#from Holly Streams Pastries!!

[johnny-chaos]

Holly Talks About Gordon Freeman's Dubious Grandmother in Half Life but the Next One or Whatever

[paradoxgavel]

reading a recipe because i feel like maybe baking some nutella rugelach for thanksgiving and i love that one of the steps in this recipe is just “eat a spoonful of nutella. this step is not optional.” and the next step is “spread your nutella over the baked dough. avoid temptation to eat more nutella. or don’t.”

[fanelectricboogieloo]

torpil and grandma freeman fanart from holly tone’s pastry stream @hollowtones

[astererer]

For the hubby!! 👈🏼👈🏼👀 also Aster because i havrnt show much love to her as Vern haha UnU

🌻 💐🌾🍃 🌱 💮 🌷

ask meme here!!

🌻 — Where would your OC get lost in a place of beauty?

Aster

In a forest on an autumn day, the sun about to set, painting the sky shades of pink and orange as a golden light shines through the trees and reflects off the surface of a nearby stream, causing it to sparkle in the early evening. The gentle bubble of running water mixes with the crunch of leaves underfoot. The air is crisp, breathing it in makes Aster feel like she’s giving her lungs a deep clean, and a misty cloud escapes her lips when she exhales. The leaves remaining on the trees are shades of orange and red, the warmth of their colours contrasted by the cool temperature. She wishes it could last forever, but she also knows the fleeting nature of such a scene is why it’s so mesmerising in the first place.

Vernon

After a hectic Saturday night/early Sunday morning shift, Vernon sets down atop a large hill overlooking the Wild Area as dawn begins to break. He watches the sky fade from indigo to orange, as the sun’s first rays begin to emerge. He watches the shadows across the sprawling landscape change and the wild pokemon emerge from their hiding places for the new day. In a way, his day has ended just as everyone else’s has begun, when the cold of the night gets replaced by the warmth of the sun. But he’s also fairly certain he’s the only person in the region who gets to see this view as often as he does, and every time without fail, he’s struck by just how beautiful the Galar region is. He may be physically exhausted, but Vernon doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of this view.

💐 — if you could send your OC a bouquet, what flowers would make it up and what is the overall message?

Aster

Her bouquet would be based around yellow, orange and red colour scheme; French marigolds, red poppies, sunflowers and freesia. Overall message being to take pride and pleasure in your passions, and to trust yourself.

Vernon

His bouquet is mostly green and white, with a dash of pink: gardenia, holly, crocus and caladium. Overall message being you’re a lovely guy, and I wish you happiness and delight.

🌾 — How picky is your OC with food? What will and won’t they eat?

Aster

Major sweet tooth. Desserts, fruit, chocolate, pastries, loves them all. Except bananas. Generally speaking though, not super picky with food. You can’t really afford to be when you’ve been on the road for nearly half your life. Does try to avoid dairy where she can, not due to an outright intolerance, but she has noticed her skin tends to get worse when she’s had a lot of it. Not really into cheese unless it’s on pizza.

Vernon

Can and will eat most things unless it’s particularly spicy. Plays it safe and goes for the medium hot sauce at nando’s because he isn’t a total coward. Despises cauliflower.

🍃 — What’s the darkest period of time your OC has been through?

Aster

Ironically, becoming Galar champion kickstarted Aster’s worst life experience in her eyes. She was still an incredibly shy and anxious girl, so struggled to cope with the post battle interviews and publicity that came with her “coronation”. And after officially being crowned, the attention did not let up. Chairman Rose also gave her two schedules to abide by, one for training her pokemon, and the other for training herself for media appearances. She was left with very little free time to do things she actually enjoyed, and the sudden change in schedule was very stressful for her. So she ran off. With the help of her parents, she managed to get on a boat to Kalos without anyone noticing she was gone until the next morning.

The next few months were difficult in a different way: she could now do whatever she wanted at her own pace, but she was in a foreign country where she didn’t know anyone, and still reeling from the short lived experience that was being champion of Galar. The first thing she did was run out into the nearest route, find a secluded space and scream until her lungs gave out. She wanted to leave Galar and see new places, just not under these circumstances.

Vernon

When Aster left Galar, Vernon was distraught. He felt awful enough for not being able to protect her from the league — he could feel his heart break for her when she came home in tears after being champion for 2 weeks. He was extremely against her leaving the region, and wanted to go with her if it wasn’t for his job. She left anyway. So he called her every day to make sure she was fine. Aster, properly exploring true independence for the first time, already in an unfamiliar environment, could not deal with the extra stress that came with her brother’s shift from protective to overbearing. At first she started ignoring his calls here and there, but after around a month she had enough and the two of them had a fight. She screamed and cried and told him she never wanted to speak to him again.

Vernon proceeded to rapidly fall into a depression as his worst fear appeared to have been realised — he’d lost his little sister who he loves so dearly. He told work that he was sick when really he would spend the day in bed and crying. After around a week, however, Aster called him back. She apologised for lashing out at him the way she did, and explained in calmer terms that she wanted to be more independent, but couldn’t really do that if he’s constantly trying to check in on her. She didn’t mean it when she said she never wanted to speak to him again, but could he please stop calling every day? Once a week is enough.

Vernon managed to get her to agree to twice a week.

His boundaries are far better now, but when they were younger, especially when Aster was a child, Vernon was more than a bit obsessed with her well-being. He still adores her, always will, but this outright rejection — the first major conflict they really ever had — caused Vernon to lose a big part of his identity as he always saw himself as Aster’s Protector. It took about a year for him to properly get over it.

🌱 — What new passions/hates is your OC discovering?

Aster

She already collects dvds and blu rays, but she’s decided to go in a more retro vein and now also collects old VHS tapes too. They’re all second hand, obviously, and she even found a VHS player to watch them on. Likes watching them not necessarily for the plot of the movies themselves, though some of them are good, but so she can see if there’s any scenes that the tape’s previous owner(s) may have particularly liked (the more a tape is replayed, the faster the image quality degrades, so if a certain scene is replayed a bunch of times it will theoretically look worse than the rest of the movie).

Also taken to dupe hunting in vintage and thrift stores. Since she can’t afford actual designer pieces, if she sees some high fashion stuff she’s into, she’ll go looking for something that’s got a similar shape/silhouette and made from a similar sort of fabric to the item she likes. Aster has standards, she’d rather buy a good quality piece that isn’t exactly the same over a cheap knock off made of plastic. Has a very low opinion of knock offs in general, thinks they’re tacky and an insult to the original designers — especially if it’s a knock off of something made by a small indie brand. Bit of a fashion bitch.

Vernon

Mentioned in a past ask meme, but latte art. This guy can draw a person’s portrait in the foam, or do some 3D foam of a cute pokemon. When he visits Aster he’ll make her a coffee w a foam Galarian Meowth head sticking out, because he knows she loves cat pokemon so much. Does not share this skill with people outside of his family, unless it’s with a significant other.

Went to a museum with his parents a few weeks ago and discovered he really, REALLY, does not like or understand the point of abstract art. He would rather look at a nice landscape painting than a bunch of paint splatters. Upon voicing this opinion he was faced with an impromptu art history lecture from his mother. He still does not like abstract art.

💮 — Has your OC ever kissed someone? Who, when, and where?

Both of these guys have kissed more than one person so you’re just getting their respective first kisses here xx

Aster

A near stranger when she was 16, who she promptly slept with so she could get losing her virginity “out of the way” (her words) while she was travelling through Hoenn. Did not use protection. Never saw the guy again. Had a pregnancy scare. Moved on.

Vernon

His first kiss happened at a party when he was 15, during a game of spin the bottle. He was drunk. Does not remember it all that well. probably for the best as he lead with his tongue and the poor guy on the receiving end was thoroughly repulsed. Was like being stabbed in the face with a raw chicken fillet lol

🌷 answered here :))

[dethharmonic]

which stream is the one with gir and holly from ??

the pastries stream! good luck finding it in the 7 hours because i forget where it is other than it was before they got to the "M" pastries lol

[thehopefuldandelion]

Not Him

part 3

part 1 and 2 and 3 on ao3. part 1 and 2 and 3 on ff.net.

thanks to all who have supported me on this journey!

*sends kisses and hugs*

also I'm sorry this has taken me weeks. life has been hectic.

***

Peeta

My god. Holy frickin cow. Katniss kissed me. Well, my cheek but still! The burning sensation from her soft kiss is still present. She may have run from me but at least I have a chance with her, the most beautiful goddess there is. I sound like a fuckin’ love sick teenager. 

That fateful day that the stars aligned and she interviewed, I knew the universe was sending me a message. I’ve known Katniss since forever. Those putrid yellow swings’ memory still burns a hole in the back of my mind. The little girl with the red checkered dress and two braids moving with the wind, she was absolutely breathtaking, and, well, she still is. I may have been 5, but hey, the heart wants what it wants.

Graduation, class of 2009. It was sunset, the most vivid sunset I think I’ve ever seen. The sky was painted with indigo, orange, and rose colored pink. Katniss Everdeen, the star of my wet dreams, became more than I ever thought a person could. She not only stole my heart but gained a new title, the girl on fire. The subtle reds and vibrant oranges mixed behind her while she gave her eloquent valedictorian speech. My heart only had room for her and I could barely breath she was just that alluringly, gorgeous. I thought of her as my Katniss even though every interaction with her ended with insults. She loathed me and I wasn't sure why. I’m still confused as to what changed.

I watch her long, wavy raven hair flutter behind her as she runs to her car. I bring my fingers up to touch my cheek, savoring the memory of her soft lips. 

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

***

Katniss

As I drive home, I begin to question my barely there sanity. I-why did I kiss him? Not only is he my boss but I hated him. No, hate not hated. What’s wrong with me? I feel as if everything in my life is changing so fast I can’t see the path in front of me like a car on a foggy morning. My lungs fill with air that can’t seem to release and before I know it, I’m hyperventilating. Blindly, I shove the key in my apartment door, unlock, lock, and sink to my knees with my back against the door. 

I can’t explain these rampant feelings that are blindsiding me. Do I actually like Peeta Mellark? He does cause butterflies to erupt in my stomach and warmth to flow throughout my body when he walks in a room. Our past 2 “dates” awakened my soul more than it has been in years. He was flustered and shy after I kissed his cheek. What could that mean. Does he like me? Wait, he hated it didn't he. God, I’m such a dickhead and I don’t even have one.

