aheathen-conceivably

[aheathen-conceivably]

And five six seven eight…

Violette lifted both of her arms above her head into a graceful oval. Timed with her next inhale, she arched her feet into carefully balanced points on the threadbare rug.

And five, six, seven, eight… 

One of her arms floated down from above her head, and then her left foot rose from the floor to meet the bend of her knee so that her entire body weight rested on only the tip of her big toe. She usually spent her Sundays this way, performing for an audience comprised of the ever-present ballerina in the box and a collection of dolls and Teddy Bears now beginning to collect dust in the corners of her room. They were her very own silent sentinels, keeping watch of her feet as they danced on the floor and helping her keep time with the count in her mind.

And five, six, seven… 

But wafting through the crack her mother made her keep in the door was the sound of humming. She hadn’t noticed it at first, drowned out as it was by the music in her mind; but as the lulling sound transformed into a melody with words, the rigid posture of her shoulders softened. Although quiet, the voice danced over the unintelligible lyrics with the perfect pitch and tenor, sung with a sort of wistful melancholy that made you long for something despite how sorrowful it was. 

She knew the voice, of course - from a thousand lullabies and absentminded chore-songs. Still, it never seemed to grow old, especially when it came to her mother unburdened and unselfconscious like it was now. One after the other, Violette let her feet go flat on the floor, listening to the quiet intricacies of the voice as she followed it the short distance down the hall.

She stopped in the doorway, twirling her fingers self-consciously as her mother looked into the mirror. She loved when she could catch her like this - getting ready for work with a sense of purpose that made her seem like a hummingbird in flight. She tilted her head sideways, looking at the neatly tied bow on her mother’s lapel and wondering if it was Monday after all.

Zelda seemed to notice her, and seamlessly transformed the hum already in her throat into spoken words. “Oh! Lottie! Perfect. I was just coming to find you. I have to run by the library to sign for a package. I should only be an hour. Maybe two. If you need anything just go by the cabin and tell Gio. Just - be nice to him, please?”

Violette watched her adjust her earring back again, admiring how the pearls always seemed to highlight her face. “It opens this week, right?”

Zelda stopped, leaving her hand curled beneath her ear as her eyes crept toward the figure in her doorway. “It does. Wednesday...”

“Do you - do you think I can go with you then? After school?”

A small smile played on Zelda’s face, twitching at the corner near where her hand was still suspended as if frozen in surprise. "Do you - would you like to come with me today? You can see it first. Before anyone else gets to..."

The front door of the library opened without a sound. The brass hinges had been shined and oiled only days before, simply waiting for the moment when someone would make use of them. From the newly organized entryway, the smell of old wood emanated out onto the porch. Only now it was accompanied by the scent of fresh paint and sawdust rather than the moldering dust and stagnant air that had lived alongside it before.

Violette took two steps inside, her wide eyes basking in every inch of the place. Zelda watched her, too happy to realize that she was doing exactly what she herself had done when Alexander had first taken her here months before. Careful not to ruin the spell, she silently angled the door closed, following Violette as her fascination took her into the adjacent solarium.

Surrounded by late afternoon sunshine, Violette spun in a circle, her gaze trailing all the way to the top of the two story bookshelves and then back down again. Every row was filled from one end to the other with books - dozens and dozens and dozens of them. She could feel tears forming in her eyes just imagining how many stories were up there. It seemed like nothing short of magic that they had been collected in one place just waiting for someone to walk through the freshly painted doors and discover them.

Awestruck beyond words she turned around again, facing the wall opposite the soaring windows where a half a dozen portraits and photographs were displayed. “Who are they?”

Zelda followed her eyes, looking sideways toward the patinated gazes lining the wall. “They used to live here. Well some of them - others are members of their family from before the house was built.” She stopped speaking, expecting Violette’s attention to have turned elsewhere, but instead her daughter turned toward her expectedly. An insuppressible smile pulled at both corners of Zelda's lips. 

“I’ve been researching them. For the plaques. It’s been difficult at points, especially without traveling to other archives. But - but the man all the way to the top, do you see him? He’s the oldest member of the family I could find. He came here from England over a hundred years ago, in 1820. I imagine there must be more records there but -”

“From England? The way you did?”

Zelda turned toward her, her mouth still open in speech but now suspended in suppressed surprise. “I - yes. I - suppose so.” 

Violette smiled at her before she turned back to the wall of portraits, her eyes moving down them like she was reading the lines of a story. As she reached the bottom, where the most recent pictures had been placed, she tilted her head sideways like she had understood something. Then she turned back to the windows over her shoulder, the light filtering through them with a peculiar magic of its own. She watched it dance, speaking toward the panes as she did so. “Did you really make all this happen?”

Her voice had been hushed - so full of awe and childish disbelief that it pulled at Zelda’s heart. “I - I like to think I helped.”

Although Zelda couldn’t see her face, a proud, emotional countenance overtook Violette. Zelda brought her hands together, trying to peek over her daughter’s shoulder as she addressed her. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

Violette turned around, directing her attention back to her mother as she finished the heavily impressed final words. 

“Would you like to see my office? It's just upstairs...”

A fervent nod and excited smile was all the answer that Zelda would have needed, but Violette skipped over to her, lacing her arm around hers as she pulled them forward as though she knew the way. “Can you tell me more about them? The family on the wall?”

Zelda nodded, her words hushed and excited as she began to tell Violette the stories that she had found in her research. As they left the room their voices echoed through the hallways. Their footsteps sounded alongside them, keeping time with one another with every step.

Previous / Next

[aheathen-conceivably]

And five six seven eight…

Violette lifted both of her arms above her head into a graceful oval. Timed with her next inhale, she arched her feet into carefully balanced points on the threadbare rug.

And five, six, seven, eight… 

One of her arms floated down from above her head, and then her left foot rose from the floor to meet the bend of her knee so that her entire body weight rested on only the tip of her big toe. She usually spent her Sundays this way, performing for an audience comprised of the ever-present ballerina in the box and a collection of dolls and Teddy Bears now beginning to collect dust in the corners of her room. They were her very own silent sentinels, keeping watch of her feet as they danced on the floor and helping her keep time with the count in her mind.

And five, six, seven… 

But wafting through the crack her mother made her keep in the door was the sound of humming. She hadn’t noticed it at first, drowned out as it was by the music in her mind; but as the lulling sound transformed into a melody with words, the rigid posture of her shoulders softened. Although quiet, the voice danced over the unintelligible lyrics with the perfect pitch and tenor, sung with a sort of wistful melancholy that made you long for something despite how sorrowful it was. 

She knew the voice, of course - from a thousand lullabies and absentminded chore-songs. Still, it never seemed to grow old, especially when it came to her mother unburdened and unselfconscious like it was now. One after the other, Violette let her feet go flat on the floor, listening to the quiet intricacies of the voice as she followed it the short distance down the hall.

She stopped in the doorway, twirling her fingers self-consciously as her mother looked into the mirror. She loved when she could catch her like this - getting ready for work with a sense of purpose that made her seem like a hummingbird in flight. She tilted her head sideways, looking at the neatly tied bow on her mother’s lapel and wondering if it was Monday after all.

Zelda seemed to notice her, and seamlessly transformed the hum already in her throat into spoken words. “Oh! Lottie! Perfect. I was just coming to find you. I have to run by the library to sign for a package. I should only be an hour. Maybe two. If you need anything just go by the cabin and tell Gio. Just - be nice to him, please?”

Violette watched her adjust her earring back again, admiring how the pearls always seemed to highlight her face. “It opens this week, right?”

Zelda stopped, leaving her hand curled beneath her ear as her eyes crept toward the figure in her doorway. “It does. Wednesday...”

“Do you - do you think I can go with you then? After school?”

A small smile played on Zelda’s face, twitching at the corner near where her hand was still suspended as if frozen in surprise. "Do you - would you like to come with me today? You can see it first. Before anyone else gets to..."

The front door of the library opened without a sound. The brass hinges had been shined and oiled only days before, simply waiting for the moment when someone would make use of them. From the newly organized entryway, the smell of old wood emanated out onto the porch. Only now it was accompanied by the scent of fresh paint and sawdust rather than the moldering dust and stagnant air that had lived alongside it before.

Violette took two steps inside, her wide eyes basking in every inch of the place. Zelda watched her, too happy to realize that she was doing exactly what she herself had done when Alexander had first taken her here months before. Careful not to ruin the spell, she silently angled the door closed, following Violette as her fascination took her into the adjacent solarium.

Surrounded by late afternoon sunshine, Violette spun in a circle, her gaze trailing all the way to the top of the two story bookshelves and then back down again. Every row was filled from one end to the other with books - dozens and dozens and dozens of them. She could feel tears forming in her eyes just imagining how many stories were up there. It seemed like nothing short of magic that they had been collected in one place just waiting for someone to walk through the freshly painted doors and discover them.

Awestruck beyond words she turned around again, facing the wall opposite the soaring windows where a half a dozen portraits and photographs were displayed. “Who are they?”

