KIROKAZE
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

if i look back, i am lost
ojovivo
AnasAbdin

Andulka

tannertan36
No title available
One Nice Bug Per Day
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
art blog(derogatory)

Janaina Medeiros
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor

shark vs the universe
No title available

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
todays bird
almost home
occasionally subtle
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from Burkina Faso

seen from Bangladesh

seen from United States
seen from Indonesia

seen from China
seen from Brazil

seen from United Arab Emirates

seen from Chile

seen from India
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Bulgaria
@frgdsecrts
RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE (2023) dir. Matthew López
Seconds, minutes, hours… Emiliano had lost track of how long he’d been sitting in his enchanted tub. It was usually reserved for Suresh, and only Suresh. But tonight, Emiliano found himself being selfish. He hadn’t told the naga of his return, though truth be told, Em felt as if Suresh knew anyway. And as he sat here, staring at the ceiling, feeling utterly pathetic and low, the sting of guilt hit him. He should've returned to Suresh's side the moment he stepped foot in New Orleans again. Not here.
The water had long since cooled, the faint shimmer of magic fading to a dull glow around the edges. He dragged a hand through it anyway, watching the ripples move sluggishly outward, like they, too, were tired of pretending to be alive. The silence pressed against him, thick and heavy. He should've never left. He should've let Suresh come with him. Had he done that then maybe.....things would've turned out differently for him. But now...it was lost, Em was lost. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes, willing himself to feel anything other than the hollow ache sitting behind his ribs. For a fleeting moment, he almost imagined another voice beside him—soft, warm, and familiar. Or perhaps it was not his imagination at all.
"You know," he kept his eyes closed as he spoke, in his usual calm tone, "I was coming to see you the moment I got out of the tub. The problem is...I never got out of the tub." It was a small attempt at trying to lighten the weight that hung in the air. "But, it seems, you have found me. Am I that predictable?" @naga-raja-suresh
He'd decided to use the festivities to try and relax, once again drawn to a piano and a local band that required his particular talents - Maddox was even being so bold as to occasionally sing along, voice deep and velvety yet un-practiced. The end of every small set was followed by the undead deciding to wander, finding somewhere else to park himself to enjoy the rich pool of talent on offer.
It's at one of these bands that he pauses to stop and listen, noting other people are already losing themselves in the rhythm, dancing to the beat that feels intoxicating. Jazz is catching, it seems, and everyone is suffering from the infection.
Perhaps it's because he's so engrossed or, simply, because the bond they share hasn't been used since Ric went away that Maddox doesn't immediately recognize his witches signature the moment he steps close. The offer to dance from a stranger is one the undead wouldn't usually take up, glancing back and - oh. That warm smile, those pretty lashes fanning around dark eyes. It hits him then, how he missed the other.
"With you? Always," The fondness in his voice isn't hidden, nor is it from his face.
Ricardo’s dark eyes soften, the warmth in them deepening as Maddox’s voice washes over him, that fond, velvety tone striking a chord in his chest. The music swirls around them, a brassy, soulful melody that pulses through the humid New Orleans air, but it’s Maddox—his Maddox—who holds every ounce of his attention. The months apart, the distance, the reflection, all of it fades in this moment, leaving only the man before him, his precious treasure, his beloved undead. Ricardo’s heart, alive with the magic coursing through him, beats for this reunion, every transformation he’s had to face, worth it.
He steps closer, the crowd’s chaos dimming as his world narrows to Maddox. With a gentle, reverent touch, Ricardo slides one arm around Maddox’s waist, his hand settling against the small of his back, firm yet tender, like he’s anchoring himself to the one constant in his life. His other hand finds Maddox’s, fingers intertwining with a quiet devotion, as if letting go isn’t even a possibility. Because it is not, not even if Maddox wished it himself, there was no universe in which Ricardo was ever letting the undead go. He guides them into the rhythm, their bodies swaying to the infectious jazz, the beat syncing with the bond that tethered them.
“You look as beautiful as you did the first night you came to me,” Ricardo murmurs, his voice low and thick with emotion, a smile curving his lips as he gazes into Maddox’s eyes. “You are different now, but in a good way.” His thumb brushes softly against Maddox’s hand, a silent vow of his unwavering love for him. As they move together, lost in the music and each other, he leans in just enough for his breath to graze Maddox’s ear, whispering, “I have missed you.”