As the days pass into weeks and weeks into months, I do my best to avoid Peeta at all costs. He seems to be doing the same which is fine with me. I still have erotic thoughts and memories of that fateful night at the movies but as times moves on, it pushes to the back of my mind. He and I aren’t a thing. Right?

It was Christmas time in Panem. Rosy cheeks and runny noses with melodious laughter fill every coffee shop, street, and home in this little town. Snow banks pile up on the edges of roads. I decided to come home for my Christmas vacation, not that there is really a home to come back for. While the neighbors would hang boughs of holly and red ribboned wreaths with colorful lights, my house was bland. It wasn’t always like this. When my father was alive, there never was a dreary day. Of course that all changed when he passed and my mom became a recluse. She moved away shortly after, but I couldn’t bring myself to sell the house. Memories of sweet hot cocoa and Eskimo kisses flood into my mind. A slice of my heart died with my father.

Shaking those troubled thoughts away, I climb the steps of the rickety wood porch and open the front door. Because I never visit, it has fallen apart, literally. Oh, father I’m so sorry. Roughly all the window panes are broken and rat droppings are scattered around. The kitchen faucet is loose and dust clouds.= every surface. I have my work cut out for me.

I spot some firewood outside and lay it in the hearth, lighting a match and setting the wood ablaze. Warmth. Love. Home. I missed this. The smell of wilderness and smoke waft into nose. I curl up and fall into a deep sleep, rat droppings and all.

Tap. Tap. Tap. I awake to a sharp knock at the door. Peeta? What is he doing here all handsome and muscular. My god, his arms. I want to lick the sweat that glistens on his forehead. 

“Peeta? What are you doing here?” I ask confused and slightly drowsy from sleep.

“Katniss,” Peeta says breathlessly. “I-I can’t keep doing this. Why did you stop speaking to me?”

Taken back by his words, I hesitate before saying, “I thought you hated the kiss, I mean, me.” 

“Hate you, no, never Katniss. I love you, completely and incandescently,” he says while stepping into the house and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

He...loves me? Me? How was I so stupid. Without thinking, I gently press my lips against his. He is hesitant at first but adds pressure to my lips, lightly kissing back. He then wraps his arms around my waist, as I bite his lip, sucking it to relieve pain. He tentatively tangles his tongue with mine causing a moan to bubble up in my throat. We break for air, the tension sizzling between us. His baby blue eyes are darker and filled with lust.

I forcefully latch my lips on his and he pushes me against the now closed door. Through our bruising, loving, tender kisses, I feel an underlying urge for more. To initiate this, I jump into his arms with my legs wrapping around his waist. I hear a “Fuck Katniss” and I groan loudly. 

‘Do’. Kiss. ‘You’. Kiss. ‘Know’. Kiss. ‘How’. Kiss. ‘Long’. Kiss. ‘I’ve’. Kiss. ‘Wanted this,’ Peeta says shakily. He makes his way to the stairs and I point him in the direction of my bedroom. He grins and gently lowers me to the bed. He gently unbuttons my shirt while I push down his jeans.

“Peeta,” I moan excited for what’s about to happen. I can’t believe-

Bang. I sit up looking around me. My hair sticks to my forehead as my whole body is drenched in sweat. Shit. The handle of the sink in the kitchen fell off. The fire is nothing but embers and ashes at this point with the sun streaming though a crack in the curtains. Disorientedly, I walk to my bag and pull out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I am in definite need of a shower. 

I decide to go into town once I’ve showered and changed. A quick glance outside of the kitchen window shows evidence of powdery snow dusting every surface. It’s a winter wonderland, literally. I wonder what Peeta would think of this. He always had an eye for beauty. Thoughts of him brings me back to my dream. It was so realistic and I-I wish it could be real. What am I thinking? Even though it's not exactly right, I don’t regret any of these thoughts. 

***

As I walk around the narrow brick streets, stopping briefly in each store, my stomach lightly grumbles. In the distance, a bakery can be seen. Warm light spills out the clear windows, illuminating the snow in gold. My fingers itch to open the heavy, wood door and feel the heat tingle my cheeks and toes. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and bread waft into my nose, leading me to the door. 

The wooden floor is worn but homely and the countertops have just been cleaned. Surprisingly, the cozy bakery is empty, not a soul can be seen. Eh, their loss. More pastries for me.

I bend down to look at all the mouth watering cookies, mini cakes, and breads. and spot something that I remember from my childhood. When I was younger, my dad would take me to the bakery every Sunday after hunting. He would buy a cheese bun and spilt half of it with me. The curly haired baker’s son would walk from the back with a fresh bun and hand it to me with a shy grin on his face. That all stopped when my father passed and I never saw the baker or his kind son ever again.

A man’s voice shakes me out of that memory.

“Would you like to buy something, miss?”

I stand up slowly and look the man on the eye and say, “Yes, definitely.”

The man is an older gentleman with crinkles around his bright blue eyes when he smiles. His hair is golden with gray mixed in. He is also tall with broad shoulders, he seems like an older version of Peeta almost.

“Can I get 1 cheese bun please?” I ask politely to the man.

“Yes of course, Katniss,”he responds.

“What-wh-how do you know my name?” I reply in a shocked tone.

“Why Katniss, it's me. Peeta’s father.”

“Oh my gosh. Mr. Mellark? It’s been years.”

“Yes indeed it has. I sold this bakery about a decade ago and moved closer to the city to be near Peeta. He helped me open a bakery there, which he owns now, and it is very successful,” he says with pride in his voice. “I moved back to Panem about a year ago and bought this bakery back and it has been my love ever since.”

I nod at this and realize that Peeta works for a huge corporation he started up and owns a bakery. What else can he do?

Mr. Mellark walks to the back, I’m guessing to pick up a fresh cheese bun, and discusses something with someone. I’m slightly craning my ears to hear what is being said when the last person I expected to be here walks out.

Peeta.

Fucking.

Mellark.

“K-Katniss. What are you doing here,” he says, slightly flustered.

My cheeks blush as I remember my erotic dream of last night. Peeta’s hair is unruly as if it has been brushed through by his hands one too many times. He is wearing a tight fitting white shirt with a similarly colored apron around his muscular waist. A bit of flour lines his upper cheek and icing trails down his shirt. He is hot.

“Uh, I decided to come home for Christmas. What about you?”

How ironic is it that the girl who always had something rude to spat out at Peeta, can barely make a comprehensible sentence. 

“Same. So, um, here is your cheese bun,” Peeta replies while handing me the gooey and delicious pastry with a crooked grin.

Oh my God.

Peeta is that boy. The boy with the bread. My boy with the bread.

“Th-tha-thank you,” I stutter out.

I quickly turn on my heel and find a table to eat at. The daisies and flickering candles create a sweet ambiance that distracts me from the weather outside. Speaking of which, the snow is heavily falling, to the point where you can’t see your own hand in front of your face. On top of that, it's dark, the sunset having already set, and I realize that getting home will not be easy.

Shit.

The cheese bun, which was delicious, is gone in a flash and I start towards the door. I push with all my might but realize it won’t open because of the packed snow in front of it. Dang it.

“Katniss, do you need help?” Peeta asks, watching my struggle.

“No, I don’t need help,” I grumble. I then turn back around, back facing Peeta, and push some more.

After a couple more attempts and badly held in giggles from Peeta, I give up and resignedly walk back to the table I had preciously occupied. Damn him.

I come to the conclusion that I will not be leaving this bakery until at least morning. Might as well get prepared for a long night.

Peeta comes towards the table and says, “Seeing as the snow won’t let up any time soon, I guess we are stuck here.” No duh.

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly at this and lay my head on my arms.

“Well, the table can’t be comfortable, Katniss.”

“It’s fine, Peeta. Perfectly okay,” I mumble to him in my sweater. 

“I-I have a loft above the bakery with a bed and bathroom if you want to use it. I don’t mind, honestly,” he rubs the back of his neck while blushing causing me to fluster. Why am I so weird around this man?

“Uh-well, if y-you don’t mind,” I respond while standing up and gathering my stuff.

“Follow me.”

Peeta leads me through what seems a maze of a kitchen in the back and farther into the building until we reach a flight of stairs. 

“Ladies first,” he tells me.

I blush, again, and walk quickly up the stairs. At the top, is a large oak door which I can only guess was from a large tree that soars into the air. Peeta steps around me and unlocks the door, cracking it open. I cautiously peer at him and he nods his head in a manner of telling me to enter.

Whoa. That is my first reaction to the professional kitchen with metal countertops and floor to ceiling window on the south wall. In one corner is a mini office, complete with a desk and chair with stacks of paper, bills I'm guessing, laid on top. The opposite side of the loft holds a worn, blue couch and small tv. Outdoor lights brighten the place and can be found hanging from almost every high surface. The bathroom is directly across from the front door and the spacious bedroom is next to it. Who new a loft could have this much character with its brick walls and worn orange wood floors.

“My father has a house about a mile from here and we rent this place out when I’m not home. It helps during slow times at the bakery and I don’t get down here much so its rented almost all year round. This is home for me, I guess.” Peeta says timidly.

“I’m speechless. This loft is beautiful,” I say in awe.

I drop my belongings and follow Peeta as he gives me a quick tour. 

“Thank you for this, truly,” I address him.

“Of course, Katniss. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiles back at me.

“Could I use a toothbrush and tooth paste by chance?”

“Yes, I will go get them for you,” Peeta says as he walks to a small hall closet. “I also have some sweats and a t-shirt you can borrow if you would be more comfortable.”

“U-uh yes. Thank you,” I say quickly, stumbling on my words. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about changing but Peeta offered so I couldn't refuse.

He returns with clothes and basic toiletries for me to use tonight and I take them and smile shyly.

“I’ll be back.”

He nods his head and walks over to the kitchen, I presume to bake. 

Closing the bathroom door softly, I realize the awkward predicament I am currently stuck in. What does it mean that I’m wearing my boss’ clothes? I wore his shirt before. This isn't that different. What about sleeping arrangements? Surely, he will want to sleep in his bed and I’ll take the couch. Yes, right, that’s perfect.

