#the mom equivalent of smooth jazz

[yuri-is-online]

The Quiet Part (Azul, Jade, and Trey x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, in-law fishing (Azul and Jade) vs sibling smack down (Trey), if you liked this please check my master list here.

Azul

"Well aren't you just darling!" You fold your clipboard just a bit closer to your chest, you don't think this excitable plump lady is intending to intimidate you but she is all up in your personal space. Her pearlescent hair frames her face perfectly, nicely complementing her large black hat that reminds you of a Victorian aristocrat on her way to the opera. She just lacks the fancy cigarette case.

"Hey lady back off my hench human! You're spooking 'em!" Grim pouts with his hands on his hips but only succeeds in changing her attention to him.

"And you must be the dire beast! Simply marvelous I didn't think Zuzu would let me have a chance to see you two at all." She sighs, clearly happy in a vaguely sinister way where her familiar looking smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Oh where are my manners? I'm-"

"Mother!" A very flusterd octopus runs, well more like flails, his way up the main street towards the woman your speaking with, but she doesn't do more than wave before returning to her conversation with you.

"-Mrs. Ashengrotto! Say darling are you free for a bit?" She's back to crowding you once again while Azul moves in between the two of you. "I have been so looking forward to meeting my poopsy's friends."

"Mother please, the prefect is extremely busy. There's no need for them to show you around campus, what sort of son would I be if I-"

"That's besides the point." Mrs. Ashengrotto's smile doesn't fade but the warmth of her voice most certainly does. Still Azul remains firm, extending an arm to keep you from moving towards his mother, or maybe to keep her from closing in on you? "You can't expect me to not be curious! You never have written such glowing things about-"

"That's enough mother." Grim yanks on your pant leg and points towards the path to Sam's shop.

"It is not poopsy you can't just ask for advice and then refuse every opportunity to use it." Mrs. Ashengrotto huffs in disappointment and elegantly shakes her finger as you and Grim begin to slowly inch away.

"I have no idea what it is you are talking about mother," Azul pushes his glasses further up his face, silently pleading with you to run faster "and I am certain the prefect doesn't either so please, allow me to escort you to the Monstro Lounge that you have been so eager to see." His mother pouts, pouts! At him puffing her cheeks up with air before finally looking behind him and realizing you aren't there.

"Oh absolutely not, I am not letting this fish out of my net." She mutters muscling her son out of the way. "Yoo hoo! Darling are you certain you can't at least stay for dinner?"

"Mother!"

"Or maybe forever?"

"MOTHER!"

Jade

"Well now, this is a surprise, watcha doin here Jade?" Grim asks as you step foot into the Pomefiore lounge. Normally asking Jade anything is akin to sticking your foot in your mouth but you have to admit, you are sort of curious why Jade and Vil, the two most composed people on campus, are standing awkwardly in the corner clearly a bit out of place while two men you assume are their father's seem to be having a grand time chatting it up on the couch. Disturbingly, Jade makes eye contact with you with a look you almost think is screaming for help.

"Yoooo!" The Leech father is tall, and the speed with which he snaps up off the couch and approaches you does not help at all with his naturally intimidating aura. "You've gotta be the prefect right? Mr. Leech!" He extends a hand and you look at Jade who just smiles at you as you gingerly take his father's hand and immediately regret it with how he nearly snaps your arm off with his hand shake.

"Um yes that's me, can I help you?" You wince and try to avoid rolling your wrist too much. Mr. Leech looks a bit confused.

"Mhm? Don't you have any folks visiting today?" You look at Jade who reluctantly draws attention to himself with a cough.

"Their situation is a bit unique father." You're thankful Jade doesn't say more than that

"Well why didn't you say that? Now I look like an ass." Mr. Leech claps the back of his head and mutters. "And here I had everything I wanted to say to the in laws planned out already, shit." He turns back to you with a smile and Vil's dad lets out an elegant laugh.

"From a certain point of view that makes your task easier no?" Vil's father says as Jade reluctantly moves out of the corner towards his father, clearly looking for an excuse to get him out of Vil's hair.

"If you are done saying hello to your friend, would you like to see some of the mountain lover's club projects?" Jade asks, already gently herding him towards the door as his father shrugs.

"Sure, you coming kid?" Why is he looking at you and why is Jade giving you that strange look again? "Jade's told his mom all about your hikes, gotta admit I don't really get the appeal myself but it sounds like you two have a grand old time with it."

"The headmage technically has me-" Mr. Leech wraps one arm around your shoulder and another around Jade's and resumes the march towards the door.

"Aww don't worry about that!" It's clear you aren't getting out of this with just how terrified Grim is, he's practically rooted to his spot as Mr. Leech loosens his grip to wave over his shoulder at Vil and his dad. "See ya next Sunday Eric!"

"Good luck! Don't scare them off!"

Trey

Two small children stare up at you with sharp eyes, judgmentally you think but you can't be too sure. "You are the prefect right?" Asks the little boy, definitely judgmentally. "I thought you would be prettier or at least more handsome."

"Hey!" snaps his sister, who doesn't hesitate to hit him in a display that you are sure would give her parents a headache. "Big brother never lies to us about stuff!" Her brother scowls and rubs his head.

"Big brother lies all the time, what else do you call those 'secret ingredients' of his?" He goes back to staring you down and you and Grim exchange a look.

"Yeah but not to us." The little girl crosses her arms and stares her brother down sternly. "He would never lie about something like that. Besides did you see how dopey he looks when he talks about them?" The little boy looks away from you with a pout, almost like you stole his toy or something while his sister rolls her eyes. "It is so obvious- you would absolutely know if you were a girl."

"That's got nothing to do with it! I'm just worried you know, it's important to make sure they pass the sniff test." He looks like he is questioning if he can get away with hitting his sister in front of you as you desperately look around for any sign of these kids' parents. "You would totally know if you were a boy."

"Uhhh hench human," Grim poorly whispers "you don't think these two are..." he doesn't finish his sentence but as you both examine the bickering duo you start to note all the little similarities between them and-

"Hey you two aren't causing problems on purpose are you?" Trey looks down sternly on the two kids who completely ignore his tone and jump on him immediately.

"TREY!"

"Are you gonna show us the hedgehogs?!" squeals the little girl.

"Forget that, I wanna see the Coliseum!" cheers the little boy. You breathe a sigh of relief, and wave to Trey getting ready to continue your patrol when the little girl looks after you confused.

"Aren't you gonna come?" She asks, so sweetly in comparison to the heat you're taking from her brother. Trey smiles at you, but he can't really bring himself to keep eye contact.

