansion located deep in the woods, 12 men are living here. And with each of them, there is one thing they all have in common.

That is, they — these, great men who have all left their marks upon history — have all exchanged a contract with the master of this mansion, le Comte de Saint-Germain, and revived into this world.

1:34 The contents of the contract… that they would become creatures that selfishly live on the blood of others called Vampires. In short, that means that the residents of this mansion are all vampires.

1:52 ‘Why did they come back to life’, you ask...? That’s because, all of them still have things left undone.

For example… Vincent. Yes, that famous painter, Vincent van Gogh — his reason was that he wanted to create more paintings. And the physicist, Isaac Newton, because he wanted to continue his research somewhere peaceful and quiet. They all have their own reasons for being here.

2:28 …. My reason for coming back? My bad. Earlier, I said that all the residents here had made a contract with le Comte, but there is one singular exception.

I am the only one who has not exchanged a contract with le Comte, and I also have no reason for being at this mansion. Not to mention, once my life had passed, I had no regrets or lingering attachments to this world.

2:56 One day, I just suddenly found myself here.

Le Comte seems to think that it was because the world regretted the loss of Napoleon Bonaparte, but I don’t think that’s the case.

…. I think that — for the sake of meeting the one person that I will love, I had returned to life… that is what I think.

3:25 One day, that person suddenly came from the door that connected to the future, and for only one month until the door opened again, came to reside at this mansion.

Because of the times we spent together, the times we clashed and the times we smiled together — with this person who possessed such a straightforward strength and pure kindness, before I knew it, I had fallen hopelessly in love with them.

4:01 Throwing away their prior life in the future and having chosen to stay here, this person is more important to me than anything in the world… and right now, they are my precious lover.

…. This is the story of a certain day in our life.

—

An Especially Gentle Morning

0:00 Soft breathing as birds chirp in the background.

0:20 Five more… minutes…ngh.... Sheets rustle. — What is it…? Besides that, you need to come… closer. He pulls you to him.

0:53 Hm… he gives you a quick kiss. Hm…? Ah, sorry. Did I… accidentally do it again? ‘You don’t even need to guess’... heh, you don’t have to flush so hard, you know.

It’s just my bad morning habit. But well, since it’s only you, it’s fine, isn't it? So from now on, you should get used to it.

1:40 And anyways… last night, we did things more embarrassing than just this. Though I do remember last night I was the one getting kissed….

What, did you forget? … Haha, you’re honestly so terrible at lying. It’s adorable.

…. Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing.

2:18 Ah… as always, your body is so warm and soft. If I just stay here and hug you tight like this, it feels like I could just fall right back to sleep......

2:40 Yawning. Huh, it’s already this late in the day? Ah, you’re already awake? There’s no helping it, I guess. In exchange, let’s do it just like the first time we woke up. Alright? He kisses you.

3:11 Heh, good morning.

Ah, come to speak of it, I had a really amazing dream last night. It was a dream where you were always by my side, grinning in that carefree way you always do. And then when I woke up and your face was the first thing I saw — I was really happy.

3:44 Are you getting shy on me? Hey, don’t curl up and hide your face in the sheets! If you act so cutely… I won’t be able to help myself from jumping on you again.

4:00 Hmph… ha…. He kisses you again. Heh, it was a joke, so don’t get so flustered! Ah, but wanting to jump on you was real though.

4:21 Okay, since I woke up especially early today, and it’s rare that we’re able to spend a languid day like this together, should we head out?

…. Then come, let’s get ready.

—

An Especially Glittering Beach Date

0:00 The sound of lapping waves in the background.

0:05 It’s nice that the weather today’s sunny and clear. You mentioned before that you’ve always wanted to go to the beach, right? So I thought that I absolutely had to take you someday.

… What? Why are you so surprised? There’s no way I’d forget anything that you say.

0:27 But besides that, since we came all the way out here, let’s dip our feet even if we can’t swim.

Phew, it feels nice and cold. Everything looks pretty when the water’s calm. C’mon, you too — hurry up and get over here.

1:00 Water splashing. Are you gonna take off your sandals? If so then I’ll do it for you. It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Or is it that you don’t want me to?

1:22 Haha, you’re so easy to read. Okay, okay, I got it, I’ll take it off properly.

Yeah, brace your hand on my shoulder like that… raise one of your legs… heh, I’m not tickling you, nunuche; if you laugh that hard you’ll fall over.

1:52 …. And, we’re good. You put your feet back into the water and wade around.

See? The cold water feels good. Now that we’re here, let’s walk along the water’s edge for a bit. The two of you begin walking. Be careful not to get your feet trapped in the sand. Your foot sinks into the sand. Did you not listen to what I just said?

2:26 Guess it can’t be helped. Here, give me your hand. I’ll hold onto you so you won’t fall.

Your hand… it’s always so small and soft — sort of like a child’s, huh.

....I said it’s really cute.

2:58 At any rate, it really is calm and quiet here. Walking here with you, hand in hand, I feel at peace. It’s a bit strange how this makes it feel like those war days during the Revolution were things of the distant past.

3:24 Ahh, but at that time, I had thought that peaceful days like this would never return.

The deep blue of the expansive sea, the scent of salt in the breeze, and even the sound of bird cries, it feels like it’s been a long time since I’ve last felt these things.

…. Surely, it would’ve continued to exist like this, even if it was just me who didn’t notice them.

3:57 The happiness of these ordinary days too, is all because of you. Thank you. He kisses you.

4:12 Now then, we should head home before the sun sets. Besides, I want to hurry up and get you alone.

—

An Especially Sweet Shower Time

0:00 Grandfather clock tolls three times and gentle piano music starts playing.

0:12 Ah, it’s already this time? I guess we played too much today. When I’m with you, time passes in the blink of an eye — so fast that it makes me a bit worried. Hm?

…. Heh, no, it’s a good thing.

Whenever I’m with you, no amount of time will be enough? Something like that.

0:36 Besides that though, the two of us are covered in sand from the sea breeze. It’s probably a good idea to wash off in a shower before heading to our rooms. C’mon, let’s go.

0:55 ‘You can go first,’ you say…

But we’re going to get in together, right? Heh, what are you getting all embarrassed about — after all, I’ve already seen your body many times before. So…. He gets close to you. … I’ll rinse you off.

And anyways, I don’t want to let you go just yet.

1:22 Door opens. The faucet turns and water starts to pour down.

Hey, come closer. You’re covered by a towel so there’s no need to be embarrassed, you know.

Is the water too hot? … If it’s okay then that’s good.

1:49 Oi, it’s just rinsing, so move your hands. He moves closer. Or, can I just undress you just like this? … Haha, just kidding. Come, turn around. I’ll wash your back.

2:10 I was thinking about this earlier but… your nape… is really pretty, huh. It’s so delicate and unguarded… it makes me want to bite you…. He places a kiss on your neck.

2:30 You jump and back away. Heh, I just gave you a small kiss, you really don’t have to react to strongly. You’re seriously adorable.

You are… he kisses you… hah, what is it? Do you want me to touch you more?

Oi, if you give me that kind of look, I really won’t be able to stay calm. He kisses you again.

3:12 … Your lips… are soft, and warm. Open your mouth more…. I want to see your face when you lose your composure… you’re honestly so precious — I might not be able to go easy on you.

Ngh— ah, don’t fall down… cling to me tighter. Hmph… he kisses you again and again.

4:05 Heh… you’re really weak here, huh. I know that much, since I’ve touched you countless times before…

He sighs. This is bad — I’m gonna get dizzy. He turns off the shower.

4:32 Let’s go to my room… right now. I’m sorry but, I can’t hold myself back any longer.

—

An Especially Provocative Bloodsucking

0:00 Piano music plays.

0:08 Kissing. I wonder… why does even just kissing you feels good? Hah… more, I want more of you. Can I… touch you more?

0:40 … Whenever I embrace you, I lose any desire to let you go. You have no idea how much I always want you, do you? The only thing that I want… is always, and only, you. He kisses you again and again.

1:12 This is bad… if this keeps up, I won’t be able to control myself….

1:20 .... Oi, don’t tell me I can bite you so casually. If you’re so defenseless…. Sheets rustle.

What’s wrong? Suddenly moving like that — hm… getting a kiss from you is pretty rare.

‘I want you to take me, just like this’....

1:46 Hah… are you seriously okay with this? I’ll apologize in advance but, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be gentle.

…. Lower your blouse more and show me your neck. He bites you.

2:16 ‘I’ve been waiting for this’ — there’s no way you’ve been waiting for something like this? The one who let their guard down… is you. He bites you again.

2:36 Ah… seriously… why is it that your blood is this sweet? I’m a bit worried… that the other guys will try to take you away.

Does it hurt? … It feels good? Me too. It feels… endlessly good. So much so that I can’t have any blood besides yours.

3:14 Do you know what sort of face you’re making right now… ? A face that’s both adorable… and tantalizing. I want to claim you… even deeper.

Come closer. Surrender it all to me. Your body, your heart — even your destiny.

—

An Especially Gentle Good-Night

0:00 Piano music plays.

0:06 Sheets rustle. It’s already nighttime? A little longer and today will also come to an end, huh. What’s wrong, you can’t sleep?

‘It was fun,’ you say? …. Yeah, I agree. The time I spend with you always passes by in the blink of an eye.

But, when it turns to tomorrow, I will no longer be able to see the you of today. Isn’t it strange to think like that? Things that never change — there are no such things like that. So, I keep wanting to carve my existence, to leave some sort of proof with you.

1:02 So that once tomorrow comes — no even after that — forevermore, there is evidence that proves you are mine and mine alone. Because of that, I’m sorry. You’re too dear to me, and I was too rough. But also, you were seriously sexy, before.

1:33 It wasn’t just me though, you could barely stand it either, could you? Sheets rustling.

Hey, don’t turn around, now. Face me? Geez, now isn’t really the time to be embarrassed, you know.

1:56 Haha, okay, I got it. It’s fine if you want to stay like that. He scoots closer. But let me hug you like this.

2:08 Ah, come to think of it, tonight is a crescent moon. The night I met you… it was also this moon….

What? … You’re surprised that I remember the day we met? Of course. Even now, I can remember like it was yesterday.

2:40 Your figure when you came stumbling into the mansion through that entrance… I was definitely surprised. I couldn’t believe that someone other than a vampire had came through those doors.

