It's got to happen, happen sometime @rebirtth - Tumblr Blog

Baby Face (1933) dir. Alfred E. Green

#i. / to rites derived from ancient days — study.

ofivana‌:

@rebirtth

Location: the Vatican Museum

After many introductions and exciting events, Ivy was pleased to have a moment alone to admire the artwork within the Vatican. Although she was infinitely proud of her Deutch heritage, she was the first to admit the Italians – and the Romans and Greek that came before them – had a certain way with art that stunned her. A small smile crossed her face as she gazed at Michelangelo’s work, always awed by the beauty it inspired. She’d always been a patron.

Ivy wandered through the museum for a few moments longer, making important introductions as she went. When she spotted Marianne among the initiates and members that had gathered in the Vatican, Ivy wasted no time in approaching the star. Like Michelangelo, Marianne was an artist, and Ivy admired her friend just the same. “You’re one of the first people I wished to see here,” she said in lieu of greeting. “How are you enjoying the festivities?”

Refreshed by a cigarette and a sip of champagne Marianne was in kinder spirits to talk to the initiates and members, her smile willing - small and polite, as she made herself seem friendly and benevolent to the peers who saw Marianne as not only a Hollywood actress but also a sixteen-year member of the society itself. She listened to them talk, she listened to their questions. But her heart refrained from getting into it, and instead her eyes strayed towards the girl who approached. The princess she had proposed as her protegee in various means.

She strayed from the group, her back turned to onlookers as she took dear Ivy ‘s arm to press a kiss to each of her cheeks. “Better late than never... Have you been to the paintings, my dear? I hear they have such old masters on display,” Marianne cooed as if making up to the princess when in reality Marianne nurtured an innocent fondness - a rarity indeed for an actress who lacked a fondness in nearly everyone. “It’s quite satisfactory, though I’d rather I was given leave for some of it. Mass, for example, they should know I am Jewish by now,” she almost laughed, tickling the thought on her tongue as she released her hand. “Yourself?”

#x. interactions — [ ivy ]

olivervaga‌:

Marianne was a firecracker. Usually in the fun way, but there were times when Oliver was legitimately concerned that she was going to murder him. Well, not always totally terrified — she seemed to really enjoy his efforts to please — but when he ran into her today, Oliver was a little worried.

Unfortunately, he’d never had much common sense when it came to his safety. That had been proven during his football career and all over again when he started to party a lot. There were weird drug cocktails involved. “You can burn me anytime,” Oliver said, winking. “Or — uh, I can burn you, if you’re into that.” He should shut up. “You wanna chat somewhere else?”

She stands with authority - head held high, shoulders back, lips pursed. Oliver was frayed around the edges, torn and messy. But in fact, she quite delighted in it. Pervertedly so. It was indeed a shame that he caught her attention, his boyish good looks and daring eyes meant trouble, but that had been her type ever since she worked out how and what to do with her body. Eyes, as green as freshly coveted emeralds, drawdown his physique to drink him in. Soaking him in, fingers itching at a time gone by.

He was at the bottom of it all, good for her ego.

“Do not speak, Oliver. It’s irritating,” she instructed, her hand quick to push him in a direction away from the main party of luncheon. Abigail would be engrossed in conversation, or so she hoped, as she took Oliver aside. Far from prying eyes, she stands before Oliver with the tap of her heel and the pucker of lips painted the shade of crimson. “What do you want? If it’s meine Fotze you’re after you will have to wait till later.”

#x. interactions — [ oliver ]

eversincc·:

Why did it seem she was the only one enjoying herself today? She, who had spent most of the day before swapping bitter thoughts on the expense, the extravagance, the pompous, pressing heat of it all. Was it the nature of those accustomed to wealth to be so constantly bored of it?

Privacy felt like something of a cage. Like shackles at her wrists, holding back her hands from welcoming touch, leaving only her eyes to spin affections back to her lover.

“Marianne,” she began gently, lips curled in fond amusement. “You sound like a broken record.”

Turning her head from her admirations, she begrudgingly detached her attention from the tour ahead of them, latching on to her partner. Was she reading too much into it, or was there anxiety in her voice? A gentle frown crossed her features, one hand raising against its shackles to touch her elbow, guiding her onwards.

There was a balcony, stretched beyond two french windows that opened with a push. Though it was not locked, though they had the most exclusive of access, the space felt strangely liminal. Distinctly like somewhere they ought not to be. All the same, the view it awarded was spectacular, spanning the rooftops of the grand museum stretching out to the Basilica and the square beyond.

With a little privacy, Abigail allowed herself to drift closer, hand scouring up the other woman’s arm. “You going to tell me what you’re fussing over, or are you just that desperate for a smoke?” she asked with a quiet chuckle.

