It’s All Black and White . . . .
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inWhen last we spoke I promised to dive into the “Magic Box” where I keep everything.
I think we should start with the underpinning of all make-up -the primer. Just like painting a picture you need to prepare the canvas. and that is why we use a primer. To get the best out of the primer do your moisturizer and serum (if you use it -depending on the amount of sleep I get I may or may not) apply them early, go have your morning drink (coffee or water).
I have recently tried ELF primer (the pink one) Its silky and lovely and gives a great finish. It even works with BB creme (L’oreal) for a sheer and poreless finish. One thing to remember as we get older – less quite often is more. Now you are “primed” if you are planning for a camera shoot make your face a blank canvas and we can start to dig deeper.
Next time Concealing – It’s all black and white
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inI hear it now – “Oh lord another beauty blog”. Well people have been fascinated and obsessed with it for centuries so let’s have a little fun with it and maybe just learn something.
Like wine, some of us improve with age. Some with a little medical help and some by learning a few clever tricks. What I have never understood is why women, of a certain age follow advice for women who are younger, those with no wrinkle and lines. That’s not to say we can’t all share some of the same magic. You don’t have to use filters on everything, but you have to go outside sometime.
So then what am I going to do here ? Well as a cosplayer/performer I will share products and hints – what works for me and what doesn’t . . . and why
I am told I look younger than my chronological age, I think that’s partially because of DNA, and also because I have always taken very good care of myself.I was a redhead and because of that I stayed shy of the sun. The sun is not your friend, so you need to moisturize. I am not telling you anything new. My mother never washed her face – not with soap and water. She used OLIVE OIL. As a baby who was recovering from rheumatic fever she also bathed me in it. Her skin was amazing. So we are going to look at old solutions to current problems, and some things that can help you in a pinch. Regarding olive oil – it’s pretty pricey these days as well. So exactly what do I use ? We will get into that in the next episode.
We’ll call our next episode “what’s in the box” and I’ll tell you what I have and what I find works .
Follow me on PATREON for more content . . .
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Autons ? or Angels I wasn’t blinking either way and they weren’t moving but behind me, the gnome had started moving and that was trouble. I had the anti-plastic, and I could spray with only a quick glance away, but did I want to risk the quick glance. What I could do was a spray toward the oncomers, in hopes that it would slow them down.
Well that gave me time to take a quick breath. I pushed the mower toward the gnome with all my force and heard a crunch – auton then . . .but the other, the anti-plastic only slowed them, and like the angels they moved fast. Exactly what were they ? I had asked himself but only got a note saying dinner reservations were made and he’d see in the 3021. There are times he’s just no help at all. I digress, I was running from angels that had decided to go plastic. I kept my eyes fastened on them, and headed back to the house , keeping my back to the door when I felt a hand on my back.
Bam, I was in 1939 again and on skidrow in LA. I didn’t even vaguely look like I belonged, but I survived the jump without too much damage, and with my VM intact. I hoofed it to my office and checked in with Marty – and thankfully he was there and a bit surprised to see me. I explained the angel/plastic problem and dug through my files for more information. There I found a letter –
Well, not a lot of help there, more about the dinner reservation. Oh I knew why he was harping on that but that’s a much longer story. I needed to know when the angels adopted the autons – Autons were something that could be handled so with a full supply of anti-plastic and some mylar mirrors I told Marty to order a pizza and I would be back.
Back in 1963 and not exactly where I left off, but close enough. A short trip back up the road, the Angelkins ? Autonels ? the hybrids were moving toward the stairs , I must not have been gone very long. I wanted to talk to them, find out more but I had a bad feeling about the situation, but maybe there was something I could use. The right of parlay.
” Hey there,” I called out loudly, best to present a strong face. ” Under article 15 of the Shadow Proclamation I demand the name and planet of origin of this entity.”
The creatures looked at one another, and then at me. Speech seemed to elude them and then one of the “female” mannequins grunted out a sound.