Before those guys could find you, I had to save you somehow, I had to try and protect you somehow, was what I thought. I wonder why….

I felt that instinct so strongly in that moment.

3:16 When I met your eyes as you looked back, I remember that it was like my heart suddenly started racing. I was probably drawn to you from the first moment we met. How mysterious.

Even though we were born in different eras and different places, it feels like I’ve always been waiting for you.

3:45 To me, it seems like our meeting was not just mere chance, but clearly fate.

… If it means the same thing to you, I’d be pretty happy.

4:09 …. Heh, talking about this sort of thing is always embarrassing, huh. You turn over. What’s with that happy smile?

4:21 C’mon, it’s getting late so we should hurry and get to sleep. Here. Arm pillow.

Hah, if I keep patting your head like this… I’ll probably fall asleep just like that.

…. You’re filled with happiness? Yeah… me too. When we’re together, just like this, I’m at my happiest.

4:55 So, let’s stay like this for the rest of the night. Let me sleep until morning, with you in my arms.

Quietly. When I can feel your warmth like this… I feel at ease….

Good night… you too, rest well….

5:25 He kisses you, softly. I love you….. Now and forevermore, only you….

—

Ending ~ To The Especially Beloved You ~

0:00 More piano music.

0:05 Night. Inside my silent room, where only the sound of wind gently blowing can be heard. As I look at my precious lover, sleeping within my arms, I think — that I want to always protect this sleeping face, and that surely, I was born for the sake of meeting you.

0:36 If I said this out loud, I wonder if you’ll smile that flustered smile again?

The one I think of when a day is over and I close my eyes, the first one I want to see when I open them in the morning, is only you.

And me, who was living like a soldier — who lost many precious comrades to a grand ideal, who did many things that I cannot take back no matter how much I yearned to or how much I regretted them.

Therefore, not knowing why I was called to the mansion, nor why I alone continued to survive… I merely just passed my days at the mansion with that confusion.

1:35 And then, I met you.

If I think back on it, many things have happened since then. We laughed a lot, and went to many places, and even fought at times. Before I knew it, seeing your innocent smile would lighten the regrets and doubts that weighed on my shoulders.

2:05 And you told me that there are no wars in the future, but only peaceful days.

I can’t say for sure if what I did was the right thing to do, but because of you, I now know that those actions helped bring forth a peaceful world.

You said that I had saved you, but the one who was saved was actually me.

2:46 Since meeting you, I was able to take back something precious that I had forgotten. The brilliance of the morning, the deep blue of the sea, the color of flowers as well. With you, I was able to feel the world again.

3:09 To me, who knew nothing beyond battle, you taught me how to live again. It was only you.

I, who had nothing, you gave me something that I could once again yearn to protect.

Of course, there is no way I’ll be able to forget my old comrades. I will always shoulder their hearts and live on. In this way, I will continue to live with you in this world.

3:49 No matter what hardships we face, as long as it’s the two of us, I know we can overcome all of it. Even if one day you come to long for your old life, I want you to remember this.

No matter what happens… I am always by your side.

4:20 Through bitterness and through pain… I will carry those burdens with you.

That’s why — please stay by my side. I swear I will make you happy.

Thank you for appearing in front of me. I love you.

And for many years to come, I’ll be spending them by your side.

—

Cast Talk

Note: This section is part summary, part translation instead of a direct transcript like the past sections.

Hello, this is Napoleon’s VA, Nobunaga Shimazaki. Thank you everyone for listening to this CD.

It seems like there’s a topic theme this time for the cast talk. I’ll be going through them one at a time.

First off, my impressions for today. My impressions of the recording — wait but first of all, Napoleon, it’s been a long time since I’ve played him, so I was hit with this ‘as expected he’s this cool and charismatic, strong soldier character’ sort of feeling all over again during the recording.

Kind of like, ah how cool, he doesn’t seem like the type to be swayed easily — this kind of impression came to be when I was shopping at a convenience store.

And then I thought to myself that I had to try hard and act out such a cool character, so it became sort of like ‘wow Napoleon is such a cool guy! Uwah I’m gonna try my best, I have to try my best! Uwahh’ haha. That was the strong impression I had of him.

Finally today, I was able to show a cool Napoleon, so I’m really happy. Because of that, my mood is very fluffy and buoyant right now, haha.

Okay, the second one is, if I had an eternity like a vampire, what would I want to do?

Hmm well, I mean… would I really be the right fit for that, you know? It sounds a bit tiresome…. Of course, there are people suited to it, for example if you were Napoleon’s beloved person then being together forever would be nice, but… well —

Life is fun because it’s limited. It’s a similar sort of thing to how because work is busy, the breaks become more fun, I think. If all I had was time… I think it would become pretty draining —

But well, if I had an eternity, if I could do anything, then I think I would try to create a world? Or a star, or something like that.

I can’t make, like, a real brand name or anything, but maybe something like creating a world as I like it, sort of like playing God. I think if I can do that then that would be enough fun for me, like there would be plenty of things to do with just that — things that I can and can’t do with my own creations and such. Yup, something like that.

Third is, like the revolutionary Napoleon, is there anything you want to revolutionize?

Something I want to revolutionize?! Is there anything like that? Something I want to revolutionize…. Uhhhhh, recently I’ve been thinking about how it would nice if things could be more comfortable for me, but there’s nothing that I’d say I want to revolutionize.

I don’t think there’s much of a revolutionary in me? When doing something or starting something determination would overflow and I’d be like “I’ll accomplish this and this” or “I’ll write this” or “I’ll kill this” and the like. But to revolutionize something I think it would have to start from some dissatisfaction with the current era and the desire to change, but I don’t really think I have anything I’m dissatisfied with about the current era?

How to say it, there are things I wonder about like how something would become, or how something would end up, or how it would be nice if things turned out this way, and such, but would you call that the heart of a revolutionary?

Of course I have dreams and aspirations and this and that that I want to do in the future, but I don’t think there’s anything that I want to change. Mmhm… taking is easy is the best way.

Last of all, to everyone who’s listening to this, please talk about Napoleon’s charming points.

Well, I mean, everyone who had gone out and bought this volume are people who love Napoleon, right? Thank you very much!

But, it’s really hard to get CDs nowadays, right? Times are a bit rough financially lately, right?? Seriously, thank you very much!!

As such, all the listeners probably surely know Napoleon’s charm better than I do, ahaha. But in my opinion, even though he’s a smart person, my favorite thing is that he’s a very steady, cool unwavering person. That sort of stead person, and then once he falls in love, you’re able to see those wavering eyes. It’s not particularly a gap (moe) per se, but it may be pretty charming — the difference between his usual coolness and his heart, and because of that, it’s a humanizing aspect. It makes you think that he’s a very captivating person, is what I think.

Hm, but when you compare the historical Napoleon to the game, you can gain various ideas that take flight, and then you study history and it’s like killing two birds, three birds, six birds with one stone. IkeVamp as a game is a bit different, right? So when you play the game and compare them, there are things like “oh he killed people!!”, and in this way, I hope you continue to enjoy IkeVamp!

This has been Nobunaga Shimazaki! Thank you very much!!

—

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #napoleon #drama cd #translation #200 followers celebration #advancing the napoleon agenda #sorry for the delay!#september 2019 #jp ikevamp

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prorevenge · 5 years

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Bully Landlord gets it in the end.

My first husband was a not very nice man. For 6 years I was belittled and basically a baby-factory for him. He was a fantastic father, but a horrible husband. After he finally got his 'heirs' I was then treated even worse until I finally 'woke up' and decided to leave his ass.

This revenge story is NOT about him. I just had to set the scene.

I moved out from the house, taking just my clothes, the car (4K value, no more) and the computer. I had nothing, stayed at a GF for a couple weeks before I was able to line up a crappy town-house with roommates. I had nothing, and my bed was a cat-pee-smelling free couch I was able to score. I wound up having 3-4 jobs with one of them being full-time and once a week I would not even be able to sleep between jobs.

Now, fast forward one year. My divorce was finalized and I had fulfilled my year's lease for the townhouse. By this time I was able to furnish the home and my bedroom and my kids' room when they would be with me for visitation.

The Scum-Bag Landlord (will just call him SBL) was a nice-ish landlord during the time of my tenancy and I was a good tenant, never being late with my rent. Although I had roommates, I was the sole name on the lease.

SBL would show up often, with some guise that he had to work on something like plumbing tests or whatever excuse he could come up with just so he could be all creepy and hang around trying to converse with me with mild sexual undertones that made me quite uneasy at times.

FINALLY the lease was fulfilled and I was now onto a month-to-month contract to which at that time I was ready to move out of this crappy townhouse, and found a great house in the mountains nearby and I was simply thrilled now that I got my feet on the ground and can afford a bit better than slum-living.

My Lease stated that I had to give one month's notice in order to move out. Unfortunately I was able to get the house I was to move into for the next month... only 3 weeks away.

I sent an email to SBL stating that I intend on moving out at the end of this month (in 3 weeks) and he can try to find another tenant. but I did state that IF he didn't find a tenant, I would still fulfill my legal obligation and pay next month's rent.

Within one week (2 weeks before I was move out) he emailed back and stated that was very generous of my offer but he was able to find a new tenant for the beginning of next month and I would be off the hook. He even tipped his hand by stating that he already collected a deposit from them.

Now, something happened within a couple days after that which was no fault of my own, nor my roommate's. The townhouse came with it's own appliances (fridge, oven etc) including a clothes washer and dryer on the main level. My roommate had put a load of laundry in and went to the living room to have a nap. He awoke to find that the washer had malfunctioned with the sensory switch which never stopped the water fill stage... and there was an inch of water in the kitchen and living room!!! He splashed through the water to turn off the washer and called me to come and help deal with this.

I was just getting off of work and I whipped home to assess the damage.

it. was. bad. There was standing water on top of the living room carpet and a good inch of water in the whole kitchen. I called SBL and told him the issue. By the time SBL showed up, I had already got most of the standing water out with the help of my roommate and friends that showed up with shop-vacs.

SBL didn't seem too upset, which was surprising for me and had an appliance repair man had come to look at the washer. The repairman even said "yep, here's the culprit" and showed how the dial would stick on the fill stage and wouldn't click over to the agitate stage. after replacing the dial and lubricating the whole deal, he left.

The next week was chaos as I was busy trying to pack and SBL had insurance guys in assessing and workers taking out the carpet and cutting 2 feet worth of the lower drywall of the whole main level.

