Valentina

  What is more unfair than having to choose between being a monster or                        being a hero? (—when you have to be both.).                                            You are not heads or tails. You are the Coin.  

[masterjameshartwell-blog]

Nebulous Vestiges || Val & James

James always enjoyed the mental exercise found in questioning most of his prevailing modes of thought. Something that came frighteningly easy to him. He was a man who - even as a young boy - would delve deep into the recesses of his mind to try comprehend every thing that surrounded him. Only to find that some things, rarely, could not be explained.

So when he found his mind with floating thoughts towards Miss Alvarez, and her eerily fantastic Valentines day gift, he decided that it was not something that could be easily explained. A man, especially of his stature, thought about a thousand things in the span of a minute, and he freely admitted that some of his thoughts were about the fairer sex. However, Val’s face had entered his mind twice today. The first time was when he had woken, walked to his kitchen where he had posted her letter from her most recent gift. Containing one of his favorite quotes from Seneca. He wondered what she would say knowing he had taped such a thing to his fridge. The second time was when he was day dreaming in his board meeting, one of the rare occurrences where it lasted longer than an hour, full of monotonous, useless information spewed by men far older and far less qualified than himself. Only he didn’t want to think about Valentina Alvarez, certainly not as much as he was. He had met her a handful of times, although every single time she threw him off his game. Entered his personal space, danced around his questions, euphemisms and insinuations without falter.

Regardless, it was 3:23p.m when James decided that a strong drink was necessary. Ditching his glasses on his desk, he asked his personal assistant to hold all his calls and allow no one to enter. Pouring himself a glass of single malt, he sipped at the beverage, eyes darting to the busy NY skyline in front of him. His office was one of the ones on the very top of the Hartwell Industries building, and had a expansive view of Brooklyn and New York city behind it. He would have spent hours, perhaps weeks of his lifetime, looking out at this skyline and view, picturing and seeing the same thing but every time he perceived it, it was like he was seeing it for the first time. He would always see something different. A faint buzzing noise pulled him out of his thoughts, and he recognized the noise instantly to be his PA using the intercom.

“Mr. Hartwell? I’m sorry, she just – she just barged through!” His brows furrowed and he was about to walk over to his desk to tell her that her vague information was not becoming, when his office door was opened and almost thrown against the wall.

[valentinaxalvarez-blog]

Occupation was a word she understood fairly well, preoccupation something she often engaged in ..preoccupation with things and thoughts was her forte afterall but preoccupation with a person (especially someone who’s case she wasn’t even studying) was certainly new and Valentina for once was unable to understand her own mind. She had attempted to project a cold facade when the package at Christmas had come with that book, though internally her curiosity was at it’s peak..for she knew possibly only one person in her acquaintance could have dared to engage her mind like that and what she didn’t know was why. A return gift to Athena’s cuffs? Was that his excuse? If it was, she would be a bit disappointed for reasons her mind was refusing to acknowledge. So she had read the book cover to cover but resolved not to think too much of it- and she had succeeded too and would have further if another gift had not followed, on her birthday!. She shouldn’t have been surprised but she most assuredly was when a beautiful bunch of roses arrived with a package- another book though with this one, all her calm and cool was lost. It was a personal copy! And she had been perusing it ever since, not just the words and the comments but the curve of his alphabets while at the same time chastising herself for being too engrossed, too flustered..over a book! (And maybe a bit over him)It was why Valentina had decided to retaliate, to irk him, to push her way into his consciousness like he had successfully been doing since the day she had met him and she had... with an hourglass and a note, satisfied that he would be aware of her identity but the purpose of that gift..on that specific date would certainly flummox him. 

It had been quite some time since they had seen each other and Valentina decided to change that. She had questions about the gang, about the leader, about so many things- and more than that, a pressing inquiry of if they would actually be able to help her locate her brother- her sole purpose of landing herself in New York. Her last meeting being in the gang head-office, she decided to go observe him at work in the Hartwell industries today, an adventurous task but as a detective, she had her ways. A simple flash of her identity card allowed her the access to his floor where she found his PA unwilling to oblige her. On any other day...with any other person, she would have allowed herself to wait or atleast attempt to call them, but here, she was determined to not conform. Despite the protest and feeling a bit guilty (though if she was surviving as his PA, perhaps this would be one of the easier things she had to deal with ), she stalked towards his room, half expecting it to be locked though when it wasn’t, a slight grin crossed her face as she pushed open the door and walked in like the owner, her curious gaze instantly finding his profile etched with the skyline. Ignoring his presence completely, she moved toward his empty chair and boldly sat down, her fingers picking up his glasses and after a beat trying it on. She had always wondered what his eye power was and now she had a first hand experience. “Perhaps someone did not to invest in a locking system, or atleast take advantage of it’s existence so I can say... I am in luck. Afterall, Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity, isn’t it?” Val began as a greeting hardly gazing at him but instead focused on studying the space she was now surrounded by. 

