The Vagabond’s Identity Part 1

My father owned the third largest architecture firm, that was contracted by The Society to redesign Caentibiry Alley.  My mother was a classically trained dancer and teacher.  My parents’ wealth allowed me to grow up in the privileged district of the City of Flowers in Biell.

I spent my childhood in Vargaria and Huxia, where as a family we converted to Rejenys.  Growing up I wanted to be a graphic fiction writer, with stories published in genre collections and periodicals. At 16, I worked my way across Bharat as an artist’s model.  I never considered myself the prettiest, but I smiled deceptively locking myself in another mind.

After Bharat, I took an ocean-liner back to Biell, in The Valley.  Having graduated high school early I treated what would’ve been senior year as a skip year.  During this time, I hung with the freaks and the wild ones, drank and got into drugs.  I lived hard in every moment. I joined Blithedale, and met Michel Caillois, who I wanted to teach me how everything worked. Continue reading “The Vagabond’s Identity Part 1”

Dorian & Lorelei

Dorian Iacchus sat across from Lorelei Saunders, respective cups of Qi’s poppy java between them.  Both forwent breakfast for smoking own salvia cigarettes.

Dorian leaned forward on the wrought-iron coffee table, his ankles crossed beneath the wooden chair.  His red hair was pushed beneath a brown knit hat.  Brown round-rimmed sunglasses sat atop his head.  Dorian had on a white t-shirt and an unbuttoned white, red, and blue flannel.  His black jeans were rolled above the ankle revealing his blue socks.  Dorian had on camel ankle boots; a leather messenger bag hung from the back of the chair.

Lorelei sat cross-legged heavily smoking her salvia, as she leaned back.  She had her blonde, pink, and magenta hair in a messy-bun.  Aviator sunglasses were on her nose, and a black and gold clutch sat on the table.  Lorelei had on a black romper, which was accented by a large orange-trimmed brown belt.  There was a matching colored silk scarf around her neck.  Lorelei had on Grecian heels.

The two had met in journalism ethics while attending Aerynd University, and then numerous classes until graduation.  They were inseparable.  While Ian and Jared filled his nights, Lorelei filled his days and weekends.  Often, the other was a great deal more pleasurable to be around than who they were having sex with.

Lorelei was the type of friend completely accepted another person as they are.  She’s the rare person that shares what she has, and the even rarer person who gladly gives up what she must to improve another’s standing.  Lorelei allowed people to drop their masks and be themselves.  In the instance of Dorian, he had found a person with similar proclivities underground Blithedale.  Both Dorian and Lorelei were voracious readers and deeply empathic, making each an ideal conversationalist for the other; smart enough to grasp references & allusions without explanation.  They remained friends through their successful endeavors: she became an associate editor/writer for FETCH magazine; Dorian became a popular graphic fiction writer and curator.

It had been just over three years since Lorelei and Dorian had seen each other.  The fault in their disconnection laid with Dorian.  After Jared broke up with Dorian it was a dark time.  He could no longer deal with people around, so he pushed all his support systems away.  Dorian had been convinced everything had to be done alone.

Dorian flicked his salvia butt into a drainage canal, pulled a second from his pack of 21, and lit it.  Exhaling deeply Dorian asked, “Interested in going to Huxia?”

Dorian on a balcony

Dorian stood on the balcony, a salvia cigarette dangled from his lips and a hot cup of poppy java was in his hands.  The sun was beginning to rise over the flotilla of interlocking boats.  The village floated around the remaining economic and political centers of Indonesia, as if spokes around a hub.

Beneath him, small merchant paddle boats navigated the space between the larger boats, bringing the quiet early morning to life.  As the merchants shouted their goods, the women came out to the decks of their homes and bartered for supplies.

Dorian flicked his cigarette into the green-brown water and sipped his coffee, watching the kiosks move on to the next large grouping.  Lighting a second marijuana cigarette Dorian went inside his room and got dressed.  Then Dorian went into his suitcase and grabbed a mat, placing it in his daybag.

Dorian left the boat, using the planks that connected each of the boats.  He stopped in the nearest aqua-square, and made his way to the large platform in the middle.  In the back Dorian unrolled his mat and knelt down, joining the other Jenysis practitioners.