The day of the move, though I was still supposed to be there for a couple more days, SBL had let himself in as movers were moving out my stuff with a camera going around taking pictures of everything. I honestly thought that it was for his insurance claims etc. I actually felt bad for SBL (I'm too nice) and told him that I would not ask for any of my deposit back, and he responded in front of the loading crew and my roommate "Thank you, that's very generous of you". We parted ways and I thought that was that.

I was wrong.

Two weeks into my new home location did SBL showed up on my doorstep with a summons to appear in arbitration because he was SUEING ME! WHAT???? on what grounds??? He stated it's all in this paperwork and handed me a manila envelope with 18 pages of everything he was charging me with. All including photos (now I know why he was going around taking pics). Nickle and diming me on everything from a bent Venetian blind (that was like that when I had moved in) and some scuffs on walls, etc etc. but then he ALSO wanted me to pay his insurance deductible and that following month's rent!!! He claimed that the tenants that he had lined up backed out at the last minute (claiming that they didn't think the place wouldn't be ready in time with the new drywall and paint and so on), so he still wanted me to pay that month's rent.

REALLY??

Fuck. This. Shit. I knew I was more than generous of giving him my whole deposit and then for him to come back and sue me for thousands?? He was not only claiming the damages caused by the flood, but improvements he needed to do that should never be or have been my responsibility in the first place. EVEN CRACKS in the living room wall that was from the building settling.... HOW SHOULD I BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THAT??? Even new lighting, faucets etc... All mainly on the accusation that I was negligent. I wasn't going to have that. I know is was a slummy townhouse complex and most of his tenants were just welfare cases, and maybe he could get away with this with others, but not me. No Way! I had just got out of a marriage that made me feel insignificant and had horrible self-esteem, but now I had my dignity and felt strong for the first time in a long time. No way was I going to let any more SHIT happen to me without my doing something about it.

I had 10 days before the date of my arbitration meeting.

I immediately got to work, first getting a signed deposition from the very repairman that had showed that day stating that the appliance was quite in need of maintenance work and the last time he had done ANY maintenance for him was almost 5 years before. From thoroughly reviewing my rental contract, and local laws, SBL is obligated to have all appliances maintained/services EVERY YEAR.

I had also talked to some of the other tenants and had heard that this wasn't the first time SBL had sued tenants after the fact. I hunted them down and got sworn statements from them also. Unfortunately for them, they didn't know what to do and mostly didn't show up at arbitration hence SBL winning by default. NO WAY I WAS NOT GOING TO LET HIM DO THIS TO ME.

I then drew up a rebuttal to each and every claim he had, including photos from the year+ that I had lived there,, printed out all my email correspondence and even convinced my ex roommate and one of the movers that heard my interaction with SBL about him stating how "generous" it was of me letting him keep my whole deposit (which was a significant amount) to come.

DAY OF ARBITRATION... I dressed up in my power-suit and with my ex-roommate and worker in tow, showed up at the meeting. Now, in Canada, arbitration is not held in a court room per se, but it still held AT the courthouse in a conference room with a judge. We had one hour with this judge. Since SBL was the plaintiff, he got to go first with his case. He spent over 40 minutes going over everything and I sat quietly until he finished.

Once he finished, I then hauled out the rebuttal in multiple copies, handed to the judge, to SBL and anyone else that wished to have one and I quickly went over each point. SBL was irate, and interrupted almost every second sentence I spoke. I would pause the moment he would start talking and say sweetly "I was quiet and polite during your time to present your case, I hope you grant me the same respect". SBL started to get red in the face, ESPECIALLY when I got to the deposition of the Maintenance worker for the appliance. I included with that the tenancy/landlord act sections pertaining to appliance maintenance and stated that this was the only record of maintenance that had occurred, and unless he can come up with more recent records from perhaps another company, it was over 5 years since anything had been looked at.

With my defense, I had also then countered that I would like my deposit back, and my day's pay from work since I had to take that day off to go to this meeting.

The judge then made his statement, and I will always remember this for the rest of my life. He stated that first, he was very impressed of my presentation and that I obviously have a good handle on things and can tell that my nature is of kindness and respect especially with photos of how I had the town house furnished and clean and pride in whatever home I would live in.

Bottom line.... Not only did I win my case, I wound up having SBL owing my over 80% of my deposit back, including interest. SBL's face was PRICELESS. The judge then proceeded to tell SBL that they will be reviewing again all his previous filings, and if there was enough evidence of harassment, he would be reported to the board of landlords and tenants. I don't really know if anything came out of that.

Now.... I walked away that day feeling on top of the world. Completely justified and he got a taste of his own medicine.

BUT... it didn't stop there. OH NO. Knowing that this guy has a history of suing tenants... I printed up my final results (and judge's signature) and gave a copy to each and every tenant in that complex. I wanted to warn everyone his practices and to keep notes, photos etc so that he couldn't do that to them.

But I didn't stop there... He still now owed ME money (he he) and I asked repeatedly for the payment. he never responded. He had until a certain day to pay me back my deposit, and on that day I had gone to his house (I looked up his residence under public records as he is a landlord and had to file under a certain address) and knocked on the door. He didn't answer, though I knew he was home. I rang the bell a few more times, and knocked loudly. he then turned his house alarm on, which at first startled me, but quickly turned to humor seeing how much of a pussy this bully turned out to be.

I then yelled out loud enough that I am not going anywhere. He yelled out, "get off my property or I will call the police!!!"

OK... no problem. I got off the property, but camped out on the front sidewalk. I had a fold-up chair, a cooler with water and sodas, a few sandwiches and all my paperwork with me. I was set to stay there forever. I then would tell anyone that would walk by (already there were some people there from the house alarm fiasco) about how I was a tenant and wrongfully sued me and that I have a claim against him and he now owes ME money. I let anyone look at the paperwork just to back up my claim.

The police DID SHOW UP! they first went to talk to SBL and he was claiming that I was harassing him, slandering him and wouldn't leave his property. I was on public property (sidewalk) and it isn't slander if it's true, of which I had all my court-signed paperwork to back me up. I wasn't disturbing the peace, I was simply and quietly seated outside his home and just talking to neighbors about his actions.

He was out YELLING that I need to leave, and I quietly stated that I would be happy to leave once I am paid that he was legally obligated to do by that date. I was not going to leave before I got money in my hand, and I was more than willing to stay there and tell anyone that would listen to me why I was camped out. The police stated I wasn't doing anything wrong, that it's public property, I wasn't disturbing the peace and it isn't slander if it's true.

Finally after an hour of SBL yelling on his front lawn at the policemen (and at me, of course) did his wife come out with money. She handed the money to the police, of which in turn handed the money to me, and signed off documenting final payment was complete. I sweetly smiled, thanked the police deeply, and went home.

I have no idea what ever happened to SBL, and if he is still pulling shit like this on others, but I hope that I helped put the fear of god in him that he just can't screw with people because eventually it will come and bite him in the ass.

Sometimes, nice guys (or girls) finish last, but with patience ... they finish with a WIN!

(source) story by (/u/Elena_La_Loca)

#prorevenge #by /u/Elena_La_Loca #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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designsfromtime · 5 years

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When It All Goes South: A Designer’s Nightmare

Back in 2013 a client named “Nicole” contacted me. She had been searching for a designer to work with for several years and wasn’t satisfied with the “talent” she had found thus far. She stumbled across my website, found my contact information and gave me a call. She had a stash of fabrics and some basic ideas and we spoke on the phone at length . . . A conversation that lasted over an hour.

I had been a seamstress since I was a pre-teen. My grandmother began teaching me to sew when I was a child and I sort of “fell” into historical costuming by happenstance in 2001. That happenstance being my 16 year old daughter wanting to join RenFaire with her friends and had to have a parent join with her. I used my experience as a seamstress and began dabbling in historical clothing. I made our garb and it was “passable” - barely! LOL Of course I’m judging myself by my current abilities, but hey...we all start somewhere.

Fast forward to 2012. My husband had died from on-the-job injuries sustained in his position as a law enforcement officer and the kids and I relocated to Bonney Lake, Washington. My husband’s death provided me and my adult kids with a generous retirement, so when we relocated to Washington State I was fortunate enough to retire as a Medical Transcriptionist and pursue my costuming full-time.

Enter “Nicole.”

One of my biggest faults, if you can classify it as a fault, is that I am generous. Generous with my time. Generous with my talent. Generous with my friendship. And generous with my trust. This generosity gets me in trouble. It has for my entire adult life, and more especially since taking my talents public and opening my website and Etsy store. But it also has affected my personal relationships. I am a Leo. Astrology likes to paint us Leos with broad strokes. So, for the record, I’m not the attention seeking, spotlight loving, glory hog people may associate with being Leo, but I have a big old fluffy lion heart and I’m driven.

Another factoid: I’m very intuitive. I won’t go into the “I see dead people” stories or the dreams that come true. That’s a story for another time. I’ve used that intuition as a designer. In most cases I can tune in with my clients and get a real ‘read’ on their tastes and have pulled off some pretty awesome costumes as a result. It’s why I like it when a client gives me the freedom to follow my creative inspiration rather than constrict me to follow “their” vision to the exclusion of my creative input. That’s the one time I will own my Leo-ness. I work best when I can take the lead as a designer, but I’m VERY sensitive to my client’s input. So my process is usually a 60/40 mix.

After that long conversation, I didn’t hear back from Nicole until 2016. She’d relocated from New York to California and was now “ready” to proceed with a gown commission. Great! She sent me a huge box of fabrics and trims she had been collecting for over a decade. She had some great fabrics that I was itching to get my hands on, but she wanted her first commission to be made out of a blue “patterned” upholstery weight velvet she had in her stash. Not my recommendation to use upholstery weight velvet, but I will make do with what my client’s have - unless it’s simply too hideous or won’t drape properly.

I sketched out the gown she communicated she wanted, and pitched my ideas for embroidery, sleeves, and such. I took her deposit and when her reservation rolled around I began working. As I was in the process of embroidering the gown pieces, she called and pitched me the idea of me using a reproduction of an Elizabethan embroidery pattern used on waistcoats of that time period. She wanted her forepart “completely” filled with that pattern. I gulped, and agreed - even though I knew it would be extremely time consuming. Now, mind you - - If I charged FULL PRICE for such a piece, using the standard fee scale for commercial embroiderers, it would have cost in the range of about $1000 or more! But, I was more concerned with making “her” vision a reality and enjoying the creative process and I DIDN’T CHARGE HER extra! (Oh my god, what the hell was I thinking?). There’s that generosity getting in my own way again.