Who: Emiliano @frgdsecrts
Where: A famous Jazz club
Suresh sat at his private table, a drink in front of him. He glanced over at Em and reaching out placed a hand over the other man's. A gentle squeeze to bring his Advisor, friend and now more back to the world. "You were drifting." Suresh said with a gentle ease. No judgement, nothing beyond Suresh noticing Em's emotional state. The club was full of jazz and revelers. Suresh was quietly enjoying the taste of so many desires around him. But all of his focused attention was for Em. He had dragged Em out. All with the best of intentions but he knew left to his own devices the shifter would not have chosen to be sitting in the middle of so much excitement.
Emiliano’s sat untouched, condensation dripping from the sides, his mind too preoccupied with disassociating to care for much else at the moment. Except….Suresh. The gentle hand pulled the shifter back from his thoughts, from the dark places of his mind that tormented him, and he was thankful for that. He hated how easy it was for his mind to be distracted as of late, hated how he felt next to useless beside Suresh at the moment, still he carried on. For the naga next to him, his good friend, his boss, his very purpose to breathe (right next to his children). “Apologies,” his voice low, but the word held weight. The tips of fingers lift up to brush against Suresh’s, offering an apologetic squeeze, before he gave him a gentle smile. He had no reason to be bothered with Emiliano’s messy divorce, nor did he need to worry about what has occurred with his children, not right now. Right now they were supposed to be enjoying….”A jazz festival,” Em says again, gazing out to the crowd, “….I am enjoying myself, despite what my appearance might give off. Are you?” He paused, because he needed more reassurance now since everything, “Are you happy with me here?”
Location: Jazz Festival Open
The festival was one of Mathias' favorite events in the year. Having spent most of his life in New Orleans, he grew to appreciate and enjoy jazz a lot. Sebastian had even taught him how to play some instruments, as the former leader was very into making music. Mathias always made sure to clear out his schedule for the festival, as he wanted to spend the day there.
He was sitting and listening to one of the street bands play. His foot was bouncing to the rhythm as more of a crowd formed. There was the sound of a chair moving next to him, which caused the necromancer to turn away from the band.
"Looking to sit?" He asked
"I am." Ricardo replied, voice firm but gentle. He gripped the back of the chair as he made his way around to sit down, offering Mathias a small smile. The last the two had been around each other was not the best of times for either of them. They had been more at each other's throats than the best friends they had always been and always would be. But now, now Ricardo felt nothing short of peace when it came to Mathias. For he had helped him find that, even if it had taken a bit of time.
He listened to the bands playing for a moment, softly humming along, happily moving his head a little side to side with the music. "I have discovered that I am growing fonder by jazz as the days go by, it really is such a fascinating sound." So full of life, vibrant and energetic.
"Have you had a chance to try any of the food while you listen to the music? It all smells so delicious, but I can't seem decide what to get." He glanced to Mathias, "I could use a bit of guidance, if you have any suggestions."
For: Open Location: The Jazz Festival
The air on Frenchmen Street hums with the soul of New Orleans, alive with the wail of saxophones, the thump of drugs, and trumpets spilling from every corner. The annual Jazz Festival is in full swing, and the streets are pulsing with excitement. Ricardo moves through the chaos with a predator's grace, his dark eyes scanning the scene. It's his first night out since returning to New Orleans two days ago, after some time away. Time that had been spent reflecting, understanding, accepting, growing, and adapting. It had taken a lot for him to accept this new chance of life Mathias had given him and to wrap his mind around the idea of everything that he was expected to accept. But once he finally saw it, the beauty in the power given to him by his best friend, Ricardo grew stronger by the day. Mentally, spiritually, and physically.
His boots click softly against the uneven pavement as he navigates the crowded street, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he catches bits of conversation and laughter. It's almost like he was reborn, and in a way that was exactly it, now he was exploring a world he's never known before. He pauses to listen to one of the many bands around him, letting the music sink into him, its rhythm almost syncing with the pulse of the magic that ran through his veins. It was fun. This entire thing. His head tilts a little to the side as he continued to watch the musicians perform, a single idea popping into his head, "Would you care to dance?" He asked, casually glancing to his side, offering a warm smile.
