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tatteredxclaws :

@ilcolosso

“Hey Sira, are your cats home? We were supposed to meet half an hour ago outside to play poker.“ Of course she’s lying, but she just wanted to see if this old, grown ass man is going to believe a 14 year old kid when she says cat poker is a real thing.

Oh! The young spirit! Sira just sits there for a moment, an aging man on his porch, trying to process how a cat would go about playing poker. He will entertain her this time, perhaps only on the grounds that he wants to see it happen. Chuckling, he shakes his head: “Really! Please forgive them for their absence. Let’s see if I can fetch them for you.” He opens the door to his home, and the two of them bolt outside mere moments later. Lucia, cautious, stands tentatively by the entryway. Ciacco pads up to Kana with a trill, sniffing her leg before curling his plump self around it. “Lucia isn’t fond of card games -- not any I know of, that is,” he adds. “But Ciacco, he is dangerous. He won’t play fair.”

#tatteredxclaws #//im d ying #I still can't believe this perfect expression you drew #sira: the gif of the woman looking at math equations #☂ some kind of virgil.

fuckyeahanoukaimee

8½, 1963, Fellini

#☂ il colosso.#//bath robe chic

mcneyhoney

@ilcolosso

“ no i’m no one’s wife, but —- oh, i love my life! “

ilcolosso-blog

“My love, if you could please not...” Stefi’s timing is impeccable -- she interjects just often enough to send his hands off course. Everything he plays now is “All That Jazz.” Everything he writes on the grand stave: “All That Jazz.” Sira never considered that their could possibly be too much jazz until tonight. Hunched over the piano keys, he peers at her over his shoulder like a villain at a pipe organ. “I suppose we’ll call it quits on our composing session.” He is deathly grim for only a moment before his face lightens, how ever slightly.

#mcneyhoney #//jazz music stops.jpg #☂ some kind of virgil.

Ciri will hold out an ancient picture of the good ol' remo and ask him if he's seen this man ( and if not if he'll resurrect him but kgjfdjsj too soon im jUST SAYING she'll find sira when she finds out )

Sira consults his memories and draws no recollection. He thinks, briefly, that the man may have once appeared as faintly as he does now, no more than vignetting in a photograph. Among the family or not, living or dead. He studies the photo long enough to feel a chill on his skin. “I’m afraid not,” Siracusa tells her, with a forlorn smile. “But I do hope he turns up for you.”

#cirocchio #//I aged ten years in between you sending and me replying I am so sorry #sira swears not to resurrect loved ones but I can see him being reeeeeally convinced by ciri :'''')#☂ message from birdland (giver).

Sira IRL: I’m fine

Sira in his dreams: -drapes over piano- Santo cielo............. che meraviglia questo giardino! -improvs in across all keys in rapid succession- See the ruins..... how they reflect my soul, I’ll never love again, also do you want a glass of wine

@traumeriin

#mobile.#//i miss being here! it’s been an extremely difficult year—but!#I’m starting a new job soon that shouldn’t be as soul sucking as the last! and it pays much more!#also I finally met clara in person and it was the best week of my life #hope yall are well!#☂ out of ossuaries.

robertdeniro

“We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything - what a waste!” Michael Stuhlbarg as Mr. Perlman in Call Me By Your Name (2017)

#☂ blue note worship.#//Big Vibe #gif //#long post //

@jessicastrung:

{ text to; sira baby } kisssiiesss nn hugsss for the babyyyy xoxoxo

she’s plastered; on her back — crumpled at the foot of the stairs. her heels are somewhere nearby, (not on her feet, anyway), purse scattered by her side. squinting at her phone, she makes sure to send him ample emojis too.

{ text to; sira baby } i cnt wanlk up the st airs

[txt: Jess] I’m 49, dear. To think: the last time they met, he had likened her to the divine, the head of her very own haute couture pantheon. As he descends the stairwell to meet her now, he looks down at her with the stoicism of a man at a crime scene. Siracusa tsks and shakes his head. Even goddesses have their days. “You made it this far, at least. And in heels,” he adds, his voice no higher than a murmur. He starts to gather her shoes, her purse, her trinkets that have formed a perfect treasure-map trail from her head to his door. “I would call you a ride home, but I’m afraid you might forget which home is yours.”

#jessicastrung #//I'm so #the translation is you're welcome on my sofa or in the guest bed #☂ some kind of virgil.