We had continued to communicate over a period of time even after her commission was complete because I “thought” we had built a friendship. We had quite a lot in common - aside from our love of costume and RenFaire. What I was to learn later (at the beginning of 2019) was that she was my friend so long as she was getting something out of that relationship. Stay tuned, I’ll get there in the telling of this story.

So, I designed the blue gown you see in the link at the end of this page and shipped it to her. She was ecstatic with my work and immediately we began planning a “peacock” themed gown. As part of my process as a designer, I generally ask my clients to send me three pictures of their favorite gowns they’ve seen. There were no pictures she could send me for “reference” as this was her dream gown. I sketched out a gown, incorporating designs from a picture I had seen, and she LOVED IT. The only issue was the embroidery pattern. Did she want this Elizabethan style gown to be more “literal” in theme with peacock feathers and a full peacock, or just “touches” of a peacock theme such as the color of the gown. So, I began to scour the internet and vendors for anything to do with Peacocks.

While I strive for authenticity in the cut of my design, my challenge as a designer is to meld the "historical purist" with my client's vision or "fantasy" and produce beautiful and functional ensembles that hit as many points as possible; and offer the public a vignette into each respective time period. While I adore projects that strive for more historical accuracy, what's more important to me as a designer is pleasing my clients, working within their budget, and encouraging their love and knowledge of clothing from bygone eras. So, while peacocks were not a historical theme for the 16th Century, I was game.

The gown went through several iterations in terms of embroidery patterns. Whenever I thought we had nailed down a concept (for the embroidery), she would call me or send me pictures and pitch more ideas for this gown. I’m always open to my client’s input, but the process just kept going...and going...until finally we had reached the date of her reservation! She hadn’t even purchased her fabrics yet! The fabrics were actually the easiest part of the process. We knew what colors we were to use but she hadn’t purchased the yardage we had discussed. With time running short, and the fact that I generally have a very full commission schedule on my calendar, I rescheduled her peacock gown to my next available opening and pitched the idea of using some of her other fabrics and use the time I had to design something else. (See the Red Pomegranate Gown in the link at the bottom of the page). That brought us to about April of 2018.

Over the ensuing months, we continued to discuss the peacock themed gown and she could not settle on an embroidery pattern. I kept sketching, and keeping notes on her feedback, and searching for patterns that might work. She finally came to the decision that she didn’t want it to be too “literal” with peacock feathers AND a peacock portrait - which she had decided that’s what she wanted (a portrait). So, I began researching and sent her pattern after pattern after pattern. She finally came to a decision, and I breathed a sigh of relief. We had discussed this damn gown ad nauseam and I was ready to just get on with actually building it rather than to talk it to death.

With a final concept in mind - or so I thought - she went to the website where I purchase my silks and attempted to order the fabric in the colors we had previously chosen. However, the fabric we were planning to use was now out of stock. So, the gown was postponed ONCE AGAIN.

It was going to be some time before the fabric we had chosen would be in stock again, and because of that delay I had to give her reservation away to another client. I mean, this IS my bread and butter! And I had broken a hard and fast rule and hadn’t asked her for a deposit. How the hell could I when she kept changing the damn gown! I charge by the pattern piece - Every piece I physically sew together, but the embroidery is factored into my estimates. The intricacy of the embroidery would affect my fees, so I couldn’t really nail down an exact number - other than the basic estimate I had worked up months earlier.

In the meantime, she had more fabric waiting to be used and I had an concept I thought would be beautiful: pairing a pale gold and cream damask brocade with a blueish-lavender silk and embroidering it with blackberries. I had my digital artist digitize the patterns: realistic looking blackberry clusters with multicolored leaves and glass beads to create the actual berries. So, when her reservation date arrived ONCE AGAIN, I was all set to start the embroidery process. But wait! NOW, she decided at the last minute that she already had a gold colored gown she had purchased years ago, and she really wanted to revisit the peacock gown. So, once again, we were back to discussing embroidery.

She kept pitching me wild ideas such as a peacock head and body on the bodice stomacher with the tail extending into the forepart. Huh?? Is this an Elizabethan gown or a Charles Worth gown? I mean, come on! I’m good but that wasn’t an idea that would translate into an actual finished gown, at least not an Elizabethan style gown. So, following her EXPRESSED desire not to over do the peacock theme I found a pattern that was beautiful and suggested we use it on the stomacher of the bodice and a mirror image at the bottom of her forepart. I sketched up the concept, and found a beautiful filigree embroidery pattern for the skirt facings - a style SHE had suggested. She had previously expressed she didn’t want to over do the peacock theme by adding peacock feathers, but now, once again, she was changing her mind. Now she DID want peacock feathers on the forepart and sleeves. OK! We’re making some headway - so I thought.

She was in a car accident and suffered a head trauma. It wasn’t serious but it rang her bell pretty good but she had to have major dental work as a result, and then her son had to have surgery and she postponed the gown due to financial constraints.

When she was ready, we picked up where we left off a few months prior. With the main “peacock” for the bodice front chosen (or so I thought) I waited for her to send me her fabrics. I waited - and waited - and waited. Come to find out, the dye lot of the color she had chosen for the main color of her gown was MUCH different from the original swatch and she HATED the new color. So, now we were back to purchasing ALL NEW fabric swatches and deciding on what colors to use. FINALLY, after weeks of debate and more phone conversations, she decided on her colors. So, she purchased her fabric, and we were all set to proceed - so I thought.

It had been several months since we had discussed her final embroidery choices, so with her swatches and my sketch I created a design board showing all the concepts, colors, embroidery patterns, etc., that she had agreed to use. I then told her in order to proceed I would need her deposit. Now, keep in mind, I’d lost thousands of dollars already by giving her multiple reservations - turning away multiple commission requests in order to accommodate her. But she was my friend....right?

After receiving my design board she decided she did’t like the embroidery pattern that SHE HAD AGREED TO USE months earlier, and was now back to searching for a better peacock. I took a deep breath, and I drew on my professionalism, and said, “Ok. . . You tell me what you want to use.” She then sent me a drawing she had done years before - which she previously nixed because she had decided against peacock feathers and a peacock portrait! ARRRGHHHH! You feel my frustration yet?

During these two years my brother - my ONLY brother - fell ill. He was a renowned physician who was revolutionizing orthopedic medicine using stem cells to regrow cartilage and other ground breaking treatments that were changing lives. He traveled all over the world teaching, and treating patients, as well as keeping a full patient load in his Bellevue, Washington practice. He kept his diagnosis secret - even from me. Turns out, he had pancreatic cancer.

Approaching January 2019 he had lost so much weight he was flesh draped over skeleton. I knew he was sick. I knew it was serious. My intuition kept telling me it was pancreatic cancer, though he had not confirmed my suspicions. I’d watched our grandmother succumb to the same disease. But stubborn man that he was, and dedicated to healing people, he refused to accept his mortality. He suffered two years WITHOUT PAIN MEDS in order to be able to legally treat his patients. Can you imagine? He would writhe in pain, screaming while his daughter held his hand all night, then get up in the morning and treat patients - lying down in between appointments just to make it through the day. That was dedication! That is the kind of integrity he had. That was my beautiful brother. I like to count myself cut from the same cloth in terms of work ethic, but I pale in comparison to this man. He was a genius. I’m not fricking exaggerating out of familial bias. He wasn’t content just to understand bio-mechanics and the physiology relating to orthopedics. He wanted to understand the whole body - and he DID. He was hands down the BEST diagnostician I had ever seen in my 20 years working for multiple doctors as a transcriptionist.

Towards the end of January 2019, he called me and asked the kids and I to gather together so he could talk to us. “I have pancreatic cancer.” He admitted, “But I’m not giving up!” He rattled off the treatments he was still trying, and apologized when I began to cry. I cried like I hadn’t cried since my husband died. Three days later, we got a call from my niece telling us he was in the hospital and we’d better hurry. I sat by my brother’s bedside for about 12 hours - along with his wife, son, daughter, my kids, and a select few family and friends - and watched him slip away. That brilliant mind that had saved so many lives was riddled with toxins and infection and he was now septic. He kept shaking his head, trying to clear the fog that infected his brain - all the while stating, “I think I can beat this!” He passed away that night around 10 pm. And I was now alone in this world without my brother.

Over the following couple of days, my assistant, Lalana, began fielding all my calls and commission requests. I was numb with grief. I worked just to keep from collapsing in on myself but I wasn’t functioning very well. My brother was the only sibling I had left in my life. His death took me back to the day my husband died, and it was all I could do to keep moving. We come from sturdy Scottish stock. My grandparents were farmers, and southerners who had survived the depression. I’m tough, but I know when to say “Uncle.”

To others I looked like I was functioning fine. But inside, i was hanging on by a gossamer thread so when Nicole contacted me TWO DAYS after he died and left a voice message about wanting to discuss her Peacock gown, I wanted to just run away and hide. I sent her a text message and explained to her that my brother had just died and that I was in a very bad place. She being a therapist I thought she would understand and could empathize. Instead, she said “I just need ten minutes of your time.” I read the text, took a deep breath and reiterated that I had just WATCHED my brother die and that I was depressed and grieving and that I couldn’t discuss her gown right now. I asked her to give me a couple of weeks to right myself and we’d pick it back up then. She’s a THERAPIST she’ll understand and respect that boundary, won’t she? - I was wrong.

Over the following two days, she continued to insist that she just needed ten minutes of my time, just TEN MINUTES and couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t talk to her. I gaped as i read her messages. “Jesus Christ, why isn’t she getting it?” I thought. I took a deep breath, and tried again, this time a bit more strongly. I told her I was grieving, I was sad, I was depressed, I was crying intermittently, and that I simply didn’t have the energy to discuss her gown RIGHT NOW. Surely, that will get the message across? NOPE. She continued to harass me, stating she just needed to talk to me on the phone for ten minutes and then she would leave me alone to grieve. WTAF?