"The prefect's busy, I'm sure. They don't need to be running around after us all day." He sets them both down and starts herding them towards the mirror, shooting you a wink over his shoulder as he flicks his little brother on the forehead for sticking his tongue out at you. His sister sighs and you swear you hear her whine that-

"You just want to keep them to yourself. You can't keep me away forever, I swear I'll be a good wing woman, you're waaaay too lame to get a date yourself Trey!" You awkwardly look back down at your clipboard as Grim desperately tries to do the math in his head.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #trey clover x reader #i think azul's mom should be like #the mom equivalent of smooth jazz #she deserves to cover her mouth with her hand and go “ohohohoho” #“please marry my son I raised him so he knows how to cook <3”

[cockatrice-writers-guild]

LOVESTORY - Chp 1

in which syren almost gets a giant to cap her

warnings: none

You have to handle the selectively mute with care. If you were going to take them out of their comfort zone, you would need to gradually ease them out of it. Then they would slowly adjust to the new environment and everything would be fine. That was what the internet told me and that’s what I was inclined to believe was the truth.

Naturally, my parents thought the best way to slowly integrate me into the world of velkis was by forcing me to go to school with them in the middle of my high school education. Joy. I personally thought this was the equivalent of pouring a bucket of blood on my head and pushing me into a shark tank but I digress. I’m all about compromise. If my parents wanted me to go to an integrated school so badly, then I would go. But they were going to have to drag me there by my COLD, DEAD-

-

I stared out the car window and watched the scenery fly by. I sighed. Curse my natural aversion to any kind of conflict. Mom was driving me to school even though she had to leave for work like an hour ago. She said she’d already talked things over with her superiors and they’d allowed her to but that didn’t stop me from feeling guilty.

“Are you excited for you first day?” Mom asked.

“I guess so,” I replied.

I couldn’t deny that I was a least a little excited. New experiences were always exciting at first. But then you actually experienced them and they sucked and it all went downhill from there.

“You’ll be fine, sweetie! I know velkis may seem a bit scary at first but trust me, they’re just like you and me. You’ll get used to them in no time!”

I found that highly unlikely (the getting used to them thing. Not the them being the same as us thing).

“Sure,” I said, since I didn’t want to seem like a disgrace.

Mom seemed content with that because the conversation stopped there. Or maybe I was so socially inept I couldn’t even keep a conversation with my own mother going (then again, Mom was never really much of a talker when she drove). I went back to staring blankly out the window, feeling restless. I usually liked long car rides but the tension was killing me. A completely new life filled with completely new people. On the bright side, at least none of my old classmates would really miss me.

Mom’s favourite station was playing on the radio but even smooth jazz couldn’t stop me from completely losing it at the sight across from us when we finally made it onto the highway. Velki sized cars. The first I’d ever seen in person. They were on a different lane, separated by a stretch of land planted with evenly spaced velki sized trees and, well, they were huge (the cars that is. There was a velki sized forest next to the pseudo city so I knew how big the trees could get). It was almost surreal in a way. Breathtaking even. And I’d be acquainting myself with their occupants in just a few minutes. I rested my head against the back of my seat and closed my eyes, trying to drown out my thoughts with passionate saxophone.

-

The car stopped too soon.

I was tempted to stall but didn’t want to make Mom even later than she already was so I just picked up my backpack and got out of the car. Mom smiled and I imagined her holding an empty bucket that was previously filled with blood (also wearing overalls for some reason but that’s probably not important).

“Have fun on your first day, honey! Love you!”

‘Love you too,’ I didn’t say back because the new environment activated my voice boxes’ trap card. I smiled instead.

And then she pushed me into the- I mean, she drove away.

I tried to shake off the feeling of abandonment as her car shrunk into the distance, turned a corner and disappeared around the bend. I just stood there, staring at the empty road for a solid minute, silently willing her to come back. She didn’t. After taking a few deep breaths, I turned and faced the school.

Let me give you a quick rundown. Brazburn High. Lovingly referred to as BB in student forums. Overall, it was pretty…normal? I mean, it had all the standard classes and clubs. It won a few awards over the years but…nothing too flashy. It was almost comforting in a way. Like ‘Hey, I know we teach literal titans here but let’s talk about the silver medal our debate team won 2 years ago instead!’

Student body wise, the school was quite small but the building itself was gigantic. I had to crane my neck to even see the top. The walls stretched seemingly forever in either direction and every acre was painted a nice stereotypical cream colour with brown highlights every now and then. To put it lightly, it was the most stereotypical looking school I’d ever seen in my entire life. A set of normal sized (or I guess human sized?) glass double doors stood open invitingly and they were absolutely minuscule compared to the wall they were connected to. The effect of this was both terrifying and hilarious.

Mostly terrifying.

A few human students were lounging around outside the doors, sitting on the edges of large brick planters filled with trees and flowers and talking to each other. Again, all good from my perspective. Just a normal door with twin brick planters on either side. Standard school entrance. But to a velki, it probably looked like 2 tiny brick flowerpots were placed in front of an equally tiny door in the middle of an otherwise empty expanse with literally no other features, which was…just kinda funny, honestly. Speaking of which, there were no velkis in sight. I guess the velki entrance must have been elsewhere. I treasured my last few velki-free moments as I slowly walked to the doors. Then I walked faster because the human students were starting to stare. I glanced up at the clear blue sky as if I’d never see it again and stepped into the school.

The blast of air conditioning hit me and I hugged my arms as I looked around. I was standing in a normal sized hallway with several closed doors. For a second, I almost thought they were human exclusive classrooms before actually reading the signs on them as I passed. Nurses’ office. Counselling. Storage closet. Resources. And finally, a store to buy school supplies. Darn. That left only the door at the end, which was also propped open. I could hear voices on the other side and the anxiety was almost enough to stop me in my tracks. I didn’t know anyone in this building! I was the New Kid! PEOPLE WOULD STARE AT ME!

I forced myself to keep moving. The voices got louder and louder (and louder?). Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here. It was only two years. Velkis were just really tall people, right? I could handle people (no I couldn’t!). I could do anything I put my mind to! I’m SYREN JONES!

I walked through the door with newfound (fake) confidence, felt it deflate like a balloon at the sight in front of me and almost walked right back out with my metaphorical tail between my legs. The hallway emptied out into another hallway. But this one was significantly larger. Also, it was filled with velkis. Of course it was.

I had done some research beforehand to try to mentally prepare myself for this moment when I realized I couldn’t talk my parents out of making me go but the truth was I was kidding myself when I thought videos and online help sites could have ever prepared me for the real deal. The way their voices boomed far overhead. The shadows they cast. THEIR SIZE. And the humans were just walking around them, completely unfazed.