Zelda followed her eyes, looking sideways toward the patinated gazes lining the wall. “They used to live here. Well some of them - others are members of their family from before the house was built.” She stopped speaking, expecting Violette’s attention to have turned elsewhere, but instead her daughter turned toward her expectedly. An insuppressible smile pulled at both corners of Zelda's lips. 

“I’ve been researching them. For the plaques. It’s been difficult at points, especially without traveling to other archives. But - but the man all the way to the top, do you see him? He’s the oldest member of the family I could find. He came here from England over a hundred years ago, in 1820. I imagine there must be more records there but -”

“From England? The way you did?”

Zelda turned toward her, her mouth still open in speech but now suspended in suppressed surprise. “I - yes. I - suppose so.” 

Violette smiled at her before she turned back to the wall of portraits, her eyes moving down them like she was reading the lines of a story. As she reached the bottom, where the most recent pictures had been placed, she tilted her head sideways like she had understood something. Then she turned back to the windows over her shoulder, the light filtering through them with a peculiar magic of its own. She watched it dance, speaking toward the panes as she did so. “Did you really make all this happen?”

Her voice had been hushed - so full of awe and childish disbelief that it pulled at Zelda’s heart. “I - I like to think I helped.”

Although Zelda couldn’t see her face, a proud, emotional countenance overtook Violette. Zelda brought her hands together, trying to peek over her daughter’s shoulder as she addressed her. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

Violette turned around, directing her attention back to her mother as she finished the heavily impressed final words. 

“Would you like to see my office? It's just upstairs...”

A fervent nod and excited smile was all the answer that Zelda would have needed, but Violette skipped over to her, lacing her arm around hers as she pulled them forward as though she knew the way. “Can you tell me more about them? The family on the wall?”

Zelda nodded, her words hushed and excited as she began to tell Violette the stories that she had found in her research. As they left the room their voices echoed through the hallways. Their footsteps sounded alongside them, keeping time with one another with every step.

Previous / Next

[aheathen-conceivably]

Calling myself out for the film inspo for the latest post, and also ~music vibes~…

[aheathen-conceivably]

Only a real stage had wings, and that was precisely where Jo was standing. She was watching Antoine’s performance - which was just as electric as it always was when he was holding a guitar in his hands; but she wasn’t listening to the notes from within the crowd or from some obfuscated table behind it. No. She was watching him from the wings of a stage. A real stage.

Beyond it, a crowd of dancing bodies moved in sync with every strum of his guitar. Wall to wall the way she remembered them packed into the club half a decade before - contorting together atop the parquet floorboards of her memory where their heeled shoes moved in time to the clashing of piano keys.

Hosa moved to stand beside her, peering out to take a glimpse at the crowd of dancing bodies she was studying. “I would say its going well, don’t you?”

Going well was an understatement. There was a line to enter the hall before it had even opened. The posters that Hosa had rush printed had done only half of the work. Have you seen him? That guitarist that’s been playing at George’s? Heard he’s from New Orleans. Heard if there’s a piano on stage he plays it too. Did he play that House of the Rising Sun when you saw him? Somebody told me he only plays it every other show so we’re going to the next one till we hear it.

Jo looked back at Hosa with a triumphant smile that he couldn’t help but emulate. “Stay put when he’s done, will you? There’s somebody I want you to meet.”

The sound of Antoine’s guitar had been replaced by the slow and steady sweep of a broom trying to clear the dust from the scratched wooden floor. Echoing out alongside it, from the wings of a stage that had just been the center of attention, was the sound of a man’s voice. It was deep and only subtly accented with an inflection that neither Jo nor Antoine had ever heard before.

"You know I must say, when Hosa told me his guitarist’s manager was a woman, I found it hard to believe. Never woulda’ thought a woman’s mind had the capacity to navigate business dealins’, of all things. And a negr -"

Antoine's left foot stepped forward, his hands tucked in his pockets in a way that said he was one breath away from taking them out. The heavy anger prompting his speech was low but clear, stopping the man’s speech in its tracks. “You finish that word and you can swallow it alongside your bloody teeth - "

His threat was undermined by the sound of Jo’s hand thumping against his chest. Despite the grunt Antoine managed to muffle, the man across the room had already begun to cower. Jo looked toward him in the most cajoling manner she could muster. “You must forgive my brother. Being his manager just means me looking after him. As you can see he looks after me too. Even does the business thinking for me when my mind gets in a womanly way.”

A high-pitched, nervous laugh cut through the tension. “Oh, she’s funny! Hosa! You never told me she was funny.”

She let him laugh off the cowardice in his posture, finding his footing again after he had stepped back from Antoine. Then she looked toward Antoine pointedly, as though ensuring that when she moved her hand away he wouldn’t attack. Please just smile, mon frère. Smile for the circus. For me. Please.

When he nodded she let it drop, looking back at the pair of men with slightly less lacquer in her voice. “Now what is it I can help you with? Other than evoking your charming sense of chivalry.”

The man paused, bringing his hand to his chin as he eyed Antoine from head to toe. His eyes narrowed as he took note of the purposefully restrained anger in his tensed shoulders and clenched teeth; then he let out a satisfied huff before he pushed his jaw up and spoke.

“I own a station out in L.A. Folk, blues, that old-timey music. If they listen I’ll play it. Song gets enough plays then I’ve got an office where we can put that track on vinyl. For a cut. Of course. I was thinking that song of yours they talk about. House of the Rising Sun, is it?"

Antoine and Jo exchanged a look between them and the man held up his hand. “Now don’t you go making any deals by eye contact. Hosa told me how you two like to do that, just like he told me about that non-compete he had you sign. I’m not here to pull you off the tour. Finish your circuit, go on home, and then call me. We’ll work something out that benefits all four of us.”

He crossed the empty space between them, pointedly ignoring Antoine’s eye contact as he got closer. When he extended his hand, it was angled only in Jo’s direction, offering her a crisp white business card poised between his fingers like a cigarette. Without even a sideways glance, Jo took it from his hand.

They were in the car on the way back to the motor court by the time either of them brought it up. Antoine had barely spoken a word since they had left the bar. Now he was looking at the landscape, smoking yet another cigarette in silence. Jo had to imagine that he was thinking on the offer, although what there was to consider she could hardly imagine. Really, he was musing on the growing realization that if he hadn’t happened to be there when the offer was made, she would have already said yes. 

“So what do you think? You know I can’t do it without you.”

His response was gravely, like he was thinly suppressing his annoyance. “He said he doesn’t need an answer till we get home.”

“I mean why wait?” She could feel the impatience bubbling up inside of her. Till we get home. That was weeks and weeks away, and she was on the route. She could practically smell the ocean at the end of the line. “It’s radio. Los Angeles, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yeah and so what?” As he looked toward her the wind took his ash on the breeze, blowing it alongside the smoke into the night air behind him. “We came out here early because we were after a real stage, Jo. Well that sure as hell felt real to me tonight. It’s always gunna be something, isn’t it? The road doesn’t have an end.”

“Of course it does! What are you talking about? It ends in Los Angeles! And this is it! I mean - its California, Antoine! We can't turn this down!"

He turned away without answering her, facing back toward the desert landscape he had come to love more than the inside of any bar. He could care less what ocean waited for them at the end of this seemingly everlasting road. But what’s a stage when you can be on the radio, son? Do you know how far you’d be heard? No one would ever forget our song then. No one would forget you.

He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the antagonistic voice in his head that often rang out alongside the notes of the guitar. “Just - just give me a few weeks, okay? Let me get home. Talk to Zelda. Think on it.”

Jo looked back toward the horizon, the sudden silence making her realize just how genuine her words had been. I can't do it without you.

Because every mile she had taken to get here had been earned off his back and his songs, even if she was the one who had spun it into the success it was now. The deals, the suppressed anger, the fake flirtation - without him she was just some woman with sharp wit, a coy gaze, and a nebulous goal of success driven by the weakening conviction that it was all for her family. If she lost him she lost the deal. The car. Her entire life on the road. She would be back to working in the same bar with the same prospects in the same goddamn town.

And yet here she was only a few hundred miles away from the ocean at the end of the road. She was so close she could taste it, and there was no way she could imagine turning back now.

Previous / Next

[aheathen-conceivably]

Only a real stage had wings, and that was precisely where Jo was standing. She was watching Antoine’s performance - which was just as electric as it always was when he was holding a guitar in his hands; but she wasn’t listening to the notes from within the crowd or from some obfuscated table behind it. No. She was watching him from the wings of a stage. A real stage.

Beyond it, a crowd of dancing bodies moved in sync with every strum of his guitar. Wall to wall the way she remembered them packed into the club half a decade before - contorting together atop the parquet floorboards of her memory where their heeled shoes moved in time to the clashing of piano keys.

Hosa moved to stand beside her, peering out to take a glimpse at the crowd of dancing bodies she was studying. “I would say its going well, don’t you?”