the fireplace crackled as ricardo sat on the floor, watching the dancing flames, letting his adrenaline slowly begin to drain from his body. he was sore, tired, and uncomfortable from having just gone through what they did against mathias. it did let him release some tension that had built up with his best friend but it didn’t make him feel any better. if anything, he was infuriated with having to watch his close friends fight against his best friend. he didn’t see the need for it, but he trusted mathias knew what he was doing.
he sighed, looking over to the weretiger, studying the other man for a moment. he can’t remember the last time they were together, as bad as that sounded, besides the usual bodyguard and boss duties. did things fizzle out? maybe he had pushed kazimir away with everything he had done, the mardi gras incident, scolding him and maddox, ricardo couldn’t really blame kazimir for being distant. if that’s even what he was doing, his mind was also slowly coming back from the dark place it had been at for gods know how long.
“hey,” he breaks the silence, voice soft and cautious, “how are you feeling?” ricardo wanted to reach out to touch the other, pull them in, to do something to let him know that he was still here for him other than just a person kazimir needed to protect. but he didn’t, he chose to let the weretiger move at his pace and do the reaching if he wanted.
@kazimir-voronovitch
He wouldn't say they were getting on, more like drink had relaxed Maddox to a large degree and allowed him, for the first time in perhaps...ever to tolerate the weretiger in a social setting. To be even friendly...it had made the undead wonder that maybe he was the problem. He really did need to loosen up. It had felt nice to not be mad, or irritated, for the first time in a very long time. Maybe a drink every now and again would be good for Maddox. "Please do. I feel quite good. Looser, you know?"
The hand that had once been in his hair slipped down to his jaw, then the nape of his neck, fingers slipping into where the shorter baby hairs met skin and it felt good, comforting almost. The undead tried to lean back into it, chasing how warm it made him feel. Had somebody else made him feel this way, once? Contended, peaceful, even? It blossomed at the quick press of lips against his forehead, an acceptance of the offer.
Ric's company was like a soothing balm, covering up Maddox's socializing flaws. It was more than that, the undead had come to realize how much the witch's company meant to him, his encouragement, his soft smile, a quiet craving for it formed when he wasn't around.
His confession sent Maddox's dark eyes wide, exhaling softly from the weight of them. Restraint was gone, thanks to the whiskey, the worries and self-imposed rules vanished with the click of a finger, quietened and easy to ignore. "Come here," voice no louder than a whisper, not wanting to break the spell, gently tugging at Ric's arm to pull him to his level.
"Come here," again. "Tell me about your evening,"
The necromancer’s usual warmth, that quiet glow of kindness he carried like a lantern, flared brighter in the dim light of their shared moment. Ric adored Maddox—had for longer than he’d ever dared admit—and the way the undead leaned into his touch, chasing the comfort of his fingers at the nape of his neck, sent a quiet thrill through him. It felt like he was holding the world's most precious treasure, and he just wanted to hold onto Maddox forever. He was selfish, incredibly so, when it came to his undead companion.
He let himself be pulled closer. Ric's smile was soft, almost shy, but it carried the weight of his affection, unguarded and earnest. He tilted his head, studying the undead with a gentle intensity, like he was memorizing every detail of this moment—the way Maddox’s eyes widened at his confession, the rare vulnerability that made Ricardo's chest ache with fondness. “My evening?"
Honestly, it was all blurry now. He couldn't really make out anything that stood out enough to bring up in this moment, couldn't think of anything that wasn't Maddox. "The evening has been… good,” Ric murmured, his voice low and warm, matching Maddox’s whisper as if they were sharing a secret meant only for each other.
“You know, I never thought I’d get you like this, all loose and… open. It’s nice, Maddox." He leaned in, his lips brushing against Maddox's as he whispered, "Really nice."
There were only a few moments of hesitation there, dark eyes tracing Ric's every move in the low light but, the small worries were soon drowned in the sea of whiskey that currently made up so much of the undead's courage. The empty side is patted encouragingly, and Maddox settles easily into the previously occupied space that's still warm from the witches body heat, mattress dipped a little from where Ric always lays. It's like being enveloped completely, a hand so readily coming to comb through sweaty and messy locks, both affectionate and comforting in its rhythm.