“We are from the a planet you call Osiris. It is what you call an exo-planet. We are losing oxygen and so we came here, at least for a time but you aren’t friendly. “
Well they had a point. I tried to do everything in my power because I thought they had other intentions. Still something wasn’t right . There were lots of other places they could have gone.
“So then, what’s your real form ? I mean, mannequins are clever but certainly not really friendly – “
“We are . . . ” there was a long pause . . . and then the mannequin became a cloud of blue sparkling smoke.
“Ah, I can see where that might be a bit of a problem. I do have a friend that might help you.”
“We do not need help”
“Are you leaving ? ” I really had no choice other than to be blunt., and I really felt strange talking to smoke.
It wavered . Everything around us became still. I waited, knowing full well that the anti-plastic was useless. These were creatures that would inhabit inanimate objects and they had no intention of leaving.
“You must leave, this planet it’s not good for those who live here. You won’t be able to make a home here.”
I could almost feel them laughing . I sounded desperate, and I was. Desperation was not a new feeling but a rare one. My mind was racing, I needed to know what they wanted. I didn’t buy the refugee story, they were after something else.
“I don’t believe you. There must be something else.”
They looked at me and began moving. “We gained something from the Angels. We absorb energy. We just need a minimum amount to power these . . . Nestine I think that’s the word you had in your head. . . people fear the ones we found here. They will leave us alone or we will move closer.”
Now I had to laugh , humans fear many things but not mannequins, especially with such low energy and little movement. I’ve seen Autons that would make a time lord run but these – creepy as they were didn’t create much of a shiver.
“No, I don’t think so. There’s a lovely place about 4 light years from here. Move or it’s the anti-plastic for you.” I aimed the weapons and slid on my mirrored sunglasses – and waited.
There was a subtle shift and then the mannequins collapsed and a blue grey smoke rose up and into the atmosphere. Did i trust them ? Oh no, but a few pops in and out with the VM proved they had left.
Now to set the VM and get home to London for Christmas. Happy Holidays everyone .
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You know, I’ve seen some strange things, but this left me slack jawed. Torn between walking in with guns blazing or running because if The Angels and The Autons had somehow created a hybrid, it wasn’t something I was ready to deal with. I don’t know that sweetie would have been ready for that either. So I stood still, not blinking, gazing into glassy eyes set into smooth emotionless faces.
The silence was deafening, and out of nowhere came the “ping” of a toaster. Just what were these things – Alien hybrids that ate . . .toast ? I laughed and slowly backed away, down the flight of stairs, never stopping, continually looking at the creatures. It was time to regroup, call Marty and try to figure out what was going on. I almost made it too.
A voice behind me, “You that Williams, lady? ” It was the voice that had answered the phone.
“You’re early, ” he droned.
“I called, and there was no answer. I was concerned .”
He turned and headed down the stairs , “The place I have is down here. . .come on.”
I bit my tongue, I wanted to ask him about the plastic people who, apparently, ate toast. Maybe I should just wait and see, however that’s not a strong point for me.
“What’s going on upstairs?” I really tried to sound innocent.
He stopped, key in the lock to the lower door, “what do you mean?”
“I smelled something burning, sort of like toast.”
He glared at me, “There’s no one up there, maybe you’re getting a migraine. . .”
I touched my forehead and feigned a headache, “Guess you’re right, so let’s take a look at this place.“
He only grunted in response and opened the door. It was pretty much what I expected – dull, small, in desperate need of paint and perfectly placed for me to investigate.
“How much ? “ I sighed.
He looked me up and down in a way I didn’t like, but could only be to my benefit. “ I guess I can take $450 a month, and another $900 for security and last month. Take it or leave it.“
I agreed after telling him how big a hit that was for my teachers budget and after deciding he wasn’t going to change his mind about the price. I told him I needed to move in immediately.
“Tomorrow is okay.” he grunted. I handed him the cold hard cash and held out my hand.
“Key’s?” I asked. Again a grunt, and he dropped a set of keys in my hand.