The shirt’s scent was, well, Peeta. Dill and cinnamon with a hint of detergent wafting to my nose. It was a couple sizes too big and hung off my shoulders. The sweatpants were a different matter altogether. They too, slipped off my body, causing me to tighten the strings. It will have to do. I kinda loved being in his clothes, Peeta’s scent radiating around me and his warmth enveloping me.

Tonight is going to be a long night.

***

Peeta

As soon as I saw Katniss sitting quietly at the wooden table, munching on a cheese bun that I made, I knew I had to talk to her. Through her struggles to open the door and my giggling which wasn't hidden well, I couldn't be more in love with her. I never thought for a second that she would say yes to my proposal of coming upstairs and spending the night. The tinted blush on her cheeks is so adorable causing me to think of things I shouldn't.

I offered her my clothes and didn't even think of how irresistible she might look with them on. Well, shit.

I decided to cook Chicken Alfredo, seeing as she only ate a meager cheese bun and must be starving.

“Thank you again, Peeta,” I turn as I hear her say this, “for the clothes and letting me stay tonight and uh everything else,” she smiles.

God, I love that smile. It’s directed at me too. Can this day get any better?

That’s when I notice my oversized clothes on her slender body. The sight will never fade from my memory. She is sexy and breathtaking. I feel a sense of ownership because she is wearing my clothes. My Katniss. I feel a playful growl wander its way up into my throat and I quickly swallow it down. No need to scare her off, Peeta. Don’t be stupid.

“Y-yeah of course. I don’t mind one bit.”

She hops on the counter next to the stove as if it is an everyday occurrence. “Whatcha cooking? It smells divine,” she asks while her stomach rumbles.

I let out a snort, “Hungry are we?”

“Duh, I may be small but I will never pass up food.”

“Chicken Alfredo. I hope you enjoy it,” I respond. Then, I reach for the wooden spoon and dip it into the soft noodles wrapping them around it. I swerve it towards her mouth, a risky move, I know, and see a look of surprise spread across her elegant face. She opens her mouth slowly and sucks off every noodle playfully causing a twitch in my pants and a hunger in my stomach to form.

Katniss leans her head back and moans in delight from its taste.

“Peeta, this is delicious. Can you cook for me everyday?” she remarks with a glint in her eye.

“You wish,” laughter erupts from deep in my belly. I meant it, though. I would, Katniss, I would cook for you forever if I could. If only she knew.

Later, after dinner has been devoured and dishes are being washed, I hear a slight humming noise. It sounds like a distant memory embedded in my mind. That song, I know it. Katniss is washing dishes and I bump my shoulder against hers.

“That song. I’ve heard it before. What is it?”

“The Valley Song,” she turns the water off and gazes at me softly. Before I can respond she asks a follow up question. “Why did you push me off those yellow swings when we were younger?”

I racked my brain for the situation she was indicating. Oh, that day.

“Long story short, I have-had a slight crush on you and may have been trying to show off with my super strength.” At this, I lift my arms in a front double bicep position, showing off my “strength”. I kiss each bicep and hear a giggle slip out of Katniss. I turn my head and give her an inquisitive look. Neither of us can hold a straight face causing laughter to erupt between us like a volcano.

When she finally can breathe after laughing so terribly much, she responds, “I guess that makes sense, body builder.”

“Yeah right, if only.”

Instead of laughing, she peers at me silently, with an unreadable look on her face.

Later into the night on the couch with almost one season of Ozark under our belts and the popcorn bucket empty, I realize Katniss has dozed off on my shoulder. Her forehead isn't creased like it usually is during the day and that scowl that I have come to love has seamlessly disappeared. A tiny flicker of hope floods my senses. Many nights of Katniss curled up against me, me tucking her in our bed with a peck to her forehead, little feet pattering on the hardwood, maybe even the click of a dog's paws. If only this could come true, I sigh internally.

Resolute to enjoy this moment, I fulfill one of my imaginations. Carefully, wrapping my arms under her knees and her back I walk to the bedroom. She is laid down gently on the bed and I notice her plump red limps. Tiny puffs of hair escape her mouth causing tendrils and wisps of her long locks to float. I couldn’t imagine not loving this woman. She has turned my life upside down, for good.

What would it be like to memorize every facial expression she forms or to hug her large round belly filled with my kin, an Everdeen-Mellark. As I tuck her in, pondering these unrealistic thoughts, she stirs.

“Peeta?” the goddess faintly asks.

“Yes, my lov-Katniss,” I respond, almost slipping up, still overwhelmed by those dreamy thoughts.

She reached for my wrist and wraps her slender hand around it.

“Stay?”she murmurs, drowsily.

There is one, singular answer that can fulfill this question.

“Always,” I tell her.

Wrapping my arms around her in bed and kissing the top of her head lightly I realize something I could never let slip from my memory.

Even if Katniss and I are never what I wish, as long as she is in my life, a part of my heart and soul, I shall not want again. My love, my beauty, my Katniss flower.

***

Katniss

A kiss on the forehead and a warm man next to me. Who knew that would make me feel like I’m home. No, not just any man, Peeta. I couldn’t comprehend loving another man. Oh. My. God. I love him. I don’t know when, I certainly don’t know how, but I just do. A sleepy grin crosses my face as I slip into a soft sleep with the man I love by my side. Home isn't always a place but sometimes a person. People may enter your life unexpectedly and flip it upside down. You may even hate the person but one thing is for sure, forever and always, I’m glad it's him.

***

So that’s it? I can do an epilogue if you want it just let me know. It probably seems rushed but I don’t really care. This has been such a joy to write and I’m so so thankful to each and everyone of you for sticking around to the end. Also, did you enjoy Peeta’s perspective?

-xoxo Clara

[edda-blattfe]

Holiday Headcanons

(A.k.a. Writing warm up, cause lord knows I need to get back in the game.)

- Night Raven, a bleak, desolate institution dedicated to the mastery of magic in all forms. Only the strong of spirit can see past the dismal stone walls, into the beating wealth of knowledge it truly possesses. It is not place for the feint of heart....that is, until winter comes around.

- The holiday season gives our beloved headmaster, Crowley, a chance to “warm up” the dreary castle-turned-school with cheerful tinsel, Yule trees, lights, candles, and many more delightful decorations. The hallways are no longer dreadfully dull places where the dearly departed and horrific wonders lurk, but sparkling pine scented pathways. Classrooms no longer seem like prisons to students and all the fields as far as the eye can see is dusted with shimmering snow. Fireplaces are constantly being fed logs, offering everyone some relief from the cold. Yes, Night Raven college looks splendid this time of year.

- No one knows who, or even why they do it, but every morning throughout December a copious amount of festive cookies and pastries are set out in the cafeteria. The cooks swear it’s not them, and the school records support their claims. Students have tried to catch the culprit for decades now, with no success. There are several theories flying around. Some say it’s the ghost of the first cook at Night Raven coming back to help cheer on the students for finals; others believe that it’s Crowley himself wanting to give his students a helping hand. In any case, the food is always phenomenal and greatly appreciated.

- Each dormitory is responsible for their own decorations and function organization. It’s become a sort of competition between Pomefiore, Scarabia, and Heartslabyul. You can probably guess how these dormitories do their thing, so let’s talk about why the others don’t partake.

- Savanaclaw has a long history of not caring if their holiday spirit is visible or not. If someone wants a tree they’ll put it up and pull out the old ornaments, but that’s as far as it goes unless someone wants to volunteer. There is a punching bag dressed as Santa Clause that Leona actually takes the effort to pull out of the closet himself. He gets a kick out of seeing the first year’s reaction to it.

- Ignihyde isn’t the most competitive when it comes to holiday stuff. Most of their decorations are led lights and sticks to a blue, white and silver color pallet. If Idia is feeling a little festive he’ll stick a pair of antlers on his drones with a red light where their “nose” would be.

- Octavinelle is waaay too busy with the holiday rushes at the cafe and contract signings to care about competition. Though, they’d have a good chance of winning if they did! The restruant looks like the holidays stuffed into a single glass ornament for the entire month. Tinsel and holly is literally everywhere! You’re gonna want to watch your step, there’s a few sticks of mistletoe hanging in the mess of cheer.

- Diasomnia tried to join in...but unlike the school, there is no way of dispelling the natural eerie atmosphere that hangs over this dorm. It’s like there’s a spell over the place that turns even the cheeriest of decorations into horrific, macabre pieces straight out of the Victorian era. The dorm members have abandoned all hope of trying to compete and have come to embrace their dark holiday vibe. Besides, they always win the Halloween competitions. It’s only fair that the others get a chance of winning something!

- Vil, Kalim, and Riddle are all hell-bent on winning this year’s competition....it’s a little frightening, to be honest.

- Pomefiore always gears towards a crystal and snowy wonderland theme that matches their dorm’s atmosphere beautifully! In the morning, light streams through the windows and floods the common rooms with glittering crystal rainbows more enchanting than the snowy wonderland outside.

- Scarabia focuses less on theme and more on “how many lights can we put up without violating Crowley’s regulations on light pollution.” EVERYTHING is covered in lights. It’s so strong that dorm members will wear sunglasses at night to avoid ruining their eyes. Jamil makes sure they all get shut off by around 9pm for the sake of sleep.

- Heartslabyul takes a more traditional homey approach. They have trees decked out in glistening ball ornaments and whatever the members had picked up from Sam’s. Golden tinsel is everywhere, as are bells and seasonal tea cups. Red, green and gold are the go to colors here, with occasional wonky pink flamingo wearing a Santa hat or multicolored hedgehog breaking the consistency. Decorative present boxes are everywhere and are typically stuffed with candy (cause Riddle expects to find something in them, he ain’t having any of that empty box nonsense!) for all the members.

- Azul’s favorite part of the holiday season is definitely the music. Say what you will about carols, this man will be seated at his glorious piano, tickling the ivories to whatever holiday diddy is stuck in his head at the time. Karaoke for the month is dedicated to holiday music and nobody misses a night, not even Vil.

- The trouble trio (Lilia, Kalim, and Ace) use this opportunity to sing things like Alvin and the Chipmunk’s “Christmas Don’t Be Late” and “Jingle Bell Rock”. Their rendition of “Santa Baby” remains their best work up to date.