I tried again to assert my boundary, clinging to my professionalism, but mostly trying to salvage what I thought was a meaningful friendship. I repeated that I wasn’t going to talk to her on the phone but if she wanted to send me a message by Marco Polo I would listen to it when I felt a bit better. NO! She insisted I discuss her peacock gown on the phone as she didn’t communicate well in text messages or emails, but that she just needed ten minutes. Reality? There has NEVER been an occasion where this women only talked for ten damn minutes! I knew that! - And I wasn’t going to give in to her bullying. Once more, I wrote back that I could not talk to her about her gown, that it was the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. That’s when she did a 180% turn and I realized this woman is not my friend. A friend wouldn’t DARE ask me to set aside my grief to hear her ideas for a gown that had been DISCUSSED ad nauseam. She fired back in a vicious diatribe during which she claimed that she NEVER agreed to the embroidery pattern that I had used in my design board and that I was being unreasonable. “I” was being unreasonable? Are you frigging kidding me?

The more she pushed, and bullied, and accused, and attacked, the more I stood my ground and she went NUTS! I realized then that I was dealing with a true narcissist. I’d been raised by a malignant narcissist so I knew what I was dealing with now that her sheets had been pulled. What shocked me out of my socks was that she was a THERAPIST? My god!!! How insensitive and selfish can you be? It wasn’t bad enough that I just lost my beautiful brother, but I was also facing the reality that the person I had confided some of my darkest, most painful moments - someone I thought was a friend - turned out to be using me. So long as she got her way, we were great pals. The SECOND she didn’t get her way she turned VICIOUS and turned on me. At that realization, I invited her to find another designer and that it was clear to me that we weren’t friends after all.

She continued to harass me and sunk to passive aggressive comments such as “I thought we were friends,” stooping so low as to contact another designer who had made her a Victorian gown (which she complained to me about in regard to the quality of her work) and proceeded to trash talk me to this woman. I know because she accidentally shared the conversation with me on Facebook messenger thinking I was this other woman. I got to see who she REALLY WAS - and yes, I called her out on it.

Did I mention how much I abhor drama?

She went on the Elizabethan Costuming page and posted a picture of the blue gown I made her and claimed it was “her design.” She stated that her previous designer had retired due to “arthritis” and that she was looking for a new designer to work with her. Pictures of my work are all over the internet, ya’ll! People on that page recognized it as my work and were outraged that she was accepting accolades for a gown she had not “designed” or constructed. Her only input had been providing the fabrics and telling me what pattern she wanted on her forepart embroidery. I then began receiving alarmed messages on Facebook asking me if I was no longer accepting commissions, and then in my Etsy store informing me that someone named “Nicole” was claiming she had made a gown that they knew was mine. When she was called out by people who knew my work, she began to bad mouth me and my integrity. She contacted the moderators of the Elizabethan Costume page on Facebook and portrayed herself as a victim - which they swallowed hook, line and sinker, portraying herself as professional and a therapist! Eee Gods! *rolls eyes* They banned me AND anyone who called attention to her lies. Meh, so what. I wasn’t broken up about it. I banned her from my page, blocked her number and ended up having to SPAM her contact info on Etsy as she proceeded to bully and attack me for days following trying to elicit a reaction from me or engage me. The worst thing you can do to a narcissist is to ignore them. So, I did.

So, what’s the moral of this story you may ask? Well, I will tell you.

For all those who are self-employed, or are designers, I have this sage advice:

First, never, ever assume that friendly people are your friends. To quote a very old Scottish proverb: Bees with honey in their mouths, still have a sting in their tails.

Second, separate your business from your so-called friendships. I don’t care if it’s your BFF! ASK for a deposit NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE! - And don’t put them on your calendar until they do.

Third, set boundaries for your time from the JUMP! Don’t accept calls when you’re off the clock - or sick, or your brother just died! Don’t make allowances for bad behavior because you are friends. Keep your business separate, that way your friendships stay CLEAN - - or, you’ll find out whether or not they really are your friends.

Fourth, anyone who tries to bully through your boundaries - even if they claim to be your friend or they’re a family member - should not be allowed to win by attrition.

Fifth, don’t take a difficult client because you “need” the money - it can, and often will, come back to bite you in the arse!!

Sixth, if a client contacts you and her name is Nicole F******* and she shows you pictures of MY work and wants you to design something for her. . . RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!

LINKS:

BLUE GOWN: https://www.etsy.com/listing/620394045/womens-plus-sized-spanish-gown-custom?ref=shop_home_active_46&frs=1

POMEGRANATE GOWN: https://www.etsy.com/listing/605925091/womens-renaissance-dress-elizabethan?ref=shop_home_active_59&frs=1

#elizabethancostume #historicalcostume periodcostume costumedesigner renfaire

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Sharp Nails And A Sharper Tongue (Biadore) - Albatross

AN: An idle comment leads Adore to becoming a regular at Alaska’s favorite salon and very quickly Adore comes to understand exactly Alaska returns to the same technician every month.

So I know I talk a lot about what I’m planning with future works and as of late it seems (to me) like what I post doesn’t always match what I announced previously…A lot of that quite honestly has to do with various stressors from my job sapping away my motivation to work on certain stories. I have a lot of ideas that I want to create (some old, some new) but right now I’m struggling with having very little motivation to do so. And it seems like I create a fair amount of extra stress for myself by trying to stick to a writing schedule…So I’m gonna try something a little different; even though I want to work on some of my older ideas first since they’d been on my to-do list for awhile, I think I’m just gonna follow where my inspiration takes me at the moment. So the Trixya date is going to take a bit more time to be posted but I am starting to work on it and as for the next piece I’ll be actively working on, I’m pretty sure its gonna be the magical girl AU (which will have chapters dedicated to Ravjila, Shalaska, Witney, probably Biadore, and definitely hints of Dela x Jinkx but maybe not a whole chapter unless I can come up with more ideas for them). Rajalaskam is also one that I’m thinking of picking up again in the very near future because I have almost everything mapped out just not written down yet. I’m hoping that writing that one goes quickly since I’ve spent so much time prepping the plot points already. Thanks to everyone being so patient and supportive while I figure things out!

It started with a simple lazy comment, “I should get my nails done.”

Adore was just coming off her buzz from smoking earlier that afternoon and chanced a look down at said nails. There was embarrassingly little left to be seen of the previous polish she used; just a few patches of a hideous pastel green that had been all that she could find the last time she felt the urge to paint them. It was just an idle thought, one she wasn’t even sure why she vocalized but it instantly sparked the interest of her last remaining companion from that day’s smoke session.

Most everyone else had left over an hour ago at this point, save for Alaska. Part of their routine was that once they were alone, one of them would supply an extra joint of whatever new strain caught their eye that week. Then they’d enjoy the blunt in peace, chatting the day away while they decided on additional plans for that night, mostly revolving around food options. It was a good routine since they hardly got a chance to spend one-on-one time anymore.

But that one single sentence brought Alaska back to life and immediately she was recommending the salon where she gets her own nails done at. Adore hadn’t really planned to actually move forward with her idea but seeing the sudden burst of enthusiasm on her friend’s face was slowly convincing her…and if she didn’t go at least once Alaska probably would give her no rest until she finally made an appointment…or if Adore dared to tell that she wasn’t being entirely serious in her statement that could produce one of Alaska’s trademark pouts. It was fine when said pout was directed at another person but Alaska had no problem turning it on Adore if there was something she wanted the younger woman to do with or for her.

The blonde was an expert at getting her way after all. It usually meant a good time for everyone involved but she was becoming just a little too skilled with the emotional manipulation for Adore’s liking…especially since it often times meant that she was to be forced out of lazy afternoon or a chance to sleep in as of late. Alaska liked to be active and loved to drag her friends along for the ride, no matter how much they just wanted to veg out on the couch and watch bad TV.

Pushing those thoughts out of her head, Adore refocused herself on Alaska’s fervent reviews of all of the nail technicians at her salon of choice. Though she listed each one’s areas of strengths and drawbacks, Adore couldn’t help but noticed she had yet to mention one particular worker she was fond of.

“What about the one that does your nails?” she asked with her brow arching ever so slightly.

“Bianca?” Alaska questioned in shock. “Well, yeah, she’s there, too. But…”

“‘But?’” Adore inquired, now fully intrigued by Alaska’s reluctance to recommend her favorite technician.

“She’s good, great even. God, she’s probably one of the best I’ve ever had-”

Again Adore repeated, “But?”

“But she’s not always the most…friendly. Like after awhile when she starts talking, she’s really funny but she can also be just…really fucking rude sometimes,” the blonde stated in entirely blunt manner.

Alaska’s honest review had certainly piqued Adore’s curiosity and immediately she was prodding her friend for more information. Nervously scratching the back of her head, Alaska admitted, “It took a couple months before she was okay with me. She never really said much, always just quiet and professional but once she’s comfortable with you and starts talking back…her comments can get really pointed and harsh. A lot of it is just directed at random things at the salon but sometimes…she does talk about other people.”

It was no surprise to Adore’s mind that Alaska would be uncomfortable if the topic flipped to real people, possibly even ones she knows. She never really was one to want to listen to gossip. Adore however, loved to hear it all, even if she never repeated it…at least while sober. Drunk or tipsy Adore could not always be trusted with such information. But at a salon there was little chance of getting a drink any stronger than cheap coffee.

Continuing on, Alaska twiddled with a lock of her hair as she admitted, “She might not be the best choice for your first time there…Maybe start with Alyssa or Latrice, they love to talk! You’d really like them.”

Unconvinced, Adore plastered a teasing smirk on her lips and assured her friend, “I think I can handle Bianca if you can. The appointment’s only what? Like half an hour? I’ll be fine.”

******

Approximately 40 minutes after her arrival at the shop, Adore was forced to admit to herself that she was not fine…far from it. Alaska’s warnings had been right on the money but the brunette felt like she still hadn’t been adequately prepared for what Bianca was actually like. Quiet for the most part, yes. However, Alaska conveniently seemed to forget to mention the constant look of silent judging that had begun from practically the moment she first saw Adore.

The technician seemed to be expecting someone older, more put together as Adore was led to Bianca’s station by the receptionist. The look on Bianca’s face did nothing to hide her near disappointment with her new client. She almost looked completely fed up or exasperated by the young millennial that had specifically asked for her. And then the second she got a look at Adore’s nails?

The young brunette could have sworn she heard the older woman muttering a short prayer. Something along the lines of ‘Lord, give me patience.’

Adore wasn’t sure at the time what issue Bianca could have had with her nails. She removed the old polish after all. Wasn’t that what she was supposed to do?

