izzy's playlists!
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Stranger Things
Sade Olutola
Fai_Ryy
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Xuebing Du
EXPECTATIONS
Peter Solarz
Three Goblin Art
roma★
YOU ARE THE REASON
Mike Driver
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Keni
Cosmic Funnies
pixel skylines
One Nice Bug Per Day
Janaina Medeiros
hello vonnie
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from South Korea
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
@sightindarkness-blog
“Have you ever wanted something so bad that you’d do anything for it, you wanted this one thing more than anything else in the world, then you finally get it --- and realize you don’t really want it anymore nor did you ever need it? Then you begin to want something else?” He’s explaining this to the other carefully. It’s something he knows best about. “That’s what greed is.”
“Not at all.” Picking up her knapsack and setting it by her feet, Genevieve scooted her notebook over to her side of the table as well. She was happy to share her early afternoon with the stranger from the park.
Though right next to her, she couldn’t help but want to stand and help him find the chair and sit. But she decided to ask instead, to do her best to not treat him like spun glass. “Have you got it?” Only get up if he asks for you, she repeated in her head, the nursing side of her trying to break free.
He could hear a shift and when things were still he reached forward to feel out in front of him. “Yes, I’ve -- “ fingers stretched out in hope of something until the back of his hand brushed against wood. The back of a chair. He smiled and moved to grab it and pull it out. “ I’ve got it, thank you.” He moved around the seat to sit down and rested his cane beside him. “Just takes a bit sometimes. Never know if a chair is pushed in or not.”
“Perhaps.” she laughed shaking her head. “Food is always a plus.” Paine didn’t find herself laughing very often, but she did love the sounds of laughter. There were so many different types of laughs, everyone’s was different. She liked that, but there weren’t a lot of people that got past her rough exterior to make her laugh. “Doesn’t sound like a very nice city to me.” Humans could be so disgusting. “Gum stuck to your shoe? That sounds rather gross. That happened to you quite a bit I take it? Why can’t people just toss it in the trash?” Some people just made no sense to her. “I was born in a small town so I prefer ones that are smaller. Kind of remind me of home.” She didn’t mention her parents often. She almost forgot that mentioning deaths tended to bring on I’m sorry’s. “Oh..it’s alright it happened a while back. I mean I was sad about it at first, but everyone dies so it’s okay.” Well not everyone, but she felt they should. “Really? Awesome let me just get my phone out.” she fiddled with her pocket for a second before pulling out her phone, “I know a teeny tiny bit about pianos. I know what they look like.” She let out an honest to goodness laugh, “I will be sure to give you a call next time so you can rough them up for me.” She liked him. He made her laugh, which was rare for her. She believed him though. Just cause he was blind didn’t mean he didn’t know how to kick somebody’s ass. “I bring my own music…I don’t really like to listen to the radio with all the new hip music. Not really my thing.”
Paine’s lips curled into a smile as she watched his fingers lace on his cane. She could be a danger to him, if she knew what he was. She was interested in this man, but not in figuring out if he was supernatural or not. He was the first person here that she would actually call a kind of friend. “No I don’t think we have. I’m Paine…Paine Blackwall.” She definitely wanted to know more about this man.