- Vil, Rook, and Epel prefer to sing the “darker” Christmas hymns, like “What child is this?”, “O come, O come, Emmanuel”, and “Carol of the Bells”. It’s a hauntingly beautiful display that earns their audiences’ full attention. (Vil probably gets the whole dorm to do the Carol of the bells, now that I think about it)

- Lilia has a love/hate relationship with this season. On one hand, you have tons of sugary sweet treats literally hanging off tree branches. On the other, elf jokes. Silver gave him elf pajamas as a joke once; it wasn’t pretty. (Lil gremlin went feral on his ass so fast... *imagines Silv video taping Lilia opening his present and seeing the exact moment he realizes what it is before tackling the camera head on...all you see are furious red eyes and fangs before the footage cuts out*)

- Ruggie isn’t a fan of the holidays, but he’s there for all the food!

- Believe it or not, Jade and Floyd actually takes it easy on late payments this time of year, Azul is also more prone to giving extensions. They’ve all seen or read “A Christmas Carol” and know first hand that ghosts are, in fact, very real. They ain’t gonna make Scrooge’s mistake!

- Jamil can leave or take the holiday season, he really doesn’t care that much about it. Nevertheless, he still puts in a lot of effort to make the holidays special for Kalim, who loves it with a childish passion.

- Ortho hasn’t had many Holidays, so he’s still very much in awe of everything.

- Mozus actually really likes the holiday season...at home with Lucious and a book in his armchair placed before a roaring fire, enjoying the peace and quiet.

I’m leaving off there for now, but if you’d like more holiday headcanons shoot me an ask! Gtg work on other stuff. Hope y’all enjoyed!

[n0verias]

This is for @nyappykid, I was your Ace Attorney Secret Santa! I hope you like it!

Title: Christmas in Khura’in Pairing: Klavier/Apollo Rating: T Warnings: Mentions of crimes/murders, mentions of death Additional Tags: Made-up Khura’inese words, Apollo is a lovestruck fool AO3 Link

December 22, 2028 Justice Law Office

“Horned Head! I command you to help me this instant!” Rayfa shouted as she attempted, with little success, to hold up a huge stream of prayer flags. Her small frame was barely visible with how much she was holding, and Apollo was actually quite impressed.

“I got it.” Apollo lessened the load for Rayfa by taking half the pile in his arms. “I honestly didn’t think Christmas was celebrated here.”

Rayfa let out a pronounced ‘hmph’. “Is that what you call it in America? Here, we call it Khu’khurist. It’s an ancient tradition brought upon by the Holy Mother herself as a means to celebrate all that we are thankful for. And while you selfish Americans demand gift offerings, we hold a giant festival for all to enjoy.”

“And on the day of the 25th, we conclude by lighting the candles of prayer around the giant hal’abad tree.”

Apollo and Rayfa turned to see Nahyuta entering the Justice Law Office with a box of decorations. “And while we generally don’t hand out gifts as Rayfa said, it is not uncommon for couples to exchange a small token of their love for each other.” Nahyuta chuckled as he set down the box. Apollo took a peek and saw that there were a bunch of unlit candles, as well as holly, a wreath, and…oh god, was that what Apollo thought it was?

“Ah, and I did some research on American customs as well. Apparently, Americans hang some kind of plant called ‘mistletoe’ in a doorway, and whoever ends up under it has to kiss someone.” Nahyuta held up the mistletoe in his fingers and tried to find a perfect spot for it. “I thought it would make Apollo feel more at home.”

Apollo grimaced. So it WAS what he thought. “I don’t think something like that is necessary.” Besides, there is literally no one here who he would want to kiss, and he’ll be damned if he had to kiss someone like…Datz. He shuddered at the thought.

Rayfa crossed her arms. “How barbaric. So this is what America is like during the holidays?”

“NO.” Apollo shouted a lot louder than he intended. “Putting something like that up in the office is just asking for bad luck to happen!”

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, Datz Are’bal burst through the door and almost tripped over the rug. He managed to catch his balance as he skidded to a halt right in front of them. “Did you guys hear?! They managed to get some hot shot musician to sing at the festival!”

Nahyuta and Apollo stared at Datz as if he grew a second head. Rayfa in contrast smirked.

“Ah that’s right! I heard from Mother…I—I mean Queen Amara…” Rayfa blushed at her blunder. “That she sought to find a form of American entertainment, since this would be Horned Head’s first Khu’khurist with us.”

Why did Apollo feel so uneasy? “Dare I ask who this musician is?”

Rayfa pondered the thought. “Uh…I believe it was Klavier Gavin…?”

Apollo was stunned into silence. He hadn’t heard from or spoken to Klavier for more than a year…not since that incident at Themis Legal Academy. And if he were to be completely honest, he thought that Khura’in would be the LAST place he would ever run into the fop. Did this mean that Klavier was reviving his musical career? He recalled last time they spoke that Klavier was going to focus more on his prosecuting, especially after Daryan Crescend was convicted of murder and the Gavinners were disbanded. He recalled that to be a dark time for Klavier, and no matter how much the man showed off a smile, it was clear that underneath it was sorrow. Of course, a lot can change within the course of a year. He wondered how Klavier was doing…he didn’t even think that Klavier knew that he was in Khura’in.

“Earth to Apollo!”

Apollo was snapped out of his thoughts by Datz waving his hand ferociously in front of his face. Apollo slapped the hand away with mild annoyance. “Sorry…just that hearing the name Klavier Gavin brings back old memories.”

“Do you know him?” Nahyuta questioned, to which Apollo nodded.

“After a fashion. He’s actually a prosecutor who I fought against on many occasions.”

Rayfa tilted her head. “So he’s a friend? Maybe it’s a good thing he’ll be the one performing, then.”

Could Apollo consider Klavier a friend? Sure they were on good terms both outside the courtroom and inside, but it’s not like they ever took time out of their busy schedules to have a chat over coffee. Apollo sighed. “When’s he supposed to arrive?”

“Actually, he might already be here. His plane landed yesterday and should be staying at Tehm-pul Temple—” Before Rayfa could finish her sentence, Apollo dashed out of the office, leaving behind stunned and mildly amused expressions.

“Something tells me this will be an interesting Khu’khurist indeed.” Nahyuta chuckled.

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Apollo panted and wheezed as he stopped in front of the temple. He hadn’t run that fast in a while, it felt like; but his exhaustion soon wore off when he caught sight of the familiar silhouette of someone he hadn’t seen in a long while. The purple jacket, those rings…that platinum blond hair.”

“K-Klavier?!”

Said figure turned around, revealing crystal blue eyes peeking out from behind black shades. The look of shock on Klavier’s face was very apparent.

“H-Herr Forehead?” Klavier rushed to Apollo. “Mein gott, why are you here?”

Oh, that’s right. He…never told Klavier that his new residence was in Khura’in. “I’ve been living here for a few months now, actually.” Apollo explained awkwardly. “It’s a long story…”

“Oh? So you’re no longer employed under Herr Wright? What did you do that caused him to fire you?” Klavier chuckled.

If there’s one thing he didn’t miss, it was Klavier’s sharp tongue. “That’s not what happened! I told you it was a long story.”

Klavier grinned. “Well, we have plenty of time to catch up. Maybe over drinks?”

Apollo wanted to protest, but a part of him couldn’t bring himself to refuse. It was probably that smile. That annoying, pretty boy smile. He didn’t like talking about the events that transpired earlier in the year, but he supposed he owed Klavier an explanation for disappearing from the courtrooms in Los Angeles.

They managed to find a small café that sold different Khura’inese pastries and drinks, which they sat down and caught up. Klavier told him about how he visited Germany for a couple of weeks, and how his music was still very popular there much to his surprise. His prosecuting career is still as successful as ever, making sure that no one was falsely convicted and that only the true criminal was brought to justice. That was one thing he and Apollo had in common, and something that Apollo was grateful of. On a more somber note…Klavier also told him of Kristoph’s execution. Kristoph Gavin, Klavier’s brother and Apollo’s former boss, was finally executed via lethal injection about a month ago. Klavier was present, and while Kristoph had no last words, their eyes locked one last time before the deed was done.

And as if things couldn’t get more depressing, Apollo decided to tell Klavier about his adoptive father, Dhurke Sahdmadhi, and the events that sparked a revolution here in the Kingdom of Khura’in. Which, of course, included the details surrounding Dhurke’s death, as well as his biological father’s murder at the hands of the former Queen of Khura’in. It was still rather difficult to retell the events that haunted his memories, but he knew that he would have to get over it eventually.

“I’m really sorry to hear about Kristoph.” Apollo looked at Klavier with sympathy. “Regardless of what he’s done, I’m sure it must’ve been hard for you.”

Klavier sighed. “The past is past. I can’t waste time feeling sorry for myself.” He smiled sadly. “It’s strange, really…he had done some cruel things that ruined him, and I pitied him. But as his brother, I couldn’t help but feel sad. He wasn’t even a supportive brother to begin with.”

“That’s only human nature.” Apollo took a sip of his herbal tea. “To me, he was just my boss; but to you, he was family.”

Klavier chuckled. “How about we change the subject to something more…cheerful.” He rested his chin on his hands and smiled. “So am I to understand that you inherited your adopted father’s law office? You sure are making a name for yourself, Herr Forehead.”

Apollo laughed awkwardly and scratched his cheek a little. “Something like that. I wanted Dhurke’s dream to live on, so I made the tough decision to stay here…at least until the justice system in this country gets revived.”

Klavier hummed. “Do you still keep in contact with Fräulein Magician and Fräulein Cykes? And what happened to Fräulein Detective? I haven’t seen her in quite some time.”

“Ever the romantic, aren’t you.” Apollo rolled his eyes. Ema was probably over the moon over not having to work side-by-side with Klavier. “It’s pretty expensive to talk over the phone, but I send them letters whenever I’m able to. Trucy apparently promoted Athena to her magical assistant.” Apollo thanked the stars that he no longer had that position. “As for Ema…I think she’s here in Khura’in, actually.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow, so Apollo explained further. “The prosecutor in this country has taken a liking to her, so she’s here for as long as I have helping us with cases.”

“I’m amazed that someone could tolerate the detective for too long without stepping on her toes.” Klavier chuckled.

Apollo shot him a deadpanned expression. “I’m sure she was only like that because she had to deal with you on a daily basis.”

Klavier feigned hurt. “Way to strike me where it hurts, Herr Forehead.”

Of course, Apollo knew that the real reason behind Ema’s sour attitude back then was due to her having failed the forensics exam. Now that she was a certified forensic scientist, she was in much higher spirits.

