The (in)famous Brussels
This is THE capital. A center of all the major European political power. A home to the most important politicians of the old continent, a place where magnificent glass structures are watchfully observing the unity of countries. Decisions which are being made here cascade in a chain reaction through millions of people, they affect both kids and their parents, both their bosses and presidents of their countries. Brussels is famous for being the place for piles of papers, hours of phone calls and weeks of discussions… But is it?
This time Lembit, the monarch of the Empire of Estonian stones, rocks and boulders, said that his subjects have something to deliver for those in the big office. In times like these, any advice is crucial, therefore The Council trusted in Edward’s medium-like abilities to communicate with elders via time portals, and accepted him as a guest. Even though his skills might have been formed during psychotronic Nazi experiments, and he might be still radiating with health threatening levels of radiation, the power Edward possesses is too great to be dismissed.
And so here he is, floating together with the clouds above a cozy Brussels’ cityscape, where tiny and diverse streets invite for a walk, where narrow roads and green avenues dominate the landscape, where oddly scattered skyscrapers rise above the concrete jungle in random places instead of being concentrated in a single area.
As the sun settles behind the horizon, Edward descends into the physical realm. And he instantly gets confused. “What is this city?” — he curiously asks. Obviously, it’s still Brussels, but something is different. Now it’s like a wild jungle here: streets are brimming with parties, darker corners are occupied by raging drunkards, and larger squares are covered in people sitting on the pavement as it would be grass there. It’s unlike anything you would expect from a political capital of Europe. This city has two completely different faces: a heavenly day, and vicious night.
Edward grins: “It’s like uncontrolled mass hysteria. I love it”, and he follows the tingling in his spine leading to the place where a new portal has to be opened. The party vibe attracted Pauliine’s, Leelo’s and Hämar’s attention, therefore they insisted to appear nearby the main nightlife street.
Cosmic microwave background disturbed the otherwise calm as desert Edward’s mind. He felt how the cyberspace, where Miina & Enn is lost, started to crack, and with a couple of swift moves, he released them out of the trap.
How does the stone language sound like? Lembit explains: “Vocal communication is primitive and limited, it cannot convey stones’ thoughts since their ideas had grown remarkably complex over thousands of years of contemplation. They speak telepathically, and you have to become as slow as they are to be able to tune into their frequency”. Lembit requests for a portal in two places: the old town of Brussels, and Estonian embassy, where he will be able to throw the words of wisdom to high ranked policy makers.
The eye of The Big Brother is vigilant, the corrupt forces of stagnancy and anti-progress are scanning every corner of the sleepless city, looking for anyone rebellious. Edward got noticed. The ritual got disturbed.
Spirits of the elders are enraged. The wind is fiercely blowing, rapidly racing through the tiny streets of this oddly globalization result called Brussels. As the officers are about to bring Edward into the cell, time stops and gloom of the night collapses on the ground, submerging this troublesome company in a thick dark texture where Edward is able to merge with surroundings. Suddenly he becomes the air which you breathe, the light which you see, the silence which you never hear.
Within this silence a wild bagpipe thunders, and Edward turns into a physical body once again. It’s Ats#Pets — two rebellious musicians — who decided to make a gig dedicated to anarchy, as a resistance to infamous act Police just did.
Brussels is a professional trickster. During the day it’s famous, it features outstandingly decorative architecture, magnificent museums and the tastiest waffles on earth, while its night infamously invites to wacky situations on nearly every corner, brings piles of trash to streets, and even smells like piss every 50 meters. As paradoxical as it is, this diversity is exactly what lets this city to come out of this troubling contrast smelling like roses (or waffles) — every corner has something to tell, every neighborhood has its distinctive atmosphere, and even though sometimes you can feel overwhelmed of all that, but it’s remarkably interesting to walk around.
And that’s what Edward did by diffusing into abstraction and inhibiting every person that walked the streets. His eyes became eyes of all, his feet touched the whole city at once, his hands grasped everything there is, his mind ran through every though there could be. Thus he felt what’s missing. Thus he left his last marks.
Because it was needed.