“I think food is a big plus for me. I think taste is second to sound for me.” It was actually a little bit close to the truth for him, actually. He adored his sense of hearing, sound told you so much that his eyes failed on informing him on and it allowed him to hear music in his life. But taste --- it was wonderful to bite into chocolate and just drown everything out for a bit and think about that. Strange, yes, but he did like to indulge himself in that. He shrugs a little, pulling his thoughts away from all types of food and smiles. “Trash cans? I think some people in New York are still learning about that invention. I think the pavement is mostly gum at this point. It’s a bit hard to deal with, too, when, you know -- “ He gestured at the round glasses he wore. “You just feel something sticky and you know you’ll be puling over a stranger at one point in the day. It’s nice to not deal with that here. . . I think I would have liked growing up in a small town a lot better so you’re lucky on that one.” He meant that completely, too. Small towns and open spaces had beautiful sounds to them and smells other than car exhaust that would wrap them up so quietly. They were a blessing to live in while the big apple was somewhere hectic and obnoxious. He laughed along with her. “Well, think of it this way, you know one thing about pianos that I don’t then! I’ve no idea what a piano looks like, really.” He shrugged. “Alright --- here’s the number.” He hoped she had the contacts pulled up or something. He missed flip phones. He could never tell what people were doing on these new touch screens. “917 - 438 - 9237. You can just make the contact ‘kick ass blind pianist’ or something. I’m in someone’s phone as just a monkey covering his eyes and a piano apparently. I actually have no idea what all these emojis look like so that’s just going off what I was told.” He didn’t really know anything that went on in screens which made things worse when you realized that everything these days was touch screens. He missed the days where everything was buttons and he could memorize which buttons were which. It made everything far more easier. “You know, for music, there are some stations that aren’t this new age hip hop. The classical station here isn’t too bad. I’d imagine your music is better but, you know, if you ever forget a CD one day.”
Paine. It was aways nice to put a name to a voice and hearing her’s almost made him chuckle some. Her voice had become such a nice thing to hear. Soothing, almost, and something he could identify as friend. It was humorous to put the label of Paine on it. Then again, he knew the irony of names better than anyone. A demon named after an archangel. “Raphael. Raphael Cronan.”
Tour Time (Mel x Raphael)
mel-carnahan:
“Mel works just fine.” The other’s humor was contagious as the usually somber tone of the vampire began to lift into a more light-hearted one, the smile that had formed remaining on his face as he spoke. It was interesting, really. He had begun this conversation rather annoyed with the man (tours really just were not his thing unless they were more one-on-one) but now.. Mel had actually managed to relax a bit. A small chuckle of his own answered the other’s, grays flicking to his face and then back away as his free hand gently twirled the ring he wore as he thought.
Listening and watching as the pianist spoke, it had that curiosity growing a bit more about the man. A mother’s love extended far, he knew quite well. He remembered fondly of how his mother had defended him against his siblings and other children when it became apparent that he was not entirely ‘normal,’ that protection growing even more so once he had come into his warlock powers. Ah, how he did miss those… Regret was not the correct word but… Resentful. Yes, there was a word that fit. Melchior very much resented this ‘new’ race of his. Despite having 600 odd years to become accustomed, he would never quite be able to let go of what the change had meant for him… Alas, no use in devoting energy in something that could not be undone. All it meant was he had to pour his energy into being a beast of the night that people feared, which now that he stopped to think about it, he had been quite lacking in doing.
The vampire gave the blind man’s arm a gentle squeeze, hoping that perhaps he had had enough people do the same to mean a similar emotion to what his expression was showing, that of understanding and empathy. “You had a kind mother it appears.” Mel’s voice was not condescending, but just stating what his opinion was. He had caught on how the other had used past tense when referring to his mother, leading him to the assumption that she had passed. “I often wish my mother had done something similar… Although she did teach me the ways of her gardening abilities. Potatoes and yams were always her specialty; I never understood why.” Probably it had something to due with his birth nation and where their family originated from.
Raphael gave a nod at that, smile still painted on his face. “Mel it is then. I think I can handle that one.” He joked lightly. Raphael had it good with languages and listening so, truly, he could catch on to pronunciation just fine but, of course, he always liked to play dumb little blind fellow. It caused people to relax around him as a sense of danger faded from them. For who would be afraid of a clumsy blind guy? It was something he could do that later on, if he made enemies, he could use it to his advantage when showing that he wasn’t as pathetic as he made himself out to be. Behind a glassy gaze was wisdom and quick thinking that could take down most any challenge life gave him.
