INDEFINITE HIATUS.
Three Goblin Art
Sade Olutola
AnasAbdin
hello vonnie
styofa doing anything
todays bird
No title available
trying on a metaphor
RMH
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

roma★

oozey mess

Product Placement
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Peter Solarz
art blog(derogatory)

Discoholic 🪩
Xuebing Du

No title available
we're not kids anymore.
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@rebirthed-a
INDEFINITE HIATUS.
@rebirthed | ruh roh raggy…
❝ vous vous êtes bien reposée , mon chère ? ❞ softly , ever genteel the delighted timbre of accented tongue , singing morning greetings towards the embalmer . briskly , clawed fingers gently kiss the pale skin of their nape , aiming for playful surprise ———— although considering the ever - deafening heartbeat all survivors held for the manor’s hunters , perhaps it was no surprise at all . his touch does not overstay its welcome , leaving only the warmth lingering .
❝ how long have you been awake ? pardonnez mon absence , i rarely feel the desire to leave home during colder seasons , but i was feeling rather fine today . ❞ even without the modern - looking camera looped around his neck , it was not difficult to guess what the photographer so wished to do . ❝ & … well , you looked rather at peace . i am not quite princely enough to awaken la beauté endormie . ❞
it takes a fair deal of effort not to tease anymore than so . BUT THERE ARE OTHER THINGS HE WISHES TO GET TO . OTHER THINGS FAR BETTER , if the hand hidden behind his back is any indication .
❝ on my way , i came across quite lovely sights—— i believe you would find this most lovely too . ❞ silver crown tilts forth & he is BEAMING , an enchanted pull of lips in delight as hands reveal a delicately wrapped bouquet of FLORA . in stark contrast to the sullen white / grays of winter , the roseate flowers have blossomed a wonderful carmine - aubergine shade . the gift is delivered with all his usual enthusiasm , if not a little more , unspoken sentimentality weighing down on vibrant cerulean .
❝ to think there could be something that survives the cold of winter … it makes me most grateful . & , i’ve always felt saddened by the barrenness of your most beautiful garden when the cold comes around . these appear capable of growing most everywhere , it would look stunning ... plus , i believe i have to make up for one of my , well , drunken antics . ❞ a hum from his throat as he outstretches the smaller bouquet towards his bien-aimée . a gentle , tender glance to hold his attraction . of course , the flora could not dream of outshining the most enchanting rose in front of himself . ❝ if not , i think they would be a good addition to the domicile ! ❞
in a rare moment of tranquil respite embalmer sits by the kitchen island, gazing outside at the snowy landscape out of the window. with a warm cup of tea in his hands he finds himself lost, dreaming. nothing in particular. just basking in the serenity of watching snowflakes covering the little green that remains in his garden.
it is because of the sight keeping him pre-occupied, the greeting of joseph falls to deaf ears at first. jumping when positively cold fingertips brush against his skin. joseph’s touch has always been a cold one, but the outside cold seemed to have only made it worse. ❝ was — was that really necessary ? ❞ he questions, his eyes narrowing as he asks. yet he cannot remain ‘ mad’ at him for long and a sigh passes his lips. ❝ i did, ❞ he looks at the clock on the wall. 11 o’clock. ❝ i just woke up so, ❞ in comparison to the rest of his track record it was a big improvement. it seemed that all those products that joseph bought which aesop had deemed unnecessary indeed did work even just a little.
❝ that’s ... odd. ❞ is embalmer’s first response upon seeing the flowers. perhaps not the first response joseph had anticipated or hoped for. ❝ oh they are absolutely beautiful, ❞ he corrects himself as he gently takes the bouquet of flowers from the other. ❝ there are only a few flowers that i know of that can survive against this cold. like hellebore and winter aconite. ❞ he looks at the flowers again. ❝ where did you find them ? i have never seen anything like it before. ❞ aesop often goes for a stroll in the woods to be by himself and in those three years he has never seen anything like it. and if this place has learnt him anything, sudden appearing objects are often a good reason to become suspicious.
however, the comment and memory of one of joseph’s drunken episodes causes him to look up again. ❝ you do not need to make up for it. ❞ if anything joseph only owes it to himself to be better, to do better. briefly aesop gazes the other way, the pollen causing an itch and forces him to sneeze. weird, he’s not allergic for flowers. ❝ i just ... hate seeing you like that and i think about it still every day. ❞ in that moment aesop freezes as he had uttered those words out loud ( ‘ what ? i did not mean to say that — ‘ ).
timemarked
not knowing what you’d like —— ever opinionated & vocal , former count could not begin to understand that kind of emotion . the more explanation for this aesop fed , the clearer this fog of puzzlement became . unlike himself , the embalmer straddled a thin line of UNCERTAINTY when it came to such freedom of choice , hardly experienced & hardly ever given a say in the matter . as they sit quietly together glancing along the catalogue & the assortment of interior styles & designs offered , & photographer cherishes their warmth & the gentle touch of their careful affection , joseph is once again reminded of how vastly different people’s lives play out .