They spent a few more minutes of small chatter before leaving the café. And who should they run into but Nahyuta and Rayfa carrying more supplies, no doubt in preparation for the festival.

“So you must be the musician that will be performing in a few days?” Nahyuta questioned, to which Klavier nodded. Nahyuta smiled. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Any friend of Apollo is a friend of mine.”

Apollo crossed his arms. “Klavier, this is Nahyuta Sahdmadhi. He’s the prosecutor for this country. And the girl next to him is Rayfa Padma Khura’in…crowned princess of Khura’in, as well as a holy priestess.”

Klavier whistled. “You sure have friends in high places, Herr Forehead.”

“Herr…Forehead…?” Nahyuta chuckled, and Rayfa smirked.

“I see that Horned Head has many titles.”

Klavier bowed to Rayfa, took her hand in his, and kissed it. “It’s an honor to meet the princess of this country.”

Rayfa’s face turned a dark shade of red and Apollo thought for a moment that she had short-circuited. And as expected, Rayfa hastily pulled her hand away and pouted. “You will cease this inappropriate behavior at once!” Her voice slightly cracked at the end, which didn’t help her case at all.

“I see you’re still an insufferable charmer.” Apollo rolled his eyes, to which Klavier chuckled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Klavier then took Apollo’s hand and did the same thing. “Unless it’s working, of course.”

Apollo stood there, frozen like a statue. “N-Now you’re just trying to be annoying.” However, the fact that he hesitated to pull his hand away caused Nahyuta to chuckle. Thankfully, Klavier didn’t notice as he stood up.

“Well, I think I will head back to my room. I think jet lag is finally catching up with me.” Klavier smiled. “Good to see you again, Herr Forehead. Maybe we’ll see each other tomorrow. My number is still the same.” And with a wink, Klavier walked back in the direction of Tehm’pul Temple without looking back.

After a few minutes of saying nothing, Nahyuta cleared his throat. “So…just a friend, you said?”

Apollo snapped out of his trance. “Uh…what?”

“You and Klavier Gavin seemed very close.”

Apollo was silent for a short moment, before looking to the side. “He and I have known each other for a while. And while I hate to admit it, he’s helped me out with my first few cases as an attorney.”

Nahyuta nodded in understanding. “So your relationship is strictly professional?”

“…What are you implying?”

“You reacted the same way that Rayfa did when Mr. Gavin kissed your hand.” Nahyuta smiled sweetly. “And unlike her, you’re not a small child vulnerable to precocious crushes.”

“Hey!” Rayfa pouted next to Nahyuta, but he ignored her.

“Hm…maybe that mistletoe will come in handy, after all.”

Apollo wasn’t impressed in the slightest. “You’re just imagining things, Nahyuta.” However, that did nothing to stop his heart from racing at an unnatural pace. He desperately wanted the subject to change. “So if you two are here, who’s watching the office?”

Rayfa crossed her arms. “Datz, of course.”

The color from Apollo’s face drained away and he rushed back in the direction of his office, all while grateful for that embarrassing conversation to end.

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“Whoa, you must be in deep trouble if you’re willing to pay for a long distance phone call, Polly!” Trucy’s voice chimed through Apollo’s cell phone. “You’re not in trouble with the law again, are you?”

Apollo frowned. “No, nothing like that…and what do you mean ‘again’?!” He huffed. “If you must know, Klavier is here in Khura’in. To perform for the Christmas festival.”

He could practically feel the amount of glee seeping through Trucy’s voice. “Oooooh, so that’s where he went! We’re actually babysitting his dog for him while he’s away. I wanted to tell you, but by the time the letter would reach you it’d probably be too late.”

Well, he appreciated the thought, he supposed. Though that still did nothing to calm his heart down. It felt like it was about to explode, and there was no way in hell he would ever admit to the reason for it. “I wonder how Ema would react to seeing him here. She’s been so busy with work that I doubt she even knows about the festival.”

Trucy giggled. “It’s just like you to change the subject like that, Polly.”

“I admit nothing.”

“Well, I’m sure Ema won’t be as grumpy as she used to be, now that she can legally take people’s fingerprints!” Trucy’s voice faltered all of a sudden, and soon after there was a loud crashing noise in the background.

“Are you alright, Trucy?!” Apollo began to worry.

Trucy’s voice sounded distant for a moment, before it came back to the phone. “Sorry about that, I’m practicing a new magic trick but Athena keeps messing up her part. She’s enthusiastic, but she doesn’t have the same charm that you did.”

“And I don’t miss those days for a moment.” Apollo deadpanned. “I hope Athena isn’t bleeding to death right now, otherwise Mr. Wright will not only have to find a new attorney, but also deal with Mr. Blackquill’s wrath on top of that.”

“No no she’s fine! For the most part…” Trucy’s voice trailed off. “Might have gotten a few paper cuts but nothing serious! Besides, Pearl is helping out too. She’s our resident first-aid kit for Athena.”

Apollo sighed. “Stop bringing other people into your convoluted magic tricks.”

“I can’t hear you, Polly!” Trucy sing-songed. “So back to your reason for calling. I think your situation desperately calls for some Christmas magic. Like a clear starry night…or mistletoe!”

“Enough with the mistletoe!” Apollo’s chords of steel made its appearance in the form of a grating shout. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure about tha—”

Apollo could hear a commotion on the other end, followed by some protests from Trucy. Seconds later, a new voice popped up.

“Okay listen up, Apollo, I was listening to the entire conversation!”

Apollo scowled. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to eavesdrop, Athena?”

Athena scoffed. “Whatever, just listen. You can’t keep your feelings inside you for so long. I’m practically on the other side of the world and I can still feel your emotions loud and clear! And if you think I’m not willing to give you a therapy session over the phone, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Alright, alright I get it. So what are your ears picking up, exactly? Because I have no idea.”

It sounded like Athena grabbed something from the other end. “Glad you asked! Now, as your resident therapist, I suggest you first admit your feelings for Klavier—”

“Wait wait what, WHAT?!” Apollo practically screamed.

“Oh please, Apollo, it was obvious to me since you made that huge tangent about those roses Klavier sent Trucy earlier in the year.” Athena’s voice was flat, and Apollo could just about picture her eyes rolling. “You don’t have to tell the man, but admitting to yourself that you have feelings for him will definitely ease the tight feeling in your chest.”

“………..Goodbye, Athena. Tell Trucy I said goodbye, and if she asks, you are the reason I’m cutting this conversation short.”

Before Athena could protest, Apollo hung up his phone and let out a loud, drawn out sigh. He lied back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

(Feelings for Klavier, huh…)

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December 22, 2028 Wright Anything Agency

“I can’t believe you, Athena!” Trucy huffed with her hands on her hips. “I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to him!”

Athena felt only slightly guilty. “It’s not MY fault he refuses to admit his feelings for Klavier!”

Trucy crossed her arms. “Polly’s a boy, Athena! They don’t admit things like that so easily, if at all!”

Athena frowned. “I would think he would have outgrown that behavior by now, he’s in his mid-twenties!”

“Umm…guys?”

Both Trucy and Athena looked in the direction of the voice to see Pearl standing there with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to interrupt, but I just got off the phone with Bonny. She was wondering if you wanted her to get Mr. Hat ready for tomorrow’s Christmas show…”

“Oh!” Trucy ran to grab her notes that were sitting on the coffee table. “Yeah, if she’s able to!”

Athena toyed with her earring. “…Didn’t Bonny mess up Mr. Hat’s positioning during that one case…?”

“Yeah, but I trust her! Besides, Betty is there too to supervise.” Trucy went back to practicing her magic trick, and Athena grimaced.

(Wasn’t Betty actively trying to sabotage you, too?!)

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December 25, 2028 Justice Law Office

It was finally time for the festival, and Apollo was absolutely floored by how beautiful the bazaar was. Candles illuminated every corner of each store; people selling small candies colored in silver and gold. Khura’in even had their own version of Santa Claus, although it was an overly long name that Apollo couldn’t even try to pronounce if he wanted to. Apparently this version of Santa Claus was a holy priest who dedicated his life to making children happy; he awarded those who practiced his religion with devout faith, and punished those by sending them to a dark abyss where they would face eternal suffering. A bit excessive, Apollo thought, but he can’t say he was surprised.

He hadn’t seen Klavier since the other day. He didn’t want to pull Klavier away from his rehearsals for later tonight. Klavier did however text him that he would be performing ‘The Guitar’s Serenade’ after the candles are lit on the hal’abad tree. It was customary for an hour sermon to be recited during the lighting, followed by up to three hours of prayer. Apollo was grateful that he wouldn’t have to participate in that; he wasn’t sure if his back can handle being in a hunched position like that for three whole hours.

He walked through the bazaar, admiring the lights and little trinkets hanging from the rafters with a carefree expression. It wasn’t often that he can enjoy something like this without thinking about a case in the back of his mind. Ever since the abolishment of the Defense Culpability Act, his office has heard no end to cases involving wrongful convictions; and while he was more than happy to right the wrongs done by a twisted government, it was nice to have some time to himself.

His eyes fell upon Nahyuta and Ema by a fruit stand. Ema had a very confused expression on her face while Nahyuta was holding up a bizarre-looking fruit with pink skin and purple splotches, all while making a gesture with his hand. Surely he was giving Ema some kind of lecture about the significance of that particular fruit, and Apollo couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle at the scene. He walked a little further and noticed Datz selling some…were those lizards? Surely not the same lizards that he had hanging in the office at some point?! Apollo couldn’t walk fast enough when he saw that Datz noticed him and egged him to come over.

When he finally made it to Tehm’pul Temple, he stared in awe at the huge hal’abad tree with what looked like thousands of candles on each branch. This seemed like a fire hazard, but who was he to question a sacred Khura’inese holiday? As he walked closer, he noticed Rayfa standing in front of the tree looking at a piece of parchment. He wondered if Rayfa also had an important part in the ceremony; it made sense, her being the royal priestess and all.

A quick glance to his left, and his gaze landed on that of Klavier Gavin, clad in his normal wear and going over some of the vocals for his song. He even had a guitar in hand. Apollo couldn’t help but think about the conversation he had with Trucy a few days ago, and he immediately felt tense. Is this how witnesses felt whenever he perceived them? It was such an uneasy feeling, and it sent a chill down his spine.