He feels a hand squeeze after he’s spoken of his mother but but he can only manage a slight smile of thanks because he doesn’t know how to say that he doesn’t deserve sympathy of his mother’s death. He tried to leave her in the dust but he did look back into what happened to her. He abandoned her because the sight of the world was too horrible for her and, for her, it was as though her small blind son simply dropped dead. Then, to her distress, so did her husband from illness. She lost everything she held dear in less than a year and changed from the bright woman she was to a secluded and heartbroken old woman. She died alone because he was too greedy to stay by her side. He did not deserve sympathy for that. And he wishes he could remove his hand from Mel’s for that moment but he knows he can’t because he needs to keep up a facade of nothing out of the ordinary.
“She was kind.” He speaks quietly. His head is tilted down and his fingers squeeze the top of his cane a little harder as he takes a breath then relax some as he exhales, letting go of emotions that have dared to bubble up in him. He won’t let himself crack. He straightens and his smile turns to more charming again. “Yours sounds like she was kind as well. Mine taught me the only thing she could. If we lived with a garden and I had a bit more sight --- I could have been a farmer right now instead of a pianist! Do you still grow anything?” He wanted the topic to drift away from him to the other. So many asked questions to him as if, because of a lack of sight, his life was far more amazing but, truly, it wasn’t. It was dark and rather bland. “And what, exactly, turned you to painting, might I wonder?”
Glancing away for a moment, Maia could actually feel herself blushing a little bit and she grinned, looking back towards her handsome friend. “Well, I would love to tell you a bit about myself just because I want to talk to you more,” she admitted chuckling. “Maybe we could meet up sometime when I’m not working and get to know more about each other.” Honestly, she would absolutely love that and she was hoping that he felt the same way. She could flirt with him more and it would be great. Or well, she thought.
He leaned back in his chair, dragging his glass with him as he went, and smiled at the idea. She was kind, not hard to get along with. Why not save time to chat with her more? “I think I’d enjoy some time to get to know more about you.” He said kindly as he brought his glass back up to take a sip from it. “When do you have free time?” He questioned as he took the glass away and lowered it until it clinked against the counter. Some uninterrupted time would be nice. He was probably pulling her away from her work, the problematic costumer he was.
The I'm blind excuse is cheating.
“No one said I played fair in life.”
"What if someone catches us?”
“ --- we’ll i can get out of a lot of things with the ‘i’m blind’ excuse. not sure what you’ll do.”
Tour Time (Mel x Raphael)
A pianist? Now there was something Melchior had not been expecting. A composer, or perhaps an editor was actually more expected than a pianist. After all, how could he read music? Despite those thoughts he offered a small smile, only to again realize that the other man could not see the gesture. He was not on top of his game tonight, and it had a hint of being flustered escaping into his expression. “Melchior Carnahan. A strange mix of names, I know.” There was a quiet joke hidden in his words. Many times he had been asked what exactly was his ethnicity, and every time he had to go through a complicated explanation of why he had an Irish last name, was born in Scotland, and his first name was just plain and simple out there for both.
Allowing an easy quiet to slip between the two for a few moments gray eyes turned back to the painting they had stopped at, examining the play of colors and shapes present. He enjoyed his job, it was definitely true. To be able to be surrounded by pieces such as this, to be surrounded by art and history.. The vampire was content. Very much so. Clearing his throat quietly, he again looked to the man beside him out of habit of wanting to read lips. Even if his change all those hundreds of years back had made his hearing slightly better, there were still plenty of times he missed enunciation or quiet words when he was not looking. “How long have you been playing?” There was a hinting of genuine curiosity as he spoke, shifting them carefully so they would not be in the way of any other patrons who may want to look at the last painting they had stopped on.
Raphael chuckled quietly at that. It’s a lucky thing he was a terrific listener because otherwise he might have needed a repeat on that name. “It’s a mouthful, I’ll give you that. I hope you have something shorter I can call you.” He smiled at his own playful humor at the other. He found it better to keep conversations with people light. It helped to drive away from any serious topics that would only lead to talking about feelings and then onto backstories and Raphael wasn’t much of a sharer when it came to his past. Which, really, was understandable. Not many took well to hearing about how he traded his soul for eyesight for a short time so usually he would make up stories of his life which he knew needed to stop. Eventually two people would meet and learn that all his stories didn’t match up. “I’m no name expert. If you didn’t say anything --- I would just think it was long.” He chuckled.