I, however, was completely frozen in the doorway. That is, until I heard someone behind me say, “Excuse me.”

I shot out of the hallway and sped walked right into the fray, more ready to deal with the living skyscrapers than the consequences of having minorly inconvenienced someone.

Full-on panicking and functioning partially on survival instincts, I immediately hugged the nearest wall and watched as shoes the size of trucks slammed into the ground mere meters away. My heart was pounding furiously. If one of the velkis so much as tripped, I would die. HOW DID THE OTHER HUMANS HANDLE THIS? I wanted to go home. I couldn’t move. I…was moving anyway?

I hadn’t noticed it before what with my brain being clouded by fear and all but the scenery was moving. At quite a fast pace too. Red lockers (human sized ones were under the velki sized ones) passed by in almost a blur. Even more bizarre was that though I was planted to the ground, I was keeping up with the velki students, which shouldn’t have been possible for…well, a number of reasons, really. Confused, I looked down.

I was on a human sized travellator.

Ah.

It took a while but after I finally managed to calm down, I noticed that all the students generally seemed to be going in the same direction (though some were loitering). Luckily, so was the travellator I’d accidentally stumbled onto. I started walking, praying that none of the velkis would just happen to look down and see me. I would have exploded.

After a few hours (minutes) of pure undulated tension, the end of the travellator was finally within my grasp. Also within my grasp was the destination of all the other students: a huge doorway that everyone was filing into. I guess this was my stop. I got off and after watching the other human students walk past and around the moving feet of the velkis, opted to wait out the rush. It took…longer than I care to admit.

I stepped through the oversized doorway and took a look around, trying to assess the situation. This room was enormous. The walls were yellow, there was a stage up at the front and…and the sound of approaching footsteps made me remember that I was STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF AN OPEN DOORWAY. I immediately lost all composure and bolted to the nearest wall, pressing my back to it. My heart hammered as the next batch of students entered and I slowly sidled away, trying to put as much distance as I could between me and the velkis while drawing as little attention to myself as possible. I looked around the room as I did. The other human and velki students were just kind of walking around, doing their own thing. Some humans were even talking to velkis and vice versa. Great. And here I was, cowering against a frickin wall. I couldn’t even talk to people my size. I couldn’t do this. I needed to text Mom and beg her to pick me up. Surely she woul-.

My train of thought was cut short when I bumped into a wall. Seems I got carried away with the sidling. I barely spared the black surface a passing glance before turning and leaning on it. That was a bit better. Now that I was more comfortable, I properly observed the room. Velkis and humans were wandering around and talking. A stage and a podium were placed way up at the front of the room. I was in the school hall, then. Huge colourful banners displaying happy students (classic school propaganda) hung from the walls. Normal stuff, just a million times bigger. No one seemed to have noticed me, which was pretty nice. Heck, it was almost like they were actively avoiding me. There was a noticeable gap between me and everyone else but I decided not to dwell on it. There were plenty of empty spaces between groups of students. Black was a weird colour choice for the walls though.

Wait, where’d that come from?

The wall across from me was painted a dull yellow…so where did I-?

My eyes widened and what I could only describe as pure terror slowly seeped into my very core as my brain connected the dots. The smiling students on the banners now seemed to be mocking me.

WHAT WAS I LEANING ON?

I spun and looked at the black surface. It reflected the light coming off the ceiling. Walls weren’t supposed to be shiny. It wasn’t even flat like a wall should be. It curved. Walls don’t curve. Also, there was a faint smell, almost like…shoe polish.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Ice filled my body and I did the thing I probably should have done first.

I looked up.

And from way, way up there, a huge face stared down at me, a small smile playing on his lips. I stared back, absolutely frozen. My brain was short circuiting at the absolute size of this guy. I’D SEEN BUILDINGS SHORTER THAN HIM. He was dressed in all black too, but I felt like that was highly irrelevant at the moment. As far as I could tell, this guy had the same idea as me in terms of socializing with other people and sought refuge at this wall. AND THEN I HAD BUMPED INTO HIS SHOE. AND LEANED ON IT FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG. AND HE WAS STILL LOOKING AT ME.

I could feel my face heating up. For a hot second, I considered asking the giant to mercy kill me. Ah. But that would require speaking, which I could not do at the moment. So we continued staring at each other, him with mild amusement, me craving the sweet release of death. I’m pretty sure this would have gone on forever had the sudden screech of a microphone not jarred us both.

A tall (even by velki standards) balding man in a suit greeted us with a smile and told us to take a seat, which I did, sitting on the floor and crossing my legs. There were chairs of various sizes near the front of the room but I was perfectly content here. That is, until I felt the ground shake. I turned and to my utter horror, found that the emo kid was sitting next to me.

I glanced up at him. He wasn’t looking at me anymore but that small smile was still plastered on his face.

Was he…messing with me? Did this count as bullying? Did someone put him up to this? Was he just keeping me company? Did he just not want to walk all the way to the front? WHAT WAS HIS DEAL?

Then he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and his smile grew just slightly. HE WAS MESSING WITH ME! Or maybe he just caught me gawking at him and thought it was funny. Or maybe it was a nervous smile. Was I making him uncomfortable? He was here first after all. Should I move? I WAS STILL STARING.

I quickly looked down at my lap, my face hot. I’d already embarrassed myself royally and I’d only been here for like an hour. Today was not a good day.  

…at least I’d never see this guy again, right?

…right?

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#writeblr #original writing #original story #Syren and Thaddeus #OCs #the rooster crows

[five-rivers]

Interview with a Ghost (part 4: Strange)

Sort of a tenuous connection to the prompt.  Oh, well.  

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

.

.

.

They had asked the Fenton parents for an interview with Daniel Fenton to ask him about things he might have seen at school. They had agreed, heartily, but had insisted on staying because 'the kids are a little biased towards Phantom, teens, you know,' and they wanted to keep the record straight.

The other two children had, with extreme reluctance, gone home. His sister, however, had refused to leave, saying that she knew just as much about things at the school as Danny, and they might as well question her at the same time. Collins couldn't really argue with that, and he had elbowed Paterson when she tried.

Daniel looked very small and meek against the large armchair he was perched on. Nothing at all like Phantom, who projected personality and confidence even when nervous.

Collins could see how he had gotten away with... whatever he had gotten away with... for so long. He still wasn't entirely convinced that Fenton was Phantom. It seemed pretty incredible, and there wasn't any physical evidence. Especially with the body gone.

Paterson took out a pad of paper and a recorder. "Do you mind if I record this?" she asked. "For record keeping purposes."

"Not at all!" said Jack, grinning. "We're glad to be of help!"