“Silver is the deadbolt, gold is the door handle. $25.00 if you need to replace them.”
A real champ, I thought, as I headed to my car to unload my teacher stuff, by myself. I really didn’t want his help. I wanted him gone so I could take another look at the creatures upstairs.
The problem with being from the future and from the past is the mail. That’s why I was surprised when the psychic paper I had picked up pulsed with only one word – DON’T .
To be continued
21 Wednesday Apr 2021
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It’s true, plastics are where it’s at. Earth will be over run, of course, but there are other places and some the entire populations are, well , plastic. The Nestene Consciousness, for example , it doesn’t call itself plastic but it is. It’s living plastic, and it doesn’t stay at it’s home. It likes Earth, easy to blend in because humans do love disposable things.
I settled into the motel room and went over my notes and the photos. The tall antenna, the lack of people, but still such a rural area for the Nestene. I had to be missing something , I looked at the photos again and there it was, a red cap poking out of the grass, a garden gnome. Oh I knew the rule – not every statue, but any statue could be one of most humane killers in the universe the Weeping Angels. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions, so I jumped over to One Pagoda Place in lovely San Francisco, swapped lies over dinner with some pals . There were some time agents, and a few people familiar with odd things so people who didn’t need convincing . After that I zapped back to Tahoe and a comfy bed .
Alarm went off at 7:00 and after a jump in the shower I was dressed for work. Well scrubbed, hair in a ponytail, boots, sweater, jean jacket the very image of a geography teacher. Ditching the car at the bottom of the road I walked back toward the duplex. Waist deep in grass I saw the red cap, and circled wide. No sense being careless, until I could check. The hum of insects was missing, and no birds – but there was a smell of something rotten, locating the source was harder than I thought, and then I heard something, well felt something go “swish”, something soft like a rotten apple and an odor of overripe fruit . Looking down I drew my boot back from something that looked like a dolls head, with painted eyes that were gazing into my own. I didn’t like where this was going.
I turned and headed back to the car, it was nearly time for my appointment anyway, and this was not a place I wanted to be in without adequate protection. The grass rustled as I moved through it and then again when I wasn’t . I could spot the red cap…it was closer now . I kept my eyes fastened on it as I backed toward the car. Rule of thumb, I told myself, the smaller the angel , lower the power, most red cap could do was move me a few miles, so I bolted to the car. Grabbing my phone I called the number of the owner. There was no answer , just a constant ring.
I checked the time – 12:02 and no answer. I drove up the drive prepared for anything. At least I thought I was.
The stairway going to the living areas was dotted with small plastic globes and the stench of rotten fruit was overpowering. Climbing the slippery stairs I reached the landing, the door was unlocked and sitting at the table 4 mannequins appearing to have lunch.
to be continued
Lake Tahoe, not exactly the place you think of with Time Travel, Aliens and Murder are in store. Cool deep blue lake, quiet communities – actually the perfect place not to be noticed. My VM said it was 1963, the trenchcoat would do , but I would need a place to change into something more period.
Marty had said the last ad he’d seen was a house in South Tahoe, but it was being sold in the 21st century. Getting clothes would be easy enough, jeans and a good white shirt. There was never much to do with the hair. In the 60’s no one would care and by the time I hit the 21st Century, well it would be common place.
Marty had sent me a letter to General Delivery with the address of the house I needed to visit . It was on Primrose Road, he sent a picture so I could find it. Looked like a nice little place, so I rented a car and drove out there.
The place was the color of day old lettuce. Grass was wildly growing, and if it weren’t for the fact that there were no sounds of children, insects or birds you would assume it was simply a semi-abandoned building . Then you noticed the antenna, about 40 feet tall, and the only one in the area . I had seen nothing else like it . It was still early in this area’s timeline for this kind of tech.
I slowed down and noticed that deep in the bushes was a battered “For Rent” sign and a phone number. Closer examination showed the place was a duplex, even better to get in and snoop around. A girls gotta have some fun. So I drove down the road a little and with a few hacks in place , I was calling the number on the sign.
