death, won’t you row me right over to shore ? tell me ‘bout the ones who were here before.
asher munro & diya fedorov al-kattani of marrow, associated with itshoco, written by nan.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
art blog(derogatory)
d e v o n
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

oozey mess
hello vonnie

No title available
No title available
styofa doing anything
Misplaced Lens Cap

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
No title available
NASA
Cosimo Galluzzi
noise dept.

if i look back, i am lost
Game of Thrones Daily

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Singapore

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Singapore

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Chile

seen from Türkiye
@emptygr4ves
death, won’t you row me right over to shore ? tell me ‘bout the ones who were here before.
asher munro & diya fedorov al-kattani of marrow, associated with itshoco, written by nan.
open starter for all marrow inhabitants … !
day whatever of living in some sort of upside down world: the dead still walk in marrow. diya’s not sure how the others feel – they aren’t really allowed to talk about it. any talk, however obscured, gets hushed. no one is quite sure when, or if, this might break. or end. or go horribly, horribly wrong.
so anyway, diya’s just finished serving pancakes to someone who was dead just a few months ago, so she supposes that is just what life will be like for the time being. she takes a seat at a table, sighing, and presses her palms to her eyes. maybe if she presses hard enough, when she can erase the memories – enjoy her siblings’ presence without remembering their absence. it doesn’t work. the bell on the door ring and she sighs. “ sorry, i’ll be with you in one moment. ”
casper's socked feet pad against the tile of the kitchen floor as he mills about. an uncharacteristic silence floats through the house, a tell tale sign either the other occupants were out or hiding in their own rooms. the ladder exactly where casper could be found until that moment. having come to a pausing point in his newest baldur's gate save, he'd thought to venture out of his cave to see if any of his roommates were out. not that he was looking for anyone in particular, totally not. his goaless meandering broken by the knock on the door and the muffled, but discernible, words that followed. he's quick slipping on his sneakers and reaching for his nearby work bag ( where one of his many work laptops resided ). " i'm coming … " he huffs joining the other on the porch shuffling his bag onto his back. casper wasn't opposed to asher's company, something that couldn't be said about more than a handful of marrow natives. for whatever reason a fondness for them seemed to be growing in the recent weeks. it wasn't something he was to think too deeply about. " are you working ? "
asher turns to walk to the library was soon as they hear the telltale shuffling on the other side of the door. they never asked much of casper by way of talking – that was a perk of working in a library. they were both under zero obligation to fill any silence. it’s an easy in to casper’s life, to offer a space where he can work quietly, efficiently, but still be in the presence of … other human beings.
they stop and turn just long enough to give casper a teasing grin. “ no, i asked you to come to the library so i could drop you off and go drink tea at home – yes, casper, i’m working. ” asher continues down the sidewalk, not needing to turn back to ensure their friend is following. “ i had a feeling you needed a reason to leave your room. ”
if she was being smart, on her usual p's and q's, the sensation of eyes categorizing each feature on her skin would put her on alert. she's learned from a young age how to read situations, people, places. but she's also learned how to drop that when she's around her siblings. her mind, and body, recognize that she's safe around them so there is no need to question the expressions on her sisters face or her body language at the moment. still, there is a pause at the melancholic way her sister forms her name. head slowly raising to meet the others eyes, “ a movie? i guess we could, but are you going to get annoyed when i make my commentary? ‘cause if you are, we’re better off finishing this puzzle. ”
normally she would whine; not whining is not acting like nothing has changed. but how can diya whine when only a few weeks ago, she found herself watching a movie and holding her breath for aisha’s commentary ? she’d waited, waited, waited through all 114 minutes of the movie for her sister’s voice, as if it was some sort of seance ritual. how can she whine when the voice never came ? the credits rolled and the voice never came. how can she whine when all she’d wanted then was to have another chance to listen to aisha to blab her way through a movie ?
the most she can muster up is a roll of her eyes, fond. “ i guess. i just need something to do where i can turn my brain off – and this puzzle ? all brain. ”
Maki didn't have a habit of looking back. Reminiscing, she thought, was a waste of time. She kept tapping her long, manicured nails against the tabletop and asking what's next? But small towns, comfortable as they were, left so many doors open, kept turning her head back no matter how much she tried looking forward. Asher caught her by the chin and yanked her attention back. Always back, with this town. Not even the mourning lasted.
She took a breath, then turned around with a smile, skirt billowing around her above the knees. “Asher,” she acknowledged. “Ash,” she tried. “Ashes.” It was a good thing nobody chose to get cremated in this town. “Mmmm, nope. Not a good name for nicknames,” she decided, glossing over the ashes. “Oh, it's fine, it's not like I was looking for you then anyway.” And the church, it was beginning to unsettle her a bit. She imagined all the dead sitting in the pews, pale and glassy-eyed and different, and shivered.
She looked askance at Asher, head titled slightly, and then smiled wide enough that her cheeks strained with the effort. “Sweet of you to ask. Were you always sweet? Guess you must've been, huh. How are you?”
they recognize it, of course, the way she talks through discomfort – the effort in her smiling, pulling her cheeks up in a way not quite genuine, the way she talks just enough to fill the silence but isn’t really saying anything. the insecurity finds a foothold, begins to climb its way to the front of asher’s mind. was their relationship really so strained ? it had changed, certainly, but maki didn’t hate them… did she ? a laundry list unfolds, the words how to get back on maki matsui’s good side scribbled atop. step one, out of necessity: figure out what maki matsui is upset about.
