#robin jones

[shesthespinstersimmer]

Last looks (2)

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[neathyingenue]

Introducing the 🪄Flighty Puppeteer

in the ♟️Great Game!

A Profit-Sharing Busker

You first see her not in Wilmot’s End proper, but a few blocks away, before the streets get quite so circuitous. A woman in a gauzy veiled hat sits on a stool under a gas-lamp, making a puppet dance. It’s a little soldier in paint so shiny it might still be wet, wearing a jaunty bandolier. The woman has no music. The performance is silent save the clacking of complex wooden joints and feet. Few people pass this way, but those who do can’t help but stare at the soldier as he marches in place, stumbles, picks himself up, marches again, stumbles again, picks himself up again—the march growing more labored, the getting-up slower. Finally he collapses, the strings going slack.

Now the Puppeteer’s veiled face raises toward your own. You can’t see her face, but you get the sensation that she’s looking at you. And now the puppet stirs. Its face raises as well. The painted black eyes look at you. Then—in a movement that should be impossible—the soldier heaves himself up and slings off the bandolier. No longer a soldier, he cuts a caper, and the Puppeteer’s up now, too, beating time with white boots that flash under her skirts. Finally, she curtsies, he takes a bow, the knot of onlookers applauds—but the show’s not over yet. The puppet looks at his Puppeteer and taps an impatient foot. She gives an exaggerated “What?” gesture. His foot reaches out and kicks at the bonnet holding the pennies she’s earned from the performance—not many—but she nods at him, understanding. She shifts the puppet’s apparatus to one hand and counts out the pennies—one for him, one for her, until the puppet nods in satisfaction.

How will you pay your respects?

>Approach with Two Pennies

Unlocked when you have Addressed As: "August Shaw"

As the onlookers disperse—some going to Wilmot’s End, some leaving it—you take out two pennies: one for the lady, one for the puppet. The puppet bows his thanks. And the Puppeteer speaks for the first time, low, so only you can hear:

“Sic semper tyrannus.”

She pronounces the Latin in the ecclesiastical style, as someone whose native tongue is a Romance language: your ear is trained enough to identify it as Spanish from the American continents, not the European.

Then she reaches her free hand and—for the briefest moment—pulls back her veil. You see a pretty plump face, warm brown, with a pronounced bow to the lips and wide-set eyes. She inclines her head to you, and you know she knows who you are, and what you have done. Then she drops the veil again and turns away.

A few days later, you pass a poster advertising “The Flighty Puppeteer in ‘La selva’—One Night Only—Mahogany Hall.” The pretty face, or a passable likeness, beams from the poster. A paper is tucked into the tiny space between the poster and the wall. You edge it out: a playing card, the King of Diamonds, torn in two.

>Approach with a whole Echo

Unlocked when you have Addressed As: "Robin Jones"

You make a shallow bow and extend a folded bill toward the Puppeteer. You inquire if she and the can puppet can split it between them?

Behind the veil, you see blurry features form a smile. The Puppeteer takes the bill between her gloved fingertips, brushing your own, and assures you that will be possible. “If I didn’t,” she explains, “he would not agree to perform with me at all. And he has been wanting some Whisper-Satin for a new cravat.” The Puppet nods emphatically.

The next time you dream of the Chessboard, an Ebullient Knight in Black dances across the board in perpendicular steps. It’s difficult to tell, but you get the unmistakable sense that she winks at you.

>Stand and contemplate the performance

Unlocked when you have Addressed As: "Mina Azoulai"

It takes your mind a moment to register that the performance is over, the few observers are tossing their pennies and wandering away, and you’re the only one still staring at the Puppeteer as she packs the puppet in a leather case. She’s put back her veil so she can see what she’s doing, and now she turns to you, her warm brown cheeks dimpling.

“Professor Azoulai?”

She motions you forward and snaps the puppet case shut. Then she recites softly:

“...no de esotra parte en la ribera dejará la memoria en donde ardía; nadar sabe mi llama la agua fría, y perder el respeto a ley severa.”*

So this is the agent you’ve heard of, then, who’s been assigned to Spain and the Americas—the countries like opposing riverbanks across the cold Atlantic, bound by language, custom, and the flame of resistance—just as your work spans the Straits of Gibraltar. As you puzzle over the archaic sonnet quotation, the Puppeteer tugs a folded paper out of her waistband and hands it over. You unfold it as she flounces away, swinging the puppet case: a poster for “The Flighty Puppeteer at Mahogany Hall.” A wordy paragraph assures the reader of the high quality of the act, and the first and last letter of each line forms an acrostic for an address.

*I will not leave memory where it burns on the other side of the riverbank; my flame knows how to swim in cold water and lose respect for the severe law.