Common Disaster

Common Disaster (Earphones)Jeremy Schwach was born in 2029 in the sunny multicultural Revenants, an only child.  His father, a member of the Praetorian Guard turned Masonric Corp engineer, wanted a better life for the family so he moved the family up the Messipi River to the very poor Port Town, in 2035; because Mid-Atlantic and Appalachian Mountain tectonic plate convergent zones caused subduction impossible to mitigate, or, in some cases, even to live with.  Sea levels rose covering the Carolinas to the eastern city-states and inland to I-95.  The east coast water is completely toxic with unknown quantities of sewage, fuel, and industrial chemicals, which have killed all sea life; vandals have lit the surface slicks on fire; Boston burned until 2016.  Every coastal city-state suffered losses in the eighty to ninety percent range.  The loss of 15% of its territory to the ocean, the loss of some of the most populated, symbolic, and valuable coastal city-states reduced the NAU to a loose collection of anarchist city-states.  The government of the NAU relocated to Arapahoe, becoming buildings full of ineffective men and women, lacking a treasury, an organized military, a reliable communications system. Continue reading “Common Disaster”

The Lone Vagabond

The Lone VagabondI stood, dressed in a vintage 50/50 Merc-Tile shirt and Adidas track pants, in front of my leather lined full length mirror, holding both outfits critiquing for all flaws or compliments; examining and modifying for the best narrative.  The first was J. Crew dark jeans, blue Gant Rugger cardigan, denim grey colored shirt by Band of Brothers, and Ralph Lauren shoes.  The second outfit was all Sean John: a brown leather racing jacket, black crewneck sweater, dark vintage wash jeans, and white shelltop shoes.

It had been two years since Ian Jimenez; four years since ending with Jeremy Schwach.  I believed they were different, but they weren’t.  Both smiled to confuse, while I talked; they were egocentric, but I thought myself unique.  They were cowards asking opinions like collecting pebbles, demanding emotional risks from others.  I expected others to provide answers I was not willing to discover; I read greedily choosing pieces of others’ ideas to get through situations with a minimal guilt.  To help with this delusion conversations and gestures were considered foreign languages to be deciphered.  I had dated but remained perpetually single, only selecting those that were unavailable either emotionally, physically, or by lifestyle; there was no risk of fault or blame when everything went wrong; I only wanted the appearance of trying, that way people felt sympathy.  “Dating is difficult,” they’d say and stop asking questions, so I could stay safe by not including anything that wasn’t previously established.

Continue reading “The Lone Vagabond”

A Vagabond’s Ways

A Vagabond's Ways            Pentapolis of the Valley’s number one vagabond dancehall is Etica, populated by the alienated, underweb-hackers, punks and clubbers equally.

The exterior of Etica is an uncomplicated warehouse, like any in Noex along Wuthering Canal.  The area began as an extension of Parkfront, which had been a vacation spot until it was overtaken by the 1899 formation of Landing Alley, the Valley’s main shopping district.

Underneath the dancehall are large drainages, returning water from the end of the alley-canals.  The mini-waterfalls were loud enough to be heard on the other side of the dancehall, where the line formed at the door of the once abandoned building.  It was originally constructed between 1843 and 1846, acting as a distribution for dry goods, and turned into a taxi depot in the 1930s.  It remained a depot until it was gutted by a fire in the 1960s.  Afterwards, the space was occupied by a seafood restaurant, a movie theatre, a dance school, and a bagel shoppe before being foreclosed during the recession of 2011.  Artistes and hackers made the warehouse their home and park during the years the building was foreclosed.  The hackers decorated the main floor with neon graffiti espousing integration with the underweb. In 2014 the squatter groups worked together to collect technology, drugs, and experiences to create a 24/7/365 model of communal vagabond culture.  The two social groups hybridized into a new caste of vagabonds, state identified as citizens lacking education, employment, or training – CLEET. They see the future as currency, founded in a belief in amalgamation leads to a better whole. Vagabonds believe the future belongs to them, that they do not have to adhere to a median standard life. Vagabonds spread their ideology by utilizing The Stream, further cultivating a sub-culture and style that capitalized in their outsider status. Then in 2043 FETCH magazine did a holiograph expose, “Harbingers of the Future,” on the original CLEET graffiti, bringing to attention of a capitalist who saw its appeal as a vagabond dancehall, a utopia of meaningful fun.