Going well was an understatement. There was a line to enter the hall before it had even opened. The posters that Hosa had rush printed had done only half of the work. Have you seen him? That guitarist that’s been playing at George’s? Heard he’s from New Orleans. Heard if there’s a piano on stage he plays it too. Did he play that House of the Rising Sun when you saw him? Somebody told me he only plays it every other show so we’re going to the next one till we hear it.

Jo looked back at Hosa with a triumphant smile that he couldn’t help but emulate. “Stay put when he’s done, will you? There’s somebody I want you to meet.”

The sound of Antoine’s guitar had been replaced by the slow and steady sweep of a broom trying to clear the dust from the scratched wooden floor. Echoing out alongside it, from the wings of a stage that had just been the center of attention, was the sound of a man’s voice. It was deep and only subtly accented with an inflection that neither Jo nor Antoine had ever heard before.

"You know I must say, when Hosa told me his guitarist’s manager was a woman, I found it hard to believe. Never woulda’ thought a woman’s mind had the capacity to navigate business dealins’, of all things. And a negr -"

Antoine's left foot stepped forward, his hands tucked in his pockets in a way that said he was one breath away from taking them out. The heavy anger prompting his speech was low but clear, stopping the man’s speech in its tracks. “You finish that word and you can swallow it alongside your bloody teeth - "

His threat was undermined by the sound of Jo’s hand thumping against his chest. Despite the grunt Antoine managed to muffle, the man across the room had already begun to cower. Jo looked toward him in the most cajoling manner she could muster. “You must forgive my brother. Being his manager just means me looking after him. As you can see he looks after me too. Even does the business thinking for me when my mind gets in a womanly way.”

A high-pitched, nervous laugh cut through the tension. “Oh, she’s funny! Hosa! You never told me she was funny.”

She let him laugh off the cowardice in his posture, finding his footing again after he had stepped back from Antoine. Then she looked toward Antoine pointedly, as though ensuring that when she moved her hand away he wouldn’t attack. Please just smile, mon frère. Smile for the circus. For me. Please.

When he nodded she let it drop, looking back at the pair of men with slightly less lacquer in her voice. “Now what is it I can help you with? Other than evoking your charming sense of chivalry.”

The man paused, bringing his hand to his chin as he eyed Antoine from head to toe. His eyes narrowed as he took note of the purposefully restrained anger in his tensed shoulders and clenched teeth; then he let out a satisfied huff before he pushed his jaw up and spoke.

“I own a station out in L.A. Folk, blues, that old-timey music. If they listen I’ll play it. Song gets enough plays then I’ve got an office where we can put that track on vinyl. For a cut. Of course. I was thinking that song of yours they talk about. House of the Rising Sun, is it?"

Antoine and Jo exchanged a look between them and the man held up his hand. “Now don’t you go making any deals by eye contact. Hosa told me how you two like to do that, just like he told me about that non-compete he had you sign. I’m not here to pull you off the tour. Finish your circuit, go on home, and then call me. We’ll work something out that benefits all four of us.”

He crossed the empty space between them, pointedly ignoring Antoine’s eye contact as he got closer. When he extended his hand, it was angled only in Jo’s direction, offering her a crisp white business card poised between his fingers like a cigarette. Without even a sideways glance, Jo took it from his hand.

They were in the car on the way back to the motor court by the time either of them brought it up. Antoine had barely spoken a word since they had left the bar. Now he was looking at the landscape, smoking yet another cigarette in silence. Jo had to imagine that he was thinking on the offer, although what there was to consider she could hardly imagine. Really, he was musing on the growing realization that if he hadn’t happened to be there when the offer was made, she would have already said yes. 

“So what do you think? You know I can’t do it without you.”

His response was gravely, like he was thinly suppressing his annoyance. “He said he doesn’t need an answer till we get home.”

“I mean why wait?” She could feel the impatience bubbling up inside of her. Till we get home. That was weeks and weeks away, and she was on the route. She could practically smell the ocean at the end of the line. “It’s radio. Los Angeles, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yeah and so what?” As he looked toward her the wind took his ash on the breeze, blowing it alongside the smoke into the night air behind him. “We came out here early because we were after a real stage, Jo. Well that sure as hell felt real to me tonight. It’s always gunna be something, isn’t it? The road doesn’t have an end.”

“Of course it does! What are you talking about? It ends in Los Angeles! And this is it! I mean - its California, Antoine! We can't turn this down!"

He turned away without answering her, facing back toward the desert landscape he had come to love more than the inside of any bar. He could care less what ocean waited for them at the end of this seemingly everlasting road. But what’s a stage when you can be on the radio, son? Do you know how far you’d be heard? No one would ever forget our song then. No one would forget you.

He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the antagonistic voice in his head that often rang out alongside the notes of the guitar. “Just - just give me a few weeks, okay? Let me get home. Talk to Zelda. Think on it.”

Jo looked back toward the horizon, the sudden silence making her realize just how genuine her words had been. I can't do it without you.

Because every mile she had taken to get here had been earned off his back and his songs, even if she was the one who had spun it into the success it was now. The deals, the suppressed anger, the fake flirtation - without him she was just some woman with sharp wit, a coy gaze, and a nebulous goal of success driven by the weakening conviction that it was all for her family. If she lost him she lost the deal. The car. Her entire life on the road. She would be back to working in the same bar with the same prospects in the same goddamn town.

And yet here she was only a few hundred miles away from the ocean at the end of the road. She was so close she could taste it, and there was no way she could imagine turning back now.

Previous / Next

[aheathen-conceivably]

Only a real stage had wings, and that was precisely where Jo was standing. She was watching Antoine’s performance - which was just as electric as it always was when he was holding a guitar in his hands; but she wasn’t listening to the notes from within the crowd or from some obfuscated table behind it. No. She was watching him from the wings of a stage. A real stage.

Beyond it, a crowd of dancing bodies moved in sync with every strum of his guitar. Wall to wall the way she remembered them packed into the club half a decade before - contorting together atop the parquet floorboards of her memory where their heeled shoes moved in time to the clashing of piano keys.

Hosa moved to stand beside her, peering out to take a glimpse at the crowd of dancing bodies she was studying. “I would say its going well, don’t you?”

Going well was an understatement. There was a line to enter the hall before it had even opened. The posters that Hosa had rush printed had done only half of the work. Have you seen him? That guitarist that’s been playing at George’s? Heard he’s from New Orleans. Heard if there’s a piano on stage he plays it too. Did he play that House of the Rising Sun when you saw him? Somebody told me he only plays it every other show so we’re going to the next one till we hear it.

Jo looked back at Hosa with a triumphant smile that he couldn’t help but emulate. “Stay put when he’s done, will you? There’s somebody I want you to meet.”

The sound of Antoine’s guitar had been replaced by the slow and steady sweep of a broom trying to clear the dust from the scratched wooden floor. Echoing out alongside it, from the wings of a stage that had just been the center of attention, was the sound of a man’s voice. It was deep and only subtly accented with an inflection that neither Jo nor Antoine had ever heard before.

"You know I must say, when Hosa told me his guitarist’s manager was a woman, I found it hard to believe. Never woulda’ thought a woman’s mind had the capacity to navigate business dealins’, of all things. And a negr -"

Antoine's left foot stepped forward, his hands tucked in his pockets in a way that said he was one breath away from taking them out. The heavy anger prompting his speech was low but clear, stopping the man’s speech in its tracks. “You finish that word and you can swallow it alongside your bloody teeth - "

His threat was undermined by the sound of Jo’s hand thumping against his chest. Despite the grunt Antoine managed to muffle, the man across the room had already begun to cower. Jo looked toward him in the most cajoling manner she could muster. “You must forgive my brother. Being his manager just means me looking after him. As you can see he looks after me too. Even does the business thinking for me when my mind gets in a womanly way.”

A high-pitched, nervous laugh cut through the tension. “Oh, she’s funny! Hosa! You never told me she was funny.”

She let him laugh off the cowardice in his posture, finding his footing again after he had stepped back from Antoine. Then she looked toward Antoine pointedly, as though ensuring that when she moved her hand away he wouldn’t attack. Please just smile, mon frère. Smile for the circus. For me. Please.

When he nodded she let it drop, looking back at the pair of men with slightly less lacquer in her voice. “Now what is it I can help you with? Other than evoking your charming sense of chivalry.”

The man paused, bringing his hand to his chin as he eyed Antoine from head to toe. His eyes narrowed as he took note of the purposefully restrained anger in his tensed shoulders and clenched teeth; then he let out a satisfied huff before he pushed his jaw up and spoke.

“I own a station out in L.A. Folk, blues, that old-timey music. If they listen I’ll play it. Song gets enough plays then I’ve got an office where we can put that track on vinyl. For a cut. Of course. I was thinking that song of yours they talk about. House of the Rising Sun, is it?"