"I had a good time," He confirms with a nod, slipping down a little under the covers, just enough to make him have to look up at Ric. It's a good angle, he thinks, able to make out those dark, thick eyelashes that fan kindly eyes. "I am...tipsy. I tried to keep up with Kaz but...bad idea,"
As if to drive home the point, he hiccups, then laughs softly. "A break? From you? No. I do miss you, when you're not glued to me," Maddox confirms with a confidence and honesty rarely shown. Reaching over, he lets his fingers trace idle tracks against the bare skin of his witches arm, going in circles.
"You should come next time I play at the bar. I'd like to see you in the crowd,"
Ric leaned back against the headboard, his dark eyes softening as they followed Maddox's every move, the faint glow of the light in the room casting shadows across his sharp features. There was a faint smell of whiskey and the lingering scent of Maddox's cologne, a mix that felt like home. He let out a low chuckle, hi lips curling into a fond, lopsided grin as Maddox settled into the warm spot he'd left on the bed. The way the mattress dipped under them both, pulling them closer, felt like gravity doing him a favor.
"Tipsy, hm? Trying to keep up with Kaz is a death wish, even for you," Ricardo teased, his voice warm and gentle. "I'm glad you had fun, and I'm glad you and Kaz seem to be getting along better." It's what they needed, the Deathrunners, to keep everyone on their side as united as possible. They could come out on top with no one suspecting it, if they worked together. His hand lowered to trace against Maddox's jaw, lingering there as he took in the sight of him with his messy hair, those eyes that always looked at him as if he was the only thing in the room. "You're cute when you're hiccupping, you know. I might have to get you drunk more often." He teased, lightly and softly.
Maddox's confession hit him like a soft punch, and Ric's grin faltered, just for a second, replaced by something warmer, deeper. "You missed me?" he murmured, leaning in a little, his hand sliding from Maddox's jaw to the back of his neck, fingers tangling gently in his hair. "Good. Because I have no plans on going anywhere and even less of letting you separate from me for too long." His thumb traced a slow arc along Maddox's nape, the touch steady, grounding, like he was anchoring them both in this moment.
When Maddox's fingers graze his arm, drawing lazy circles on his skin, Ric felt the familiar shiver chase down his spine. All he ever wanted was to support Maddox in every way he could, and truthfully, it felt nice to have the undead extend the invitation. He leaned down, pressing a quick, warm kiss to Maddox's forehead. "Just tell me when, I'll be there. I'll make sure to cheer louder than anyone in that room." He paused, "I wish you would sleep beside me more often."
Taylor Zakhar Perez & Dakota, lol
Open: To Deathrunner members Location: HQ
The fundraiser had gone well with no issue, which was something Mathias really liked. It felt good to not have any drama or issues for once. Also, it seemed most were mostly healed up from Mardi Gras, so it meant he could focus on bringing the gang together again. They needed to be a united front and that started internally. He took a day to create a fight pit outside of the church, complete with chairs because Mathias wanted this to be witnessed. He needed every member of the gang to know how strong they were and to put it on display. He also wanted to have an idea of the strengths of his inner circle.
He alerted them all, telling them to meet him at the church and be prepared to fight. He got a few eager responses and a few hesitant. That was to be expected and Mathias still wanted them there. He sat in the shade of the church as other members filled the crudely made stands. He was wearing clothes that went against his usual style. A tank top and shorts that showed more of the rot on his body. He was wrapping his hand when the first participant showed up and he smiled. "It's about time, I thought you were gonna chicken out on me".
Ricardo approached the makeshift fight pit, his boots crunching on the dry earth, a faint scowl tugging at his lips. by this point there was no use in hiding that he was the least one thrilled with anything happening, especially being summoned for what he was being the tension between the two best friends was evident. He hadn’t been thrilled about Mathias’s call to arms, fighting for show wasn’t his style, but he’d come anyway, because Mathias asked, and that bond ran deeper than his reservations. Ricardo’s eyes flicked to Mathias, catching the rare sight of his best friend in clothes typically not worn outside of the comfort of his home, the decay on display. That easy grin from Mathias loosened something in Ricardo’s chest, though his expression stayed guarded.