❝ —— our home … ❞ frenchman repeats the words in softness , slow & hushed & allowing of the sentiment behind it all to gulf & eat him whole before he exhales with intent .
❝ i had only moved a handful of times . however , a long , LONG time ago , when i was but a young boy , my family were forced to make a rather big move . un autre pays . i detested the idea . ❞ cerulean eyne affix themself on the sight of gloved hand atop his own as he speaks . if there was an art to making a home in memories of pasts romanticized & nostalgic , JOSEPH HAS MASTERED IT SO , & his camera by which such art is made . he recalls it so : all the golds & silvers , the marbled floors , the outrageous number of empty rooms & more space than they knew what to do with , & all the prideful displays of wealth . but it was HOME ——— full of all the warmth & smiles of associated with the word . frenchman’s next home was cold , dark , the stark contrast of death & infection & tragedy . ever since that day , hadn’t he become entranced by the past ? ❝ … i am realizing now that , perhaps i have been too fixated on the idea of recreating my childhood home . you are right in finding a style that suits the both of us . ❞
joseph desaulniers’ gaze finally looks their way , softens further , & the smile that turns up the corners of his mouth remains pleasantly fixed in a gracious curl , with sentimentality — hope — as he himself settles more comfortably . for a moment , hunter simply watches , folding & crossing over his legs . petite digits linger , shifting to capture gloved ones between his own . aesop always seems to have that effect on him , bringing on a sense of comfort different to the one photography brought him . he is reminded of a home he had forgotten .
feeling less of a weigh upon his chest , frecnhman is quick to return with typical boldness , hands still interlaced with one another . ❝ it’s never too late , ma chérie . even if you are unsatisfied with how it looks , we can always replace it . if the home is trop petit , we can expand . ❞
more reminder than boast , a man unburdened by a lack of wealth for all his life , a man who never thought anything less of living to the fullest . & did the man before him , did aesop carl not deserve to have the best ? the most luxurious ? sitting himself closer to better view the catalogue shared , joseph calls over one of the employees , ❝ excuse me . we would like EVERYTHING here . ❞
❝ you had to move to england ... right ? ❞ embalmer cautiously asks, afraid he may allow some bad memories to resurface. when this world had transported him to memories of joseph past he had heard some rumors of this big move in the hallways. however, seeing as it had been such intimate memory he had never spoken of it before. after all, how can someone fit in the mention of having seen someone’s younger self and dying twin so casually into a conversation. it breeds a new uncertainty now that he thinks about it. just as he has seen some parts he probably should not have seen. how much has joseph seen of his past?
mulling about it longer he then adds, ❝ i do not think that building it a little bit after your childhood home is a bad thing as long it is not a replica. ❞ he know that is he is going to walk a thin line with his next inquiry but he dares to say it. ❝ it must have been a nice place, but why did you wish to recreate it ? i can only imagine it must pale in comparison and could never compare to the original. ❞ would it not only enhance the feeling of what was once lost? expanding on the feeling of what is lost and the loneliness that comes with it?
❝ ... to think you have the time and energy for all of that. ❞ embalmer sighs as he shakes his head. ❝ i would much prefer for this all to be soon over and never having to do this again save for a few modifications as time progresses. ❞ what he means to say is that he is tired of having strangers ( builders ) walking around the place where their house once stood.
gaze remains affixed on the photographer when he sees him getting into that too comfortable pose again. the pose that tells him he is up to something again. and before he can stop it the man broadly exclaims that they wish to purchase everything. ❝ no ! we would NOT like to buy everything. ❞ head snaps back towards joseph’s direction. ❝ i know you are eager to spend money but no one needs 120 different tiles. ❞
fortunately the employee finally offered another solution that would put a halt to all these antics. ❝ you both could create moodboards. ❞ they say, ❝ if you give them to one of our designers they will handle the rest and merge both your preferences. ❞ aesop was quick to agree to the idea.
after handing in their moodboards both were invited for a little chat with the designer. it gave the designer a chance to listen to their individual wishes without the other interfering. ‘ is there something you would like to see in the house ? ‘ embalmer thinks about it, but quickly comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t have anything in particular he must have. however as he looks at joseph in the corner of his eyes he thinks of something. ❝ actually, there may be something. ❞ he starts, ❝ would it be possible to have some kind of studio ? for painting, photography and the like — in our old home we only had a darkroom in the basement. ❞ and unbeknownst to the embalmer he ended up fueling the photographer’s bad habits. ❝ a room that is bright and warm. ❞ filled with hope.