The view offered more beauty than the museum itself and offered her the means to suck on a cigarette between hearty breaths. That, and she longed for the physical comfort and safe haven Abigail offered - oh, how sweet she was. How darling to be with someone who was the very personification of home. She knew it was rare to find such a lover, after all, Marianne had been attached to three husbands and not one of them offered the actress something other than malicious intent and vicious spats.

Cigarette poised in preparation she rises the filter to her lip and procures a steel-capped lighter from her purse. She gave little attention to her lover, the view or the fresh air till he took her first puff - plumes of white-grey smoke wafting before emerald eyes, masking the true thoughts that were at play behind such green hues.

“Desperate for a smoke I’m afraid, mein Täubchen,” Marianne answered, with not frustration perhaps but a tiredness that may hint to a sleepless night and routine dress changes for each separate event of the day ahead ( she would have a last fitting in an hour or so for the final dress... But then, this was a usual day for her - it was her bread and butter ).

“You smell divine, are you wearing that perfume I bought you?” She asked, her free hand perched upon Abigail’s shoulder as she leaned in to flare ner nostrils towards her neck; notes tickling her senses, warming her to a soft pulp for Abigail to enjoy. “I could eat you up,” Marianne whispered, a quick kiss pressed to that point above her pulse, before returning to her second puff of smoke.

“If you want to go and look at the old things go ahead, I will be out here...”

#x. interactions — [ abigail ]

propesolem‌:

the emerald glints under mixed fluorescent and candlelight. for a moment, napoleone thinks—just slightly, a passing thought and nothing more, the way one thinks of a curious thing even as one has bigger things in mind—of her husbands, his two friends, the rumours and the odd whispers; but then she smiles, and he lets all such thoughts be buried, almost as if he never thought them at all.

( this is, in the end, how the world works: by looking the other way. )

❛ now you’re just devolving into flattery, ❜ he says, the sound of a tut almost punctuating his sentence, though it is good-willed and sociable, a joking sort of chiding—if such chiding could exist. ❛ you shine too brightly in this room that there’s little thought or attention for anyone else. ❜

her last remarks, however, puzzles him, and he sees enough strategic value in letting it show, so he does: knit eyebrows, a slight downward curl to his lips, and a slight, tilted head. ❛ that bad already ? ❜ he asks, sounding almost pleasantly surprised. ❛ i have had little contact so far but—hm, i’m inclined to be generous, which is, i fear, somewhat of a grievous fault. ❜ there’s a tone of self-deprecation in there, purposeful and intentional. there’s a certain charm in knowing the limits of kindness even as one tries being kind. he lets himself cast one lazy glance towards the rest of the room, before, almost unprompted, as if it’s an afterthought more than anything else: ❛ you don’t approve ? ❜ the familiar notes of curiosity are delivered in a last-minute toast of champagne, punctuated by a sip that’s almost a sign for the other to do continue.

with each compliment she flourishes; petals extending, her nectar ripe. this is how an actress naturally reacts, or at least, an actress of marianne’s reach and fame.

and yet, she also closes. petals falling in to protect the gooey centre that harvested her secrets, lost actions and hidden skeletons. after all, he had once known two of her deceased husbands; all it would take was a serious look to her and all of her secrets would unravel like a badly tied knot.

still, she entertains him.

“na sicher, i don’t approve, mein freund,” she retorted, lips puckered to propose a crimson heart, her hand waving in a gesture as her eyebrows fell to elongate a frustration buried deep within her heart. frustration ravaged her as her eyes fluttered around the room, quickly scanning for worthy individuals and others she did not care for. reality stars, heiresses, boys brought up on mother’s teat. boredom clouded them like shrouds, making it obvious to marianne that they were not worth her time.

“it is lovely to see you again, tell me what i have missed...”

#x. interactions — [ napoleone ]

khxris·:

She laughed softly at Marianne’s threat, and took a moment to recall the aggravating man that had sat in front of her. “Ein Amerikaner,” she said in the other’s language, her lips twisting into irritation at the memory. “Judging from his accent. Obnoxious, he tried to speak to those seated beside him as the show went along. Of Hispanic descent, perhaps, and with a beard and thick-rimmed glasses. He jumped up to leave the moment he could. He will go through hell for my approval, if by this passe alone. Have you met any initiates of note, whether good or bad?”

Marianne rolled her lips at the idea of some child taking advantage of the society’s giving hand. She was sure that such a person would find it hard to thrive amongst the greatest personalities of the members; though it was her curious nature that leads her to sketch a visage of the man Alessandra described.

Perhaps she may find him and give him a talk; how dare you insult Alessandra!

