#antoine's scars thread

[daguerreopher]

@melancoliefatale | antoine's got scars

Antoine freeze up completely when the photographer asked that question as his eyes widen, his hand quickly with instinct hide that horrible scars that could be perceived on his skin. that disgusting scars given by a ugly monster. And he know Joseph think so, he know that the man found asking that funny to asking this question and being pleased with his reaction… And he know that the other would be disgusted by how powerless and helpless he was that day on that table, he couldn’t move at all nor even scream and him cutting him open, oh the pain that day…oh the eyes who looked at him…. «Curieux Monsieur le photographe ? On est curieux a ce point mon cher monsieur ? » his voice was tense up like a cord of a violent as his eyes wanted almost to pierce the noble man…but pain could still be found inside them. Antoine calmed a bit down before talking again. « Such ugly scars shouldn’t have their stories tell. You shouldn’t look at them in the first place. »

Joseph's gaze stayed on the scar, even after Antoine covered it with a hand. He'd asked out of instinct; most people didn't mind sharing scar stories anymore. He'd almost forgotten this man was new. In fact, Joseph had actually reached out toward the man's scar.

"Vraiment curieux, Monsieur Antoine. Comme tout inventeur." It felt nice to speak French again. So few in the manor knew it.

But then Antoine hesitated, and went to speaking English once more. It would be rude not to do the same.

Joseph pulled his hand back, giving Antoine a look of faint confusion. Ugly? This man considered his scars ugly? Was this man so ashamed of them? "I would hardly call such ugly." How best to phrase it? "Though their stories may be ugly, such lines on the body are quite lovely and unique."

[starcunning]

Gandarewa

Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her …

— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Prompt #27: Fling

Sunset painted the sky in crimson and gold, shadows of deepest blue falling over the wildflowers and the lovers that languished in them. The scar upon his side was the same pale pink as her lips, not yet faded to silver; fresh bruises blossomed black and crimson against his pale skin.

She tipped her chin up to kiss one and heard him gasp, going still. Odette laughed at the way he shivered, laying her cheek against his thigh. “Vedrfolnir was not kind to you,” she said. He shook back his dark hair and smiled sorrowfully, a fingertip tracing lines of silver down her arm. The scar looked ages old, for all it had not been there yesterday. Her sister’s arts were peerless, but could not make her perfect. “I think his broodfather offered you no more clemency,” Aymeric said. “How came you to know of this place?” She turned her head, looking west. The spires of Zenith glittered in the last rays of the sun. “My adventures did not bring me here,” she admitted. “It was my Grandpere Tarresson. I would have thought, Lord-Commander, that you knew something about it.” He chuckled. “I recall, now. However, the stonemasons I sent all returned their commissions to me. It would seem they would be gladder to rebuild the Brume than teach stonework to the moogles.” “Yes, Grandpere was quite upset by his pupils’ lack of diligence, and means to take over the project himself. Colette and I gave him our surveys, but he wrote to me of his travels here, surveying the ruins ere work begins.”

Aymeric turned his face from hers, looking to the west—toward the setting sun. He watched the turning of the colossal statue atop its spire, its form like folded wings. Absently, his hand found her cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking along the shell of her ear. “What is it?” he asked. “The statue?” she wondered, shivering as the breeze flowed over her bare skin. She lifted her head from Aymeric’s lap, pushing herself up to sit beside him. “Grandpere said the moogles called it the ‘king of the land-dwellers,’ though it looks not like anyone I know,” she laughed. He turned his head to look at her, kissing the gooseflesh on her bare shoulder, and reached for his cloak to drape it about her. “I’ve no idea who built it or when.” “It would be well,” he said, “to build something that endures so long.” Odette said nothing, and looked away from his sunlit profile.