Daniel looked at the recorder as if he thought he'd be ill. He looked pale. Almost green. Was that because he was a ghost, or was he really just that nervous?

"Alright," said Collins. "Do you see Phantom around Casper High?"

"Not really," said Daniel.

"Everyone does," said Jasmine.

The siblings glanced at each other.

"I try to stay away from the ghost fights," said Daniel, shrugging.

"Yes. Your classmates seem to think that you have some kind of sixth sense, as you always leave class right before an attack."

Daniel's eyebrows pinched together in genuine confusion. "They think what?" He shook his head. "I just leave when I need to go," he said.

Paterson looked up from her notepad. "Go as in...?"

"You know, go," said Daniel, a blush dusting his features with pink.

"I see," said Paterson. Daniel blushed harder.

"Have you ever spoken to Phantom?" asked Collins.

"Yes," said Jasmine, crisply, to murmurs of disapproval from her parents. "He saved me from from Spectra. The ghost who masqueraded as a psychologist."

"I remember that," said Paterson. "Old Elroy had that case." It was from before the existence of ghosts had been widely accepted, even in Amity Park. "You were one of her victims?"

"I'm the one she tried to blow up."

"Ah," said Collins. "And what did you talk about?"

"With Spectra?"

"With Phantom."

"Nothing much," said Jasmine. "Not that I remember, anyway. It was over a year ago."

"Try to remember," said Collins.

Jasmine shrugged. "I think it was basically just agreeing that Spectra was terrible."

"Have you had any other interactions with Phantom?"

"None worth mentioning," said Jasmine.

What a strange way to phrase that. Collins decided not to call her on it, yet. Even with Paterson pointedly poking his ankle with her toe.

"Daniel, what about you?"

"It's Danny," the boy corrected. "I've never really talked to him. Unless you want to count things like 'look out!'"

"Nothing about his origins, then?"

"No?" said Danny.

"Have you heard anything about his origins from anywhere else?"

"We already told you about that," interrupted Maddie, frowning. "His origins are unknown, but he's existed for hundreds of years, at a minimum."

"Yes, but we'd like to hear from Danny and Jasmine," said Collins, giving Maddie his best professional smile. He turned back to Danny, expectantly.

"Someone once told me they thought he was a plague doctor, but, like, updated. I don't remember who, though."

"Right," said Collins. "Now, we'd like you to think back to about two years ago. Call it late summer, early fall. Did anything strange happen around that time?"

"Yeah," said Danny. "The Lunch Lady attacked the school for the first time. I don't remember the exact date, but it was right before the meat-vegetable protests."

"It was that early?" asked Collins, surprised. "That's months before the first recorded attack! Are you sure there was a ghost?"

"Pretty sure, yeah," said Danny, crossing his arms.

"Hey! That's about when we saw Phantom for the first time!" exclaimed Jack.

"Is it?" asked Collins.

"Yeah! He stole our prototype Fenton thermos! I still don't understand how he got it working." The last was a grumble.

"Interesting. And did anything strange happen other than that? Anything out of the norm?"

"Well," said Maddie, thoughtful, "we got our portal working about a month before that. Danny did, anyway."

"Did he? How?"

"Knocked a loose wire back into place!" boomed Jack, laughing. "That's my boy."

Danny's face was whey-colored again. Interesting.

Oh, hell. The portal definitely had something to do with all of this, didn't it.

"How does your portal work, exactly, anyway?"

"Excellent question!"

Fifteen minutes later, Collins had no better idea of how their portal worked except that it involved a great deal of ectoplasm and electricity, both of which they had found on the corpse. He couldn't help but think that he had finally discovered how Phantom had died.

And hearing Jack and Maddie, the boy's parents talk about the portal with such obvious pride while Danny squirmed in the armchair, looking for an escape...

"Thank you," said Collins, quickly, while Jack drew a breath. "I think that's all we need for today."

"But-" started Paterson.

"It's really all we need," repeated Collins. He saw Danny relax, marginally. "Just one more thing. Do you know anything about the break in at the city morgue last night?"

Various expressions flicked over the Fentons' faces. Jack's and Maddie's were blank. Danny's was was angry. Jasmine's was, surprisingly, guilty.

Did she steal the body? Collins would have never guessed it. The image she presented was too neat and mannered.

"Was it a ghost?" asked Maddie. "I'm afraid we can't do anything about it, otherwise."

"Right," said Collins. "We'll contact you if that evolves to be the case. And-"

"Oh, I can't take it anymore!" exclaimed Paterson. She pointed at Danny. "Are you Phantom?"

Danny jumped about a foot. "Wh-What? Nooooooooo. No, I'm not Phantom. I'm alive, aren't I?"

Damn. If that wasn't all but a confession.

The other Fentons started to laugh. The adults heartily. Jasmine uneasily.

"You've been listening to what's-his-name, haven't you? The West boy?"

"Weston," corrected Maddie. "No matter how many times we explained things to him..." She sighed. "I think there's something wrong with him, to be honest. But just to assuage your doubts..." She stood up and walked over to Danny. "Danny, do you mind."

"Nope," said Danny, standing up and holding out his wrist.

Maddie beckoned the detectives forward. "Here," she said, "feel this." She tapped her fingers on Danny's wrist.

"Go ahead," said Danny, staring up at him with a mix of apprehension and determination.

Collins put his fingers on Danny's wrist, on his pulse point. Danny's skin was smooth and cool, but not at all corpselike, or what Collins imagined a ghost would feel like.

"I have a pulse," said Danny. "Ghosts don't." Sure enough, Collins' fingers detected a slow but steady thump thump thump.

Maddie nodded. "Their closest equivalent is more of a constant rush. I could explain the science... but you were just leaving."

"Yes. Sorry about that. My partner can be a bit susceptible to conspiracy theories. I had to talk her out of hiring a psychic, once."

"Thank goodness you did," said Maddie, smiling. "Almost all psychics are fake."

.

"They don't believe it," said Danny, watching the detectives pull away from the curb below from the window of his room.

"Mom and dad? Of course not," said Jazz. "They won't believe you're Phantom unless you show them outright."

"No, the detectives. They don't believe I'm human. They still think I'm Phantom."

"Danny," said Jazz, cautiously. "Don't do anything rash."

"It isn't like I can make this any worse," said Danny. "I'm going to talk to them."

.

"What was that?" complained Paterson. "I never tried to hire a psychic!"

"Yeah, but you did agree that we wouldn't out Phantom in front of his parents. He said he doesn't want his family to know about him, and I don't want an angry ghost trying to throttle me! He can bench press a bus! I don't want his hands anywhere near my throat." He inhaled deeply and sighed. "At least we know what did him in."