“wie schrecklich,” she muttered as if poison itself was applied to her pronunciation as she leaned in closer to whisper to her friend. “Only a few, I hear there is a reality star amongst our ranks. A reality star. How on earth do they think that’s acceptable? I may have a word with the head, I am outraged.”

#x. interactions — [ alessandra ]

POINT COUNT ( 23/04 to 25/04 ) claiming 38 points for MARIANNE point breakdown :

ask memes : 1 x 1 = 1 points

intro post : 1 x 15 = 15 points

replies : 1 x 2 = 2 points

starters: 5 x 2 = 10 points

task : 1 x 10 = 10 points

total : 38 points .

MARIANNE now has 38 points.

#point call.

BASICS.

Name: Marianne Ursula Wagner Bloom Babenberg Nickname: ( only to her most inner circle ) Marie, Annie, Ann, Gender & Pronouns: Female & She/Her Age & DOB: 46 & 12th December 1973 Zodiac sign: Sagittarius Orientation: Bisexual & Biromantic Nationality: German Ethnicity: White Religion: Jewish Neuroses: OCD

#gilded:task

location : luncheon la pergola, @olivervaga

she pretends she doesn’t see him as she leaves the main buzz of noise at the luncheon. he pretends he almost doesn’t exist as she sips champagne and fondles her purse for her organic cigarettes.

he was a foul habit that she wished to kick. but he was oh so good in bed.

with a compact mirror exposed she touches upon the red line of her lips, colouring them in with a chanel lipstick before emeralds switch to oliver who stands not too far from her. “do not come any closer oliver, or i will have you burned.”

#x. interactions — [ oliver ]

killbilled

Arrested Development 1.05 // Succession 2.03

#ksksks #i. / to rites derived from ancient days — study.

khxris·:

@rebirtth·

LOCATION: SHOWING OF DON GIOVANNI

“Questo è il fin di chi fa mal, e de’ perfidi la morte alla vita è sempre ugual!”

Heavy, impassioned applause filled the Opera House to mark the end of the show, its cast and crew bowing one-by-one on the stage to receive said applause before dispersing. It was always a pleasure, the Opera, and even more the pleasure on such an occasioned day. On the way out of the Opera House, she occasioned upon a figure so intimately familiar to her. “Medea, darling,” she greeted, of course appropriately with a kiss to the cheek. “It was a rather good show, wasn’t it? Some initiate in front of me was on their phone the whole time. What disrespect for the arts.”

She took Alessandra close as she kissed each cheek. She had enoyed the performance, but it had been the issue of one of the women on stage who had almost ruined it for her ( it had been a poor performance to Marianne perhaps only because of her stage lessons and her own experience, it was from such that she could see a fault from a mile away! ). At her news, as brisk as it may be, Marianne widened her eyes before flamboyantly covering her opened mouth. “You have got to be kidding me?” She called, German turned to English a natural habit of hers as she took Alessandra’s arm to leave the building together - an entrail of entourage following from a respectable distance. “They must be made to leave. We can’t allow such idiots to seek our luxuries. Actually, someone should berate them. Who was it? Give me a description and I will set my man on them.”

#x. interactions — [ alessandra ]

propesolem‌:

with @rebirtth at the performance of don giovanni

don giovanni is a droning something of an affair that, even if it were only an hour long, would still be an hour too long. critics call it an operatic tour-de-force, one of the greatest pieces ever written by the austrian composer, but it was torrid and droll. perhaps napoleone is biased, brought up as he was on opera as his bread and butter, if not through going to actual performances then on the gramophones that his parents used to play constantly when he was home. at a certain point in time, achievement and beauty fades away into boredom and apathy. too much of a good thing can never be good at all.

the intermission comes blessedly, giving him time to stretch his atrophied legs. another hour and a half of this seems painful, but such are the things one must endure for the sake of the society. the good thing about this whole thing is that endless bottles of champagne seem to be ready to serve at a moment’s notice, a simple wave of the hand bringing some ever-attendant server to you with a smile and a flute of bubbled drinks. he grabs one idly, sipping it almost absent-mindedly, before his eyes chance to alight on someone familiar, and he takes the opportunity to at least glean some sort of entertainment before having to go back to the auditorium.