“What will you do?” Aymeric asked a moment later. “When Nidhogg is dead and Estinien returned to his rightful faculties, you mean.” “Indeed,” he said. She had no ready answer for him—none that he would care to hear. She was sure of that even without her preternatural sense for what lay unspoken in the hearts of others. Odette could feel the weight of his expectant gaze upon her, and wanted to tear his cloak from her shoulders. She did not, merely pretended to consider the question a while longer. He turned from her, plucking the blooms of wildflowers from the grass around them and laying them before her, and when he had enough he came to kneel, threading their stems into the braid of her hair. “We will see if I survive my ordeal with Nidhogg,” she told him. He touched her chin. “Do not say such things,” Aymeric murmured, leaning in to kiss the corner of her frowning lips. “I lost you once before this; I will not allow it to come to pass a second time.” “I chose to leave, Aymeric,” she said. “Not then,” he told her. “Your departure to Eorzea I could weather; it was the news of your disappearance that …” Aymeric trailed off, and Odette could not help but consider it a mercy that he did not finish the thought. “It is well that my departure from Ishgard did not kill you,” she said, “for when this war is ended, my sister and I shall go elsewhere.” “No force could compel you to stay?” Aymeric asked, hope and sorrow in his voice. “None,” Odette said. “My compatriots are still missing. The empire still marches. The beast tribes yet summon. Nothing is solved.” “I see,” he said, his fingertips brushing the slope of her shoulder as he withdrew his hands, those blue eyes directed anywhere but at her.

She felt his grief; she had no choice in that. But she did not share it, and so she simply handed him back his cloak, rose, and went to gather her discarded clothing. Odette would have no regrets about her decision, she resolved. She had been called to greater duty, and would pursue it. Her sole regret where Aymeric was concerned was that he could not see this was needful; that he had mistaken this for something more or other than the desperate fling it was. That he could not see its end.

No matter, she thought, buckling her armor on and hefting her shield to her back. She would return Estinien to him, and the pair could care for one another. Soon he would not miss her at all, would think of her only when her name appeared in his reports. That would be best.

But that future seemed distant when she turned back to see him lingering beside the tree where she’d hitched her chocobo, a bloom as pink as his scars cupped in his hands. When she drew near, he reached up to tuck it behind her ear. She could feel its dazzling astral energy and smell its sweet fragrance—they called these rare blooms Seventh Heaven, she recalled, and felt his heartache all over again.

“For luck,” he said, a roar resounding in the distance.

[fangcria]

GENERAL BACKGROUND + A FEW FACTS . TRIGGER WARNING: NONE . -  elystan rousseau , son of antoine & . amelie rousseau , was born in manhattan , new york . his mother died several months after his birth due to an unknown illness . because of this , elystan’s father , antoine , raised him with the help of his grandparents , albertine and victor . -  his father , always away from home travelling , due to his job , meant that elystan spent most of his time with his grandparents in their apartment in manhattan . they were able to afford the place after having won the lottery in  2003 . - growing up , elystan always listened to his grandfather’s record - player . learning how to play the piano and guitar from a young age , he’d find his muse through music . elystan wrote his first song at age nine . -  at school , he excelled in arts , but struggled in chemistry and maths . he was pretty good at sports , in particular basketball , for which he was named co captain in his sophomore year of high school . the same year , elystan started working at ed’s dinner , a small fast food restaurant in the heart of manhattan . -  after having performed a few of his songs in his school’s talent show , elystan’s music teacher asked him to play at his wedding , promising him generous pay . it would be the beginning of an on and off job elystan would do , playing at bars , birthdays and various events . -  torn between studying history of art and music , elystan spent his senior year of high school attempting to find his muse . joining his high school’s orchestra would be what made him choose the latter . -  majoring in music , elystan also joined alpha phi alpha . during his freshman year of college , he’d slowly start uploading not only covers , but also his original music onto youtube . 

GENERAL STATS . - name : antoine elystan rousseau . - nicknames : elystan . - age : 21 . - sexuality : heterosexual . - birthday : april 1st . - birthplace: manhattan , new york . - occupation : part time waiter at ed’s dinner & student . musician . - scars : small cut on left brow. - piercings : all canon : itzan escamilla . - tattoos : allcanon : itzan escamilla .