[valentinaxalvarez-blog]

It was probably just the fourth file she had been reading that day, but Valentina was already restless. Any other time, she would have easily focused on the graphic description of the crime, the horrific testaments and pictures without a single emotion- perhaps like a doctor witnessing the disintegration of the human body, known the science behind it, dealing with it in a very technical manner without having emotions get in the way. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel, she felt- Felt way too much than most people would understand. Most days she stayed up in her bed, waiting desperately to fall asleep before she fell apart. In her profession, she was always in control, always knowing exactly what she was doing, but when it came to feelings, that control slipped away. As Thich Nhat Hanh once put it “Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor” and that was what she did.  On Most days But today didn’t seem like one of those..the case hitting a bit closer to her heart than she’ll like, of a missing brother and murdered parents. Massaging her temples, she pushed the files away and shut her eyes, trying to be objective and not let thoughts of Andalusia and Markos invade her mind But even her power had boundaries and today it had completely exhausted it’s limits

@littlestdiamond

[princesseiza]

[latinizar]

[valentinaxalvarez-blog]

Pagemasters (Elijah & Valentina)

[valentinaxalvarez-blog]

@elijahxthomas

It had taken both a long time, and no time at all for Elijah to decide his terrible past wouldn’t determine how he treated people. He could never change what happened, or how it effected him. And perhaps it had changed him drastically in minor areas. And perhaps he was cold inside with the pain that settled over him. But he would smile, and he would care, and if anyone ever needed help he’d be there, night and day. Because to his core, despite tenancies to be introverted, and being terminally awkward, he cared for people. Most would say there wasn’t a mean bone in his entire being, and they’d be almost right. He’d learnt that it was easy to put up a believable facade, but it was hard to pick it on others. So he needed to remain soft, to remain kind, because the people that came through his store, may just need a nice smile for their day to turn upwards.

“Oh I know right. The only subject that i’m almost completely knowledgeable on, and it’s annoying. My heart shatters. But I am eternally grateful for your forgiveness.” he said with a light chuckle, ducking his chin for a moment. His knowledge of books had often been a source of annoyance or discomfort for others, Growing up it wasn’t normal to be as involved in literature as he was, and a lot of people couldn’t understand. Which often left him on the outskirts, then again that was how he preferred it.

“I’m expecting a great challenge next time” Elijah said with a small smile as he brought his gaze back up to her as she flicked through the book. And as she spoke quoting the book, a line that had in fact hit him fairly hard the first time he’d read it as well. And perhaps it held as much weight to her as it had to him, a truth of his life that had never really been put so accurately. A cold empty void that remained inside of him, leaving him wondering how to fix and fill it, and if anything would ever be enough. He took a moment to consider the weight of her words, the reality of it. “I’d hope not. I like to think that someday down the line we’ll all learn that our time will run thin and we just want to speak what we never did. But I guess sometimes it hard to talk about it without feeling like you’ll lose yourself all at the same time.” he replied, with a slight shrug. A lot of the time he felt if he talked about what happened, if he went there, he’d never be able to recover. It’d tear and break him apart until he was nothing. “You know I think it’s on my pile.” he said gesturing to the enormous piles that sat in the corner, all books Elijah was yet to read but would do so soon. “Surely he’s not as daring as you my friend.”

Most people saw kindness as an attribute of the weak, of people who felt too powerless to protest or roar or demand things. It was a really sad fact that in the world they lived in, kindness was associated with meekness with soft people being looked down upon, but as she had come to realize, things were quite the contrary. In the world that thrived in pessimism where betrayal, back-biting, cruelty were common place actions and which provided an overdose of negativity each time one opened the newspaper, it took immense strength to be kind. Most people underestimated the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment or the smallest act of caring all of which had the potential to turn a life around. It was especially difficult in her line of work to meet with someone who had these traits, which was why running into Elijah had been such a moment of luck. Valentina firmly believed that anytime she interacted with someone, each person’s consciousness in some subconscious manner, did affect her own. Elijah’s presence calmed her, made her believe in the humaneness of people, a huge feat in itself, which was why every time a huge bout of pessimism and hopelessness hit her, she found her way to his bookstore. 