"Do you?" asked a very cold voice.

It was a testament to Collins' steely nerves and rigorous police training that he didn't immediately crash the car upon finding a ghost in the back seat. Paterson nearly threw herself out of the car.

"Hi, Phantom," he said, instead, looking at the young ghost in the rear view mirror. "I don't suppose you know what happened to your body."

The ghost scowled. "It wasn't me. I told you to stop messing with stuff."

"Who, then? Your sister?"

Phantom's scowl deepened to something like rage. "Leave her out of this."

"Oh, god, you really are Fenton," said Paterson.

In her defense, Collins hadn't completely believed it, either.

Varied emotions passed over the ghost's face. "Come on, you don't believe Wes, do you?"

"There's other evidence," said Collins, voice wavering just a little. "I don't know how you're keeping up a pulse, or the rest of your human disguise, but you died in that portal, didn't you?"

Phantom was silent for a moment, then he reached through Paterson's chair and neatly plucked her recorder from her jacket, along with her phone. He tossed the phone into the seat next to him and crushed the recorder. Then he started riffling through Collins' pockets.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Collins. He guided the car to the side of the road and put it into park.

"You made it necessary," said Phantom. He pulled out Collins' phone as well and gave it a once over. "Look," he said. "I'm sort of," he paused, "upset that you guys dug up my body and then freaking lost it."

"Lost it-"

"Fine. Got it stolen from you by one of my enemies. One of my most dangerous enemies. Okay? Happy? Are you starting to understand why I wanted this left alone?"

"Are you trying to say that this isn't about your family not knowing you're dead?" asked Collins.

"Of course it's about that!" exclaimed Phantom. "It's just about half a dozen other things at the same time! You knowing about me could get me killed. Knowing about me could get you killed. The only reason Wes isn't dead is because he's completely ridiculous and no one believes him! You're credible!"

"By that enemy you mentioned?" asked Paterson, having regained some composure.

"Yeah," said Phantom. "He's got an interest in it not getting out."

"Why?" asked Paterson.

"Reasons," said Phantom, stubbornly.

"Does he have the same thing going on as you?"

Phantom crossed his arms and shrugged.

"One second," said Collins, "what do you mean, kill you? You're already dead."

"It's a figure of speech," mumbled Phantom. "Either way, the GIW would be more than happy to cut me open. Do you have any idea what they do to ghosts?"

"You- you're not actually dead, are you?" asked Collins. "Holy-"

"Yes, I am," said Phantom, quickly.

"How did you manage the pulse trick, then?"

"Lots of ghosts can do that. My parents don't know everything."

"You're a terrible liar. How the hell does that work? This- Ghost powers while alive?"

"I am dead," repeated Phantom. "How do you explain the body?"

"Half of it was missing," said Paterson.

Silence.

"I'm begging you to let this go," said Phantom. "People are going to get hurt. I'm going to get hurt."

"You don't think we'd let the GIW have you?" asked Paterson.

"I don't think it's a matter of 'let.' I-" he sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Ugh, I can't believe I made this even worse. What are you going to do?"

"We-" said Collins. Honestly, he had no idea. He looked at Paterson, who shrugged. "It isn't up to us, it's up to the captain."

"You can't tell more people!"

"Then you tell him. Come with us," said Paterson. "It's just one more, and he knows all of our suspicions, anyway." That wasn't completely true.

"If you really wanted to convince us not to, you could tell us more about your terrible enemy who may or may not be like you."

Phantom shook his head. "It's not worth it," he said, floating halfway out of his seat. "I'm going home."

"Wait," said Collins. "Your accident- It really was an accident, wasn't it? Your parents didn't-"

Phantom's face scrunched up. "Of course it was an accident. I was messing around someplace I shouldn't have been because of a dare. Are we done, now? Right up until you decide to ruin what's left of my life, anyway."

"Do you have a cell phone?" asked Paterson. "So we can call you, instead of your parents, if necessary." She offered up her notepad.

Phantom jerked it out of her hands and scrawled something on the paper. "Goodbye," he said, shortly, before flying out of the car.

Paterson swore, loudly.

"Yeah," agreed Collins. "Yeah."

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2020 #day 26

[greaterthannine-blog]

Quarter-Annual Favorites: July, August & September 2017

A Richer Take on "The Favorites"

You probably know the term "favorites" from the plethora YouTubers and beauty bloggers of past and present plastering their half-formulated opinions on a monthly basis. Those dodeca-doses of diluted opinions more often than not have about as much substance as an unfilled cream puff; decadently appealing on the outside, but wholly disappointing in their entirety. 

I believe those sorts of monthly reviews are too time and money consuming to be sustainable. A month just isn't enough time for me to purchase, use and adequately evaluate things I want to use regularly. For me to be thorough, I need more time. Plus, I don't want to scour retailers and internets just for the sake of producing "monthly favorites" content. That's a fuck-ton of cash and I don't want to gain readership based on displaying exorbitant consumerism. That just doesn't feel genuine.

Altogether, those factors considered, I'm going to do Quarter-Annual Favorites! Every quarter or three months of the year, I'll publish a collection my favorite things. A year will be divided into quote-on-quote "seasonal" quarters with the first being January, February & March, followed by April, May & June, then July, August & September, finishing with October, November & December. Since I didn't launch this site until August, I missed the first two quarters, so I'm just jumping right in with the summer one.

Style

Tom Ford Grace Cat-Eye Sunglasses in Brown & Tan: 

If there's an accessory that I love most, that would be sunglasses. I'd been on a hunt for these Tom Ford's when I stumbled upon a pair for sale on my favorite website ever: The Real Real. These sunnies retail for $480 but I copped them for $95. They have been sitting on my face or top of head ever since. 

Printed Scarf: 

While we're also on the topic of the head, I have to mention this lil' cherry & pear print hair scarf that I snatched from my mom's closet (I honestly couldn't find an equivalent for the life of me, so here's a lovely Hermès scarf). This is a perfectly sized small scarf that I either wrap a French-girl-esque manner snugly around my neck with a lil' knot or tie it around my hair to frame a ponytail.

Dr. Martens Valentine Arcadia Shoes:

While I've had these shoes for many months now, I've only been wearing them regularly as of the past couple months. They're leather and have a English school-boy feel, which gives them quality yet quirky character.

Riveted Leather Bracelets: 

I love consignment (and if my love for The Real Real doesn't show that then I don't know what would) and a while back I purchased these genuine black leather studded bracelets (a not-quite-so-similar similar) at a local consignment shop for $12. Adorned with denim rivets, these bracelets are a chic and spunky wrist accessory.