It was only after confiding in Alaska about the judgemental stare that she was provided some insight. The blonde’s eyes darted to Adore’s newly manicured nails and instantly a knowing smirk found its way to her lips. In a plain, sympathetic voice she informed the younger woman, “It’s because you bite your nails. Bianca hates that.”

But all that knowledge would be revealed much later. For now Adore was shifting uncomfortably in her seat, something Bianca certainly did not appreciate. The young woman felt torn between constantly apologizing and wanting to yell at the technician for making her feel so inadequate. In the end she was able to relieve some of the stress by biting her lip as she focused on Bianca’s work.

It was fascinating, she had to admit. Alaska hadn’t been joking when she said Bianca was one of the best and not just within the shop. Her movements were so precise, so well-practiced. There wasn’t a mistake to be seen and of course, she was much faster than Adore expected someone so concerned with quality to be. She made it all look so effortless though Adore could easily recognize how much care and detail went into the finished result.

Bianca’s behavior aside, she loved the work the technician had put in and she had to confess; her nails never looked better. Bianca had more than earned Alaska’s praise and the hefty tip Adore was intending to leave. Once the final coat of paint was dried Adore couldn’t help but to grin down at her nails. She absolutely loved what she saw, from the filed tips right to the glossy shade of violet she chose. Turning her eyes up to the technician as she began to clean up, Adore shot off a bright smile and murmured a sincere, “Thanks!”

Bianca looked stunned for about half a second, blinking in something almost akin to confusion before quickly regaining her composure. She returned a small grin of her own and muttered, “Anytime,” before swiftly returning to preparing her station for the next client.

Something about the behavior warmed Adore’s heart and she couldn’t help but think that maybe Bianca wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as she first thought. But reality soon set in and she knew she shouldn’t dawdle any longer than necessary unless she truly wanted to annoy Bianca again. So she simply left her tip at the corner of Bianca’s table and took her leave to the receptionist’s desk to pay for the rest of the service.

That night as she showed off her newly painted nails to Alaska, the blonde asked her a surprising question; one she hadn’t really considered yet that day.

“You gonna go back?”

“Yeah,” she mused with a lazy grin as she admired her nails, “I think I will.”

*******

About a month passed between appointments until the gaps between the edge of the polish and Adore’s nail beds were quite visible. Hardly a second thought ran through her mind as she called the salon to book her next visit. After answering the usual questions of ‘Have you been here before?’, 'What day and time were you thinking of coming in?’, and 'What are you looking to get done?’, the receiptist asked one final question that left Adore’s heart racing just a bit too much for her taste; “Who would you like to see?”

There was a slight pause before Adore affirmed, “Bianca.”

Less than a minute later she was on the books for an appointment on Thursday afternoon with the salon’s premier temperamental technician. The day of she was left anxiously fiddling with her hair in the waiting area until the receptionist was ready to guide her back to the work stations. She hadn’t really expected Bianca to remember her, not when she was still just a newcomer and Bianca already had so many other clients, but the look of mild surprise once she saw Adore did please her more than she would have suspected. There was just a tinge of relief in her voice as she noted in a somewhat abrupt manner, “You’re back.”

“You do good work,” Adore replied politely as she took her seat.

The small proud smile Bianca wore confirmed that that was probably the best answer Adore could have given. The technician nodded her head as thanks and instructed the young brunette to pick out her next shade. Settling on a deep red, Adore handed over the bottle of polish and the two quickly fell back into their new routine. This time around Adore felt more at ease with Bianca, enough that her fidgeting had died down considerably. She didn’t quite dare to try to make small talk but the silence was still comfortable enough for her. Watching Bianca work was its own form of entertainment and if the technician didn’t feel comfortable speaking just yet she wouldn’t force it.

However by the next appointment Adore’s curiosity couldn’t be withheld any longer and she made the first of a few cautious inquiries to the older woman. She began with a simple, “How long have you been doing this?”

“Eight years next month,” came the blunt reply.

That was probably the most they had spoken thus far but it wouldn’t be the last.

With every new visit Adore would ask one more question than she had during her previous appointment. Each time Bianca would answer with an unexpected amount of patience but after Adore had worked her way up to five inquires in one day, the technician finally relented and began asking questions of her own as well.

After only two more visits, they left the standard small talk aside and began discussing things of actual interest to them. By this time Adore could see that Alaska’s assessment of Bianca was right on the money; she could be quite sarcastic, pretty much to the point of being rude but it was in a manner that was usually quite hilarious. Her deadpan or off-color comments typically left Adore cracking up until the older woman was silently glaring at her so she’d sit still. It was too bad that the glares eventually stopped working on the brunette all together. After awhile she would shoot back a baiting smirk almost as if she was daring the older woman with the old classic of 'Make me.’

More than once Bianca would arch her brow at the challenge but within seconds Adore would give in and allow Bianca to continue her work uninterrupted. She had to admit, she liked the fact that Bianca wasn’t inclined to go easy on her; if Adore was acting like a brat, Bianca had no problem letting her know. She would however, make it a point to follow up her teasing with a small smile just to reassure the young woman that she was only joking.

Over time Adore found herself admitting that she’d never thought she’d like Bianca as much as she did. Her now scheduled monthly visits soon became the highlight of her week, especially since the technician had actually taken to coming out to get her from the waiting room in person. It was quite a shock the first time it happened but Adore didn’t dare to comment on it, either to Bianca nor even to Alaska. In all the time she had been coming to the salon, she never saw any of the technicians escorting their clients to their work station; it was always the receptionist that would lead them there. But then again Bianca always did seem to be one to march to the beat of her own drum, as evidenced by the fact that she never really seemed inclined to act overly friendly like the other employees of the shop. She was talented and she knew it. She had more than enough returning customers that the managers of shop seemed content to simply let her do as she pleased so long as she continued to turn them a profit.

But still that extra effort made Adore feel special and even sharing it with Alaska would almost taint that so for now she left as her own little secret. Try as she might though, she often couldn’t stop herself from gushing over how her latest appointment went. For her part the older blonde listened patiently with an amused smile and a knowing glint in her eyes. The most she would usually say on the matter was a pleased, “I’m glad you like her.”

And like her, Adore certainly did. She wouldn’t trade her appointments for anything.

Things continued on this way until about midway through one of their usual chats Bianca suddenly asked, “What made you decide to come here in the first place?”

Of course even after knowing her for only a few months now, Adore knew she meant 'Why did you pick me?’

A considering smile grew across her lips as she recalled the smoke session and careless comment that led to her becoming a regular at the salon until she finally answered with a simple statement of, “You came highly recommended.”

Bianca let out a scoff of disbelief as she continued her work and waited silently until Adore was willing to provide further elaboration. In true Adore fashion, her secretiveness only lasted about 40 seconds before she followed up with, “Seriously though, you did come recommended…kind of. Alaska always raves your work whenever she-”

“Alaska?” Bianca interrupted in confusion. It wasn’t often that she could remember her client’s names but she felt certain a unique one like that would have stuck out more.

“Tall?” Adore described, “Really toned but kinda clumsy sometimes? Smiles and laughs a lot and…um, long blonde-”

“Wait…” Bianca mused as she paused in her work for a second. The name and description was starting to ring a bell until finally a hazy image began to form in her mind. A brief look of exasperation and defeat passed across the technician’s face as she questioned, “Was she the one that always had me gluing random shit to her nails?”

“That’s her!” the brunette confirmed with a proud smile.

“Oh, my god!” Bianca muttered with an eye roll. “I can’t tell you how relieved I was when she finally stopped asking for that bullshit…I ran out ideas one time and just used leftovers from the other kits we had lying around…And she still loved it!”

“No accounting for taste,” Adore agreed with an affectionate smile despite the light jab at her friend.

Grumbling, Bianca added in as she resumed her work, “I don’t know how she managed to do anything with all that shit hanging off her nails. I’ve seen her once or twice with her hair tangled in everything before she was even out the door! My god, I don’t even want to imagine what those nails would feel like running across your skin.”

A shiver passed through the technician as she remembered all of the times her clients had accidentally scratched her as she worked on their manicures even when they weren’t stiletto-sized like Alaska’s. It wasn’t usually a pleasant experience but still one that happened all too frequently with her job. Just another occupational hazard.

“Yeah,” Adore drawled out with a reminiscent grin as all of Alaska’s mishaps with her nails played on a loop in her mind. Remembering a past conversation with Alaska’s girlfriend, she threw in a careless comment of “Well, lucky for her, she’s a bit of a pillow princess in bed…But at least she’s up to try pretty much anything so long as it won’t mess her nails though.”

There was immediate pause on Bianca’s part as the words fell from Adore’s lips. Her fingers wrapped around Adore’s hand were trembling noticeably for a few seconds until Bianca was able to get a hold of herself. Casting her eyes back to her work, she let out a near emotionless utterance of “Oh.”

Following that comment a clear wave of tension filled the room and neither woman dared to speak much for the remainder of the appointment. Not that Adore didn’t try but after a few attempts to restart the conversation were met with blunt and even borderline harsh responses, she soon gave up and felt a growing cloud of misery hanging over her. She wasn’t sure what caused the sudden change in Bianca’s behavior nor how she should apologize for it so she just kept quiet. It was the first time in months that they had spent more than ten minutes without exchanging some kind of conversation with one another.

In an unceremoniously abrupt ending, Bianca finished her work and instantly began cleaning her station for the next customer. Over the last few visits she had made it a point to wait until Adore had left so they they might talk for a few additional minutes but today she seemed to have no interest in encouraging the brunette to stay any longer than necessary. The actions hurt Adore more than she thought it should have but she couldn’t bring herself to try and speak to Bianca again, apart from thanking her for another job well done.

As usual she left her tip at the corner of Bianca’s station and slunk out to the front of the shop to pay for the remainder of the service. When asked if she wanted to set up her next appointment awhile, she faltered for just a moment before ultimately deciding to schedule ahead as she would normally. Perhaps by her next visit Bianca would be back to her usual self and this whole thing would blow over like nothing had ever happened…

*******

For the first time since Adore had begun visiting the shop, she hadn’t gossiped about her appointment with Alaska once she got home. She didn’t want to dwell on the awkward end to her visit and Alaska seemed to sense that something had not gone quite right between Adore and her technician. Though the brunette could tell Alaska wanted to try to help, Adore just wasn’t sure how to even explain what had happened or why it left her feeling so miserable. But to her gratitude, Alaska didn’t push the subject, she simply reassured Adore that if she wanted to vent, she’d be there to listen.