Klavier must’ve noticed him staring, for he called him over with a smile and wave. Apollo feigned a scoff and walked over.

“I’m still surprised they decided to get a foreign performer for such an important day.” Apollo commented, to which Klavier chuckled.

“Believe me when I almost refused the offer…until the queen herself asked, and well, who can say no to royalty?”

Apollo shot him a small smile. “Understandable.” His gaze drifted towards the sky, where a bunch of stars danced in the night. “…You know, we’ve known each other for a while, and while I hate to admit it…” He sighed. “…You were part of the reason for me lasting this long as an attorney. Going against you has taught me many things, and…I guess I’m saying I’m thankful.”

Klavier had a dumbfounded expression on his face for a split second, but quickly recovered. “While I appreciate the sentiment, Herr Forehead, that was entirely your doing. I just pushed you in the right direction.” He smiled. “We were both aiming towards the same truth, were we not?” He looked up at the sky as well. “Ach, I do have to say that I miss our days in the courtroom. It’s just not the same without you on the other side.”

Apollo’s heart made an involuntary leap and for a second, he thought he would faint. “Uh…r-right. And here I thought you only saw me as a naïve greenhorn who needed to be spoon-fed evidence.”

The light laugh that escaped Klavier’s throat was intoxicating. “Of course I thought that at first, but that was before I got to know you. I always wondered what kind of attorney you were, after you bested my bro in court…and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised.”

“…Of what?”

Klavier looked back at Apollo. “Everything, I guess. But most of all, that determination you had to find the truth, and undying faith towards your client. Despite being your boss, you turned out to be nothing like Kristoph.”

He hated to admit it, but he was starting to feeling butterflies in his stomach. He hated it when Athena was right, especially about something like this. “…Listen, Gav—uh, Klavier…”

Klavier raised an eyebrow, and it was then that Apollo realized that this was the first time he ever referred to Klavier by his first name. And upon realizing this, it became much more difficult to form the correct words—

“Hey, Horned Head. I’m unsure of where to put this, but Nahyuta handed it to me and now I’m stuck with it. What are the customs for this in America, again?”

Apollo turned his head up behind him and saw Rayfa standing there, a blunt expression on her face...holding a bundle of mistletoe in her fingers and dangling it above where he and Klavier were sitting. He was mortified. He dared to glance at Klavier, who was merely chuckling, his chin propped up by his hand and staring at him.

“The fräulein wants to know what people do under the mistletoe. Would you like to help me show her, Herr Forehead?” Klavier smiled, and Apollo couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed hold of the front of Klavier’s shirt and pulled him in closer, giving him a forceful kiss that couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds. When he pulled away, Apollo got up from his seat and stormed off, not even bothering to look back. Why did he do that?! He was such an idiot, and the worst part was he couldn’t tell which part he regretted more, the kiss or leaving right after. It wasn’t until he heard someone shouting his name that he came to a halt and turned around.

“You know it’s bad taste to leave without a word after kissing someone, ja?” Klavier panted a little. He must have ran after him shortly after what happened.

Honestly speaking, Apollo acted on impulse. It was a spur of the moment decision brought about by everyone taunting him; first Nahyuta, then Trucy and Athena…he let out a frustrated sigh as he turned his head to look back at Klavier, who was running his fingers through his hair.

“I…I just did what people normally do under mistletoe. It’s what everyone wanted of me, right?” Apollo bit out.

Klavier tilted his head with a mildly concerned expression. “I was just humoring the young fräulein—”

“What do you want from me, Gavin?” Apollo cut Klavier off.

Klavier took a step toward Apollo. “I should be the one asking you that.” Klavier reached out with the intent to rest his hand on Apollo’s shoulder, but stopped when he saw how the other man recoiled. “Is there something bothering you? Ach, did I do something to offend you in any way?” He grew more concerned by the minute. “Please talk to me.”

Apollo hesitated. His gaze darted back and forth between Klavier’s face and the hand that was ever so slightly reaching out to him. There is no turning back once he speaks the words he desperately wants to get out. But really, why would someone as famous as Klavier, the rock star prosecutor himself, even think about reciprocating his feelings? Sure he was making a name for himself in Khura’in, but back in the States he was just a defense attorney working under the legendary Phoenix Wright. Hell, Klavier witnessed Apollo’s very first cases as a defense attorney, and all the embarrassments that came with being a greenhorn.

He never could take rejection very well; his mind was already settling on the worst possible outcome before anything even happened.

“Apollo?”

Apollo was dragged out of his thoughts by Klavier’s voice, and when his eyes focused in front of him, he realized that Klavier’s face was much closer to his own than before. He could feel his own face getting hotter and hotter, despite his efforts to stop it.

“…What do you think of me, Gav…Klavier.” Apollo’s voice broke a little. “Please, I need to know.”

Klavier stared at Apollo for what felt like an eternity, before he finally answered. “Words cannot even begin to describe how I feel about you, Apollo.” His expression was somber as he glanced around at the lit candles illuminating the bazaar. “You remember when we first met?”

Apollo slowly nodded. “I could never forget that case…” Although he would be more than happy to forget about stolen panties. “Trucy noticed you standing in front of your motorcycle, waving to a bunch of your fans.” He let out a chuckle. “You were the one who made it possible for me to investigate the crime scene.”

Klavier smiled. “I probably didn’t look like it to you, but I was…suffering back then. Emotionally, and mentally.”

“…Was it because of Kristoph?” Apollo already knew the answer, but wanted confirmation.

Klavier nodded. “My bro was certainly one of a kind. But behind closed doors, he was just as manipulative and scheming as how he was in the courtroom. Every waking hour growing up with him felt like there was a noose around my neck, and he was the judge, jury, and executioner.” He let out a sigh. “And then…that case happened. Kristoph set me up to destroy Phoenix Wright’s career. I had my suspicions of course, but with all my heart I really wanted to believe that there was no way my own brother could do something that cruel. And then you came along and pulled the covers from my eyes. And thanks to you, I was finally able to confront Klavier on equal footing; I was no longer afraid of him.”

Apollo didn’t know what to say, but Klavier continued. “What I’m trying to say is that, in a way, you saved me back then. Without you there to accuse Kristoph and bring him into the courtroom once more, I don’t think I would have ever been able to face my demons.” Klavier looked at Apollo and smiled. “You mean a lot to me, Apollo…more than I’m sure you can even begin to imagine.”

A small breath escaped Apollo’s mouth as he was rendered speechless.

(C’mon, say something, damnit!)

“I would like to know what you think of me, too…if that’s alright.” Klavier asked thoughtfully. He just gave Apollo an opening, one that he decided to take.

Apollo let out a breath of air. “…If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I ever would have made it this far as an attorney.”

Klavier was about to say something, but Apollo held a hand up to stop him. “Before you tell me how that’s not true, just listen for a second. I was a novice, my former boss was sent to prison on murder charges…I had nowhere to go until the Wright Anything Agency phoned me. And the last thing I expected was to be immediately thrust into investigating a murder from stolen noodle carts and panties.”

Klavier chuckled, which Apollo responded with a chuckle of his own. “…Was it your intention to give me all those hints? When we were in court, it felt like you were guiding me along to finding the answer…I might have gotten a Not Guilty verdict, but at the time, it still didn’t feel like a victory to me.”

“I’m sure you’re already well-aware of this, Apollo, but the most important thing for me was to find the truth…it wasn’t about winning or losing, or a personal battle between attorney and prosecutor. And as a rookie defense attorney, I was positive that you probably wouldn’t have understood that.” Klavier explained, to which Apollo nodded.

“You were right, of course.” Apollo glanced away. “Back then, I didn’t know what it meant to find the truth. I didn’t know what it meant for an attorney to be working together with a prosecutor and share evidence. But you helped me see that the way I was brought up was wrong.” He hesitated to bring up the next thoughts on his mind, but it was now or never. He had to do it.

“…I-I know I always acted like you were the most annoying person on the planet, but I want you to know that I never thought of you in that way.”

(Breathe, Apollo. You can do this.)

When his eyes met Klavier’s, he saw the light shining from the candles reflect on Klavier’s pupils. It was beautiful.

“You mean a lot to me, more than you probably realize.”

Klavier smiled. “You repeated what I told you—”

“I’m not finished.” Apollo bit his lip, and stepped closer to Klavier until they were mere inches apart. Klavier’s eyes widened, but Apollo paid no mind as he stood on his toes and pressed his lips softly onto Klavier’s. It didn’t last long, but he just wanted to get the message across.

You…mean a lot to me. More than you probably realize.”

Klavier just stared at Apollo with his mouth slightly agape, before he finally snapped out of it.

“Apollo…how long?”

Apollo shook his head. “Honestly, I probably couldn’t tell you that. But if I had to guess, it probably started developing around the time you invited Trucy and I to your concert.”

“And you never told me?”

Apollo grew frustrated once more. “It’s not that easy, okay?! For someone like you who has people confessing their love to you on a daily basis, maybe. But for someone like me…”

Klavier watched quietly as Apollo tried to stop his body from shaking. When a few minutes had passed, Klavier took the opportunity to pull Apollo in closer. Apollo’s eyes widened.

“Those people who you say confess their love for me? They’re just fans. They probably say the same thing to their other favorite celebrities. Contrary to popular belief, I’ve never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend.” Klavier smiled as Apollo huffed.

“I don’t believe it. Not even when you were starting out as a rock star?”

Klavier shook his head. “Kind of hard to trust people, you know? Are they dating me because they love me, or are they dating me because I’m famous? Trust is one of the most important factors in a relationship…to me, anyway.”

Apollo looked down. “I see…”

He felt a slight pressure on the top of his head; it took him a moment to realize that Klavier had kissed his head very softly.

“I trust you, Apollo.”

“…What are you saying?” Apollo glanced back up at Klavier, who tilted his head and smiled.

“I’m saying that I feel the same way about you…if you’ll have me.”

Apollo didn’t hear anything else; didn’t see anything else. All of his focus was on Klavier. He wasted no time pulling the other man in and kissing him under the candlelight, just as the snow was beginning to fall once more.

.

.

.

“Happi’raki Khu’khurist!”

