*/ old gypsy tales

[Gunari "Gun" Romani]

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------ California, the state... A beautiful rich land chalk full of stories of wars and strife that about eighty percent, if not more, of it's inhabitants had forgotten about. California's land is rich and vibrant, healthy and fertile. Many people fought for it's treasures throughout the centuries and yet it had been the United States that had won and California flourished. The rushed in the miners for the gold and then came the vineyards and of course, Hollywood. California became the 'it' spot for corporate culture and commercialism. A land of cheap sex and political scandal. Anything to sell to the public right? But throughout it's faults, it was still one of the least conservative and most progressive of the states. It allowed gay marriage. It was bit on environmental issues and it even elected a chiseled foreign robot as it's governor... bravo. But here he was. Gunari Besnik Romani had not been in the United States very long, not very long at all in fact as he had just stepped off the plane perhaps an hour ago. He had been glad to be off. All he could afford was the cheapest most crunched seat on a LONG flight. By the end of it he was feeling a little claustrophobic. This was his first time in the States. It was never somewhere he felt a real need to go but he never was too turned off by the idea. And when he had found out that his sister was here in Valkyrie, California, he had wasted no time on getting himself here. In fact to do so, he ended up doing something he had never done before and felt horrible about. But he did what he had to.

------ Despite the fact that Gunari, who usually went by Gunner or Gun, had lived primarily on the streets or abandoned buildings for the past few years, he had never been a thief. But that's how he got here. He had stolen from a tourist in Paris. Taken her wallet when she wasn't looking. Really though, you shouldn't let your purse hang wide open during conversation. But there it was and since she was a tourist he knew she would have a lot of cash for shopping so he had taken a few hundred cash before cutting up her cards for her. He wasn't out to steal her identity or anything. And he felt badly about it but he needed to get to the United States. Honestly, he hadn't expected Fairuza to have gone so far away but he understood. She didn't have much chance of being caught here by her husband now did she? Yes, his sister was married. His one year older than him sister. You see, unlike most main stream cultures, their's still practiced child marriages. The marrying age of kids in their culture ranged from 12 to 15 years old. What exactly were they born? Most people call them Gypsies although Roma is the preferred term. And take it from someone who knows, while they might seem "exotic" or "mysterious" to outsiders, all the traditions, all the sexist rules, all the rules in general, they got old fast. One of the reasons he left was because he just couldn't make his life work there. Not that he had done much better after leaving.

------ Actually, I don't want to say that. He had learned a lot from his years on the streets. And he would never have fallen in love. He fell madly in love after leaving his family. It was passionate and emotional, dry and sarcastic yet vibrant and creative love and it was a love for photography. Both still and video. He had known anything else to be so expressive. Gun in private with his life and he doesn't want that to change. He is private with his feelings too. I guess the way he gets it all out is his art. His film whether it be video or still. He loved filming. He loved photography. He enjoyed being able to capture the world in a way that everyone can recognize and understand while seeing it through his eyes. That was what was so amazing about photography especially, showing people what they've seen before but in ways they've never known it to exist. It was just something new. Gun's camera was probably his best friend. It was an old leica camera. Back when he had been living in Paris, earning money by modeling for artists, he was approached by a male photographer named Luke. He wanted to shoot Gun but did not have any money to pay him. He offered Gun a place to sleep and a hot meal though and that was good enough for him. After taking a few black and whites, Gun and Luke were simply chatting, Gun asked out of curiosity about the photography. Luke explained what he loved about it and how none of it would mean anything to Gun unless he had a photographer's soul. Gun asked the older man how he would know if he had one. It gave Luke an idea. He went into the closet and pulled out an old case containing the same classic vintage leica camera. He gave it to Gun that night. It was Gun's first camera. Ever. As he held it for the first time, he felt his finger tips get warm. He was in love with the instrument and he hadn't even taken a picture yet. But that changed quickly. Luke taught him a lot over the next week Gun ended up staying with him. He taught him how to develop the film, he taught him how to use the development process to create effects because developing the film was half the art form.

------ Gun already had his camera out and was busy taking random shots as he walked through the streets of the Californian town. He got a few looks but more from interested women than people thinking it was weird. He was glad the place seemed to be normalized to art scene. It was not exactly something he was expecting, not that he was surprised either. Gun paused his walking to get into a phone booth and pull out the phone book, now where to find his sister? He knew she was here, and he knew her well enough. Basically he knew he needed to search for the auto-shops and go and ask if she worked there. He smiled as he saw only one in the local area. Gun slammed the book shut and exited the phone booth, pulling his back pack's strap further up onto his one shoulder as he jogged across the street and made his way towards the post office to grab a city map. Within a half hour's walk he was there. He smiled as he walked into the garage and up to the older fellow behind the counter. "Hello." Gun spoke with his Romanian accent weakened by years in France, "Does a woman named Fairuza happen to work here?" The older gentleman looked at the teenage boy as if he were measuring him up from head to toe. After a moment he nodded, "Yeah, she's workin' now, why?" Gun gave a smile at his victory in finding her, "Can I talk to her?" The man scoffed and nodded, "Yeah AFTER she gets off in a half hour, I ain't gonna have no boys distracting her while she's on the job." "Of course but you must make exception, you see I'm he-" "You could be her dying husband for all I care, wait until that clock hits five." the man added pointing above him.

------ Gun sighed and knew he wasn't going to budge. His inner mind taking note of the funny accent that was different from most American accents he had been hearing around. But accents always varied within countries through out their different regions. He turned around and walked back outside of the shop. He looked around briefly before spotting an amazing car, it looked different from any car he'd ever seen, looked like something out of an old American magazine (he's standing near Orion's car because I didn't know if Fair had one). He lifted his camera and took a quick shot of it, dropping his bag gently next to it. Now to wait for Fairuza.

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STATUS;; complete
TAGGED;; the epicness of fairuza romani
CREDITS;; format stolen from lainey, with a little tweaking by me
LYRICS;; 'Dead End Mystery' by Sondre Lerche
CLOTHES;; here
NOTES;; yay first gun post, still getting a feel for him