ALIVE CONNECTIONS . -  julen garcia , go to tattoo artist . played by ME , you can find him ON MY BLOG . - julian vallecas , drug dealer .  by ME , you can find him ON MY BLOG . - evelynn summerfield , past hook up . played by ME , you can find him ON MY BLOG .

* DISCLAIMER : the status of some connections may vary depending on verse  & . thread . all muses featured on my blog are mutliship & . multiverse .

[newstfionline]

Can the Rust Belt become the ‘Brain Belt’?

Simon Montlake, CS Monitor, May 1, 2017

AKRON, OHIO--Inside a clear plastic box the size of a rabbit hutch, a 12-inch drum turns slowly on its axis. At each turn the drum is coated with polymer threads, 100 times as thin as a human hair, fired from a needle-and-syringe electrospinner, just as Spider-Man shoots his webs. It takes 20 minutes to produce an adhesive film.

What exactly that film--which mimics the feet of the wall-scaling gecko--could do, and in which industries, is still being determined. But the promise of a dry adhesive--a binding material that uses no glue and can be applied and removed as needed, like invisible thumbtacks--has sparked commercial interest in Akron Ascent Innovations (AAI), the start-up that runs this lab in a refurbished red-brick tire factory.

It’s a “universal magnet,” says Kevin White, the start-up’s chief operating officer, who has Spider-Man posters on his walls, sticking without pushpins or tape.

It’s the kind of innovation on which Akron, Ohio, wants to build its economy, one less dependent on the ups and downs of labor-intensive manufacturing that can be outsourced or automated. That it involves polymers is no coincidence. A century ago, this was “Rubber City,” the hub of tire production that supplied Detroit’s assembly lines. When US tire manufacturers moved out in the 1970s and ‘80s, decimating the economy and depleting its population, much of the expertise remained.

Today Akron sits in a region that boasts a major plastics industry. But like many other Rust Belt cities, Akron has a workforce that’s increasingly involved in services such as health care, retail, and education; manufacturing continues to decline, with thousands of jobs shed since the Great Recession.

Few expect those factory jobs to return under President Trump. What they hope is that Akron can become a center of advanced manufacturing, where the United States has a comparative advantage and which rewards pioneers of new materials and applications fresh out of the lab.

With a research university, industrial infrastructure, and public-private partnerships, Akron is among several US cities poised to lead a revival in US manufacturing, says Antoine van Agtmael, an economist and coauthor of “The Smartest Places on Earth: Why Rustbelts Are the Emerging Hotspots of Global Innovation.” His book names Akron; Albany, N.Y.; and Minneapolis as examples of “Brain Belt” cities on the rise.

He argues that the outsourcing of factory work to China, Mexico, and other emerging markets--a term he coined in 1981--may have run its course. A new era of 3-D printing, smart devices, big data, and automation makes the US and Europe more attractive as places to develop and build new products that can be quickly brought to market.

“We are regaining our competitiveness in manufacturing irrespective of who is the US president. It’s a trend,” says Mr. van Agtmael, who runs a consultancy in Washington.

Akron has survived the death of old-fashioned manufacturing. Now it wants to hitch its fortunes to the industries of the future. “Akron is a city that has always reinvented itself,” says Sam DeShazior, the deputy mayor who oversees economic development.

Mr. DeShazior grew up on his family’s farm in Georgia. In 1919, his great-uncle Herbert was a demobilized soldier at a train station in New York, headed back to the farm after fighting in Europe, when his life took a turn.

“Firestone was there trying to get labor to come out here. Herb took [the recruiter] up on it [and] said, ‘So where’s Akron again?’ He comes here and makes more money than he ever made in his life,” says DeShazior.

Firestone later sent Herbert back to Georgia to recruit more African-Americans like himself to move north. He drove a new Ford and wore fine clothes, a walking advertisement for the weekly wages that awaited economic migrants to Akron in the 1920s.