“Chicken out?” Ricardo snorted, stopping a few feet from Mathias, arms crossed. “Never. Just didn’t feel like rushing to get my ass kicked in front of an audience.” His tone was dry, but a faint smirk betrayed his affection. He glanced at the pit, then back to Mathias, eyes narrowing slightly. “I guess it makes no difference to tell you how much I really do not wish to do this.” Despite the grumble, he stepped closer, ready to play along, for Mathias, for the gang, for whatever this was meant to prove.
@frgdsecrts ft. Ric
Location: Ric's house, post fundraiser, night-time.
He didn't expect to be out all day, then subsequently all night but, the company had been good and alcohol flowing and Maddox had found himself more relaxed than he'd been in a very long time. The undead only half-tripped over the threshold, remembering at least to lock the door behind him and be quiet as he made his way through the familiar house, a singular thought on his mind. Or rather, person, the alcohol that warmed a walking corpse making him feel odd. Fuzzy, almost, around the edges, as he walked, the lines between what was and what had been blurring within a confused memory. The figure curled up in bed was a different shape to the one that haunted his brain, the room not as cold, sheets softer and skin warmer. "Ric," Maddox's voice quiet, knees hitting the edge of the bed. There was truly only one thing he craved tonight - the company of another, to chase the lonely away that came from the mad scramble to remember, that bloomed and blossomed from whiskey and the hollow left by good times. "Can I stay here, tonight?" This room, specifically, not the one down the hall he occasionally occupied.
Ricardo stirred, the soft rasp of Maddox’s voice pulling him from the edges of sleep. He blinked into the dim room, the shape of Maddox looming at the bed’s edge, his presence heavy with something raw, unguarded. The question hung in the air, quiet but weighted, and Ricardo’s chest tightened at the vulnerability in it. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep, shifting to make space without a second thought.
“C’mere.” He propped himself up slightly, studying Maddox’s silhouette, the way he seemed to waver, like he was caught between worlds. Ricardo didn’t need to ask what was chasing him tonight; the undead carried ghosts heavier than most. He patted the bed, his tone softening. “You know that I always want you here with me, Maddox.”
A sting of guilt creeps up on Ricardo as he looked at Maddox. He felt like maybe he should’ve made more effort to spend time with the undead and together they could’ve made the journey back home. But admittedly, Ricardo has been trying to give the other man his space. He felt like he deserved a chance to breathe away from from, though if left up to the necromancer, he would never separate from the man.
He waits for Maddox to settle himself in the bed, sitting up so his back was resting against the headboard. The moment he could he begins to gently comb his fingers through Maddox’s hair, hoping to help soothe the undead in some way or another. “It seems you had a good time,” Ric comments, voice soft, “I’m happy. I meant to come find you, but..I figured you could use a break from me.” He gently teased, softly chuckling.
She hadn't avoided him on purpose - it was just their paths had never crossed. Her darling fledgling didn't need her like he did now. That...and Agathe did like to twist a knife, to bide her time, to watch from afar and choose the single moment for maximum drama and devastation. Call it old age, needing everything to be exciting and fascinating lest the soul-crushing banality that immortality carried set in. Agathe had seen much older vampires than her lose themselves to a madness only those that lived forever could succumb to, and was determined to never suffer like that.
He takes her hand, he's lost track of his feeds. Agathe tuts softly, her free one coming to completely cover Levi's and gently pet the back of it, flicking so quickly between concern and a perpetual state of non-botheredness that it's hard to keep track on what is real. Agathe's masks are plentiful and permanently stuck to her skin, after all, at this point more her than whatever originally lay beneath them all.
"My poor Levi," Agathe maybe could've been tempted to push him, to make him so ravenous for blood that he would easily set upon a crowd of people with little regard for who they were. His savageness had always sung to her, the two of them perfectly matched in it. Maybe it was an idea for later, when she'd got him so perfectly wrapped around her finger he wouldn't dream of saying no.
"Of course. Like old times, yes?"
her disapproval did not go unnoticed and again levi finds himself wondering if he's disappointed her. but hearing her call him hers makes him chew the inside of his lip, as if trying to hold something back. he looked at her for a moment before ultimately deciding that she needed to know. she needed to be aware of how things were going to be between the two of them now, that he wouldn't be won back so easily. she had a pull on him, always would, but levi was still angry at her. what he was going to say wasn't because he wanted to hurt her, he doubted he had that ability, it was simply levi trying to be honest. and she would find out soon or later, it might as well be from him.