Adore thanked her as she always would have but deep down she knew she had no intention of discussing the visit’s events with anyone…at least not until Alaska came back from her latest appointment with a worried look on her face. When she showed up unexpectedly at Adore’s apartment, it was easy to see that she was upset by how her appointment had progressed but mostly she was just incredibly confused by everything. Adore had known well ahead of time about Alaska’s upcoming visit and debated giving her some kind of warning but ultimately she had decided against it. Part of her reasoned that Bianca was a professional and whatever issue was happening between the two of them wouldn’t carry over to another client…seems she was quite mistaken with that thought.

Completely ignoring all sense of tact and subtlety, Alaska asked point blank what had happened between the pair the last time they saw each other. Adore was somewhat coy with her answer, still not fully understanding why there was a sudden 180 to Bianca’s behavior but she still remained convinced that whatever it was had pretty much been entirely her fault…and no trace of her wanted to admit that to Alaska nor did she want to repeat the comment she had made that had probably caused this whole mess. All the same she still felt awful that her stupid mistake was now affecting Bianca and Alaska’s working relationship.

Very cautiously, Adore inquired if Bianca had said anything directly to Alaska that might provide some kind of insight as to why she suddenly became so irritated with both of them rather than just Adore. To her disappointment, Alaska only gave a distressed reply of “No, she…she just seemed angry and cold and quiet the whole time…she hasn’t been like that with me for years. I don’t what changed or why.”

Whatever it was, Adore knew she had to apologize, at least for Alaska’s sake. If she wanted to, she could always find another technician or even another shop for her manicure but Alaska loved that salon and their employees far more than Adore did. The very last thing the brunette wanted to do was make Alaska’s presence in the shop awkward or uncomfortable because she had done something careless that offended one of the technicians.

Almost immediately after Alaska left her apartment to mull over her troubling visit, Adore called the salon to reschedule her appointment. It had barely been two weeks since she was last there but she needed some excuse to see Bianca and speak with her. The fact that she was a regular did help the rescheduling process. Normally the receptionist probably would have been less accommodating but upon seeing the familiar name pop up, she was quite willing to move the appointment to the next available time slot. Granted it was much earlier in the day than Adore usually liked to wake up but if she could fix things for Alaska and maybe even herself, it’d be more than worth it.

********

Only three days later, Adore arrived at the shop for one of the very first appointments of the day. As she waited for her turn she held a small hope that Bianca would come out to greet her like she’d done in the past but unfortunately it was the receptionist that led her to Bianca’s station. Adore tried to not let her expression show just how unhappy she was at the small gesture, or rather lack of on Bianca’s part, and quietly took her seat across from the technician.

Instead of their usual warm exchange of greetings, Bianca coldly asked her to pick her shade from the selection of polish. It hardly mattered to Adore what color she’d wear for the next month so merely chose whichever caught her eye first. Wordlessly, Bianca began her work and the only sound filling the room for the longest time was the light pop music playing across the speakers and the dull chatter from other technicians as they waited for their own clients to arrive.

Despite how much she ached inside to apologize, Adore just couldn’t bring herself to vocalize any actual words. It all felt so clumsy and insincere whenever she tried to think of a segue into the discussion she longed to start. She wished she had prepared herself more for this because now it felt like she had just made everything worse somehow. She was all but biting her lip as she searched her mind for something, just anything to say.

Every so often Bianca’s eyes would drift from her work and up to meet Adore’s own worried ones. The contact would barely last a second but there was a growing look of guilt on Bianca’s face with each new glance. A near silent sigh escaped her, as she mentioned in defeat, “You stopped biting your nails.”

Absently Adore nodded her head, thankful that some kind of conversation had begun, and confirmed in a small voice, “Yeah…Alaska said that you hated when people do that.”

At once Bianca’s hardened expression returned and very clearly she was biting the interior of her lip to keep herself from spitting out some scathing remark. She quickly huddled in on herself in a mock attempt at looking as though she were concentrating on her task but it was obvious that the last place she wanted to be right now was across from Adore.

The brunette’s throat constricted as she realized almost immediately that even mentioning Alaska’s name was probably one of the worst things she could have done at that point. She had to actively fight against her instincts of pulling back her hand and just ending the appointment then and there. A familiar burning sensation was beginning to prick at the corner of her eyes but she forced herself to stay put. She needed to do this, she reasserted to herself. If she chickened out now, she’d probably never be able to face Bianca again…and even if she failed, at least she would know she tried…

Her voice came out weak and hesitant in a manner almost unknown to her as she called out, “Um…hey…Bianca?”

With a stony expression, Bianca stopped her work and looked up at the young woman with something just short of a glare in her eyes. Adore’s tongue felt heavy and dry as she pushed herself to apologize, “Listen, I’m really sorry for what I said last time…That had really crossed a line…”

Bianca let out a sarcastic noise of agreement and returned to finish her job but immediately her hands paused once again as she heard Adore’s shameful confession of, “I was trying to be funny and repeated what her girlfriend told me but-”

“Girlfriend?” she interrupted in an abrupt and unexpected state of confusion. Her brows furrowed together as she said reproachfully, “I thought you were her-”

“What? No!” Adore squeaked out as her eyes grew wide and shocked in response to Bianca’s assumptions. She could feel her face beginning to heat up even as she declared firmly, “We’re just friends, we-you!”

A moment of pure clarity finally struck Adore and even more so she felt her cheeks beginning to burn. A smile that seemed caught somewhere between ecstatic and relieved stretched across her lips as she almost shouted in realization, “That’s why you were acting so bitchy, wasn’t it? You were-”

For the first time Adore could recall, a blush rose to Bianca’s cheeks as she hastily denied, “No, I wasn’t.”

Entirely unconvinced, Adore allowed herself to be consumed by a sense of overwhelming joy as she argued excitedly with the technician, “You were! You were totally jealous!”

“Fuck off, I was not,” Bianca rebutted defensively as all sense of professionalism and decorum seemed to be thrown out the window. She couldn’t even pretend that she could look Adore in the eye at the moment and instead ordered her client, “Shut up and let me finish your nails.”

Settling down somewhat, Adore didn’t even try to hide the victorious smirk that had overtaken her face as she remarked with sense of pride and finality, “You were jealous.”

Bianca spent the remainder of the appointment annoyed and practically grumbling as she tried to will away the unwanted color that had spread across her cheeks. Adore herself sat smug but thankfully silent as Bianca sped through the remainder of her work as though her life depended on it. Every time Bianca dared to look up, she found Adore already watching her with a disgustingly satisfied and overly confident glint in her eyes.

Once her client’s nails were finally dried, Bianca immediately recused herself to the employee break room. The other technicians’ eyes wandered closely after her but none dared to actually follow her beyond the doorway. Adore for one was far from offended, she actually found it somewhat adorable that a woman who typically seemed so composed and in control of herself had to rush off in embarrassment while her face cooled down. There was something charmingly vulnerable about the behavior, particularly now that she finally understood why Bianca had acted so moodily during Adore and Alaska’s last visits.

Snatching up one of Bianca’s pens and business cards from her station, Adore wrote a short note on the back of the card and left it laying in a painfully obvious position on top of her tip. She still wore a smirk as she paid for the service at the front desk and scheduled her next appointment for the following month. As much as she wanted to proudly shout it from the rooftop she bit back any vocalization indicating that she was sure she’d be seeing the technician again much sooner than that.

Almost as if to prove her point, nearly the second she entered her car, she felt her phone vibrating with a new alert. The message was blank and originated from a number not yet saved in her phone but Adore had little doubt as to who just contacted her. A wide grin that she couldn’t even try to contain broke out across her lips as she typed back, 'Hey, B.’

A mere 5 seconds passed before a second alert popped up on her screen, 'You said to text to you.’

Adore rolled her eyes as she quickly replied, 'Yeah, but it looks like you forgot the text part in that first message.’

'Cocky little brat,’ swiftly populated in the newest text bubble but only a second after Adore began chuckling at the light jab, a fourth message came through; one that erased any sort of smart-ass remark she was inclined to type back, 'My shift ends at 6…Want to get something to eat after that?’

Adore’s confirmation was sent back almost immediately and as she waited for further details from the temperamental technician, Adore found herself thinking that more than any other appointment she had with Bianca in the past; this upcoming one was undoubtedly the one she was looking forward to the most.

#rpdr fanfiction #albatross #biadore #bianca del rio #adore delano #alaska thunderfuck #fluff #nail salon au #jealousy #tw drugs #tw weed #concrit welcome #submission #lesbian au

85 notes · View notes

whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Tuesday 9 July 1839

2 ¾

lay down at

11 ¾

fine morning lay down again for ¼ hour F72 ½° at 3 ½ am as at 10 last night – obliged to pay the bill as sent up last night – 2fl. 40 cents = 4/90 French francs and cents for the servants room! I had told Gross to see to the bargaining last night – he cannot, it seems, do us much good in this respect – would not give the servants anything – drove off at 4 5/.. – at Holten at 5 35/.. little village had slept almost all the way from Deventer – Deventer a good town – 3 or 4 grandes places – but no great stirring apparently in the town – we tasted our gingerbread and liked it very much – slept also to Almelo, and here A- and I got out for ¼ hour and walked about the good village – each did a little job and a small bit of big job and were all the better for it – looked into some of the cottages and felt refreshed – as we journey on this way wards the country less fertile – more marshy heather – Ottmarsum [Ootmarsum] (in our map des Pays Bas spelt Oostmarsum) at 9 35/.. la poste and Inn – the star – neat little town and nice enough country Inn – breakfast – very good café au lait and strawberries – 3 sorts of bread and petit pains roties – and schapsiger [Schabziger] cheese excellent but not eating – I merely tasted it – large lofty room – the billed table at one end of it – very comfortable here – breakfast over at 10 50/.. – all the horses gone out with the diligence – cannot have them of ½ hour (now 10 50/..) it will be 11 ½ or later before we can get off – then sat writing till 11 ¾ - and off at 11 55/.. – nice people at this Inn – from here a rough pavé along the sandy plain – and comme Les Landes now at 1 5/.. and all along after leaving the cultivated environs of the town – peaty, heathery, sandy, marshy moor or common – must be bleak and dreary in winter – at 1 9/.. pass between the 2 barriers Holland a white post, Hanover ribanded slightly peagreenish yellow and the chiffre EAR and then immediately house and barrier no. 13 – we passed by as if there was nothing – at Nordhorn at 1 36/.. – our passport asked for, and looked at for a moment, and no more notice taken – curiously topped over chemnies [chimneys] here (Nordhorn 1st town in Hanover) as at Deventer – 2 at the latter place finished by 2 whitewashed pots or masses of plaster work in the form of Corinthian capitals – here and there the common top