@jessicastrung

[txt: Jess] Jess, please, I’m right in the middle of a breakthrough.

He scowls a little at that line after sending it. He is an absolute bastard at the worst of times.

[txt: Jess] Just kidding. I’ll be down in a second--no hugs or kisses necessary.

#jessicastrung #//is this going to be a hangover care thread #aka what I live for #HI you're great #☂ some kind of virgil.

@traumeriin

“Rosemary, there’s something I’ve meant to ask you. ...” But he hasn’t an idea of how to ask. Sira considers the words as carefully as he tends to the soil, and like the perennials, he seems to be coming up a bit short. Here they are in the garden, every Sunday the same it had been for weeks. Nothing new aside from one bloom and the holes in his overalls. What ever could make this one so different? With a dramatic flourish, Siracusa lifts his head from the azaleas, hair falling limply across his face. “Promise you won’t think any less of me,” he says to her.

#traumeriin #//HELLO! I hope this is okay after my absence!#sira you can't just say things like that #☂ some kind of virgil.

The last conversation they’d had wasn’t the most.. Tactful of Milos’ moments. A glass with the bottom lined of whiskey was slid towards the other with a small nod. “—You’re forgiven.”

No. No, no, no, no… Surely he must be mistaken. Sira had believed there to be no recovery from their encounter–no repentance, just ducking out of sight ‘til death.

After some pause, Siracusa slides the whiskey back to Milos. He casts his steady, faintly bewildered gaze upon the younger man. He removes his glasses, squints, puts them back on. “Now, don’t waste a drink on me,” he says. “You are the better one, you know.”

#edencursed #//milos.. please #don't do it #here's a plate of regret spaghett #☂ message to birdland.#☂ some kind of virgil.

//[sira voice]

he's gonna find out

Santa Claus is gonna find out

#mobile #☂ out of ossuaries.#//HELLOOOO I have so much muse but I am #in a cycle of working and sleeping and not much else #happiest holidays! i hope you're all well!

{ nox: }

“ you’d never scare me off, ‘cusa, “ he retorts through a slurred mumble. the accent has worsened, become more inner city during his time away. hanging with the wrong crowd again! well, them and his nana. too thin shoulders shrug and slump as he sinks down, chin now on his hand. “ missed you too. “ too much. “ was alrigh’… stayed wi’ me nana for a while. forgot how nice she is. “

He sips. Menacingly. His face is shielded halfway by the mug, but his eyes are smiling. “I hope you’re well-rested, then. I’m not sure if zio can spare another playdate with your children.” And Siracusa means well, really. He would whisk Wolf and Molly away as his own, kicking and screaming, if he could. Yet Sira feels destined to watch them from afar, to intervene when the little prince neglects his duty. “Molly and I, we rumba until she falls asleep. Watch out, prince–” another sip “–she’s catching up to you."

#strcngemercy #//do u ever just cry #☂ some kind of virgil.

♬ plates shattering ♬

#teniras #//I KEPT TRYING TO WRITE SOMETHING BUT #this reaction speaks for itself #now he just hides from her #daddy kink tw

2dtraditionalanimation

Roger and Anita - Milt Kahl

#//=')#☂ blue note worship.#☂ an old fur and dusty vagabonds.#//also: sira/rosie tag #☂ ode to queue.

shawnkidbaby

#//rev up those fryers we are going to fucking bologna town #☂ blue note worship.#☂ ode to queue.

ivanschildhood-blog1

“He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.”

Andrei Rublev (1966) dir. Andrei Tarkovsky

#☂ blue note worship.#☂ an old fur and dusty vagabonds.#☂ ode to queue.

beatsiebcy

“ needed some time t’meself, didn’ i? birra r&r, savin’ up brain power. can’ handle bein’ near people all th’time so i fucked off back to dublin. bu’ am here now – dunno how long for, s’the only thing. “

ilcolosso-blog

He mulls over Nox’s dialect. It is not unlike hearing a lost, dead language. Then, nodding, Sira refills a glass of fireball whiskey for his company. “Well. I would hope I didn’t scare you off that badly.” He is only half joking. Such is the nesting doll nature of Siracusa’s concern. “You were missed. How was this holiday of yours?”

#strcngemercy #//='))))))#you get dadacusa I hope that's okay #☂ some kind of virgil.#☂ ode to queue.

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