Tagging the Midnighters: @zeebreezin, @viric-dreams, @letheology

[thebowerypresents]

The Beta Band – Brooklyn Steel – November 2, 2025

Reunited and it feels so good: Back in NYC to perform for the first time in 23 years this past weekend, eclectic Scottish rockers the Beta Band closed out a two-night run and their highly anticipated North American tour on Sunday night at Brooklyn Steel. 

Photos courtesy of Edwina Hay | thisisnotaphotograph.com

@thesearenotphotographs

[letheology]

A rare moment of rest for Mina & Jones (@viric-dreams)

(Slight non-sexual nudity below the cut. Nothing sexual happened here, they took a nap together.)

[The card arrives at your home the next morning.] “Thank you. -R” [Was this about last night? You hadn’t had to properly talk about it, but you get the feeling that something has shifted between the two of you as a result. You hope it helped, in any case.]

[Mina doesn’t send a response to your card, at least not yet, but it doesn’t take long to uncover their “message”. When you reach for your handkerchief, you find that they’ve swapped one of yours for their own. Well, at least they left you a replacement. Equivalent exchange, so says this gesture. Balance.]

[simspaghetti]

Hannah eventually relented and decided she needed to tell Aiden about her conversation with Emmaline.

It was a neccessary conversation, she knew that, but it didn't help her dread it any less.

(All Chapters)

[rosemary1315]

SU OC: Robin Jones

[Update: July 27, 2021]

Okay, I draw this oc when month ago. This is Robin Jones.

Robin Jones is Chef at hotel in Bangkok. He's Harry's younger brother. He's Australia-American. He's Fon (Sudawadee Sangarun)'s boyfriend. He moved to Thailand to work as chef at hotel in Bangkok.

[burlveneer-music]

Robin Jones Seven - El Maja - 2020 reissue of 1972 UK Latin jazz LP (Jazz Room Records)

London, England: Early 1970's. The airwaves ruled by a mixture of Novelty Pop and Glam by day, Progressive Rock by night. Down at the Disco every night finishes with Jeff Beck's “Hi Ho Silver Lining” if you're lucky, all 11 minutes of “Freebird” if you're not. Not the best time to release an uncompromising and highly creative foray into Latin Jazz territory. The Robin Jones Seven “El Maja” unsurprisingly falls into that limbo known as “between the cracks”. Cue a decade later, it's the beginning of the 1980's, a tough decade with tough dancefloors. Two-tone, Punk, Funk, Northern Soul and some Heavy, Heavy Dub. And Jazz. Jazz For dancing. Jazz for cutting up your mates with your moves. Combat Jazz. One of the essential tools for any aspiring Jazz DJ was this re-discovery; a dig from the dustiest part of the basement piece of wax that's just chock full of Latin Jazz Burners! Back in the night of the day there was only one store that had a decent supply of these must have treasures: Fusions Records run by DJ Paul Murphy. “They came into the stock room and as fast as I could put them on the shelves they were snapped up.” With originals now going for a wallet busting $400 (and up!) Jazz Room Records are pleased to make this long lost classic available once more. A groundbreaking album, "El Maja" was released by The Robin Jones Seven in 1972. Robin Jones: "My early recordings all crossed the lines musically between Afro-Cuban and Afro-Brazilian music. I made two such albums that were released by Apollo Sound in the 1970s: "Denga" and "El Maja". Uptempo, four hundred feet or more on the floor stompers like “El Maja”, “Carica Papaya”and the track that Robin himself said is the first recorded Samba tune in the UK: “Batucada Da Vida” are complemented by the Afro-Boogaloo of “The Wailer”, the soulful grooves of “Chant Afrique” and a particular highlight being the funk drenched “Atlas”. Roy Edwards: Trumpet and Flugel horn. Olaf Vas: Alto, Tenor and Soprano saxes. Flute, Alto Flute and Piccolo. John Porter: Keyboards, Vibes . Percy Borthwick: Bass. Tony Uter: Congas. Simon Morton: Bongo's. Robin Jones: Drums, Timbales, Percussion. Jazz Room Records by The Original Jazz DJ Paul Murphy.

[shepherd-bones]

Did a live stream for the @womenwantedzine !

First, we talked about Robin and how she's an archeologist, and connected some dots to another fictional archeologist...

Then we connected several more dots- from tv archeologist to Laura Croft to Angelina Jolie to Maleficent

Then we might have discussed bad lip renderings and this happened:

Then we talked about a famous artist on the internet who gives all his women the exact same look, and I emulated it. Also, E.T. was there!

And finally we talked about what happens when some are told to be "ladylike" and this happened.

So yeah! If you like any of these, check out the next stream! (Will be announced by @womenwantedzine - be sure to check out the pre-orders and all the goodies that come with it!)