Antoine and Jo exchanged a look between them and the man held up his hand. “Now don’t you go making any deals by eye contact. Hosa told me how you two like to do that, just like he told me about that non-compete he had you sign. I’m not here to pull you off the tour. Finish your circuit, go on home, and then call me. We’ll work something out that benefits all four of us.”

He crossed the empty space between them, pointedly ignoring Antoine’s eye contact as he got closer. When he extended his hand, it was angled only in Jo’s direction, offering her a crisp white business card poised between his fingers like a cigarette. Without even a sideways glance, Jo took it from his hand.

They were in the car on the way back to the motor court by the time either of them brought it up. Antoine had barely spoken a word since they had left the bar. Now he was looking at the landscape, smoking yet another cigarette in silence. Jo had to imagine that he was thinking on the offer, although what there was to consider she could hardly imagine. Really, he was musing on the growing realization that if he hadn’t happened to be there when the offer was made, she would have already said yes. 

“So what do you think? You know I can’t do it without you.”

His response was gravely, like he was thinly suppressing his annoyance. “He said he doesn’t need an answer till we get home.”

“I mean why wait?” She could feel the impatience bubbling up inside of her. Till we get home. That was weeks and weeks away, and she was on the route. She could practically smell the ocean at the end of the line. “It’s radio. Los Angeles, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yeah and so what?” As he looked toward her the wind took his ash on the breeze, blowing it alongside the smoke into the night air behind him. “We came out here early because we were after a real stage, Jo. Well that sure as hell felt real to me tonight. It’s always gunna be something, isn’t it? The road doesn’t have an end.”

“Of course it does! What are you talking about? It ends in Los Angeles! And this is it! I mean - its California, Antoine! We can't turn this down!"

He turned away without answering her, facing back toward the desert landscape he had come to love more than the inside of any bar. He could care less what ocean waited for them at the end of this seemingly everlasting road. But what’s a stage when you can be on the radio, son? Do you know how far you’d be heard? No one would ever forget our song then. No one would forget you.

He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the antagonistic voice in his head that often rang out alongside the notes of the guitar. “Just - just give me a few weeks, okay? Let me get home. Talk to Zelda. Think on it.”

Jo looked back toward the horizon, the sudden silence making her realize just how genuine her words had been. I can't do it without you.

Because every mile she had taken to get here had been earned off his back and his songs, even if she was the one who had spun it into the success it was now. The deals, the suppressed anger, the fake flirtation - without him she was just some woman with sharp wit, a coy gaze, and a nebulous goal of success driven by the weakening conviction that it was all for her family. If she lost him she lost the deal. The car. Her entire life on the road. She would be back to working in the same bar with the same prospects in the same goddamn town.

And yet here she was only a few hundred miles away from the ocean at the end of the road. She was so close she could taste it, and there was no way she could imagine turning back now.

Previous / Next

[aheathen-conceivably]

"I'm runnin' back into the burning house..." > burning house by julia wolf

[aheathen-conceivably]

Only a real stage had wings, and that was precisely where Jo was standing. She was watching Antoine’s performance - which was just as electric as it always was when he was holding a guitar in his hands; but she wasn’t listening to the notes from within the crowd or from some obfuscated table behind it. No. She was watching him from the wings of a stage. A real stage.

Beyond it, a crowd of dancing bodies moved in sync with every strum of his guitar. Wall to wall the way she remembered them packed into the club half a decade before - contorting together atop the parquet floorboards of her memory where their heeled shoes moved in time to the clashing of piano keys.

Hosa moved to stand beside her, peering out to take a glimpse at the crowd of dancing bodies she was studying. “I would say its going well, don’t you?”

Going well was an understatement. There was a line to enter the hall before it had even opened. The posters that Hosa had rush printed had done only half of the work. Have you seen him? That guitarist that’s been playing at George’s? Heard he’s from New Orleans. Heard if there’s a piano on stage he plays it too. Did he play that House of the Rising Sun when you saw him? Somebody told me he only plays it every other show so we’re going to the next one till we hear it.

Jo looked back at Hosa with a triumphant smile that he couldn’t help but emulate. “Stay put when he’s done, will you? There’s somebody I want you to meet.”

The sound of Antoine’s guitar had been replaced by the slow and steady sweep of a broom trying to clear the dust from the scratched wooden floor. Echoing out alongside it, from the wings of a stage that had just been the center of attention, was the sound of a man’s voice. It was deep and only subtly accented with an inflection that neither Jo nor Antoine had ever heard before.

"You know I must say, when Hosa told me his guitarist’s manager was a woman, I found it hard to believe. Never woulda’ thought a woman’s mind had the capacity to navigate business dealins’, of all things. And a negr -"

Antoine's left foot stepped forward, his hands tucked in his pockets in a way that said he was one breath away from taking them out. The heavy anger prompting his speech was low but clear, stopping the man’s speech in its tracks. “You finish that word and you can swallow it alongside your bloody teeth - "

His threat was undermined by the sound of Jo’s hand thumping against his chest. Despite the grunt Antoine managed to muffle, the man across the room had already begun to cower. Jo looked toward him in the most cajoling manner she could muster. “You must forgive my brother. Being his manager just means me looking after him. As you can see he looks after me too. Even does the business thinking for me when my mind gets in a womanly way.”

A high-pitched, nervous laugh cut through the tension. “Oh, she’s funny! Hosa! You never told me she was funny.”

She let him laugh off the cowardice in his posture, finding his footing again after he had stepped back from Antoine. Then she looked toward Antoine pointedly, as though ensuring that when she moved her hand away he wouldn’t attack. Please just smile, mon frère. Smile for the circus. For me. Please.

When he nodded she let it drop, looking back at the pair of men with slightly less lacquer in her voice. “Now what is it I can help you with? Other than evoking your charming sense of chivalry.”

The man paused, bringing his hand to his chin as he eyed Antoine from head to toe. His eyes narrowed as he took note of the purposefully restrained anger in his tensed shoulders and clenched teeth; then he let out a satisfied huff before he pushed his jaw up and spoke.

“I own a station out in L.A. Folk, blues, that old-timey music. If they listen I’ll play it. Song gets enough plays then I’ve got an office where we can put that track on vinyl. For a cut. Of course. I was thinking that song of yours they talk about. House of the Rising Sun, is it?"

Antoine and Jo exchanged a look between them and the man held up his hand. “Now don’t you go making any deals by eye contact. Hosa told me how you two like to do that, just like he told me about that non-compete he had you sign. I’m not here to pull you off the tour. Finish your circuit, go on home, and then call me. We’ll work something out that benefits all four of us.”

He crossed the empty space between them, pointedly ignoring Antoine’s eye contact as he got closer. When he extended his hand, it was angled only in Jo’s direction, offering her a crisp white business card poised between his fingers like a cigarette. Without even a sideways glance, Jo took it from his hand.

They were in the car on the way back to the motor court by the time either of them brought it up. Antoine had barely spoken a word since they had left the bar. Now he was looking at the landscape, smoking yet another cigarette in silence. Jo had to imagine that he was thinking on the offer, although what there was to consider she could hardly imagine. Really, he was musing on the growing realization that if he hadn’t happened to be there when the offer was made, she would have already said yes. 

“So what do you think? You know I can’t do it without you.”

His response was gravely, like he was thinly suppressing his annoyance. “He said he doesn’t need an answer till we get home.”

“I mean why wait?” She could feel the impatience bubbling up inside of her. Till we get home. That was weeks and weeks away, and she was on the route. She could practically smell the ocean at the end of the line. “It’s radio. Los Angeles, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yeah and so what?” As he looked toward her the wind took his ash on the breeze, blowing it alongside the smoke into the night air behind him. “We came out here early because we were after a real stage, Jo. Well that sure as hell felt real to me tonight. It’s always gunna be something, isn’t it? The road doesn’t have an end.”

“Of course it does! What are you talking about? It ends in Los Angeles! And this is it! I mean - its California, Antoine! We can't turn this down!"

He turned away without answering her, facing back toward the desert landscape he had come to love more than the inside of any bar. He could care less what ocean waited for them at the end of this seemingly everlasting road. But what’s a stage when you can be on the radio, son? Do you know how far you’d be heard? No one would ever forget our song then. No one would forget you.

He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the antagonistic voice in his head that often rang out alongside the notes of the guitar. “Just - just give me a few weeks, okay? Let me get home. Talk to Zelda. Think on it.”

Jo looked back toward the horizon, the sudden silence making her realize just how genuine her words had been. I can't do it without you.

Because every mile she had taken to get here had been earned off his back and his songs, even if she was the one who had spun it into the success it was now. The deals, the suppressed anger, the fake flirtation - without him she was just some woman with sharp wit, a coy gaze, and a nebulous goal of success driven by the weakening conviction that it was all for her family. If she lost him she lost the deal. The car. Her entire life on the road. She would be back to working in the same bar with the same prospects in the same goddamn town.

And yet here she was only a few hundred miles away from the ocean at the end of the road. She was so close she could taste it, and there was no way she could imagine turning back now.

Previous / Next

[aheathen-conceivably]

Previously on The Darlingtons....