The phone rang several times before a sleepy voice muttered “Hello ?”
Always putting on a bright smile, I replied, “Hello ! I see you have a duplex for rent. Names Melody Williams, and I’m a school teacher. Can I arrange to see it ?”
There was silence, maybe I had been too enthusiastic, and I wondered if he would check my cover.
“Yeah” , the voice was terse now. Bothered. “Come tomorrow at noon. Give me a bit of time to clean up a bit. ” CLICK.
I looked at the phone in my hand and shrugged, heading back to a small motel I had reserved a room in. Tomorrow would be interesting – little did I know what was really lurking in that country home and I doubt if even my husband would have seen what was coming.
To be continued . . .
WRAPPING THINGS UP
Things are never all that simple. Yes, of course the off-worlder’s were successfully sidelined but we still had to get back to New York . Naturally, the ship we were in would cease to exist. I was sure it couldn’t be recalled to the last destination – Hawaii 1941, well, after I ripped out the wiring for return, more than pretty sure. I figured I could ditch it in the ocean, and then get Callum and I back to the meeting point before anyone else arrived (or never arrived) .
Callum looked at me as I explained my plan. He looked around the ship too, a bit of a hungry look.
“No, you can’t”. I knew what was running through his head. Time Travel, knowing the future and going to the past. “It never ends well, Callum. Let me get you back to your own time.”
“But one trip, 10 year’s back get some stock. . . “
“No. Time is funny about what you can and can’t do.” I knew how he would work the angle things, I also knew that I had looked at all the possible timelines for him. So he had to go home. “I can’t tell you the future, even though I know . . . spoilers you see.”
I was prepared for a battle but again he surprised me, nodding his head. Now the Mad man always did a thing with lottery tickets – but that always seemed dicey to me. Him and his “things”. I thought I would do something to prevent Callum from regret – later or earlier as it may be.
1990 was coming up , I hit the cloaking device and grabbed Callum.
“I’m sure this is going to be memorable for you, maybe a little too memorable, so I am very sorry”
“Sorry ? For what I’ve got a story I can dine on for years. “
“Well, no. . . ” and I kissed him goodbye. I had to, so much knowledge of the past and future – it just wasn’t safe.
He looked at me and smiled. I have no idea, well maybe some, what he was hallucinating. It kept him occupied. The ship was headed for the ocean and was starting to burn. Grabbing Callum by the hand I programmed my VM and BANG we were at the warehouse.
Travel by Vortex Manipulator is not pleasant for two or more. Callum was retching in the nearest garbage bin, so it was time for me to head back to the office.
1939 – 5 minutes before I left.
Marty was sitting behind my desk, wearing one of my nicer dresses.
“I can do that myself now, ” laughing I tossed the Fedora at him and he instantly shifted back to his original form. ” I have a little errand for you.”
Marty cocked his head, “Am I going as you ?”
This made me laugh, “No, do you remember the man from 1990 ? ”
“Vaguely. . . why”
I wrote rapidly, “Here’s some cash , go and invest in oh, AT&T. . . that will be around for a while – put in in his name- these are all the details. Nice guy, didn’t try to take advantage of time. Besides, doing that is my business. “
Marty smiled , “Ice in your heart melting, Miss Malone ? “
“Oh Marty, you know me better than that. I just don’t want him looking for me.”
I swung my legs up on the desk, and tilted my chair back. Time to find a new case.
THE END. . . .
Don’t go away, digging through my files for more. . . Happy 2021 Readers . . .
15 Thursday Oct 2020
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inCHAPTER ONE – DINNER WITH A DEAD MAN
It was a rainy night, a not that rare in Los Angeles, and I was debating going to nap on the office sofa, but something was bothering me, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Angel City now had two employees and I was the only one still here, so why was I hearing someone in the outer office ?
I checked my seams and slid back into my heels, smoothing down the front of my sheath dress, and checking the side slit went just high enough, and finally tucking my .38 into the back of my belt, I opened the door to the outer office. There stood a man, looking a bit confused, but that was the response I get quite often. In his hand he held my card, which was interesting since we had never met.