He didn’t mind the short silence. It gave him a moment to think about the painting again. While hearing about it wasn’t the same as feeling it -- feeling the groves and strokes that the brush took when creating the piece -- it did leave more to think about as you created the picture in your mind. Raphael liked art; even if he couldn’t see it. He always imagined, if not for his affliction, he would have picked up a paintbrush in his life. Maybe in another world there was Raphael the painter but, in this one, there was only Raphael the pianist. He felt them shift which pulled his mind out of the clouds and his eyebrows raised as he turned his head towards the curator. “Hm? Oh -- long time. My mother used to play and she was teaching me the keys as soon as I could reach them.” It was a process, he remembers, trying to learn as a child but he loved it. He could clearly recall sitting in his mother’s lap with her hands over his as she carefully guided his hands over the keys and helped him memorize the feeling of the piano.
"Kiss me you idiot."
“I’m --- sorry. Do I know you? Not really the type to kiss strangers.”
"Where do you even find this sort of thing?” -Paine
“Blind people can still use the internet, you know.”
the last time I saw a body like yours, I was burying it in my basement
“I’m not sure what --- is that a threat or a horribly creepy attempt at flirting? . . . either way seek help, please.”
Send me a sentence for my muse's reaction
"Are you crazy?”
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Are you even listening to yourself?"
"Are you sure they won’t find out?”
"Are you sure this is legal?”
"Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
"Are you threatening me?"
"Be mine."
"Can you be anymore obvious?"
"Do I know you?"
"Do you love me?"
"Do you remember this?"
"Do you trust me?"
"Don’t go."
"Don’t let me die"
"Don’t look at me like that."
"Don’t make me beg.”
"Don’t you dare come near me!"
"Don’t you dare."
"Explain yourself."
"For you, I would _____"
"Give it back."
"Give me another chance."
"Have you ever even done this before?"
"How drunk are you right now?"
"I already regret this."
"I am not wearing that.”
"I can’t believe you missed that."
"I can’t do this anymore."
"I can’t even look at you."
"I could kill you!"
"I dare you." or "I dare you to _____."
"I didn’t do it.""
"I didn’t know you could do that."
"I don’t want to look at you right now.”
"I guess this is goodbye.”
"I hate you."
"I have to go."
"I just want to cuddle."
"I know your secret.”
"I love you, but I really wish I didn’t.”
"I love you."
"I miss you so very much."
"I missed you."
"I need a drink."
"I need a hug."
"I never really loved you."
"I owe you."
"I think I broke it."
"I think I’m falling in love with you. "
"I think I’m forgetting something."
"I think it’s broken.”
"I trust you."
"I want to be yours."
"I want to try this thing I read in a book.”
"I want you. Naked. In my bed. Now."
"I’ll be there in five minutes.” ”This is really inappropriate.”
"I’m all for spicing thing’s up, but isn’t this a bit much?”
"I’m bad for you.”
"I’m dying."
"I’m going to be sick."
"I’m not speaking to you anymore."
"I’m pregnant and it’s yours."
"I’ve never heard that one before."
"If you stay quiet, no one will know.”
"Is that my shirt?"
"It was me"
"It’s so beautiful.”
"It’s time to choose.”
"Just five more minutes."
"Just go."
"Just leave me alone."
"Just let me die."
"Just relax."
"Just what did we do last night?"
"Kiss me you idiot."
"Kiss me."
"Like you even care."
"Little too late, don't you think?"
"Make me."
"Marry me?"
"My Parents don’t know"
"My parents know.""
"Never again."
"Nh, don’t be so rough!"