Today DeShazior is selling a different story about Akron, one rooted in its strengths in high-tech plastics and metalwork, software start-ups, and hospitals. He pitches foreign companies looking to plant a flag in the US and drums up state funds and private capital for economic projects.

He knows that an upswing in US manufacturing won’t mean a return to the payrolls of the past. Since 2009, the recession’s nadir, manufacturing output has grown by 20 percent, but employment has risen only 5 percent. Advanced industries tend to employ fewer people in smaller facilities and prioritize education and computer skills in hiring technical staff. But the jobs they create often pay well and are less dirty and dangerous than the ones in the factories of yesteryear.

Akron has yet to see the full gains from its economic restructuring. Its average household makes less than $35,000 a year, heroin overdoses are soaring, and the city is short of funds. Only an influx of refugees is keeping its aging population of 200,000 from shrinking further.

But developers are building downtown and tapping demand for Millennials to live and work and bike in the city, breathing life into distressed districts.

For its leadership, there’s no turning back. “We’ve been innovative for 150 years. We’re not going to stop now,” says Dan Horrigan, the city’s mayor.

When Benjamin Franklin Goodrich founded a rubber company in Akron in 1870, his main product was fire hoses. In the 1890s, that changed to pneumatic tires for bicycles--followed by tires for automakers that by 1913 were going on more than a million cars a year. Akron became the world’s rubber capital, a title it held for much of the 20th century. (Today, it’s perhaps most famous as the hometown of National Basketball Association star LeBron James.)

The big rubber companies--including Good-rich, Goodyear, and Firestone--built vast factory complexes and housing estates for workers and their families. By 1960, the city had grown to 290,000 residents. Unionized employees working six-hour shifts earned enough to buy vacation homes and boats.

The good times didn’t last. Tiremakers that had been nimble and inventive--working together to develop synthetic rubber in 1942 after Japan stopped natural-rubber supplies from Asia--grew complacent.

In the 1970s, France’s Michelin rolled out the radial tire, a breakthrough that would become the new standard. US tiremakers just “pooh-poohed it. They said, ‘It’s a fad that will go away,’” says David Lieberth, a former city official and local historian.

Instead, the industry itself went away. Akron made its last passenger tire in 1982. That same year, a politician first used the phrase “Rust Belt” in a speech. “Akron, because it was so closely tied to a single industry ... was feeling a sudden and profound loss of identity. The term Rust Belt was sucked hard into that void and there it would stay,” wrote David Giffels, an author and journalist, in a 2014 collection of essays.

People left in droves. In the 1980s, says Professor Giffels, who teaches English at the University of Akron, the city was so empty that you could drive downtown on a snowy night and follow your own tire tracks home.

Akron desperately needed a new economic model. But what would it be?

The answer lay in the industry on which the city built its fortunes. Tire companies that had shut their factories kept on many of their engineers and executives. “We lost the blue-collar jobs. But the highly paid white-collar people stayed,” says Mr. Lieberth.

Companies that had supplied tiremakers began developing synthetic materials and products for Ohio’s plastics industry. The health care and transportation industries also started to grow. But the transition was slow, and city officials had to beg for state and federal funds to rebuild the scarred downtown, where squatters took refuge in empty office buildings.

DeShazior, the deputy mayor, moved to Akron in 1986, when reinvention was more talk than action. At the time, he recalls, piles of scrap tires stood in abandoned factory yards. He knew of the Rubber City’s glory years from family lore about his great-uncle Herbert, the recruiter who drove south to find laborers.

After earning a master’s in urban planning and economics, DeShazior joined the regional development board and had a hand in the revitalization of the city’s manufacturing base, including companies founded by former tire-industry employees who came out of early retirement to go it alone.

“People began to say, ‘There are things I always wanted to do but I never did because I had such security in my job. Now I’m going to try that,’ “ he says. Had the tire industry not collapsed, this entrepreneurship may never have happened. “There’s such a safety blanket that you don’t have to think outside the box.”