[For The Compete Short Story Click the PDF Below]

(2054) Vagabond’s Ways, A

 

CHARACTER: Dorian Iacchus p3

Dorian Iacchus Bio P3      With the success of the first Huxian collection, Dorian found further success with an academic critique and over-view about C.R. Kiernan in 2057.  That same year he signed a second contract with Tileal Publishing for more Babalon’s War collections.  Dorian found it difficult to begin further fiction writing, and turned to additional article and essay writings.  To distract himself, early the following year Dorian left for Huxia to collect inspiration and to begin work on a second coffee book he had decided to curate.

            In Huxia, and its island territories, Dorian became interested in the neo-esoteric movement, Rejenys, which had gained momentum following the Man from Megalith’s arrival.  Dorian detailed his conversion to the growing fringe religion through a series of bi-weekly essays for Ego’s Own, which renewed his fictional inspiration.

            Upon returning home Dorian was met with a large protest of Malthusians, who decried his conversion to Rejenys.  As a reaction to his persecution and malignment, Dorian’s bi-weekly essays began dangerously critiquing the Malthusian based governing laws.  While Dorian’s essays and articles had brought political inquiry to his citizenship, his openly espousing an opposing religious doctrine brought Dorian harassment from The Watch, the Malthusian Commission’ public security force.  To escape government surveillance Dorian took sanctuary in the nearest Holy Garden, The Magnolia Orchard.

CHARACTER: Dorian Iacchus p2

tumblr_npt8kedAyT1s977myo1_500

            Dorian dated DJ Jeremy Schwach, while having an affair with noted painter Ian Jimenez.  While dating Jeremy, Dorian’s Langham apartment became a Saturday evening gathering place for vanguards in arts and letters. Admittance into Dorian’s salon was a sought-after validation, and became combination mentor, critic, and guru to those who gathered around him.

            After Jeremy learned about Dorian’s affair, he moved on and began dating Ian.  Shortly afterward Dorian’s name came out as a former associate of the underground social club Blithedale.  Dorian turned his time with Blithedale into the novel Vagabond’s Ways, which was met by critical acclaim.  The novel presented readers with the outre challenge of piecing together the history of an unconventional polygamous experience, far removed from social and political expectations.  Despite detailing experiences outside of readers’ experiences Vagabond’s Ways’ popularity caught Tilael Publishing unprepared.  Dorian’s success overshadowed Ian Jimenez’s painting career that to had sputtered due to political controversy.  Eventually the stress of divergent career trajectories led to their break-up, which Dorian responded to by throwing himself into work at Ego’s Own.  For the next two years Dorian curated a collection of autobio-graphic fiction by Huxia artists, which detailed the effects of the Genesis Revolution on them and their culture.

CHARACTER: Dorian Iacchus

b6dwj5wcaaa-7asDORIAN IACCHUS

Occupation: Writer, Junior Editor

5’6”

115lbs

Hair: Cedar

Eyes: Blue

 

Dorian Iacchus was born in the City of Flowers to creative parents.  His father was an architect who owned the third largest architecture firm; his mother was a classically trained dancer and teacher.  Dorian spent his childhood and early life in Vargaria and Huxia, where his parents converted to Anthrosophiscal Society.  At 17 he began working as an artist’s model.  While attending Aerynd University he appeared in final project student films.  At the Waterfront Annex’s graduating show Dorian Iacchus’ critical short story cycle, Snow, yielded a publishing contract with Tilael Publishing.

Rather than go home after graduation, Dorian moved into the Langham building, amongst vagabonds, ecchi, socialists, and anarchists who encouraged playing with sexuality and sexual roles.

In 2053 Dorian met Edna Millay, editor-in-chief of e-periodical Ego’s Own, at philo-café Freethought, who introduced him to a circle of writers and thinkers; often times meeting at dancehall, occupying a table all evening.  As a free-lancer for Ego’s Own, Dorian turned down assignments, earning a reputation for being difficult.  Yet, for what was accept he received notoriety, earning a junior editorial position.  There he edited, become friends with, and in some cases lover to leading literary and artistic figures