The Selladore - 6th Edition, Issue II

6th Edition, Issue 2

The Selladore

The Selladore

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6th Edition, Issue 2

The Selladore

Death by chocolate

Cover: Untitled, Maya Kors 2

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5th Edition, Issue 1 6th Edition, Issue 2

The Selladore The Selladore

12/7/2019 23/1/2022

SELLADORE "I was astonished when someone first showed that by writing cellar door as Selladore one produces an enchanting proper name.” - C.S. Lewis “Your language too has soft and beautiful words, but they are not always appreciated. What could be more musical than your word cellar-door?” - W.D. Howells “The modern small home or apartment has ... deprived today's child of ... the pleasant summer afternoon activity of sliding down cellar doors. Just what happened to the slanted cellar door in this efficient age isn't clear; although cellars have remained, nothing has disappeared more quietly from modern life than these cellar doors.” - William Chapman White “This famous linguist once said that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history, that ‘cellar door’ is the most beautiful.” - Karen Pomeroy “Sell a cellar, door a cellar, sell a cellar cellar-door, door adore, adore a door, selling cellar, door a cellar, cellar cellar-door. There is damned little meaning and less sense in such a sentence, but there is, unless my tonal balance is askew, twice more rhythm and twice more lovely sound in it than in anything, equally idiotic, that Miss Gertrude ever confected.” - George Jean Nathan “I’m like you ...I remember everything.” - André Aciman “No. It’s not a name. It’s something else. Selladore, it’s not a princess’ name, it can’t be. Selladore… is a place… It is a place which is revered by all who know of it. A sacred place marked at its centre by… by trees.” - David Gleeson and Stephen Beresford

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Contents Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Tracklist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7,8 Gladys’ Console . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Anonymous Insane. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Anonymous Behind the Scenes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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BMJS Untitled . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Kayla Shafai Untitled. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Cassandra Olivier Love is War. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Anonymous The Blur of Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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BMJS Right Person Wrong Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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BMJS The Galloway Legend . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Storm Voloshina Skydust . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Stella Fisher Fun Guy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Stella Fisher cold. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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BMJS Sweet Temptation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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BMJS Falling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

BMJS 5

25, 26, 27, 28, 29

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The Selladore

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6th Edition, Issue 2

The Selladore

23/1/2022

INTRODUCTION Within these pages are entire worlds, constellations of meaning and purpose brought to bear upon us by the students of Elmwood. There is a startling array of techniques and styles fraught with humour, passion and intent. Though each piece says something different they are similar in that they all say something, meaningful and forcefully. We started this journal for this express purpose, to give the students of this school an opportunity to regain control over language, to exert agency where there might exist passivity.

These authors have tamed language to meet their emotional ends and, in so doing, give you the reader an understanding that such things are possible, no matter your age or intent. We ask simply that you read these words with an open mind, an open heart and with the understanding that, should you choose to express yourself as well, we will be waiting for you with the next issue.

Sincerely, Your Editors

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TRACKLIST Netflix Trip . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

AJR

Midnight City . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

M83

Best Day of My Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

American Authors

The Less I Know The Better . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Tame Impala

Chosen Last . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sara Kays

Daddy Issues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Neighbourhood

Kill The Director. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Wombats

Out of My League . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fitz and The Tantrums

I’m not angry anymore. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cummrs

Rave in the Grave . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

AronChupa, Little Sis Nora

Kaleidoscope . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A Great Big World

Freaks. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jordan Clarke

Boy In The Bubble . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Alec Benjamin

Halo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Robert Mendoza

You Say . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Lauren Daigle

Love Someone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Lukas Graham 7

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broken . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

lovelytheband

Without You . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Avicii, Sandro Cavazza

Only the Good Die Young . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Billy Joel

Waiting For Love . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Avicii

Mr. Blue Sky . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Electric Light Orchestra

say goodbye . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sarcastic Sounds

Return to Pooh Corner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Kenny Loggins

Collapsible Lung. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Relient K

Teenagers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

My Chemical Romance

Like I Can . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam Smith

Jack & Rose . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Kennedy

Guilty Pleasures. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Confetti

Insane. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Black Gryph0n, Baasik

Fairytale. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Alexander Rybak

Soldier, Poet, King . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Oh Hellos

Older . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Alec Benjamin

Discord - The Living Tombstone . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Caleb Hyles

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Gladys’ Console, Anonymous 9

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insane Anonymous

pull me in pull me out rip me in half

pain enslaves me i can’t let go i won’t put myself back together

pull me out pull me in SNAP.

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Behind the Scenes, BMJS 11

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Untitled, Kayla Shafai 12

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Untitled, Cassandra Olivier

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Love is War Anonymous

All’s fair in love and war, huh?

What they don’t mention is the emotional trauma that comes with it.

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The Blur of Life, BMJS

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Right Person Wrong Time, Stella Fisher 16

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A Galloway Legend Storm Voloshina

In sun-kissed windy meadows They lay come summers day And hid below the frozen earth When snow a blanket lay.