it has been months since they gave the designer authority to design their house and today is the day they finally get to see their new house. standing in front of the door he looks at the key in joseph’s hands. ❝ if it is going to be anything like the front yard i would say they have already succeeded. ❞ especially the custom number sign attached to the wall with their names on it is a nice touch.
with a deep breath they open the door to their new abode and for a moment it feels as if his heart had stopped. to think, that what is right in front of them could be called his. something to call his own, something he never had. always on the move to ensure he and his mentor would never be found out. but now, now he has a place to call his own.
in the corner of his eyes he notices a door that doesn’t look too different from the rest of the doors on the second floor. yet, embalmer gets an idea what is behind and stops joseph from opening it. ❝ wait, do not open that one yet. ❞ he supposes the look he gives him is warranted, but he wants that one to be a surprise. especially when joseph will note the lack of a room for his photography and other artistic endeavors. ❝ let us leave that room for last. ❞
aymried
She wants to grimace at the thought of being stuck here longer than necessary, hands once more pulling her away from the path she has chosen. Yet, she listens with no choice but to take this stranger’s words as fact. Although she is never inclined to trust someone right off the bat, Edelgard knows there is nothing to gain from doing so here. At least, that is what she presumes. Such varying paths, all intertwined in this one realm, is certainly a sight to behold.
Yet, why is she granted these steps? A question she may never know the answer to.
“How absurd.. I’d like to speak with this person.” A dream, maybe. She has no idea who she is up against here, in retrospect. “I’ve no desire to see any doppelganger of my own, but it seems as if you’ve been granted little choice. Pulled by the strings of another, as it were.” The thought alone is enough to irritate her. “Then.. With all of that in mind, let me ask you this- Accustomed to it or not, are there any who rebel? Who wish to fight against the grain?”
they wish to do what now? ❝ good luck with that. ❞ he states plainly. in truth embalmer has long fallen into a ‘ oh, so this is what we’re doing now, ok. ‘ kind of mindset that he never really considered the possibility of someone actually actively wanting to reach out to the mastermind of this all. however, seeing as this person is carrying around an axe he doubts this is just a normal every day person ( as if the clothing wasn’t a telltale sign ).
❝ as far as i know no one has managed to do so. ❞ but then again what would he know, he never really paid much attention to the masses. in fact the place has become somewhat of a second home to him. the time to resist has long passed for him. ❝ i am certain that there are a few that rebel, but there will not be many. ❞ all are bound to give up after a couple of months or so. ❝ it is not like they have a place where they all gather either. ❞ where would these people even gather — he wonders. ❝ if you really wish to rebel you might have to ignite a rebellion on your own and hope the other people will follow you. ❞
Are you becoming what you’ve always hated?
Charles Bukowski (via henrycharlesbukowski)
Aesop’s embalming struggles
If only my heart were as cold as I pretend it is, maybe I could get over this.
Jessica Katoff (via dm--archive)
blindspot
Let it die. Let there be a new beginning. It’s awful. Goodnight.
Charles Bukowski (via fox-corner)
Please god let this theory be real
timemarked
spoken in fragments . ever the socialite , the former count desaulneirs notes the slight hesitation with every word —— as though the speaker themselves were entranced in thought , picking & choosing which information to tell & which to keep . he speaks nothing of the matter .
❝ he . you’re speaking of your father , yes ? had he left , or perhaps … ❞ passed . photographer never speaks the word aloud , however , halted by his own dislike of the word & the decision to allow aesop to reveal it himself , if they so wished .
instead , joseph continues his sip , glancing once more at the photograph he had studied thoroughly during his repair . his way of giving time for the other to settle their thoughts .
❝ it is a lovely portrait de famille . very high quality , although i suppose time had changed by then . ❞ a smile , for the photographer too cannot help but REMINISCE . although the time then only allowed his full family portrait to be painted by talented hands , it too remained something important of his —— even if it could never compare to the flawlessness of a photograph . ❝ you must have been a close family , to decide to get a portrait like this . ❞
his gaze wanders to the older figure in the picture. ( ‘ if only he would have left — no. mother would still have ... ‘ ) ❝ i am, ❞ he senses the hesitation in joseph’s voice and truthfully he cannot blame him for it. for him, what follows next are unforgivable acts. but then again what is not aesop’s life but filled with acts no god will forgive him for ? ❝ he died in a train accident. another train collided with his when it was stationary at the station. ❞ the only consolation he had was that he did not need to suffer for long. however, aesop was too young to understand at that time.