A chorus of shouts and cheers as the people of Khura’in witnessed the lighting of the hal’abad tree, welcoming Christmas with open arms and many prayers. The concert was a big hit, with many of the younger citizens practically begging Klavier to visit again, which he was more than happy to oblige…although it was probably mostly due to his new boyfriend being the revolutionary defense attorney in this country.

Rayfa was overseeing the festival of prayers, where everyone knelt down in prayer for hours on end until the candles on the hal’abad tree burn out. It was mildly amusing seeing how serious Rayfa was while looking over everyone, but every now and then she would glance at the children with their parents enjoying themselves and huff. Apollo decided maybe he’ll buy her a festive pastry later.

Nahyuta was helping Rayfa with her duties whenever possible, but for the most part he was done with the festivities and decided to go back to Justice Law Office to rest up. He wasn’t alone, however, as Ema, Ahlbi, and Datz were also enjoying themselves in the warmth of the office. Didn’t Khura’inists enjoy the cold? Or maybe they were just enjoying each other’s company, which Apollo thought was far more plausible.

All in all, the festival was a success. His first Christmas in Khura’in…Apollo now had more memories to share with Trucy and Athena, and everyone else back home in the States. And of course, more memories to come with Klavier.

“So just out of curiosity, Herr Forehead…what did you REALLY think of me when you first saw me up on stage…?”

“OBJECTION! No comment.”

[trbl-will-find-me]

Every Exit, An Entrance (18/?)

There are two (and only two) possibilities: either she led XCOM to victory and they are now engaged in a clean up operation of alien forces, or XCOM was overrun, clearing the way for an alien-controlled puppet government to seize control of the planet.

She’d really like to figure out which it is, but asking hardly seems the prudent option.

Central is arguing with a man on the viewscreen as she dismounts the stairs from her quarters to the bridge. Behind him, Sally and Kelly exchange what she suspects are meant to be surreptitious looks. They are about as subtle as a clown in day glo face paint. She raises her eyes at them, waiting for them to realize their error. Sally spots her first, and offers her a broad grin in response.

It occurs to her that she may not be quite as fearsome as she hopes.

Strike One had their fair share of chuckles, too, she reminds herself. Besides, would you rather be the person the crew feels safe to talk freely with, or the one who demands their respect for no reason other than your rank?

There is no contest in her mind.

“I’m not exactly having drinks with them!” Central proclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “And they did keep their end of the bargain.”

“He’s wasting his breath,” Sally mutters. “This conversation never goes anywhere.” “What’s going on?”

“Drunk diplomacy with our closest allies. That’s Volk. He’s the head of the Reapers.”

She turns, eyeing Central. “He seems sober enough.”

“Yeah, for now.”

She looks to Jane, hoping for some kind of explanation.

“The Reapers make the closes thing you can get to vodka,” she says.

“And Central can’t turn it down,” Sally adds. “The benders are legendary.”

“Oh, good.”

“Volk’s requesting an in-person meet and greet,” Kelly explains. “He thinks it’s high time he met you.”

“He thinks it’s high time?”

“Volk’s … a character,” Sally shrugs. “He runs a good org, but. You’ll see.”

“I’m filled with confidence.”

“He’s not … okay, yeah. He is that bad.”

The screen cuts to black. “Commander,” Central says, turning his attention to her. “That was Konstantin Volikov, head of the Reapers. His people helped get you out. He’s requesting a meeting.”

She nods. “Does he have a place in mind?”

“Their turf. Northwestern US.”

“Can they be trusted?” “They’ve got no love for ADVENT.”

She considers this for a moment. “Let’s get going, then. Any word on new recruits?”

“We’ve got energy signatures from the north central US,” Kelly answers. “It make be worth it to stop and make contact if we can spare the time.”

“Central?” The Commander asks.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Slowly, life has begun the trek towards normalcy. Thomas’s tactless jokes have made a return, as well as the near-nightly card games. Zaytsev is almost ready to return to duty, and Shen’s team is hard at work on some new idea. Despite everything that has happened, and everything that is yet to come, life moves along.

There is still one thing that lingers in her mind, though, a memory she can’t shake. They had stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, for longer than they’d really needed to, longer than they really should have. For all that he is not the John Bradford she once knew, he is close enough to reignite the old ache in her chest.

Stop it, she tells herself. You’re just stressed. Stressed and touch-starved. You barely know him.

But you could get to know him again. Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? Another part of her brain counters.

He made his feelings abundantly clear, she reminds herself. Even if he trusts you, it’s a far cry from where you were. The memory of his accusation weighs heavy in her stomach. You’ve finally made some progress. Don’t fuck it up because you’re needy.

She catches Sally’s eye. “Not a word, you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am,” she says lightly.

--

Her shift has been quiet thus far, a handful of energy spikes, but nothing unusual. Someone is playing NORAD’s Santa tracker updates over the PA, reminding one and all that it is holiday time and they are all still here, underground and far from the ones they love. It is not how she would have chosen to spend her Christmas Eve.

Picking up her datapad, she scrolls through the pictures that her parents sent, a beautiful tree in the main room of their apartment in Rome, delicious baked goods from the pastry shops, and their smiling faces. It is the first Christmas she’ll spend away from them, a reality she had never anticipated when she’d accepted the position. All the cheery -- distinctly non-regulation -- string lights, trees, menorahs, and snowmen don’t make up for the knowledge that she should be with her family.

It’s not a train of thought she can let herself linger on. The dearth of real light in the base already plays havoc with her if she lets her guard down. She doesn’t need to add to the discontent already simmering beneath her skin.

Happy thoughts, she reminds herself. Happy thoughts. The Council was pleased with the SHIV report, and there’s talk of additional research funding being allocated. She seemed confident enough in his ability to falsify the intrusion. We might just make it through after all.

All of a sudden, the Hologlobe flickers and the power dims. Bile rises in her throat, and she reaches for the gun in her shoulder holster. We haven’t had any hostile contact. There’s no way they could surprise us again. We hit them hard. We knocked their ship out of existence. It has to be over.

“Central?” She says, pressing a finger to the comm link in her ear. “Shen? Vahlen?”

Nothing.

The globe bursts back to life, along with the terminals and other electrical systems.

Except the comms.

Except their internal monitoring.

They are operating in the blind.

It is as if all of her very worst nightmares have come to pass.

The door connecting Mission Control to the Armory slides open and she tenses, bracing for the worse. Instead she is greeted by two-fifths of Strike One, weapons in hand.

“What was that?” Hershel calls from her position. “Do we have a breach?”

“Unknown.”

“Unknown?”

“You heard me. We’ve got no internal monitoring.”

“I knew comms were down, but feeds too?”

“Far as anyone can tell.” She does not like this. “You two know where Molchetti, Bernard, and Martin are?  You know, in case we do have a problem.”

“Edouard was in the infirmary last I knew, working with some of last week’s training injuries,” Royston offers. “I’d assume he’s still there.”

“Bernard’s still in bed after his little soiree last night,” Hershel adds. “Molchetti was in the Mess.”

“Do we have internal monitoring back?” She asks the room.

“No, ma’am,” comes the chorus of replies.

“Shit.”

Her datapad buzzes. What the hell happened? Central’s message reads.

Trying to figure that out, she types back. Hoping it’s not a breach, but can’t confirm.

Can’t confirm?

No internal feed.

Fuck.

“Castiglione, Hollis,” she begins. “Head for Engineering. Grab Dr. Shen and bring him back. Williamson, Moreau, go to the labs and find Dr. Vahlen. Everyone else, do what you can to get us back up.”

She unpins her hair and runs a hand through it. We just had a major power disruption, we’re operating in the blind, and we have no comms. How does this get worse?

There is a sudden crash from somewhere underneath them.

-- It’s an uneventful morning. The weather is good for flying and they remain far enough out of the way to avoid any ADVENT patrols.

She does what she can to feel useful.

She updates the inventory on guns and supplies, checks in with Shen’s team on their armor prototypes, and visits Tygan in his lab. She collects the beer bottles from around the quarters, and empties out the ash trays, making a mental note to do something about the crew’s smoking on board.

Time stretches out in front of her.

She misses having something to do. Yes, there is commandeering and planning and strategizing, but at the moment, they have a plan, one they are working to execute as quickly as possible. Her quarters are clean, the crew quarters and cleaner, and she is at a loss.

She misses having practical distractions, some small task to eat at the idle minutes. She’d always had knitting or sewing or a book to read. Even during the invasion, she’d kept a stash of yarn and needles, something to do on the late nights when sleep remained solidly out of her grasp.

She misses the internet, misses the convenience of streaming movies and her enormous music collection. Reddit wasn’t always the wisest place to spend her time, but it was a reliable distraction. Now, she has nothing.

She knows she could watch the ADVENT feed, try to glean something useful about their enemy. Her tolerance for propaganda has always been low, but her tolerance for boredom is even worse.

She dangles backwards off her couch like some petulant teenager, legs hooked over the backrest.

It makes for an awkward moment of rearranging when the knock comes at her door. “In!” She calls.

Sally stands in the doorway with what looks like an old laptop in her arms. “Is that really how people sat on the couch before the invasion, ma’am?”

She rolls her eyes. “If you can’t treat the couch like a jungle gym, then what’s the point?”

“Jungle gym?”

“You know … like …  slide, monkey bars, climbing things?”

“Maman was always too nervous to let me near one. Not enough cover.“

“Sounds like your mom. What do you need?”

She offers the device to the Commander. “Central says you’re making him nervous.”

She takes the computer, and quirks an eyebrow. “So, he sent you to bring me a laptop?”

“One of the Resistance side projects: salvaging old media. There’s a lot on there.”

“Old media?”

“Movies, tv shows, things like that. We used to get what we could in the bigger havens.”

“When you say old…”

“I didn’t see five seasons of The Twilight Zone because ADVENT was broadcasting it.”

“So, when you start yelling about ‘it’s a cookbook’ when he gives the ‘don’t eat the ADVENT meat rations’ speech, it is because you get the reference, then.“

“Central did what he could to make sure I wasn’t totally illiterate in the field of ‘we were warned.’”

She chuckles. “Sounds about right. I used to call Chryssalids ‘chestbusters’ for the same reason.”

“That one I’ve heard.”

She shakes her head fondly. “My thanks, Sal. And pass it on to him, too.”

Sally offers her a half-salute and heads back for her station on the bridge. The Commander returns to her prior position, opening the laptop and setting it up against her legs.