"Tomorrow Will Be Better" Strap iPhone Case: 

I'm a sucker for phone cases, and this one has been horribly useful. The strap on the back has a velcro strip on that allows you to strap the case (and your phone) to almost anything. Because I like to use my phone as an activity tracker, being able to attach my phone to my belts is ingenius.

Miscellaneous

Tod the Succulent: 

In one of my many farmer's market excursions, I purchased a succulent for $1. His name is Tod and he's great. If you want a Tod, please go to your local nursery.

Bonsai Care Set: 

Speaking of plants, I began a grand plant-care experiment by purchasing three bonsai trees. I am determined to keep these high maintenance shrubs thriving and this  has aided in my quest with tools to move soil and trim. 

J. Herbin Roller-ball Fountain Pen & J. Herbin Éclat de Saphir Ink Cartridges: 

The allure of fountain pens is real, but I could never get used to their somewhat scratchy writing. Then I found this J. Herbin roller-ball one that I use with cobalt blue ink. The roller-ball nib makes writing graceful, smooth and scratch free. It's honestly the only pen I've used all summer.

Duck Silver Duct Tape Regular and Mini: 

This is silver duct tape, and not the regular-duct-tape-silver, it's chrome. I've been using it to tape photo prints and paper into my sketchbook and journal to add a dash of reflective dimension to pages.

IMG Fashion Camp: 

I attended this camp at IMG Academy campus in Bradenton, FL and boy was it fan-freaking-tastic. I talked bunches of amazing people in the industry, my favorites of which were Bon Duke, Jimmy Moffat, Ivan Bart, and Brooke Wall as well as IMG WME peeps Rachel Fleitell, Jibran Siddiqui and Peter Knell. I also made some great buddies, Alexandra, Shawn and Ian, at the tennis courts. I'm going to make an entire post or two about this camp and my experience, so keep a look out for it.

Now for the Actual Favorites

I now present to you the first Quarter-Annual Favorites for July, August & September 2017. There are five categories for this first post. If I ever have the time or desire to expand for more than five areas per edition then I will, but for now five non-exclusive categories are the way to go. This quarter's categories are:

Style: which encompasses clothing, shoes, accessories, jewelry, etc.

Photography & Tech: which is exactly what it seems.

Beauty: which is very self-explanatory for today's day and age.

Media: which includes books, magazines, films, TV shows, podcasts, YouTube, other blogs, websites, you get the gist.

Miscellaneous: which is a complete mishmash of things that don't fall under one of the other categories.

For each thing I mention, I've written lil' tidbits that I recommend you read because information is important and all that snazzy-jazz. Plus, I imagine you want to know why I like these things above others, right?

IMPORTANT:

item links are attached to their names, so to go to that thing's page, just click on the name in this black typeface.

Beauty

Fresh Vitamin Nectar Moisture Glow Face Cream: 

Brightening, whitening, radiant, glow are the four adjectives plastered all over my top shelf. So, when I laid eyes on this moisturizer I knew it was love at first glance. It smells of citrus-y creamy candy and evened my complexion in a couple weeks. I swear I will never use another moisturizer. Ever. Go buy it.

Glossier Balm Dot Com in Cherry: 

My lips are about as dry as a prune buried for multiple millennia under 50 feet of Sahara Desert sand. So, in short I need some heavy duty moisture for them, even during summer. This Glossier one hydrates without seeping into the face flesh surrounding the lips (which is a real and legitimate problem people) and gives a lil' pop of cherry red tint. It does smell of cherry medicine or Icee, but I can ignore that.

Burt's Bees Lipstick in 502 Suede Splash: 

For as long as I can remember, I have been an advocate for very light or "no-makeup makeup." Luckily, there lip colors that aren't matte and are formulated to look like your lip color. This one is my lip color but better, and elegantly fades with time. And it's cheap. Perfecto.

Chanel Joues Contraste Powder Blush in 55 In Love: 

I love blush. A nice flush of a peachy beige nude suits my skin best and this Chanel blush has been my go-to this summer. It possesses a barely detectable smidge of in-pan shimmer that brings just a tad of definition to the cheeks. The only issues are it's price and it smells of old fancy lady. But then again... It's Chanel.

Hourglass Ambient Lighting Bronzer in Nude Bronze Light:

My issue with bronzing and contour is it makes people look like they've smeared sparkly dirt on themselves and have been burnt to a crisp. And for those reasons I've disliked bronzer. That is, until I discovered this Hourglass one. It produces a light sun-kissed shade that hardly looks like a contour. It looks ultra natural; a criteria that makeup must meet for my approval.

Photography & Tech

Olympus 35 RC Point & Shoot Camera:

Out of my two metal-body point & shoot cameras this one works best. It has a nifty-ass manual rangefinder focus which allows you to focus (albeit limitedly) on the subject in frame.

Kodak Professional Ektar Color Negative 100:

 Typically I reach for AgfaPhoto Vista Plus 200 but that has recently become difficult to acquire, so I've branched out a bit. This Kodak is slightly more saturated and the temperature is minutely warmer than the cool-prone Agfa.

Nintendo 3DS XL & Pokémon Moon:

I've been a Pokémon fanatic since I was seven and only recently have I had time to get back into the games. The 3DS I bought two years ago and Pokémon Moon have been a wonderful get-to-know-you-again experience this summer.

Aukey USB-C to USB 3.0 Adapters:

For graduating high school I received a new laptop from my Paw-Paw (grandmother). However, it only has USB-C ports so these adapters have been lifesavers to connect anything to my laptop.

Media

Vivi Magazine October 2017 Issue:

I know that October isn't a month in this quarter of the year, but because this is fashion, this issue was available in August and plus it featured one of my three role models Kiko Mizuhara (who funny enough is a professional model). This is a very vibrant and stylish magazine that I pretty much buy every month. I purchased my copy from Magazine Café and requested in the comment box the October 2017 issue, but you can also order it here.

her. magazine v. 04 spring/summer 2017:

Another favorite magazine!  This mag was created by The New Order founder James Oliver, a native New Zealander. It features Asian women in creative and artistic fields. I love reading about how these ladies started out, made it to where they are now and what they currently do in their craft. Terribly inspirational for a lil' hapa like myself.

Ready Player One by Earnest Cline:

I brought this book with me to IMG Fashion Camp in August. Some good ole science fiction was the perfect escape from the social-media obsessed teenage girl demographic surrounding mefor the week I was down in Florida, and I believe this book lives up to the hype. While it had a fairly predictable plot, it was a very interesting and detailed read. And the protagonist, Wade Watts is the ultimate lovable nerd-geek.

