Home » A second life in pictures » Vagabond: Or,The Coming of the King

Vagabond: Or,The Coming of the King

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Enticing the Gypsy Davey to set up a residence in Faerie again won’t be easy.

Enticing the Gypsy Davey to set up a residence in Faerie again wouldn’t be easy. You’d need a special place, for an erstwhile Rom Baro. You’d need a place like Vagabond.

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I hesitated at the door.

I hesitated at the door. The boys had spent the last couple of days putting together what they promised would be a vardo fit for a baro, but you can never be too sure. Still, as I contemplated the exterior art, and the general placement of the caravan (as far away from Her Perniciousnes as possible), it seemed like something The Davey might like. It’s not like I’ve ever met him or anything. I think he’s my step great-uncle or something, but I wouldn’t want to presume.

I’m An. That’s short for Annwn, which is a Welsh word that means the land of the dead. It’s an unlucky name, but my granny thought my green eyes could withstand the force of the land of the dead, so that’s what she named me. My mum isn’t fond of the name; she always wanted me to go by Ann when I went to school that time, but I thought it was silly to have two ‘n’s when it’d be pronounced the same with only one; plus, easier to write. Job done.

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Speaking of jobs, my job that day was to clean and decorate the baro’s vardo.

Speaking of jobs, my job that way was to clean and decorate the baro’s vardo. Quite a lot of his chete got sent on ahead; I never saw so much stuff belonging to a travelling Rom. Must take a dozen boys to heft his cases, and I’ll bet his travel vardo is just filled to the brim with boxes. That’s what comes of not having a wife, my mum would say.

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But of course, the Gypsy Davey is more than just an errant Gypsy Baro.

But of course, the Gypsy Davey is more than just an errant Gypsy Baro. That’s what I was thinking as I carefully directed the boys to put the stencilled hutch in just so and made sure the lamps gave the dark corners a good wash. The boys had placed the vardo so that the back windows caught water off the lake, so there would be lots of daylight. But, you know, we are not just a daylight people. I grabbed a box of tiles I’d been collecting for some purpose or other and grouted them together after carefully spacing them in a pattern haphazard enough to look as if it was thrown together, just to give the back wall a bit more colour.

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I hung beads and lace and a couple of printed hangings in the back corner.

I hung beads and lace and a couple of printed hangings in the back corner. That’s also where I placed the candlatch, because I thought it would be a good spot for meditating on an evening, looking over the water like that. You could almost get jealous of such a place, if you didn’t know the kind of bullshit anybody chosen “baro” would have to go through with us lot. Especially living as we do in Faerie, slipping in and out of the mists and that. Not a lot of Fae Rom around these days; most Romany are human, but we’re brothers and sisters to the human Rom even as we are to one another, and sometimes we intermarry, but if your family is in Faerie, hm. Not so much. You want to preserve the Fae magic, you know? Not that it gets diluted when a girl beds a mortal Rom, but there’s a lessening. Yeah, OK; it gets diluted, but that sounds dirty and racist and I’m no racist even though I’d never marry a Gaje boy.

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My eyes mean I don’t have many prospects among the Rom.

My eyes mean I don’t have many prospects among the Rom. My granny thought of themas a good omen. “Fae eyes,” she called them. “You have the Seelie eyes, girl.” Over and over again when I was a kid. Other people have not been so kind, and the eyes, coupled with the unlucky name, well. I’ve heard myself referred to as “that demon girl” on more than one occasion, and once I even got in a fistfight about it.

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I took a break once the sun shifted and I’d got the bulk of the living space done.

I took a break once the sun shifted and I’d got the bulk of the living space done. Grabbed a beer out of the cooler and drank it furtively, since I don’t want to sully what reputation I’ve got drinking during daylight. Even in February the boys chose to go off for a rabbit hunt once they’d got all the big stuff in place; they left the fiddly bits for me.

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And then, there was only one little bit to go.

And then, there was only one little bit to go. I hummed as I carefully arranged silk flowers, along with some real ones, mostly to test if what they say about Davey’s virility is true. (If it is, when I come back in a month, those real flowers will still be blooming bright along with the silk ones, filling the whole vardo with the scent of springtime and sex and other things a good Romany girl pretends she doesn’t know about.

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There was a certain mischievous (bordering on naughty) rush to relaxing on The Davey’s own bed.

That said, there was a certain mischievous (bordering on naughty) rush to relaxing on The Davey’s own bed. I wriggled my hips into the duvet and made sure my boots were clean before I lay down there, “just to test the mattress, see if it’s fit,” I whispered to myself. It’s OK if you tell a lie, if you know it’s a lie. It’s the lies people tell when they don’t know they’re lies; those are the bad ones. Anyway, it wouldn’t matter in a few days: Davey would come back, or he wouldn’t come back; I’d meet him, or I wouldn’t; he’d see something more than a demoness in my eyes—or he wouldn’t. I swung my legs off the bed and monkey-swung down to the living area (there’s a ladder, but who needs it when it’s so easy to fall).

And then, you know, I went back to my mum and dad’s vardo, not so far away but without such a view of the water, and I did not think of the scents that lingered on the clothes I unpacked into the hutch, the drifting mist of him everywhere through his possessions. An, you’re a dreamer, I said to myself. The land of the dead does not unite with the spark of life. But then, you know. The wind came through the window, and it smelt of the sea and I thought I could smell his sheets, sheets I’d lain upon. And, I confess, I sinned.

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An is wearing a set of beautiful pigtails from Pink Hustler; the style is called PH 8169. Her tunic is from the February Treasure Box; it’s Rogue from Unrepentant, and it comes in a beautiful variety of colours. Those amazing eyes are Omega eye appliers from Out of Orbit, and they really are called Seelie Eyes. Her skin is the new Cashew tone from 7 Deadly s{K}ins, which will be released at the upcoming Skin Fair. The stunning vardo in these photographs is Death Row Designs’ beautiful Vagabond collection, which is coming soon to The Arcade GachaThe Arcade opens on the first of March, so prepare your pocketbooks, because this is a huge gacha collection, and ever little piece of it is beautiful. The gacha key is available on the Arcade Shopping Guide, but it’s also below for your viewing pleasure.

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DRD Vagabond Gacha Key

Style Card:

Setting: Awenia
Vardo: Death Row Designs, Vagabond RARE Trailer
All the decorations in the vardo are from the Death Row Designs Vagabond gacha.

Annwn:
Body: Maitreya
Head: Catwa, Catya Mesh Bento Head
Hair: Pink Hustler, PH 8169 (Available NOW at Hairology!)
Eyes: Out of Orbit, Seelie Eyes (Omega Appliers)
Skin: 7 Deadly s{K}ins, Cashew (New colour COMING SOON to the Skin Fair!)
Ears: Eclipse Art Studio, Nepthune Ears (Available FOR ONE MORE DAY at Fetish Fair!)
Hands: Vista, Bento Prohands
Tunic and belt: Unrepentant: Rogue, (Part of the February Treasure Chest!)
Leggings: Lassitude & Ennui, Handstitched Leather Leggings (Maitreya appliers)
Boots: Paper Moon, Huck Boots

Special thanks are due to Nathaniel Ballard (BenBold Resident), who created my new watermark for Enchanted Photography. Thanks, Nate!

Spiffy photos taken with the indispensible aid of my LumiPro. I’d never create a new Romany character just to decorate the Gypsy Davey’s new vardo without it!

h021017   1deathrownewlogo   7ds

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