"i would love nothing more than to have your company tonight in my hunt, and perhaps afterwards we can enjoy a nightcap somewhere. we can talk." they had a lot to talk about, after all. "but i need you to know that...i am not your levi anymore. i can't be your levi, not like before, not again." he had hoped that when this day came it would've been with leto as his husband, not his ex-boyfriend, but such was his luck. "i've met someone." he shrugs, "things may be a bit shitty with them right now, but it doesn't make me any less theirs."
he waits for a moment, letting that hang in the air. “if you’re upset…please don’t be. you left me, didn’t you? you should be thrilled that i am now someone else’s problem.” levi sighed, “sort of. regardless, my point stands.” a couple walks by them and levi watches them for a moment. he turned to agathe, “can i?”
for: jude ( @undead-jude ) location: walking around, checking out booths
Ricardo was roaming the streets in a pleasant mood. He was both a little high on weed but also trying to be careful not to let his internal struggles get the better of him right now. The last thing he wanted was his magic to go off the charts around a crowd, especially since Mardi Gras. But a walk around to look at a couple of booths? How could that trigger anything? Ric felt it was safe, and he knew Kazimir was not far from him. Maddox? He sensed the undead was at ease somewhere and that made him happy.
He spots Jude in the distance and pauses in his steps. Where there was Jude, Ricardo felt Mathias was not far behind. He was not sure he was ready to see Mathias yet, as much as it hurt him to admit this to himself, so he lingered for a moment just watching the vampire. He carefully scanned around them, only approaching Jude when he was certain Mathias was not going to slip up next to them. "Hello, Jude. How are you today? Mind if I join you for a moment?"
Seeing Levi—it doesn't tug at his heartstrings, it yanks them hard. Now 16 years later and he still feels like he had the first night he'd met them. Though now, that perfect picture has been stained with the sins of his father and Leto feels underserving of even being in the vampire's presence now. This man is the love of his life and just when he could finally accept that they hadn't wasted so much time, this had happened. Leto can't decide if he would've preferred to get with Levi back then to at least have all those years as more than parttime lovers or simply never get with him. That voice—and that intoxicating scent. It makes his gums ache with a visceral need to mark Levi. But he can't. He cannot be selfish like that, not after what had been done to that beautiful mind. He'd said no once, he can't do it twice; even if he knows that it'd be the right thing to do. "Alright. Lead the wat." He replies, putting his hands in his pockets before he has the reflex to take hold of Levi's hand. This is a mistake and he knows he'll be sobbing the next couple days—but he can't deny Levi.
This was torture. Levi would argue it was the sweetest torture he's ever gotten, if only because it allowed him a chance to see Leto. So much had happened to him since the night he left their home, since their break up, while at the same time it was like nothing had changed. He was still a mess, more than ever, but at least he had fed enough to look normal to anyone. Except he felt like Leto would be able to see past his charade if he stuck around him for too long, so as much as he hated to admit it, he knew it had to be a short walk with Leto. "Thank you." He meant it. Levi felt like he didn't deserve the kindness Leto was giving him right now, especially not the time he was allowing the vampire to steal, but he appreciated it more than Leto knew. Levi turned away from Leto so they could begin their walk, also shoving his hands in his pockets. At first Levi just walks alongside Leto in silence, letting them sit in that for a moment, it wasn't uncomfortable silence by any means. But it was difficult to not tell him things he wanted to tell him. "Are you enjoying the festival?"
OPEN STARTER.
The Flea Market Photo Booth Near Cafe DuMonde.
Cassidy was watching someone looking over all of the photo booth props and chuckled before going back to playing her latest round of Tetris on her phone. After a few more levels and finishing the game she called over to the person still looking and called out, "Are you looking for anything special? I might have what you are looking for in the back."
Ricardo was curiously browsing things with absolutely zero purpose other than just to browse. He had actually been in the best mood today that he had felt in a while, which was refreshing. Now that he found himself alone for a moment, he got sidetracked by the photos on display. They were beautiful and maybe he would buy one for his home. "Nothing in particular, if I am honest. I'm just trying to see which one to take home with me. Would you like to pick one out for me?"