Pokémon: Lucario and the Mystery of Mew:

If you didn't know, Pokémon is the best thing ever. And accompanying my game-playing revival has been a resurrection of watching Pokémon the series and especially the movies. Getting to sit back and rewatch one of my favorite films (no joke this is one of my Top Ten Favorite Films) has been exceptional, especially since it features Lucario, one of my favorite Pokemon.

The Grand Tour Season 1 (Not Pictured):

Top Gear was one of my all-time favorite TV shows. That is, until the departure of the best and most nincompoop-ish hosts in the world. And now it has become terrible. Fortunately, the three British Stooges have made a deal with Amazon to produce The Grand Tour. It's not quite as good as Top Gear used to be, particularly regarding the weird-ass Celebrity Brain Crash segments. But regardless of it's oddities, it is still hilarious. Go watch it. Now.

Hope that this Quarter-Annual Favorites: July, August & September lives up to some already sky-high standards.

Tell me your quarterly favorites in the comments! I really would love some recommendations and feedback!

And as always,

Thanks for popping by.

Toodles.

Abe

#Quarter-Annual Favorites #July #August #September #2017 #Summer 2017 #Style #Accessories #Photography #Tech #Film Photography #Kodak #Kodak Professional Ektar 100 #Nintendo #Nintendo 3DS #Pokemon #Pokemon Moon #The Real Real #Tom Ford #Cat-Eye Sunglasses #Printed Scarf #Riveted Leather Bracelets #Dr. Martens #Doc Martens #Slingback Loafers #Phone Case #Aukey Adapters #Laptop Accessories #Fresh Vitamin Nectar Moisture Glow Face Cream #Fresh Skincare

[maggimjoi-blog]

i feel like i’ve never catalogued all the actual alters i used to have and be when i was a system. before i became Just Maggi. so im gonna try to do that now. but its been such a long time i barely remember.

gree and yell- placeholder names for two fae i dont remember. i think yell was reddish yellow purple or something and gree was greenish purple yellow, but they both were very angry and vicious things that were just. told me things about shit that would eventually happen to me years later.

i sent them away. for about half a year it lasted before other stuff surfaced.

Maki Neko and Notu Hebi- a sharp wiccan cat person and a heavily devout christian/egypt snake individual. they were both from ancient egypt (?) and i dont remember many details about them but they were a pair and balanced each other out. they sort of existed as my only context of understanding religion until i figured out where i stood with it myself, considering i didn’t feel okay with christianity being sort of forced on me from a young age just because it was my moms religion and she converted my dad to it when they got married. but yeah uh kinda placeholder names since i couldnt remember any ancient egyptian for a long time but i did have japanese weeb shit and that was ok for a while. water kitten. i dont remember what notu hebi meant but maki neko was water kitten.

satori- a half fairy with brown hair with purple streaks that always wore 60s hippie stuff and was into new age shit. really into chalkzone shit. eventually just transcended time and space and left to become someone else. came back as miki.

raven corvana- i think they were satori’s mom? or miki’s mom? i dont remember. it was really complicated. they had black hair with white streaks and were literally from hell or something but they were just. a nice mom person. they just wanted to make everything firey hell warm and listened to like. the smooth jazz equivalent of goth music and could literally turn into a raven or a crow or some inbetween. literally some sort of line of grim reaper angel things i dont remember.

miki ishikawa- they/she were a genetic experiment of a vulcan/human/angel? thing. some guy named uh. shit i dont remember his name but he had white hair. tsukimoto! okay it was tsukimoto. he. like. fuckin. i dunno they all came from this fucked up g gundam/evangelion universe i never bothered to learn about but a lot of people (tsukimoto +literal crowley?) decided to try and recreate like. the most ultimate being with some vulcan dna and angel blood and shit and they came out with a tired alcoholic child whos blood was like 90% absinthe after everything was said and done. They told me their real body was in a coma the whole time they were with me/ were me. I felt their original body die when they left which was. really fucked up.

crowley- literally the ...guy? that helped make miki? he was there for like a month or something. i think he knew they were gonna die. so he/they tried to make her/their last months comfortable. Kinda felt like a WD Gaster type. not miki’s actual biodad. miki loved their biodad so much. their biodad was urube ishikawa it was weird i dont know ok.

then uh. after that. well more around that time i guess. i (the host? i guess? i never really had an identity for Myself at this point, before then i was kinda like an observer overseeing everything and never had a Self Identity until this point) but yeah i watched. Kingdom Hospital.

i watched kingdom hospital and. well. my memories came back in pieces before they came all at once so. i ended up in a really abusive relationship with the person that abused me from my previous life bc i couldnt remember what they did to me and shit was. Bad. Feels Bad Scoob.

but yeah

Mary Jensen- me but like. small and long hair. i had a lobotomy and shit because i was havin that Sleepin Sickness. i literally had trouble sleeping ever and couldnt really dream i mean. to his credit gottreich thought it would help but. yeah literally stabbing the hippocampus probably made it worse. did not help with the literal satan anteater that was using me as some sort of horrific puppet for his bullshit.

Paul Morlock- me but taller and short wavy bob hair. i was super cute and loved suspenders and was a very gay and spent all of my time in the 1930s gay community as the Smallest Boy everyone loved to be my parent even though no one had money and i worked like a motherfucker. a lot of the terminology we used back then were. some pretty shitty slurs nowadays but back then you used them to weed out who was part of the gay community and who wasnt. i must have sounded like a Grade A Prime Asshole when i fronted as paul-me. i wore lots of gray and slept in a large fish tank because sault water protected me from literal anteater satan. i had to protect ghost-mary-me from a lot of shit all the time and it was. Bad.

we coexisted with miki for a while as a sort of girl/neuter/boy system where mary was my representation of being a girl and paul was being a boy and miki was being neither even tho they used she pronouns out of convenience

but like. gender is racist bullshit? and i guess that wasnt gonna last very long because after that i remembered LEaving the hospital afterlife to try and escape before i came Here.

so now im Just Maggi Mjoi Anders

but like. see Mary had a backstory before kingdom hospital so its really like

my life as Maggi Mjoi was. we all lived in this facility and shit and it was me but like. i was both mary and paul because it was a spiral timeline and i just sorta. stopped being two different timelines and became one timeline. cause like. if you die and youre a ghost but you reincarnate? youre still a ghost? the previous You’s electric wavelength is just there and you can interact with it the next go around so when you die the next time its just Newer Different you??? i dunno

but yeah i sorta combined myself into Maggi real nice and it just fit nice being a weird agender masc legwarmer wearing boots wearing suspender wearing hat wearing loser that looked like a walking Autumn advertisement.

but like? i started Separating again so like. sometimes im Me but sometimes im just Maggi/Magdi/Mar/Anders or sometimes im just Andy/Pal/Anders/Paully. It’s suck trying to maintain any sort of progress with the amount of ptsd flashbacks i get at random with no predictability so it just. gets a lot to handle as one person.

i just felt like writing this for myself so please dont comment unless you have something nice to say or you feel like you remember me or a previous me or something.