weather cock that turns the cap with the wind –

the tops stand on light irons staunchous looking as if about 1in. square bar of iron – merely a few inches left for the smoke to escape at – Gabel-ended houses – all above the top of the ground floor wood, boards lapping one a little over the other and painted and the different gables of different houses being of different colours has a singular and picturesque effect – brick-work generally filling up the squares of the wood-frame, and the dark coloured wooden squares filled with the red brick is also picturesque – and very neat – all the houses neat and seeming in good repair – in short Nordhorn a nice clean picturesque gable-ended town – the postmaster gave me only 5th[alers] 13ggr. [abbreviation for Guter Groschen] for a William (Dutch gold) instead of 5.16.0 as the girl pretty girl of the house at Ottmarsum [Ootmarsum] told me I ought to have – horses 9ggr. each per poste, or German meile, and the postillion paid as one horse – from here (Nordhorn) our jolting (little constant wriggling jolting) begins – a rough granite small boulder stone pavé over the sand – a wide moor on all sides, dotted over with peat cocks – all this morning, when not asleep, at German vocabulary and calculating difference of monies etc. – stop to water the horses at single house at 3 ¼ for 4 or 5 minutes and at 3 25/.. 1st notice granite boulders lying about on the land (moor) these boulders containing perhaps ½ to perhaps 1ft. cube of stone – and soon pass over range of sand-hill – at 3 52/.. cross river – good wooden stone-paved bridge with low neat iron railing on each side – Lingen at 4 ¾ nice little town – the postmaster wanted us to go by Osnabrück – 9 hours from here (Lingen) to O- good road – and if we go by Hazelunen must have 4 horses and shall hardly arrive till midnight – must walk all the way – 9 hours from here to O- and then all the detour afterwards alarmed me – would go to Hazelunen – we ought to have gone from Deventer to O- if at all – but our Landlord there Beking an extortionist who never shewed his face, instead of being of any use to us – A- and I walked a little ¼ hour about Lingen did little jobs and looked into the gable-ended buildings – tolerable little town gable-ended as at Nordheim but not neat and spruce and good – off from Lingen with 4 horses at 3 ¾ - the road a mere track of over the sandy plain – evident we could not get out of footspace – at 4 ¼ thought to return the postillion civil would turn back but hoped he should not be blamed – then finding we should be at Hazelunen in 4 hours and the postillion said we had come about ¾ mile which we should have to pay for, and could not reach O- till 2 or 3 in the morning determined to go forwards and take our chance – at 4 ½ A- and I and all alighted and walked 20 minutes then got into the carriage again thinking we could trot a little – but this trotting was only for a few minutes and then we relapsed into our footspace again – stop at 6 50/.. half way to rest a little – the postboy wanted leaders – no! and on we

SH:7/ML/E/23/0080

we went but the horses tired already – at 7 ½ the postillion ran to a house at a little distance (left) for leaders – none to be had – at 7 ¾ A- and I alight to walk, and Gross went to another house left for leaders and returned after some little time – none to be had – the carriage and we had gone slowly on – the sand ankle deep and very fatiguing but the evening fine and cool, and A- and I and all walked on and on – at last we had a pride in keeping before the carriage to Hazelunen, and, having several times stopped till the carriage came up within hearing (too dark at last to see it) we crossed the drawbridge, passed under the gate and entered the town, then got into the carriage for the very short way we had to go in the town and alighted at 9 ¾ - very comfortable sort of country-town gasthof - the master of the house quite young – spoke a little English very civil – went into the kitchen to see what we could have for supper – part of cold roast large shoulder of veal, soup, a couple of boiled eggs and bread and butter and ½ bottle vin de grave, and hot water – very good and comfortable – but Gross said before the man it was only a thaler – I then understood for everything – supper over at 11 – we had sat writing a little till it was ready – very fine day – our 2 bedded room very hot – smallish – lay down (having only taken off my gown and shoes and stockings) at 11 ¾ - A- had laid down ¼ hour before me

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end-of-pizza · 5 years

Text

Weird Anime Night Redeemed

guys, can I please talk about Hi Score Girl

I have talked about this in the past, but there is a really big soft spot in my heart for romance anime. I love romance anime, I will occasionally jump from show to show for a while, just wallowing in the stuff. I think its the drama of them, but also like, usually they’re about falling in love in middle school, and trying to make it work, and I’ve been dating the same girl since i was 13 so like, that shit resonates with me on a deeeeeep level. figuring out how you feel about girls, while also trying to figure out how you feel about A girl, beauty.

I also have talked about how I have a deep deep love of arcade fighting games, like a mild addiction to arcade fighting games, like I build fighter pads,

and for a hot minute I also made a few super guns so I could play LEGIT versions of those games at home. (for the uninitiated super guns look like this)

that cable is a JAMMA harness, that connects to the JAMMA edge on an arcade board, and the box is for you to plug in controllers, and plug it into your tv. its an arcade game console....I have since mostly moved over to a MAME console built off of a raspberry pi and my dreamcast, because collecting arcade boards is a very expensive hobby to have, and have since sold off most of my boards....I also had a consolized MVS, and had a couple of neo geo games, but I quit that fast, 150 bucks for a dang cartridge is stupid, no version of king of fighters is worth that

OKAY SO ABOUT THE ANIME

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THIS IS A ROMANCE ANIME ABOUT TWO-ish KIDS WHO FALL IN LOVE AROUND AND BECAUSE OF ARCADES IN EARLY 1990′S JAPAAAAAAAAAN

AND BECAUSE JAPAN IS LIKE 5 YEARS AHEAD OF AMERICA THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE ARCADES THEY PLAY IN FEEL LIKE THE ARCADES I GREW UP IIIIIIIIN

I 100% remember when I first played street fighter alpha and wondering when the fuck 3 would come out just like the protag in this did. okay okay jesus I am rambling about this show too much

WIKI SAYS The story revolves around the life of gamer Haruo Yaguchi, the coin-op gaming scene, and the changes that develop within both over time. Known as a ’90s arcade romantic comedy, the series is notable for its unique art style, and thoroughly accurate depictions of the multitude of gaming software, hardware, and even culture that are featured.

our main dude is Haruo Yaguchi a young man who is dismal in various facets of life: He's not academic, not athletic, and not very attractive. The only thing he's got going for him is an insane amount of mad gamer skills. He rules the arcade scene as "Beastly Fingers Yaguchi ", until he meets his match during a fateful encounter with Akira Oono while playing Street Fighter II. Undeterred, he seeks to challenge and one day out play her, considering her his rival.While he starts off as a snarky brat with an ego bigger than any winning streak he could rack up in Street Fighter, he eventually grows out of it. However, he never abandons his dedication and love for gaming, which almost borders on unhealthy obsession. On the bright side, this pure passion for gaming is what leads him to finding some of his closest friends. and then theres the main love interest Oono

The daughter of the Oono zaibatsu, Oono is rich, popular, and multi-talented -- the polar opposite of Haruo. However, in attempt to escape the strict educational regimen she faces at home, she sneaks away every so often to play in game centers where she showcases her exceptional gaming skills.She initially encounters Haruo during a match of Street Fighter II, and from then on bonds with him over their mutual love for gaming. She never talks, and communicates solely through gestures and facial expressions.

I will say the fact she doesnt talk is kinda problematic to me personally, but hey, no story is perfect, and her being silent is offset byyyyyyyyyyy

Koharu Hidaka,

who is the left leg in the love triangle, and IMHO a much stronger character than Oono, but....well we’ll get to that later.

She’s a girl in Haruo's class throughout junior high. Goes to an all-girl school with Onizuka throughout high school. Previously an introverted girl who spent much of her time studying alone, she develops into a more sociable person and develops an interest in gaming after spending time with Haruo over a new Neo Geo MVS that gets installed in front of her family's store.She has a natural instinct for fighting games, which transforms her into a powerful force to be reckoned with as both a gamer, and a rival for Haruo's affections. After a fateful showdown at her and Haruo's usual stomping grounds, she developed a bit of a sadistic side whenever Haruo's around. This frightening skill garnered the attention of the "Mizonokuchi Force" leader, Nikotama, who helped Koharu truly awaken her love for fighting games.

she sort of gets side tracked by some stuff in highschool, and takes a weird turn...but again we’ll get to that

so this show is fucking amazing

I binged it in one night, and I loved it so much, that I actually went out and read a bunch of scanulations of the manga because the show pulls A GOD DAMN INUYASHA and just stops at the half way point. i havent hunted down the manga side of a show to finish it since Suzuka, another love triangle romance anime....hmmmm

the entire show is on netflix as an original series and its animated in this really cool CGI/ cell shaded look that feels like oldschool anime, but also like an old mmo or something, its weird, but so so so so good.

please stop now and go watch every moment of it, trust me you will love it

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____________________________________________________________ OKAY SO WE CAN TALK ABOUT THAT

wowowowowowowow some spoilers ahead yall wowowowowowowowow

so I want to talk about the second half, which I experienced via manga, manga from less than great websites, and because....my experience is via scanulations and sometimes those are less than reliable, anyway, they fall into some sort of gang arcade scene in shibuya in the second half, which is weird, and its painted pretty weird in the manga, but I think the show will sort it out more when the OVA comes out in march, yes netflix is going to finish it with 3 OVA’s which I assume are going to be like 45 minutes to an hour each

anyway, in the manga I dont really like what they did to Hidaka once they get into the gang stuff, she got really angry, and sad, and sadistic, which I mean....she didnt do anything to deserve that heel turn. but hey, this show is amazing, and the manga is amazing and the ending IS FUCKING WORTH IT and I have eaten up about 40% of your dash, really sorry phone users, but hey. I do what I do in the name of good animes, and I feel like I had to make up for that sack of crap I gave you all the other night

please go watch hi score girl, its amazing.

#hi score girl #weird anime night

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