The year 1936 began with Jo and Antoine going back on the road, leaving Giorgio at home with a growing depression and the fear that he had not only failed in his dreams out West - but also in his relationship with Josephine.

Uncertain of the future and disgusted with the present, he takes comfort in memories - reliving the early years of he and Jo's relationship during the 1920s. Spiraling from 1924 to the present day, we see how Gio and Jo came to live together, and how their relationship descended from something unencumbered and passionate to power-driven and tension filled. When Gio reemerges into the year 1936, hoping that Jo has returned home, he's left with the knowledge that all of his plans and calculations have failed, and that he's once again living by Josephine's rules.

Simultaneously, Zelda's career begins to blossom. Her new employer Alexander takes her to an abandoned Victorian manor that he has selected as a potential site for a future library. Seeking her opinion on it, he shows her the once impressive grounds while explaining that he thinks the cost of refurbishment will be worth it to highlight the reach of the federal Works Project Administration.

While Zelda agrees, she also sees something else in the abandoned manor. From the crumbling greenhouse to the littered rooms, she senses the personal and emotional appeal of the home - implanting her own memories into the vacuous space as a placeholder for the people she imagines once lived there. Her heartfelt endorsement of the place is tinged with her desire to preserve - both the home itself but also her own memories and a connection to her past that she otherwise feels is slipping away.

Out on the road, Antoine and Josephine's professional lives also continue to improve. After another successful show, Antoine joins Jo at her table where she introduces him to a rival bar owner named George. Operating on Jo's guidance that “this is how you make it,” Antoine pushes past his reservations to network with the man as Jo continues to identify and subtly exploit his weaknesses.

Growing more aware of her tactics, Antoine continues to grow uncomfortable, coming dangerously close to the realization that Jo is reminding him of their mother. Interrupting his feelings, the man offers Antoine a slate of shows at his dance halls, directly conflicting with the handshake deal Jo had previously made with Hosa. Even less appealing to Antoine, saying yes would extend his time on the road and away from his family. But seeing how genuinely his sister wants this, and worried that if he turns her down she would simply find a new artist to represent, he ultimately acquises on the caveat that they be home in time for his daughter Violette's birthday.

When Antoine and Jo return home, Violette is in the stables with her horse Ozma, a previous gift from her father to try and make up for his long absences. She is enjoying the silence of the barn and pointedly avoiding sharing space with her mother, whose rules and melancholia grate at Violette’s burgeoning independent, vivacious personality. She is so anxious for her father’s return that the moment she hears the car door open, she rushes to the farmyard to meet him.

Running right into his arms, Violette is initially giddy at his return. Her excitement only increases when he tells her that he’s taking them to the circus to celebrate her twelfth birthday. However, her joy soon fades as her mother Zelda appears on the porch, taking Antoine’s attention away from her. As he walks away Violette sees his thinly veiled exhaustion - realizing just how little time and attention he has to give, and feeling like the brief moments when he’s there ultimately only leave her feeling even more lonely once he’s gone.

The next day, the whole family travels from Strangerville to a circus in a neighboring town. Violette is immediately entranced by the magical sight - full of lights and activity just like the life she’s beginning to imagine for herself. Her wonder only grows when the family goes inside the circus tent - watching one act after another with stars in her eyes. Her attention flickers between the acts to the crowd, basking in the energy of their collective reactions and wondering what the performers must feel like at the center of their attention.

The show culminates when an acrobat descends from the ceiling. Violette looks toward her mother, recognizing that both she and the woman performing share a magnetizing talent that gives them a magic all their own. She notices her father look at her mother too, realizing that he sees the same thing that she does. Turning back toward the acrobat, Violette muses on how that type of beauty and talent can be hidden and treasured for a select few, or used to awe and control a whole crowd of people. Violette vows that that is what she wants - not just one person’s love, but a whole crowd’s adoration.

Back at the site of the future library, Zelda has begun to settle into her new professional life. We see her in conference with the project foreman, who’s looking to her for confirmation on everything from purchase numbers to the order in which things are completed. When Alexander enters the room, she seems to momentarily second-guess her new-found leadership, but swiftly regains her footing with his encouragement.

Alexander then takes her upstairs where he’s been working on the office for Library Administration. While there, he tells her that he’s leaving the day to day operation in her hands, as the WPA has chosen to open an office in town and has selected him to survey the region for potential projects and hire workers. In return for all her hard work and belief in the project, he tells her that if she knows of anyone in need of work he would be glad to hire them for infrastructure projects. Zelda looks away, picturing Gio in the dying fields.

At home the next day, Antoine and Zelda look out their living room window, discussing which one of them should tell Giorgio about the WPA job. Although Antoine offers to do so, he ultimately tells Zelda that it would be easier for him to hear the news from her - in part simply because she’s a woman, but also because she had stood there in the fields with him for so long.

When Zelda emerges into the field, Gio seems to not only be aware of her presence, but also of the fact that she’s there to tell him it’s time to leave the field and his dreams to die. As she informs him of the job he’s distant and morose, ultimately only coming back to life once Zelda grabs his hand. Even after accepting the job he seems unwilling to move, explaining that he just wants a few more hours to believe in the possibility.

Looking sideways at the dead stalks, Zelda is overcome with emotion not only for him, but for her own dreams of having another child that she had abandoned in the field months ago too. She pulls him into an embrace both for his loss and her own, unaware that Antoine is still watching them from the window.

Later that night, Josephine emerges from the farmhouse in search of Gio. She finds him sitting amongst the dead crops, still unwilling to move but now in a dark mood. Jo senses it in the air, cautiously approaching the cornfield and trying coax him out of it rather than join him there. Instead he plants himself deeper in the dirt, challenging her on the promise she had made that she would sell him back his shares of the farm when he had the money.

At first she nervously attempts to dance around the question, but eventually becomes combative. He attempts to rebuff her arguments, rising from the ground to stand on equal footing with her for the first time in months; but she shoots him down with the one line she knows will cut him deepest. I’m not your wife either.

Suddenly guilt ridden by her own rancor, Jo walks into the corn field to comfort him. As she reaches him, her genuine love and emotion manifest not only in her relief that he doesn’t move away, but also in her uncharacteristic desire to wash away his failure through self-sacrifice. It’s only with her encouragement that he finally manages to walk away from the corn field, even if her tenderness does make him momentarily forget that she never answered if she would sell him back his shares.

As the weeks pass and the corn is cut back, grief settles over Gio and Zelda. While their partners try to support them, Josephine eventually begins to lose patience with the situation. Counting down the days until she can go back on the road, she’s caught by surprise one day when Hosa Grove visits their house. Spurred by the deal Jo had previously made with his competitor, he asks Antoine to play at the opening of his dance hall. Even though this means that he and Jo would have to leave home weeks early, Jo says yes without consulting Antoine.

Gio, having witnessed the deal, immediately confronts Jo over her betrayal of Antoine. But Jo approaches the argument just like she did her dealings with Hosa - planning her retorts to work in her best interest rather than actually addressing his concerns. In particular she’s trying to avoid him asking her to sell him back his shares again; however, her cool momentarily slips when he brings up Violette, and she realizes the validity of his argument.

But rather than accept that her guiding principles and self-perception have begun to warp, Jo turns the mirror back onto Gio, exploiting his insecurities and need for comfort to quiet him into submission. Pulling him down to kiss her, she doesn’t even realize that the line between truth and her manipulations has completely blurred.

As Jo and Antoine return to the road, the house is left in turmoil. Gio has begun work with the WPA, although he finds it unfulfilling and exhausting, while Zelda is left trying to parent her increasingly distant daughter alone. Distraught by her father’s sudden departure, Violette is directing all of her frustration toward her mother - arguing that because Antoine left before they could go riding, she should be allowed to go alone. Recognizing the hurt and validity in her daughter’s statement, Zelda struggles to answer; but as their argument had taken them outside, Gio overhears it. Driven mainly by his own guilt for not stopping Jo from leaving, he offers to go riding with Violette.

But Violette immediately rebukes him and the lingering emotional intimacy she can sense between him and her mother - shouting that he can’t replace her father. After she is made to apologize, Violette storms back into the house, leaving Zelda alone with Gio. Overcome with emotion, she expresses just how difficult she sometimes finds interacting with Violette - something she has never even told Antoine. A bit flustered, Gio attempts to comfort her the way she’s always done for him, ultimately drawing them closer together as they rely on eachother in small, domestic ways as they find their partners gone more and more.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Previously on The Darlingtons....

The year 1936 began with Jo and Antoine going back on the road, leaving Giorgio at home with a growing depression and the fear that he had not only failed in his dreams out West - but also in his relationship with Josephine.

Uncertain of the future and disgusted with the present, he takes comfort in memories - reliving the early years of he and Jo's relationship during the 1920s. Spiraling from 1924 to the present day, we see how Gio and Jo came to live together, and how their relationship descended from something unencumbered and passionate to power-driven and tension filled. When Gio reemerges into the year 1936, hoping that Jo has returned home, he's left with the knowledge that all of his plans and calculations have failed, and that he's once again living by Josephine's rules.