Their merry songs accompanied The woodlark' whistling call, And heather ale freely flowed Enough they made for all.

Its sweetness was a secret Through generations told.

They cherished it, for they believed Its worth was more than gold.

Then one day, when the sun was bright And flowers were in bloom A thundercloud came from the south And brought along their doom.

A mighty champion in war His goals were set in stone, Destruction rained upon the lands He made them all his own.

His foes would see no mercy And soon across the fields Lay slaughtered bloodied soldiers The peaceful race of Picts.

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Untitled, Chloe Kwan 6th Edition, Issue 2

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The Scottish king rode through the lands Where heather bell grew tall But clouded was his victory And furrowed was his brow.

There's no one but the dwarfish folk Who brew the heather ale.

His power blinded him in war, Left none to tell the tale.

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Bird is the Word , Chloe Somerville

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Skydust, Stella Fisher 19

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Fun Guy, Stella Fisher

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From under oppressive currents we rise.

EDITORIALS 6th Edition, Issue 2 The Selladore

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cold BMJS my hands are cold they always are, but more so when near the living so full of warmth and comfort.

I pull it away, gently, delicately It feels like a slap The blood stills, face going pale.

no sound, no breath it’s all gone with the simple brush of my fingers gone and gone and gone again.

And it’s cold So very cold.

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Sweet Temptation, BMJS

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Falling BMJS “This is ridiculous, Crius,” Raina announced from where she was leaning against the wall. Her arms were crossed tightly, sharp golden eyes fixed on me. “I can’t believe you actually agreed to this.”

“Rai, don’t be dramatic. It’s just a show,” I said, straightening the collar of my jacket in the full-length, gilded looking glass.

“Don’t you realize how stupid you sound?” she griped, twirling a strand of her long dark hair. “You’re a prince, not a circus animal. They’re making a mockery of the crown and you know it.”

“Ah, sister you underestimate how much I crave attention. Also, you believe everything I say is stupid. It’s your job as little sister and bane of my existence,” I replied, running a hand through my hair to muss it up.

“You’ve been preening for hours you egotistical peacock,” she said. “Who are you trying to impress? The dozens of brain-dead women who will no doubt be gawking at you from the audience?”

“Precisely,” I told her, smirking through the mirror. “And you’re one to talk, Rai. I don’t believe I was the one who spent nearly two hours doing my hair this morning simply for a short escort by a guard.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, cheeks flushing. “Leave Evren out of this.”

“I never said a name, sister. But I appreciate the confirmation.”

“I’ll have you know, brother, that I do my hair because it would be a crime not to take care of it. Hundreds of your subjects are to be goggling at me today anyway. And that, is your doing. So forgive me if I wish to look the part of crowned princess.”

“Well then you’ll have no problem with the fact that I’ve arranged a different escort for you,” I said, tugging on my cuffs.

“What?” she snapped, cheeks flaring furiously.

“Careful, Raina. Someone might mistake you for actually caring.”

“He is the escort that’s been approved. You could’ve hired an assassin for all you know.”

“Perhaps I did it on purpose.”

“Threatening royalty is a crime, you know.”

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“I like to live on the edge.”

She blew out an annoyed breath. “You know none of those airheads can see past what you look like, right? They see nothing of the arrogant prick you actually are.”

“And I certainly intend to keep them away from your deluded misconceptions about me, sister. You shall ensure that I am never wedded.”

She burst out laughing. “You. Married? Please.”

“You have no idea how many women would be pleased to fill that position,” I informed her.

“You would never sit still long enough to get through the ceremony, brother.” She walked towards me, long red skirts swirling about. She laid her arms across my shoulders and resting her head on her hands, gazing at herself in the mirror.

I swatted at her. “You’re creasing the suit, Raina.”

“Oh heaven forbid the great Prince Crius has a suit with a microscopic crease within it,” she said, dramatically, ruffling up my hair, with a wicked grin.

I grabbed her wrist, pushing her away. “Behave, Raina.”

She twisted out of my grip, golden eyes flashing red, giving light to her own curse. “You don’t know me at all, do you? I never behave.” She put her hands on her hips, golden cuffs glistening. “This is a horrid ritual and you know it.”

“Oh Rai, you’ve just never understood the true passion behind these shows.”

“You’re dying purposefully in front of an audience of your own people! Does it not alarm you that this is a form of entertainment?”

“I’m immortal, Raina. I have nothing to fear,” I announced, spreading my arms.

“You’re cursed, Crius. There’s a difference.”

“As are you, sister. The only curse I bear is the curse of handsomeness alone. Now, pass me my crown.”

“Get it yourself,” she grumped. “I’m not helping you prepare for this.”

I rolled my eyes, picking it up from atop the trunk. She gravitated towards the mirror, running her hands down the length of her dress. It was beautiful, with halter detail that encircled her neck, falling into delicate red silk. She pushed back a strand of hair that made it into her face, smiling slightly.