❛ you look beautiful as always, ❜ says napoleone, giving marianne a quick look-over before he leans in and touches his cheek to hers once, twice before straightening himself up properly. ❛ what do you think of the current initiates so far ? ❜ he asks, almost immediately going down to business, but he delivers it in such a way that his question could almost be construed as mere gossiping.

as napoleone may turn away from the performance, marianne found herself engulfed. or so, perhaps she would’ve been if she hadn’t picked out the odd dull tone of one of the actresses. she had complained about it to an assistant throughout the first half, pointing out what was wrong and where she went right. later, she’d have to find the poor lamb to give her a critique.

posed with champagne the actress turned duchess stands away from the gathering masses of initiates and new members, instead of turning to take another flute before allowing herself one long sip. if there was any good in the world, marianne found it within the bowl of a bottle.

her eye finally is drawn back o the crowd, where she spots napoleone in all his glory. the light from the window bleeds down onto him, highlighting him above the rest as she rests the full plump of her lips against her glass. when approached, she takes him with a smile - cheek to cheek she stands before pulling back to settle her glass aside.

“the same to you, dear,” she answers her voice as clear cut as the emerald that shines upon her finger before she gives him a slow look-over. it was always custom to check out your closest and strongest.

“oh ‘leone,” she coos, his nickname drawing upon her lips as she puckers and poses ( such was a habit for a hollywood actress ). “i’ve seen one or two that have caught my eye but the rest... absolutely dreadful. do you know, one is a reality tv star? what even... what is that?”

#x. interactions — [ napoleone ]

timestamp : the tour around the vatican museum @eversincc

she stands with little intent as she watches the initiates spare momentary glances towards her; as they flutter around her like nervous birds. oh, if only she could’ve skipped the entire day — she would’ve rather have been in the south of france with a glance of wine and a record spun against the needle ( a first pressing of one of elvis’ records, soothing for the weather and her temperament that seemed to battle with her sense of sanity in the prolonged april sunny days ).

“abigail?” she calls, her voice low and clear as she sways from one foot to the other, sharing her weight out upon heels that dig into her feet ( but she had been raised on such instruments, so it was strange not to feel the pain of a day’s embrace ).

“abigail, let us go get some fresh air. there must be... a balcony of some kind,” marianne muttered, bringing her purse forth as she fondled its contents for her organic cigarettes.

though her relationship with the scottish politician was private, marianne was falling into old traps of comfort — reaching for her hand, kissing her cheek.. it would only be a matter of time for the unveiling to the public ( ah, the police wouldn’t be too happy about it. ).

“abigail.”

#x. interactions — [ abigail ]

frodo-sam

#i. / to rites derived from ancient days — study.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝖌𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌

𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔤𝔫𝔢𝔯 : 𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰

#gilded:new moon #iii. / the rites that taught us to combine — face claim.#viii. / to cheer despair or soften pride — edits.#!!

mikaeled

Rachel Weisz interviewed by CinemaBlend at SDCC 2019

#i love my wife !!#iii. / the rites that taught us to combine — face claim.

gildedsource

For the purposes of point tallying, every bullet is worth one (1) point.

metals.

diamond : what is your muse’s most precious possession ? why is it precious to them ?

platinum : what has been your muse’s proudest achievement to date ?

gold : which trait would your muse consider most valuable in the world ? do they possess this trait ?

silver : has there ever been a time where your muse was almost but not quite enough ? what did they learn from this incident ?

bronze : what historical period is your muse most interested in ? what stoked this interest ? or are they perhaps the type to look more towards the future ?

copper : what was your muse’s past like ? do they talk about their past or are they tight-lipped about such matters ?

steel : is your muse particularly strong-willed ? what is the one thing they’ll fight for ?

aluminium : what is it that your muse looks down upon as weakness ?

luxuries.

jewellery : what is the most valuable object in your character’s possession ? how did they come to own this object ?

champagne : does your muse indulge in a certain vice or habit ? do they have it under control or is it beginning to take over their life ?

rare books : who is your muse’s favourite author ? what is your muse’s favourite book ?

chocolate : does your character have a sweet tooth ?

caviar : what’s your muse’s favourite food ?

sports cars : is your muse a good driver or do they prefer to leave that up to their chauffeurs ? what cars do they own, if any ?

designer clothes : does your muse have a certain label / brand they flock to for clothing ? what’s your muse’s fashion style like ?

watches : does your muse always have a plan or do they take things as they come ?

silk sheets : what’s your muse like in bed ? are they domineering or are they more submissive ?

places.

rome : what legacy would your muse prefer to leave behind ?

paris : is your muse artistic ? is there a certain piece of art that moves them ?

ko thxng : does your muse party hard until the sun comes out or are they the first to leave in a party ?

sausalito : what kind of things does your muse watch for leisure ? what are their favourite films and tv shows ? what’s on their my list in netflix ?

seychelles : what kind of sports does your muse practice ? are they good at it ?

THIS ASK MEME WAS CREATED FOR GILDEDHQ && IS TO BE REBLOGGED BY MEMBERS ONLY.

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