#personal ::

[vigiland]

Thandi Klaasen: Defying tragedy to do it her way

 ​

Percy Mabandu 20 Jan 2017 00:00

Back in the day: Thandi Klaasen in 1955 ‘doing a little modelling for Drum’. Photo: Drum photographer © Baileys Archives

As hi-fi sets across the country’s townships began issuing their ritual jazz doses on Sunday, news came fluttering in that the song stylist Thandi Klaasen of Sophiatown fame was gone. The 86-year-old had succumbed to pancreatic cancer and a series of strokes. She had been bedridden and without her voice at an Ekurhuleni hospital for months.

As the government made its official announcement, her daughter, Lorraine Klaasen, had also taken to Facebook to confirm the dreaded news: “Today is the day my Mom left us. She passed away this morning peacefully.”

As news cameras and well-wishers descended on their Alberton home, Lorraine would sum up her mother’s life with a simple but loaded phrase: “She lived a life of tragedies. To be able to die peacefully, she did everything her way.”

Tragedy entered the story of Klaasen’s life very early. Being born in 1931, into a South Africa making its transition from colonialism to apartheid, meant that she was going to deal with an existence of struggle.

Born in Sophiatown, to a father who scratched out a living as a shoemaker and a mother who was a domestic worker, launched the singer into the world as a girl of the lower working class who was black in a racist country.

She discovered her capacity and love of singing in her family church as a young girl. It’s a talent that was made all the more promising by the fact of her beauty and the possibilities provided by the unfolding cultural renaissance taking shape in Sophiatown at the time. The scene was alive.

The Drum writers were articulating a literary equivalent to the music. Stars such as Louisa Emmanuel, Thoko Thomo and her group the Lo Six, as well as “blues queen” Emily Kwenane, were paving the way for young black singers like Klaasen.

Sis Peggy’s shebeen and Back of the Moon, with their tragicomic mix of binge drinkers and police raids, provided perennial drinking holes. This is the era of the Harlem Swingers, the Manhattan Brothers and similar male-led bands.

Klaasen was unimpressed with the almost exclusive dominance enjoyed by these “boy bands”. In a kind of feminist intervention, she formed all-female vocal quartet the Quad Sisters. They were a hit. In 1952 their song Carolina Wam was all the rage. It confirmed her as a legitimate star. In fact, Klaasen’s group paved the way for the young Miriam Makeba and her girl group, the Skylarks.

Klaasen’s rising star saw her work with Alfred Herbert’s African Jazz and Variety on a number of shows. In 1961 she would form part of the London cast of King Kong, the iconic musical theatre production that was a lifeline to many pioneers of South African music.

Devised by Todd Matshikiza and Harry Bloom, the production launched many of the era’s stars as international performers, including Makeba and Dolly Rathebe.

In 1977, tragedy struck. The pretty star was attacked with acid. The popular explanation was that “a rival hired thugs to assault the singer”. The assault put her in hospital for about a year and gave her the lifelong scars on her face.

It was a violent incident that could have ended her public life as an entertainer. It didn’t. Klaasen’s resilient spirit carried her through. She recovered and kept on singing.

This kind of violence would have been part of her life from the start. To be a singer in Sophiatown, for instance, meant that, more often than not, the young Klaasen would perform for gangs and thugs as her primary patrons at shebeens, clubs and halls.

It’s a point that was often made by Klaasen’s late friend, Makeba. She spoke of how the gang leaders often wanted to claim the prettiest girl in the house for themselves. As performing stars, they had to be good-looking and were hence on the gangsters’ radar. So, as young beauties, they had to live with the violence of unwanted male attention, advances that they turned down at the risk of physical harm.

The thug-infested culture is central to understanding Klaasen’s mystique. The fast talking, the performative machismo and the no-nonsense tough-girl bravado are all Sophiatown pantsula grammar. They informed even her styling and treatment of songs. The staccato rolled off her tongue like the rhythm of a tsotsi’s knife stab. She even used the pinkie-finger gesture for emphasis.

The importance of Sophiatown to Klaasen’s artistic and personal identity is legendary. The then government’s decision to pass the Natives Resettlement Act of 1954, which rezoned Sophiatown as a whites-only area, gave rise to a pain she testified to every time she went on stage. She shared the nostalgia with former president Nelson Mandela, who declared her his favourite singer. Klaasen was often called on to perform at his parties.

Her song Sophiatown is perhaps the greatest musical ode to that era and place. The earlier versions of the song find Klaasen in fine form. The velvet-smooth contralto, the easy swing and the finger-snapping syncopation are carried by the real melancholy of the song. The story of broken lives and homes snuffed out by a brutal state is sung with acute sensitivity.

But Klaasen also had a deep capacity for humour, which she deployed with impish licence in her music. In a recent interview, lifelong friend Abigail Kubeka waxed lyrical about Klaasen’s devil-may-care approach to performance. “Thandie would at times not even bother to learn the words to a song. She would just scat and invent her own lyrics.”

But part of the tragedy of Klaasen’s life is that she went on singing even past her capacity to do so. There’s a video clip of her singing at an African Musicians Against HIV/Aids event in Botshabelo, Bloemfontein. She did an a cappella take on My Way, the pop song made popular and jazzed up by Frank Sinatra.

Already in her 80s, Klaasen struggles to carry the song as she would have in her glorious youth. The notes begin with promising intensity and a defiant will to win; however, as her voice lilts with the melody, age and a worn body fail her.

It’s a scene that has played out many times before in the lives of greats in the winter of their years, like Miles Davis’s flopping trumpet lines in his late 80s or latter-day Billie Holiday as she succumbed to drug use and years of hard living.

Klaasen stands with a mic in hand in a visibly hot and humid tent in dusty Botshabelo. Her grey wig blankets a face that is resisting wrinkles thanks to an identity-marking scar. “I did it … and I’ll keep doing it my way,” she sings.

The famous graceful contralto is no more. Her scatting lacks the vitality of the pantsula verve that made her a name. She gasps, throws in some tsotsitaal to survive the song she sang so many times before with ease. The crowd claps in sympathetic cheer, knowing little of her inner struggle.

A few months afterwards, Klaasen would be hospitalised, suffer a stroke and then die.

The music, the memories and the accolades, like the Order of the Baobab in gold that she received in 2006, are all that remains.

#Sophiatown