Simultaneously, Zelda's career begins to blossom. Her new employer Alexander takes her to an abandoned Victorian manor that he has selected as a potential site for a future library. Seeking her opinion on it, he shows her the once impressive grounds while explaining that he thinks the cost of refurbishment will be worth it to highlight the reach of the federal Works Project Administration.

While Zelda agrees, she also sees something else in the abandoned manor. From the crumbling greenhouse to the littered rooms, she senses the personal and emotional appeal of the home - implanting her own memories into the vacuous space as a placeholder for the people she imagines once lived there. Her heartfelt endorsement of the place is tinged with her desire to preserve - both the home itself but also her own memories and a connection to her past that she otherwise feels is slipping away.

Out on the road, Antoine and Josephine's professional lives also continue to improve. After another successful show, Antoine joins Jo at her table where she introduces him to a rival bar owner named George. Operating on Jo's guidance that “this is how you make it,” Antoine pushes past his reservations to network with the man as Jo continues to identify and subtly exploit his weaknesses.

Growing more aware of her tactics, Antoine continues to grow uncomfortable, coming dangerously close to the realization that Jo is reminding him of their mother. Interrupting his feelings, the man offers Antoine a slate of shows at his dance halls, directly conflicting with the handshake deal Jo had previously made with Hosa. Even less appealing to Antoine, saying yes would extend his time on the road and away from his family. But seeing how genuinely his sister wants this, and worried that if he turns her down she would simply find a new artist to represent, he ultimately acquises on the caveat that they be home in time for his daughter Violette's birthday.

When Antoine and Jo return home, Violette is in the stables with her horse Ozma, a previous gift from her father to try and make up for his long absences. She is enjoying the silence of the barn and pointedly avoiding sharing space with her mother, whose rules and melancholia grate at Violette’s burgeoning independent, vivacious personality. She is so anxious for her father’s return that the moment she hears the car door open, she rushes to the farmyard to meet him.

Running right into his arms, Violette is initially giddy at his return. Her excitement only increases when he tells her that he’s taking them to the circus to celebrate her twelfth birthday. However, her joy soon fades as her mother Zelda appears on the porch, taking Antoine’s attention away from her. As he walks away Violette sees his thinly veiled exhaustion - realizing just how little time and attention he has to give, and feeling like the brief moments when he’s there ultimately only leave her feeling even more lonely once he’s gone.

The next day, the whole family travels from Strangerville to a circus in a neighboring town. Violette is immediately entranced by the magical sight - full of lights and activity just like the life she’s beginning to imagine for herself. Her wonder only grows when the family goes inside the circus tent - watching one act after another with stars in her eyes. Her attention flickers between the acts to the crowd, basking in the energy of their collective reactions and wondering what the performers must feel like at the center of their attention.

The show culminates when an acrobat descends from the ceiling. Violette looks toward her mother, recognizing that both she and the woman performing share a magnetizing talent that gives them a magic all their own. She notices her father look at her mother too, realizing that he sees the same thing that she does. Turning back toward the acrobat, Violette muses on how that type of beauty and talent can be hidden and treasured for a select few, or used to awe and control a whole crowd of people. Violette vows that that is what she wants - not just one person’s love, but a whole crowd’s adoration.

Back at the site of the future library, Zelda has begun to settle into her new professional life. We see her in conference with the project foreman, who’s looking to her for confirmation on everything from purchase numbers to the order in which things are completed. When Alexander enters the room, she seems to momentarily second-guess her new-found leadership, but swiftly regains her footing with his encouragement.

Alexander then takes her upstairs where he’s been working on the office for Library Administration. While there, he tells her that he’s leaving the day to day operation in her hands, as the WPA has chosen to open an office in town and has selected him to survey the region for potential projects and hire workers. In return for all her hard work and belief in the project, he tells her that if she knows of anyone in need of work he would be glad to hire them for infrastructure projects. Zelda looks away, picturing Gio in the dying fields.

At home the next day, Antoine and Zelda look out their living room window, discussing which one of them should tell Giorgio about the WPA job. Although Antoine offers to do so, he ultimately tells Zelda that it would be easier for him to hear the news from her - in part simply because she’s a woman, but also because she had stood there in the fields with him for so long.

When Zelda emerges into the field, Gio seems to not only be aware of her presence, but also of the fact that she’s there to tell him it’s time to leave the field and his dreams to die. As she informs him of the job he’s distant and morose, ultimately only coming back to life once Zelda grabs his hand. Even after accepting the job he seems unwilling to move, explaining that he just wants a few more hours to believe in the possibility.

Looking sideways at the dead stalks, Zelda is overcome with emotion not only for him, but for her own dreams of having another child that she had abandoned in the field months ago too. She pulls him into an embrace both for his loss and her own, unaware that Antoine is still watching them from the window.

Later that night, Josephine emerges from the farmhouse in search of Gio. She finds him sitting amongst the dead crops, still unwilling to move but now in a dark mood. Jo senses it in the air, cautiously approaching the cornfield and trying coax him out of it rather than join him there. Instead he plants himself deeper in the dirt, challenging her on the promise she had made that she would sell him back his shares of the farm when he had the money.

At first she nervously attempts to dance around the question, but eventually becomes combative. He attempts to rebuff her arguments, rising from the ground to stand on equal footing with her for the first time in months; but she shoots him down with the one line she knows will cut him deepest. I’m not your wife either.

Suddenly guilt ridden by her own rancor, Jo walks into the corn field to comfort him. As she reaches him, her genuine love and emotion manifest not only in her relief that he doesn’t move away, but also in her uncharacteristic desire to wash away his failure through self-sacrifice. It’s only with her encouragement that he finally manages to walk away from the corn field, even if her tenderness does make him momentarily forget that she never answered if she would sell him back his shares.

As the weeks pass and the corn is cut back, grief settles over Gio and Zelda. While their partners try to support them, Josephine eventually begins to lose patience with the situation. Counting down the days until she can go back on the road, she’s caught by surprise one day when Hosa Grove visits their house. Spurred by the deal Jo had previously made with his competitor, he asks Antoine to play at the opening of his dance hall. Even though this means that he and Jo would have to leave home weeks early, Jo says yes without consulting Antoine.

Gio, having witnessed the deal, immediately confronts Jo over her betrayal of Antoine. But Jo approaches the argument just like she did her dealings with Hosa - planning her retorts to work in her best interest rather than actually addressing his concerns. In particular she’s trying to avoid him asking her to sell him back his shares again; however, her cool momentarily slips when he brings up Violette, and she realizes the validity of his argument.

But rather than accept that her guiding principles and self-perception have begun to warp, Jo turns the mirror back onto Gio, exploiting his insecurities and need for comfort to quiet him into submission. Pulling him down to kiss her, she doesn’t even realize that the line between truth and her manipulations has completely blurred.

As Jo and Antoine return to the road, the house is left in turmoil. Gio has begun work with the WPA, although he finds it unfulfilling and exhausting, while Zelda is left trying to parent her increasingly distant daughter alone. Distraught by her father’s sudden departure, Violette is directing all of her frustration toward her mother - arguing that because Antoine left before they could go riding, she should be allowed to go alone. Recognizing the hurt and validity in her daughter’s statement, Zelda struggles to answer; but as their argument had taken them outside, Gio overhears it. Driven mainly by his own guilt for not stopping Jo from leaving, he offers to go riding with Violette.

But Violette immediately rebukes him and the lingering emotional intimacy she can sense between him and her mother - shouting that he can’t replace her father. After she is made to apologize, Violette storms back into the house, leaving Zelda alone with Gio. Overcome with emotion, she expresses just how difficult she sometimes finds interacting with Violette - something she has never even told Antoine. A bit flustered, Gio attempts to comfort her the way she’s always done for him, ultimately drawing them closer together as they rely on eachother in small, domestic ways as they find their partners gone more and more.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Windenburg, January 10th, 1890

Dear Annie,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that the new year has been kind to you so far. I write to you from our new home, it's small, the floorboards creak like old knees, and it smells like damp but it's ours, Annie ours, there's a tiny patch of garden out back where I hope to grow a few herbs come spring. We were only able to afford it with a generous loan from Matthew's aunt jeanette, bless her, though I do worry how long it will take us to repay it.

We moved in just over a Fortnight ago just after some heavy snow the street was slick with sleet, Matthew carried in the trunk with both hands like it held the holy grail (though it was only some linens and an old teapot).

It still strange to wake up naturally instead of having to wake up at the break of dawn, I keep expecting someone to come in and tell me to get on with lighting the fires or sweep the carpets, often I find myself crawling back into bed after Making Matthew breakfast and seeing him off to work

The days are long and quiet, too quiet most days with Matthew working at the firm all day and then out performing in various pubs in the evening. So I try to keep myself busy I've scrubbed the floors in the kitchen too many times than I can count.