❝ you’re right though, it is high quality. ❞ something most families could not afford, but his definitely could. ❝ we were a happy family — and it was a good life. ❞ memories he thought he had forgotten or pushed away because they would become unbearable to carry around any longer slowly come back to him and so does the grip on the picture tighten a little bit.
which brings them to the next person. the mother. ❝ the abrupt loss was something my mother could not carry and half a year later she took her own life. ❞ then he stops. he does not need to tell what he wanted others to think. ❝ no. more accurate would be to say she was murdered instead. but perhaps that story is best left for another time. ❞
kleinstar
“ Well, it’s pretty quiet in here so couldn’t help but overhear…. “
He slips by the other to see what’s exactly the issue. The way he’s talking clues Eiden enough to figure out that the modern technology isn’t this guy’s forte. A further look at the screen tells the same tale as well, almost more so. It’s almost like seeing a cursed relic.
“ Uhhuh.”
He nods in perfect understanding.
“ Anyway, we’re closing this. Do yourself a favour and never touch that one ever again.“
Eiden grabs the mouse, clicking the x in the corner of the browser, opening chrome instead, content smile forming on his face as he does.
“ That’s better. “
❝ did i do something wrong ... ? ❞
embalmer wonders while raising a brow. gaze briefly going back to the screen before looking back at the stranger. he still has absolutely no idea what he is doing : and to be fair if he could avoid these types of things he would definitely do so. getting the hang of his phone already had been difficult enough.
❝ i hate to ask you this but would you mind helping me ? ❞ he questions taking out the card that he was given which has their website on it. ❝ i never had to use a computer before so i am not sure where to start. ❞ another reason why he he preferred to avoid this all together is the looks he is bound to get for looking at mortuary equipment.
timemarked
some things were best not asked aloud — matter how much photographer wished to satiate his curiosity — especially when it came to a matter like aesop carl , who revealed little of their past . it was almost as though there laid an unspoken rule between them & what lives they had led prior to the manor . no , even during the games .
when the embalmer speaks , it is with surprise the count desaulniers STOPS , porcelain teacup hovering by lip side .
❝ i do , ❞ speaks softness , feeling ashen brows draw themselves up in something understood as care . whatever answer the photographer needed , it was undoubtedly true that he could have long guessed it . the answer mattered little in comparison to what having this conversation meant . in the first place , joseph wished for aesop himself to speak it aloud . ❝ who are the people in that photograph ? ❞
they have never spoken about these kinds of topics before. even when confronted with them directly such as encountering claude — or at least someone who looked like him in the museum. or when they saw each other’s memories. yet they never spoke of it to each other out loud. almost as if it was forbidden to do so. and for aesop carl, it was. there are things that cannot and should not be spoken of.
❝ those people are my parents and i, ❞ however, this subject is not one of them. the person who had prevented him to speak of such things is no longer around. he can speak freely now, but does he truly want to remember? ❝ in a better life, ❞ a pause, ❝ a long time ago. ❞ yet had it not been for these tragic events he would not have been here today. he supposes it did bring some good. though he wished his parents did not need to suffer as much as they did. ❝ i cannot really remember when it was taken, but i am guessing i must have been seven at the time. after all, he is still in the picture. ❞ before everything went down hill.
I: did you hate him?
MW: who does not hate the person to blame for their existence? Just a little?
reversedpsync
“Yeah… though, all sorts of people seem to be here, so who knows?” Being a dedicated archeologist in a place like this might’ve been difficult, but it wasn’t impossible to imagine one had been here at some point. That wasn’t really his area of expertise though.
In fact, part of the reason his curiosity had gotten the better of him had absolutely nothing to do with the who or what of this place- the strange architecture around here looked like it would lead to interesting pathways for free running, honestly. Though, if it was inhabited, maybe less so.
“A prototype, hmm…?” He couldn’t deny the possibility. The way that things were laid out, it certainly seemed like… something that could’ve been relevant. He just couldn’t for the life of him say what. “As if someone had tried to build a city like this before, but failed. I guess I can see how that might be possible… whoever tried to set that up would certainly be determined.”
❝ perhaps some day people will figure it out, ❞ he comments whilst looking at the view ahead of him. ❝ or perhaps the creators of the city we live in reveal its purpose sooner or later. ❞ after all, all places here in spirale have it’s purpose. just like the portal that could bring him to his counterpart. his other self that has always lived in spirale. perhaps he should go there again some day.
❝ anyone who creates a place like this has to be determined. ❞ there is no way someone would be able to create and maintain it if they weren’t. which begs the question, for what purpose? ❝ this place certainly resembles an end of the world scenario. ❞ now where has he heard that one before? the idea of this being a prototype begins to become more plausible by the minute. ❝ do you think the ... ❞ he pauses, trying to find the word he is looking for, ❝ — robots here would know what happened to them ? ❞
❝ you look like you want to ask something, ❞ embalmer notes as he takes the restored photograph from joseph. his thumb running over the picture once as he looks at the photo. though brief, for a split second, his expression softens. ❝ ask, though i am certain you have figured it out by now. ❞
@timemarked // follow up photograph ask.