“I am actually glad you have this knowledge. I don’t smile at just everyone you know. And I’ll forgive you if you do promise to allow me to happily tease you about everything for all eternity” she retorted with a grin “Plus you should be super proud of this knowledge and of people calling you a nerd. Remember the quote of John Greene where he says’ Nerds like us are allowed to be unironically enthusiastic about stuff… Nerds are allowed to love stuff, like jump-up-and-down-in-the-chair-can’t-control-yourself love it. When people call people nerds, mostly what they’re saying is ‘you like stuff.’ Which is just not a good insult at all. Like, ‘you are too enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness’” The conversation reminded her of the innumerable debates she would have with her twin brother and how crazy they used to drive their parents. Thoughts about him sent an intense pang to her heart and she flipped the pages to distract her mind. Almost a year and there was still no sign of him anywhere.

But in a way she was glad she could speak without filters with Elijah-one of the very few people she had shared her passion for books and for life in itself . As he began replying to her pragmatic inquiry, she did have a spark of hope that maybe someday, somewhere she would be strong enough to acknowledge the language of her own heart “I get what you mean. I feel like I fear violence less than my own emotions. Your inner turmoil, your own solitary pain is much worse and much more intense than anything anyone else can inflict upon you.” A heavy confession, something that she rarely ever did. At his comment about Sir Percy, her eyes began twinkling with laughter “Then you certainly need to read the book. He is way more daring than I can ever be. I am interested in...I can’t really call it saving, but benefiting individual lives while he had the desire to save an entire country’s. Anyway what have you been up to these days? And did you read the article in the newspaper about the writer praising e-books over paperbacks and hardcovers? I swear some people should never open their mouths except to yawn”

[valentinaxalvarez-blog]

“She could be hell                                                             on some days, heaven on others, sunny on some days, gloomy on others, you had to experience both to understand her beauty”  

[princesseiza]

[fyp-psychology]

We’re always contradicting ourselves. We want people to tell us apart…. …yet we don’t want them to be able to. We want people to get to know us… …but we also want them to keep their distance. We’ve always longed for someone to accept us… But we never believed there’d be anyone who would accept our twisted ways. That’s why we’ll stay locked up tight… …in our own little private world… …and throw away the key, so that no one can ever hurt us.

Bisco Hatori

[valentinaxalvarez-blog]

Most people lived all their life wanting to be somebody else- somebody cooler, prettier, stronger, famous, smarter and the list simply went on. It seemed like an unwritten law somewhere that while human beings achieved many things in life, satisfaction in themselves would never be one of those. The hair was always too short ,too long, too thin or too thick, the nose would always be too pointy or too blunt, the figure too thin or too fat. It felt like they lived in a world of ‘toos’, of never having the luxury of being content with just the way they were. It seemed like the story of the dissatisfied crow her abuela had once told her. A crow being dissatisfied with himself went to the yellow canary saying how lucky it was to have such a bright colour and how much the crow wanted to be like that bird. The Canary looked dejected and said that it’s yellow colour was boring and that it, in reality wanted to be a parrot since it had two colours. The crow then flew to the parrot praising it’s green feathers and red beak but the parrot shook it’s head and replied that it had just two colours but the peacock was the luckiest bird for having multiple shades. Finally going to the peacock, the crow expressed his feelings, wishing he could be a peacock too but the sad peacock looked at him and said that while it had beautiful feathers, it had no freedom and in reality wished it could be a crow to fly above without a care of humans attempting to capture it. The memory of that story brought a smile to Valentina’s face for she had once been like that crow too, when she had first joined the detective force, even to the point of wishing she had been a man, just to make people take her seriously. But slowly and steadily, she had learned and was still learning that sometimes,there was no need to change anything-that she could be herself and still be successful. Her Bike had been a testament of that psychological transition and for someone now to say that they understood, even the glimpse of just what the bike meant to her was utterly gratifying and she was left with a feeling that she had indeed taken a right decision. 