“ i’m… fine. ” they tilt their head curiously. they omit the cold they are likely coming down with – the sensitivity to the light, the nauseating and unabating hunger in their stomach – none of it sounds particularly productive for amends making. “ you didn’t answer, though. i’m more curious about you. how are you ? ”
closed starter for aisha fedorov al-kattani @conclaive … !
when she looks at her sister, she sees a star – really, when she looks at all of her siblings, that is what she sees. stars, guiding lights. diya once heard that most of the stars visible on earth are already dead, so far away that their final blaze is still crossing the galaxy to light the night sky. she looks at aisha and sees that plainly: a star that’s already dead, still shining in her eyes.
“ aisha, ” she says, a bit too close to sounding mournful. how do you talk to someone who is already dead ? “ do you want to watch a movie ? i’m bored. ”
closed starter for maki matsui @unsaccharine
asher’s not sure – has maybe never been sure – how to handle maki matsui. she’s older than him, but somehow in comparison to her older sister miwa ( may she rest in peace ), they have always thought maki seemed so young. maybe it’s her delicate aesthetics or maybe it’s the way miwa always seemed so much … more, nearly mythical in marrow – asher liked her plenty, but asher recognizes a kind of his own anxieties in maki. antsy, maybe even desperate, to be seen appreciated loved. they tried to give her that once, offered her a hand to hold – they still aren’t quite sure where it went wrong.
“ maki. ” they say, just loud enough to catch maki’s ear. “ sorry i didn't catch you at the potluck – how are you ? ”
closed starter for casper nam @friendlyghst … !
casper nam has always been somewhat of an character; withdrawn, but certainly not antisocial, one of the busiest people in marrow and always a little disheveled. asher likes him – enjoys talking to someone somehow so different, yet not different at all from themself. asher finds himself seeking casper out, drawn to him by something they aren’t sure they have a name for. however, their friend can be hard to find out and about in marrow, so instead they find themselves knocking at their door. “ casper ! ” they call out. “ come work at the library today ! ”
open to: anyone! location: 6:45 PM, sanctuary church
poppy didn't wear black for once- instead she wore yellow. a flowing sundress, adorned with flowers and lace, one that her mother had told her complimented the golden hues in her irises. she spritzed a gourmand perfume to hide the stench of the funeral home, the sadness that embedded itself into her pores and hair. she smiled, laughing along with church ladies that her mother used to work with, nodded along sadly regarding platitudes about her father and grandfather, until she found herself standing alone. poppy took in the scene before her, sighing wistfully as she looked to the figure on her right. “you know, i was told that the macaroni and cheese i brought was better than my mom's. do you agree?”
diya considers this – but not before taking a moment to consider how absurd it is that, despite being surrounded by ghosts or corpses or whatever they were, poppy was choosing to compare mac and cheese recipes. “ it is pretty good, ” is how she chooses to answer. poppy's perfume permeates the air, decadence undercut by something distinctly too clean. a morbid memory hits her; formaldehyde, the same thing her brother smelled of the day he was buried. the same thing she can only imagine her sister smelled of the day she was buried, too. “ um, ” diya fumbles through the shiver flitting down her spine. “ but honestly, i'm not sure i could tell you the difference. ”
did you see NADIYA ‘ DIYA ’ FEDOROV AL-KATTANI walking around BEARPAW DINER ? i heard that the 23 year old has been particularly TACITURN since the loss began, which is a shift from their usual show of CONVIVIAL.
♱ — sanctuary church @ 6:30pm ♱ — open to anyone
♱ there's a feeling within camille that she can't quite place. something empty and dull, aching and unexplainable. she's been feeling it for weeks, slowly then all at once, like a rising flood crashing down like a tsunami. it's a lot to bear, especially when the there's a throbbing in her skull that won't go away, unhelped by all the mingling voices that surround her. and as the sun continues to shine over the churchyard, the pain becomes close to unbearable, like a band stretched over her skull and pulled taut. she rises from her seat and finds herself off to the side of the church, where the trees provide much needed shade that help quell the erratic pain in her head. hand pressed against the rough stone wall, it's then that camille realizes she's not alone when she looks up and finds company already there. “ sorry, i didn't — ” she mutters, suddenly embarrassed over what she believed would be a private breakdown. “ i can leave … if you want. ”
the feeling of otherness – not wholly unfamiliar, stuck in a body that has never felt quite right – but distinctly new. growing up in marrow meant that despite what ever turmoil asher felt inside, there has always been a place on the outside that felt safe. so what do you do when your safety net feels like it’s dropped out from under you ? if you’re asher munro, you make yourself busy. a potluck at the church feels like the perfect opportunity to forge a new place in marrow, since his old one seems to have vanished overnight; to weave a new safety net under themselves by hand, connection by connection, placation by placation. they’ve just finished readying themselves ( a few deep breaths, a couple prayers, a shaking hand clasped over the crucifix necklace hanging over his heart, and a swallowed advil to ease the ache the sunlight is causing behind his eyes ) hidden away from the main event when camille appears, looking decidedly unsteady. “ huh ? oh, no ! i was just leaving – but – are you okay, camille ? ”
marrow's own ASHER MUNRO, age 24, passed away on FEBRUARY 14TH. loved ones report that they were extremely COMPASSIONATE and express discontent with rumors that describe them as SPINELESS. according to town gossip, their death was due to ASTHMA ATTACK — which is strange, because i could have sworn that i saw them at SANCTUARY CHURCH last night.