I'd be glad for your news, when you've time to write. Even hearing of your chores or any news about my replacement up at the big house would be a comfort to me. Sometimes in the evening when the silence settles in thick I catch myself talking to the kettle or the cat that sits on our back wall as if it belongs to me.

Give your mother my regards when you next see her, and take care of yourself in this cold.

With love and fondness,

Ruth Oakley (can you believe it?)

[aheathen-conceivably]

Previously on The Darlingtons....

The year 1936 began with Jo and Antoine going back on the road, leaving Giorgio at home with a growing depression and the fear that he had not only failed in his dreams out West - but also in his relationship with Josephine.

Uncertain of the future and disgusted with the present, he takes comfort in memories - reliving the early years of he and Jo's relationship during the 1920s. Spiraling from 1924 to the present day, we see how Gio and Jo came to live together, and how their relationship descended from something unencumbered and passionate to power-driven and tension filled. When Gio reemerges into the year 1936, hoping that Jo has returned home, he's left with the knowledge that all of his plans and calculations have failed, and that he's once again living by Josephine's rules.

Simultaneously, Zelda's career begins to blossom. Her new employer Alexander takes her to an abandoned Victorian manor that he has selected as a potential site for a future library. Seeking her opinion on it, he shows her the once impressive grounds while explaining that he thinks the cost of refurbishment will be worth it to highlight the reach of the federal Works Project Administration.

While Zelda agrees, she also sees something else in the abandoned manor. From the crumbling greenhouse to the littered rooms, she senses the personal and emotional appeal of the home - implanting her own memories into the vacuous space as a placeholder for the people she imagines once lived there. Her heartfelt endorsement of the place is tinged with her desire to preserve - both the home itself but also her own memories and a connection to her past that she otherwise feels is slipping away.

Out on the road, Antoine and Josephine's professional lives also continue to improve. After another successful show, Antoine joins Jo at her table where she introduces him to a rival bar owner named George. Operating on Jo's guidance that “this is how you make it,” Antoine pushes past his reservations to network with the man as Jo continues to identify and subtly exploit his weaknesses.

Growing more aware of her tactics, Antoine continues to grow uncomfortable, coming dangerously close to the realization that Jo is reminding him of their mother. Interrupting his feelings, the man offers Antoine a slate of shows at his dance halls, directly conflicting with the handshake deal Jo had previously made with Hosa. Even less appealing to Antoine, saying yes would extend his time on the road and away from his family. But seeing how genuinely his sister wants this, and worried that if he turns her down she would simply find a new artist to represent, he ultimately acquises on the caveat that they be home in time for his daughter Violette's birthday.

When Antoine and Jo return home, Violette is in the stables with her horse Ozma, a previous gift from her father to try and make up for his long absences. She is enjoying the silence of the barn and pointedly avoiding sharing space with her mother, whose rules and melancholia grate at Violette’s burgeoning independent, vivacious personality. She is so anxious for her father’s return that the moment she hears the car door open, she rushes to the farmyard to meet him.

Running right into his arms, Violette is initially giddy at his return. Her excitement only increases when he tells her that he’s taking them to the circus to celebrate her twelfth birthday. However, her joy soon fades as her mother Zelda appears on the porch, taking Antoine’s attention away from her. As he walks away Violette sees his thinly veiled exhaustion - realizing just how little time and attention he has to give, and feeling like the brief moments when he’s there ultimately only leave her feeling even more lonely once he’s gone.

The next day, the whole family travels from Strangerville to a circus in a neighboring town. Violette is immediately entranced by the magical sight - full of lights and activity just like the life she’s beginning to imagine for herself. Her wonder only grows when the family goes inside the circus tent - watching one act after another with stars in her eyes. Her attention flickers between the acts to the crowd, basking in the energy of their collective reactions and wondering what the performers must feel like at the center of their attention.

The show culminates when an acrobat descends from the ceiling. Violette looks toward her mother, recognizing that both she and the woman performing share a magnetizing talent that gives them a magic all their own. She notices her father look at her mother too, realizing that he sees the same thing that she does. Turning back toward the acrobat, Violette muses on how that type of beauty and talent can be hidden and treasured for a select few, or used to awe and control a whole crowd of people. Violette vows that that is what she wants - not just one person’s love, but a whole crowd’s adoration.

Back at the site of the future library, Zelda has begun to settle into her new professional life. We see her in conference with the project foreman, who’s looking to her for confirmation on everything from purchase numbers to the order in which things are completed. When Alexander enters the room, she seems to momentarily second-guess her new-found leadership, but swiftly regains her footing with his encouragement.

Alexander then takes her upstairs where he’s been working on the office for Library Administration. While there, he tells her that he’s leaving the day to day operation in her hands, as the WPA has chosen to open an office in town and has selected him to survey the region for potential projects and hire workers. In return for all her hard work and belief in the project, he tells her that if she knows of anyone in need of work he would be glad to hire them for infrastructure projects. Zelda looks away, picturing Gio in the dying fields.

At home the next day, Antoine and Zelda look out their living room window, discussing which one of them should tell Giorgio about the WPA job. Although Antoine offers to do so, he ultimately tells Zelda that it would be easier for him to hear the news from her - in part simply because she’s a woman, but also because she had stood there in the fields with him for so long.

When Zelda emerges into the field, Gio seems to not only be aware of her presence, but also of the fact that she’s there to tell him it’s time to leave the field and his dreams to die. As she informs him of the job he’s distant and morose, ultimately only coming back to life once Zelda grabs his hand. Even after accepting the job he seems unwilling to move, explaining that he just wants a few more hours to believe in the possibility.

Looking sideways at the dead stalks, Zelda is overcome with emotion not only for him, but for her own dreams of having another child that she had abandoned in the field months ago too. She pulls him into an embrace both for his loss and her own, unaware that Antoine is still watching them from the window.

Later that night, Josephine emerges from the farmhouse in search of Gio. She finds him sitting amongst the dead crops, still unwilling to move but now in a dark mood. Jo senses it in the air, cautiously approaching the cornfield and trying coax him out of it rather than join him there. Instead he plants himself deeper in the dirt, challenging her on the promise she had made that she would sell him back his shares of the farm when he had the money.

At first she nervously attempts to dance around the question, but eventually becomes combative. He attempts to rebuff her arguments, rising from the ground to stand on equal footing with her for the first time in months; but she shoots him down with the one line she knows will cut him deepest. I’m not your wife either.

Suddenly guilt ridden by her own rancor, Jo walks into the corn field to comfort him. As she reaches him, her genuine love and emotion manifest not only in her relief that he doesn’t move away, but also in her uncharacteristic desire to wash away his failure through self-sacrifice. It’s only with her encouragement that he finally manages to walk away from the corn field, even if her tenderness does make him momentarily forget that she never answered if she would sell him back his shares.

As the weeks pass and the corn is cut back, grief settles over Gio and Zelda. While their partners try to support them, Josephine eventually begins to lose patience with the situation. Counting down the days until she can go back on the road, she’s caught by surprise one day when Hosa Grove visits their house. Spurred by the deal Jo had previously made with his competitor, he asks Antoine to play at the opening of his dance hall. Even though this means that he and Jo would have to leave home weeks early, Jo says yes without consulting Antoine.

Gio, having witnessed the deal, immediately confronts Jo over her betrayal of Antoine. But Jo approaches the argument just like she did her dealings with Hosa - planning her retorts to work in her best interest rather than actually addressing his concerns. In particular she’s trying to avoid him asking her to sell him back his shares again; however, her cool momentarily slips when he brings up Violette, and she realizes the validity of his argument.

But rather than accept that her guiding principles and self-perception have begun to warp, Jo turns the mirror back onto Gio, exploiting his insecurities and need for comfort to quiet him into submission. Pulling him down to kiss her, she doesn’t even realize that the line between truth and her manipulations has completely blurred.

As Jo and Antoine return to the road, the house is left in turmoil. Gio has begun work with the WPA, although he finds it unfulfilling and exhausting, while Zelda is left trying to parent her increasingly distant daughter alone. Distraught by her father’s sudden departure, Violette is directing all of her frustration toward her mother - arguing that because Antoine left before they could go riding, she should be allowed to go alone. Recognizing the hurt and validity in her daughter’s statement, Zelda struggles to answer; but as their argument had taken them outside, Gio overhears it. Driven mainly by his own guilt for not stopping Jo from leaving, he offers to go riding with Violette.

But Violette immediately rebukes him and the lingering emotional intimacy she can sense between him and her mother - shouting that he can’t replace her father. After she is made to apologize, Violette storms back into the house, leaving Zelda alone with Gio. Overcome with emotion, she expresses just how difficult she sometimes finds interacting with Violette - something she has never even told Antoine. A bit flustered, Gio attempts to comfort her the way she’s always done for him, ultimately drawing them closer together as they rely on eachother in small, domestic ways as they find their partners gone more and more.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Iliescu family, 1850 :)

Hello everyone! I'm almost ready to start my decades challenge with them!