I pushed her out of the way. “Preen for the guard later, Raina. I have an event to prepare for.

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She glared at me. “Enough.”

I placed the crown on my head, smiling at myself. The tailored black suit was perfectly formed to my body, red decal stark against the dark fabric. The winding markings that spread across my back peeked out around my neck, reminding everyone of who I was. The dark crown with ruby gems shimmered atop my dark hair.

“You really should let him go,” I told her. “It’s not proper.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied.

“You didn’t really think I wouldn’t find out about your little midnight strolls, did you sister? You underestimate my reach.”

She blushed, avoiding my gaze. “Uncle won’t be happy that you’re doing this stunt again,” she continued, examining her nails and trying to change the subject.

I glanced at her, through the looking glass. Our likeness was undeniable with the same dark hair and warm skin. It was only our eyes that truly set us apart. Her’s were soft gold where mine were stained an icy grey.

Raina was as beautiful as I was handsome, catching the eye of many a suitor. Being crowned Princess was merely a bonus former. Not that it mattered much with the guard around.

I could still remember her as a child, playing around with my shadows and tugging at the bottoms of my trousers.

“Come now,” I told her. “Show’s about to start.” I gave my reflection a quick wink and then headed out the door.

She followed me, heaving a frustrated breath.

We made our way through the palace, all the inhabitants giving us a wide berth. I couldn’t remember a time where people hadn’t been afraid of what I could do. Being cursed had its perks.

“Crius,” she said, kicking my shoe.

“Raina,” I said, kicking her back.

“Don’t do it.”

“Rai,” I started.

“No! I have a bad feeling this time, Cri. Trust me, please.”

I couldn’t look at her. I would lose my composure. I simply shook my head. “You are not obliged to watch, Raina.”

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“Yes, actually, I am. And you know that,” she argued. “Come on, Crius. You stand on a pedestal and jump off, saving yourself at the last second. Everyone’s seen it before. Why do it again? It’s actually getting rather dull.”

“Rai, leave me alone.”

She crossed her arms, stalking in front of me. Evren appeared around the corner, eyes catching on her. “Princess,” he greeted her. “You look lovely.”

I cleared my throat and Evren noticed me, flushing immediately. “Prince Crius,” he said, dropping into a salute.

I let him remain there for a few moments until Raina glared at me. “At ease,” I said, reluctantly.

“Shall we?” Raina asked him, turning away from me.

“Not so fast,” I said. “I think we ought to revisit you roles here.”

“I think not.”

“I assure you, your highness, my role is very well performed,” Evren said.

“Over-performed, perhaps,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Go do your little show, Crius and leave him be,” Raina said.

“It’s alright, Princess,” he assured her.

“Mind your manners, Rai,” I instructed.

She flipped me off. “Let’s go, Captain. I don’t wanna be late to this spectacle,” she grumbled.

“I don’t think it will be the most unpleasant,” he assured her, brushing her arm slightly.

Despite herself, a blush stained her cheeks. “Perhaps not,” she said, quietly.

“Your role, Captain, is to get her to her position safely. Nothing more,” I said, firmly.

“Of course, you highness,” he said, angling his head, but I could see the defiance sparkling in his eyes.

“Princess,” he said, offering his arm.

She took it, gazing into his stark blue eyes.

I watched them disappear around the corner. It was an issue I would have to deal with later.

I shook my head to clear it and then headed to the pedestal on my own. I needed complete concentration. I fell into a familiar state of release and before I knew it I’d reached the double-doors that would lead me to my demise.

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I threw them open, stalking out onto the pedestal. The wind tugged at my clothes and tousled my hair. And before I knew it, I was bared before my people. My eyes found Raina’s, where she was standing in the box reserved for royalty. Her hands were gripping the bar at the edge. Evren stood beside her, their hands only inches apart.

I tore my gaze away. They became a blur before me. All that mattered was the jump and my curse.

I flexed my neck, feeling the tattoo start to burn. The pain was invigorating. We were live. I toed the edge of the pedestal, glancing over the edge to the endless abyss below. I let a smile creep over my face as I let my weight unbalance and tip forward.

The wind buffeted my face and I felt no panic as the darkness rushed towards me. I closed my eyes tugging into myself to awaken the curse. I waited for the burst of wings at my back. None came.

My eyes flew open in panic and I only had time to remember my sister’s plea before it all collided.

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WRITERS Bianca Sugunasiri Storm Voloshina ARTISTS Bianca Sugunasiri Cassandra Olivier Kayla Shafai Stella Fisher EDITOR Bianca Sugunasiri DESIGN COMMITTEE Bianca Sugunasiri Emma Farquhar Stella Fisher Storm Voloshina IMMORTAL FOUNDERS Megan Sweeney Safa Siddiqui

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PAST EDITORS Abigail Butler Hannah Gerring Sophia Swettenham Linnea Dalvi Madeleine Klebanoff O’Brien Zaina Khan