“I am glad you do” she replied back with a broad smile, her dimples coming out- the indication that it was a genuine one rather than her usual sardonic type that was on constant display “It was one of the things that taught me about the concept of freedom. It seems like an easy term on the surface but when you think about it, the definition is so deep. Fear is not just that we are incapable but at times, it is because we are too capable and powerful beyond measure and while riding this bike gave me complete freedom over the road, it also taught me restraint and responsibility. It taught me too that ‘if we don’t  believe in freedom of expression for people we despise, we don't believe in it at all*.’ So you see, it’s actually a very dangerous term” A light shrug accompanied her heavy statements and while her part of her couldn’t really explain just why she was sharing her thoughts with a stranger, there was another part that somehow just recognized a sort of fire in her companion’s eyes- a fire that was burning in her own too, of perhaps passion, curiosity, intelligence or vengeance. Getting off her vehicle, she securely placed the helmet on the handle before moving towards the establishment, grinning at her companion’s words as they both entered, her eyes scanning momentarily to spot the lipstick section. “Obi Wan...Star Wars isn’t it? My brother used to be a huge fan” she confessed making her way towards their destination “I myself haven’t really watched it. A scandalous move it seems, as I have been told at times by my colleagues” 

*Noam Chomsky

[qeckosfuller]

[la-poesie-dans-la-rue]

“What’s your favorite form of art?” “The most complex one.” “Which is?” “People.”

[electric-daisy-forest]

Anonymously tell me what kind of vibe I give off

[eizagonzalezsource]

[metaphorformetaphor]

At night, my dreams rhyme, and all day I have an aftertaste of insomnia.

Vladimir Nabokov, from Letters to Vera (Penguin Classics, 2014)

[valentinaxalvarez-blog]

@thewolfreak

Wolfrick laughed. “gracias, golfa” he returned, playfully. Oh gosh, he was having so much fun. He crossed his arms loosely while leaning back against the wall once more. “Did a few international relationships. Also my sister like learning new things quite often and I was the only one who could help her” he shrugged. Not a lot was known for him, but in a sense, he was a lot more open that most “criminals” were. When he felt she was diverting from the topic way too far, he was sure she loved using smoke and mirrors, so he’ll just put down his own. “Alright, senorita, does a man that goes by Sixes is familiar to you? Or you willingly work for anyone?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Tienes un morro que te la pisas” She retorted her eyes narrowed at that comment and his nonchalance. This was a rare day indeed when someone came simply out of nowhere and began interrogating her in a subtle manner. Usually she would have scared the person with her sarcasm and when that did not work, stomped her heels on their feet and walked away and while the inclination to do so now was indeed strong right now, she desisted both in part due to his linguistic ability and her own curiosity. “International relationships? I see..so what other languages do you know? What else did you help her with?” Valentina inquired twirling her bike keys in her hand. At his mention of Sixes though, she straightened, her sharp gaze fixed on his profile “Yes I have heard of him, heard quite a lot about him actually..many of what’s been happening lately has his stamp over it. But what’s it all to you? Do you work for him?”

[heartcountry]

…throw roses into the abyss and say: ‘here is my thanks to the monster who didn’t succeed in swallowing me alive.’

Friedrich Nietzsche 

[valentinaxalvarez-blog]

@jakebecket

“Ah, you see that’s something I’d never tell. That’s too much of a risk to go around telling beautiful women with motorbikes.” Jake said cocking his head to the side. When people come out from school, they’re always told what to do, never to do things on their own. He listened intently to what she said about her brother, it seems that her brother did not want to be found and much less by his sister. “Well, you should go to this bar, a lot of loners there. Not really wanting much attention. Perhaps he’s been there before.”

“A risk?” A chuckle erupted from her lips “What exactly is the risk? the woman? her beauty? or her motorbike? Whatever do you think I’ll do with the information? Go to the police and predict a crime” Val inquired humor evident in her tone. She was rather curious to understand his psychology about the whole thing and there was something that told her it wouldn’t just be a normal bland kind of crime. “So what is it? Bank robbery? Explosions? Rare painting, artifact theft?” In her years of being a detective, she had come across different types of thieves- those who did it out of necessity, others out of a need for adrenaline rush and some others out of curiosity or defiance. He seemed as someone who was playing around the fringes of these borders. At his suggestion, she looked uncertain for a moment “That seems like a plausible place. Where is this bar? Is it too far away from here?”