“Miss Malone ?” he was soft spoken, blond and tall. He would have been my type, if I had one.
I raised an eyebrow, and smiled a little. “Depends on who’s asking.”
“Oh, the name is Callum Paterson, and I don’t know where I am or more accurately, when I am .” He looked like a little boy lost, and I didn’t quite have the heart to tell him he would be dead in the morning . I needed to eat and I needed to know what was going on before he died again. So the solution was simple, dinner at my favorite watering hole.
“Well then, Mr. Paterson, ” I gave him my bluest eyes and a slight flutter of the lashes, “why don’t you take me to dinner and I’ll explain what’s happening to your life”.
Grabbing my hat and coat, I slid my arm through his. I needed to know if the Angels were involved, and if so why was the pattern changing. I suspected there was a human interaction involved.
In no time at all we were seated at Musso and Franks, my favorite corner booth, and drinks were on the table. I asked for a newspaper, the LA Times and handed it to Callum. I watched his face as he looked at the date September 23 , 1939. The color drained out of his face until my dinner partner looked like a very confused ghost.
“I don’t understand, ” he said, “How can I be dead when I am having dinner with you? ”
I leaned in close, close enough to kiss him but I wasn’t going to. I had his attention now and he wouldn’t stray.
“Because, sweetie, in the next 4 hours your body will be found near Chinatown, but there won’t be any identifying marks. I’m so sorry, I needed to know so I’ve done a little time line ‘bouncing’ . Steak ? ”
He looked both frightened and shocked, but stuttered out a “yes” and “medium rare”. I ordered him a fine scotch, I figured if you knew you were dying you might not be at the top of your game – unless you were my “uncle” . I admit to being impressed, he ate silently, re-reading the small back page story on his own death.
It was an unusual time, as gales were sweeping the coast. Angel’s Gate weathered it all. Downtown LA was rain soaked leaving the streets glittering with the reflections of the neon lights from the clubs . I reached out and touched his hand, startling him, “It’s time we get going. “
” Are you going to kill me ? ” he asked, his voice raspy.
“No. I’m going to find out how you got here, with my card in your pocket, and see if I can stop it happening from the other end. Dying twice has its advantages, cheer up. ”
I pushed him into a cab and gave the driver directions and a generous tip, then I hailed a cab for myself. I followed closely and waited for the fun to begin.
07 Monday Sep 2020
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inThat’s the first thing the client said. He looked a bit like a worker, a bit like pictures I’d seen of my grand dad. One thing was for sure, he was scared. He said his name was Dolan. I spun my chair around and stood up and walked around the desk. I slid onto the edge of the desk, giving him a long appraising gaze.
“What’s it sound like ? ” I purred. “Is it a voice ? Or just a noise – like music ?”
“It’s like railway noise, the sound the tracks make, high pitched, with little words in there.”
“What kind of words? ” I leaned closer, like I could hear inside his head. I couldn’t but he didn’t know that. But if someone was sending messages , I needed to know what they said and who was receiving.
My new assistant, Marty, had a car. Nice Lincoln Sedan with “suicide doors” , in a deep green, so we piled into it and headed to Union Station. I needed to hear the sound the rails sang. More importantly I needed to hear the words.
Dolan started to get antsy the closer we got to Union Station, Marty’s eyes met mine in the rear view mirror.
“Miss Malone, he’s starting to shake and his head is making a noise, and it’s really hot on one side.”
“Let me pull over, get him out of the car”, there was no sense in seeing him explode and losing all the knowledge that might be being sent. Maybe I’m a little heartless , but maybe the planet is worth it, at least that’s what I was told . Marty helped Dolan out and took him inside a diner so he had a little protection.
Once I was alone, I found a place to park and headed down to the tunnels and the platforms. As I drew closer I began to hear the hum, scratchy and high pitched and buried in the whine words – let us out .
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