[aheathen-conceivably]

Buck <3

[aheathen-conceivably]

Previously on The Darlingtons....

The year 1936 began with Jo and Antoine going back on the road, leaving Giorgio at home with a growing depression and the fear that he had not only failed in his dreams out West - but also in his relationship with Josephine.

Uncertain of the future and disgusted with the present, he takes comfort in memories - reliving the early years of he and Jo's relationship during the 1920s. Spiraling from 1924 to the present day, we see how Gio and Jo came to live together, and how their relationship descended from something unencumbered and passionate to power-driven and tension filled. When Gio reemerges into the year 1936, hoping that Jo has returned home, he's left with the knowledge that all of his plans and calculations have failed, and that he's once again living by Josephine's rules.

Simultaneously, Zelda's career begins to blossom. Her new employer Alexander takes her to an abandoned Victorian manor that he has selected as a potential site for a future library. Seeking her opinion on it, he shows her the once impressive grounds while explaining that he thinks the cost of refurbishment will be worth it to highlight the reach of the federal Works Project Administration.

While Zelda agrees, she also sees something else in the abandoned manor. From the crumbling greenhouse to the littered rooms, she senses the personal and emotional appeal of the home - implanting her own memories into the vacuous space as a placeholder for the people she imagines once lived there. Her heartfelt endorsement of the place is tinged with her desire to preserve - both the home itself but also her own memories and a connection to her past that she otherwise feels is slipping away.

Out on the road, Antoine and Josephine's professional lives also continue to improve. After another successful show, Antoine joins Jo at her table where she introduces him to a rival bar owner named George. Operating on Jo's guidance that “this is how you make it,” Antoine pushes past his reservations to network with the man as Jo continues to identify and subtly exploit his weaknesses.

Growing more aware of her tactics, Antoine continues to grow uncomfortable, coming dangerously close to the realization that Jo is reminding him of their mother. Interrupting his feelings, the man offers Antoine a slate of shows at his dance halls, directly conflicting with the handshake deal Jo had previously made with Hosa. Even less appealing to Antoine, saying yes would extend his time on the road and away from his family. But seeing how genuinely his sister wants this, and worried that if he turns her down she would simply find a new artist to represent, he ultimately acquises on the caveat that they be home in time for his daughter Violette's birthday.

When Antoine and Jo return home, Violette is in the stables with her horse Ozma, a previous gift from her father to try and make up for his long absences. She is enjoying the silence of the barn and pointedly avoiding sharing space with her mother, whose rules and melancholia grate at Violette’s burgeoning independent, vivacious personality. She is so anxious for her father’s return that the moment she hears the car door open, she rushes to the farmyard to meet him.

Running right into his arms, Violette is initially giddy at his return. Her excitement only increases when he tells her that he’s taking them to the circus to celebrate her twelfth birthday. However, her joy soon fades as her mother Zelda appears on the porch, taking Antoine’s attention away from her. As he walks away Violette sees his thinly veiled exhaustion - realizing just how little time and attention he has to give, and feeling like the brief moments when he’s there ultimately only leave her feeling even more lonely once he’s gone.

The next day, the whole family travels from Strangerville to a circus in a neighboring town. Violette is immediately entranced by the magical sight - full of lights and activity just like the life she’s beginning to imagine for herself. Her wonder only grows when the family goes inside the circus tent - watching one act after another with stars in her eyes. Her attention flickers between the acts to the crowd, basking in the energy of their collective reactions and wondering what the performers must feel like at the center of their attention.

The show culminates when an acrobat descends from the ceiling. Violette looks toward her mother, recognizing that both she and the woman performing share a magnetizing talent that gives them a magic all their own. She notices her father look at her mother too, realizing that he sees the same thing that she does. Turning back toward the acrobat, Violette muses on how that type of beauty and talent can be hidden and treasured for a select few, or used to awe and control a whole crowd of people. Violette vows that that is what she wants - not just one person’s love, but a whole crowd’s adoration.

Back at the site of the future library, Zelda has begun to settle into her new professional life. We see her in conference with the project foreman, who’s looking to her for confirmation on everything from purchase numbers to the order in which things are completed. When Alexander enters the room, she seems to momentarily second-guess her new-found leadership, but swiftly regains her footing with his encouragement.

Alexander then takes her upstairs where he’s been working on the office for Library Administration. While there, he tells her that he’s leaving the day to day operation in her hands, as the WPA has chosen to open an office in town and has selected him to survey the region for potential projects and hire workers. In return for all her hard work and belief in the project, he tells her that if she knows of anyone in need of work he would be glad to hire them for infrastructure projects. Zelda looks away, picturing Gio in the dying fields.

At home the next day, Antoine and Zelda look out their living room window, discussing which one of them should tell Giorgio about the WPA job. Although Antoine offers to do so, he ultimately tells Zelda that it would be easier for him to hear the news from her - in part simply because she’s a woman, but also because she had stood there in the fields with him for so long.

When Zelda emerges into the field, Gio seems to not only be aware of her presence, but also of the fact that she’s there to tell him it’s time to leave the field and his dreams to die. As she informs him of the job he’s distant and morose, ultimately only coming back to life once Zelda grabs his hand. Even after accepting the job he seems unwilling to move, explaining that he just wants a few more hours to believe in the possibility.

Looking sideways at the dead stalks, Zelda is overcome with emotion not only for him, but for her own dreams of having another child that she had abandoned in the field months ago too. She pulls him into an embrace both for his loss and her own, unaware that Antoine is still watching them from the window.

Later that night, Josephine emerges from the farmhouse in search of Gio. She finds him sitting amongst the dead crops, still unwilling to move but now in a dark mood. Jo senses it in the air, cautiously approaching the cornfield and trying coax him out of it rather than join him there. Instead he plants himself deeper in the dirt, challenging her on the promise she had made that she would sell him back his shares of the farm when he had the money.

At first she nervously attempts to dance around the question, but eventually becomes combative. He attempts to rebuff her arguments, rising from the ground to stand on equal footing with her for the first time in months; but she shoots him down with the one line she knows will cut him deepest. I’m not your wife either.

Suddenly guilt ridden by her own rancor, Jo walks into the corn field to comfort him. As she reaches him, her genuine love and emotion manifest not only in her relief that he doesn’t move away, but also in her uncharacteristic desire to wash away his failure through self-sacrifice. It’s only with her encouragement that he finally manages to walk away from the corn field, even if her tenderness does make him momentarily forget that she never answered if she would sell him back his shares.

As the weeks pass and the corn is cut back, grief settles over Gio and Zelda. While their partners try to support them, Josephine eventually begins to lose patience with the situation. Counting down the days until she can go back on the road, she’s caught by surprise one day when Hosa Grove visits their house. Spurred by the deal Jo had previously made with his competitor, he asks Antoine to play at the opening of his dance hall. Even though this means that he and Jo would have to leave home weeks early, Jo says yes without consulting Antoine.

Gio, having witnessed the deal, immediately confronts Jo over her betrayal of Antoine. But Jo approaches the argument just like she did her dealings with Hosa - planning her retorts to work in her best interest rather than actually addressing his concerns. In particular she’s trying to avoid him asking her to sell him back his shares again; however, her cool momentarily slips when he brings up Violette, and she realizes the validity of his argument.

But rather than accept that her guiding principles and self-perception have begun to warp, Jo turns the mirror back onto Gio, exploiting his insecurities and need for comfort to quiet him into submission. Pulling him down to kiss her, she doesn’t even realize that the line between truth and her manipulations has completely blurred.

As Jo and Antoine return to the road, the house is left in turmoil. Gio has begun work with the WPA, although he finds it unfulfilling and exhausting, while Zelda is left trying to parent her increasingly distant daughter alone. Distraught by her father’s sudden departure, Violette is directing all of her frustration toward her mother - arguing that because Antoine left before they could go riding, she should be allowed to go alone. Recognizing the hurt and validity in her daughter’s statement, Zelda struggles to answer; but as their argument had taken them outside, Gio overhears it. Driven mainly by his own guilt for not stopping Jo from leaving, he offers to go riding with Violette.

But Violette immediately rebukes him and the lingering emotional intimacy she can sense between him and her mother - shouting that he can’t replace her father. After she is made to apologize, Violette storms back into the house, leaving Zelda alone with Gio. Overcome with emotion, she expresses just how difficult she sometimes finds interacting with Violette - something she has never even told Antoine. A bit flustered, Gio attempts to comfort her the way she’s always done for him, ultimately drawing them closer together as they rely on eachother in small, domestic ways as they find their partners gone more and more.

[aheathen-conceivably]

having ocs is so fucked .... i miss them so bad but im the guy who has to create new content. but im sleepy

[aheathen-conceivably]

I Prefer Girls...

When making the last post I was reminded of this awesome pose by @antiquatedsimmer and had to do it to 'em. Then I got carried away with the editing, and this is the result of that. Let's go lesbians! 🧡🤍🩷