He’s still there, underneath everything, she tells herself, and boots up the device.

--

They have identified the source of the outage: a coordinated power spike from two of the Fog Pods in their possession.

They still have no comms, and no internal sensors. They have resorted to sending teams through the base to manually search for incursions, keeping in contact via walkie-talkie.

She has seen this movie before; she does not like how it ends.

They have, at least, also identified the source of the earlier ruckus. A game of Twilight Struggle had grown too heated and, apparently inspired by the spirit of Nikita Kruschev banging his shoe, one competitor had flipped not only the pieces, but the table itself at his challenger. She is not sure if she should be relieved, or deeply concerned.

“Shen says the system’s been completely fried, “ Central says, coming up alongside her. “We’ll need to replace everything.”

She blinks up at him. “What?”

He nods.

“We can’t repair it?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Can I see you in my office for a moment?”

He nods.

She waits until they are safely ensconced before opening her mouth.

“What are we gonna do? We can’t go to the Council without blowing our cover, but we can’t operate in the blind.”

“We don’t have to tell them where it came from. We can tell them we’re investigating the source.”

“But if they already know? If they’ve just been waiting to catch us?”

“There’s nothing to indicate that they know.”

“But if they do?”

“We don’t have a lot of choices.”

She chews at the cuticle of her thumb. “How long can we operate in the blind?” “There’s a big difference between can and should.”

“Can.”

“There’s no physical impediment, but if we’re hit again, we won’t know until they’re banging down the door to Mission Control. We won’t be able to coordinate a response. Nothing.”

He’s not telling her anything she doesn’t already know. The logic is sound, borne out in past experience. Still, she wishes she could argue.

“Hey,” he says, gently taking her hand from her mouth. “We’re gonna be okay. We were hit with an energy spike of unknown origin, our comms and internal sensors were knocked out, and we need assistance to repair them. There’s nothing untruthful in that statement.”

“We do know the source.”

He shrugs. “Alright, so it’s a little untruthful.”

She swallows hard. “I probably should get it over with. Here’s to Christmas Eve with a dash of mortal terror.”

“Come here, “ he says, pulling her into a hug. She settles against him, tired and terrified, and tries to ground herself in the moment.

“I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he tells her, rubbing slow circles on her back.

“It’s not just me I’m worried about.”

[devilishdewitt]

Cinématrographié Cabaret Show, April 2019

The time has come for the second instalment of Cabaret Show Cinématrographié!

Did it sizzle or shine?

 Read on…

The vivacious Alice Shpiller and her beguiling partner-in-crime Katrin Gajndr brought their cinematographic creation back to it’s namesake location - Cinematographie karaoke.

The theme was, fittingly, ”movies”. The audience were encouraged to dress up as their favourite movie characters, but alas, the public is yet to indulge in the wonders of theme dressing.

The evening began with Alice Shpiller appearing as a modern version of the Little Mermaid - lip-syncing to "Part of Your World”, roaming from table to table & live streaming the whole thing. Her costume was just the right amount of camp (more camp than most Met Gala attendees, GOOD MORNING KARLIE KLOSS), and the performance was a sweet little warmup - perfectly in the style of the show, preparing us for what is to come - genuine beauty with a side of charming goofiness .

All was great! Apart from the wig. 

To be honest, the wig made me quite sad.

Actually, to be perfectly frank, that wig was actively upsetting, darling.

It would be a service to mankind if it were thrown away and allowed to succumb to oblivion.

Shpillers’ hosting was definitely more coherent than last time - the jokes landed, the charm was undeniable and she felt more confident and in control. It was truly entertaining - I was equally excited by the acts and the hosting, and it’s a marvellous feeling!

It wasn’t long until we saw the first burlesque performance of the night - Katrin Gajndrs’ “Woman in Red”, inspired by the 1984 film. Dearest reader, I was smitten. The way she moved, the way she looked at the audience, the drive, the passion, the grace, the fun she had - she cast a powerful spell, not a soul went untouched by her classy, sassy performance. One of the best acts I’ve ever seen in Russia. Yes, you’ve read that right. Flawless mix of irony, indulgence & power in her attitude. The moves were sensually precise, she knew what she was doing and oh lordy was she enjoying it! Brava!

However, even her radiance couldn’t outshine the terror that was the stage lights (if they even deserve such a name). Horrible is a word that covers the situation pretty extensively. On a few particularly painful occasions I imagined that the lights from the audiences phones would do a better job than the chaotic colourful mess that this establishment calls “lights”.

However, even they didn’t take away from the excellence of the beginning of the show. Something else did. Or should I say…someone.

Miss April. Honey. Allow me to help.

You have a delicious chance to learn from the best (I mean Gajndr, not myself, you cheeky little thing!).

No lip colour, flat hair, ordinary lingerie, upsetting lack of the most basic acting skills, lack of story, drive and imagination just won’t do.

Especially when you take something as legendary as Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Especially when you’re on stage straight after Katrin. Especially when you have access to the expert advise of Shpiller & Gajndr! 

Dearest reader, I was infuriated.

A slender lady who happens to be a good dancer walks in looking quite mediocre, bites a pastry, takes a sip of coffee, leaves them on the front table (all this is done with no energy whatsoever), goes on stage, takes off her dress, reveals a very basic set of black underwear (not lingerie) and gets in a bed that the stage kittens have meticulously prepared for her.

What for? What is the purpose? What can you possibly add to Holly Golightly? There’s so much that could’ve been done with this number - take the fact that Holly in the book is much more risqué than Holly in the film and dance the night away with your vision of Capotes timeless heroine!

Were they really so desperate for an act they let this half-baked croissant mop around, languidly perusing the stage?

An act of cruel sympathy, blind hope and/or unnecessary cruelty.

Thank goodness we were saved by Kristabel Otem.

Good God how I love that woman.

Sin City.

Need I say more?

Kristabel Otem.

Sin City.

My little noir heart pounded with inexplicable joy.

It hit every mark, was deliciously erotic, devilishly ironic and just wonderfully done.

And then a miracle appeared.

A sublime beauty.

The Swan Tsarevna.

A costume so gorgeous, I believe my jaw did indeed hang loose in the air for a few moments.

How I wish Lisa Alisa did the costume justice.

It’s a fantastic idea - an iconic Russian fairytale heroine, a song by one the best known folk rock bands in Russia…but unfortunately the performer brought her own brand of haste, hurry & dare I say, clumsiness. Someone, please give that girl a stage presence lesson. She’s literally two steps away from truly spreading her gorgeous wings and embracing her undoubtable talent.

After an intermission full of exciting murmurs, Shpiller emerged in a new emploi - Clockwork Orange diva. It worked marvellously well - the look really suited her, the vibe was playfully ultraviolent and her acting was excellent. There was no shedding of the clothes, but it was an enthralling number.

Overall I vigorously applaud the fact that the spotlight was directed at an eclectic collection of fantastic movies. Moving away from the ordinary does an artwork good!

A new incarnation of Lisa appeared - or did it? A tribute to Sally Rand, white costume, white feather fans, it looked a bit too similar to the Swan Princess act and lacked any character development. It was the same act, but with a different costume. Sigh.

And again, the screeches of excitement…I can imagine it working quite well on a few occasions, but at the moment she’s overusing it.

Shpiller! Contemporary dance tribute to “The Raven”! Unexpected, unusual, perhaps somewhat questionable, but she was convincing and clearly had a story to tell.

It’s her show, so why the hell not?

Kristabel performed as a 1920’s detective (Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries)  and it was splendid. I just love how she unapologetically shows us different sides of her character - a coy Kristabel? Enchanting!

And then came The Dragon. Oh, dear reader, you might already know that I have a deep admiration for the art of Katerina Sahara. Her Dragon was as enrapturing as the first time I saw it. Despite the fact that there were a few technical mishaps (completely unnoticeable by the spectators, I assure you), and that she herself was not particularly pleased with this performance, it was hypnotising. The power! the smoothness! She immediately transports us all to a dimension of gorgeousness. A fantastic act by a fantastic performer.

Ah! Can you hear it? The time has come for the unavoidable venue promotion!

Ringmaster Alice gathered a group of enthusiastic air-musicians (some of them were real musicians, it seemed), the DJ turned on the karaoke version of “Bohemian Rhapsody” and off we went! Alice effortlessly ran from table to table, engaging every single member of the public into everyone’s favourite epic musical number. I do wish she paid a bit more attention to the “band” though, they were left somewhat abandoned on stage while she flew around. It did seem, however, that some of them were indeed entertainers, for they felt quite confident on the stage.

I must say, participating and witnessing it was great fun. Honestly, you can do no wrong with Bohemian Rhapsody, and my God, Shpiller has some pipes!

The grand finale of the night was the famous Cleopatra act by the mistress of the eve, Katrin Gajndr. Bathing in a chalice of real milk, surrounded by two slaves, legends have travelled of the exquisite vision of this act. However, somehow, it just did not deliver. It seemed as if Gajndr was either distracted or upset; there was no energy at all. The slaves were also quite timid and did not do the classic fabulousness of the act any justice. Good morning, this is performing 101 - a smoothing caress of a brush does a wig good.  It’s still a spectacle, of course, but not quite as rich as the majestic Queen of the Nile.

THE FINALE

Ladies, congratulations!

The second instalment of Cinematographie truly was a major improvement from the first show. To put it quite simply, it was fun.

 It was fun! I felt very entertained. Shpiller was feeling her mojo that night, and it was truly intoxicating. Gajndr was extraordinary (yes, even despite Cleopatra not quite rising to the occasion). Lisa Alisa had moments of divine beauty, Sahara stayed true to her fabulous brand, Kristabel revealed more colours of her tremendously intriguing diamond, and Miss April…well, everybody’s gotta start somewhere, right?

Extremely excited to see what they cook up next!

✶✶✶✶

UPDATE

As this review was being prepared, the next show has been announced - July 6th, Yes I Can-Can, in honor of Katrin’s birthday! And at a theatrical venue, too - how very curious!

[johnny-chaos]

there’s a section of audio missing from the Holly Streams Pastries!! vod and i love how the auto-captions in the corner pause after she talks about monks in monasteries, and then just say “come on man.” and smth about getting up for a stretch. and then a second later “you’re going to hell”

[buyjordanshoesvq]

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