"No, that can’t be my baby."
"No! You can’t die on me now!"
"Obviously there is something between us."
"Of all the things i've heard, that hurt the most."
"Put it away.”
"Put your trousers on!"
"Put. The. Weapon. Down."
"Quiet, I am trying to think."
"Relax, I have a plan."
"Really?"
"Shut up and listen."
"Take responsibility."
"That isn’t mine."
"That looked easier on TV."
"That sounds painful."
"That was a bad plan."
"That’s mine!”
"That’s the cheesiest pickup line I’ve ever heard."
"They’re coming.”
"This seems familiar."
"This stays between us."
"Truth hurts, don’t it?"
"Unbelievable. I can't believe you right now."
"Very good, you had me fooled."
"Want to hear a secret?"
"We need to talk."
"We’re moving too fast.”
"Well that was unexpected."
"What are we doing here?"
"What are you afraid of?"
"What are you touching?"
"What are you?"
"What do you need?"
"What happened to you?"
"What have I done this time?"
"What if someone catches us?”
"What sort of noise was that?”
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"
"What were you thinking?"
"Where are my clothes?"
"Where did you find this?"
"Where do you even find this sort of thing?”
"Where were you?"
"Who’d have guessed you could pull such a face?”
"Why are you wearing that?"
"Why yes, I am as think as you drunk I am."
"You could have died!”
"You could have killed someone!"
"You coward."
"You don’t need to be so gentle.”
"You drive me crazy!"
"You have ten minutes, so make it quick.”
"You lied to me!"
"You mean everything to me."
"You owe me."
"You. Come. Snuggle. NOW!"
"You’re all out of ____."
"You’re an idiot.”
"You’re bad for me.”
"You’re dead to me."
"You’re pregnant and It’s mine"
"You’re really good at this…”
"You’re so weird.""
"You’re under arrest."
Paine was always ruthless even as a child. She didn’t feel pity for the monsters her family killed, especially since they were the ones who murdered innocent people. She didn’t even feel pity for the people she thought were normal. She just wasn’t made that way, and most people didn’t like pity anyways. However she did remember every supernatural being she ever killed. She didn’t regret any of them, but there was one that really shook her. If anyone ever came into her apartment they would instantly know she was a hunter of some sort whether it be for animals or supernatural beings. She had tons of weapons all over the place. She didn’t like using weapons though and much preferred hand to hand combat or using a small weapon. She was an excellent fighter…if she could see.
“Finger foods? That’s all it takes for you to stay?” she let out a soft laugh at his joke. She could understand the importance of food. She had a certain weakness for food as well, especially chips. Her mother swore that chips would eventually be the girl’s downfall. “New York? This town is a pretty big difference from there. Or according to the movies it is. I haven’t been to New York so I don’t know for sure.” She shrugged her shoulders out of habit even though she knew he couldn’t really see it, “I was 5 so I didn’t really understand what was happening at the time. They were pretty amazing parents..My mom still is.” A giggle slipped through her lips, “Don’t worry, I don’t mind you being hands on. I’m sure you are a great teacher even if you can’t see what I’m doing. I’m pretty hands on myself so I’ll try my best to help you with the violin. That is if you really want my help, you can say no. I promise it won’t hurt my feelings.” She sighed deeply, “Handsy people. Sometimes I run across clients who think that they can feel me up? I guess is the phrase to use. Or they try to initiate something I have no interest in. Just little perverts. Oh yeah definitely, I can kick their asses out and I have before. I always have some sort of music playing in my room that I can listen to. I couldn’t handle the sound of dead air.”
He laughed. “If you tried those finger foods you’d want to stay in the fancy life, too.” It was also a good pay but he kept the whole thing lighthearted and on food. He did love to joke when he could. Laughter, he found, was a nice sound. “Well it’s not too different from the movies, though sometimes they clean it up a lot. Pretty much just a huge . . . disgusting city. Weird smells and you get gum stuck to your shoe at least once a week. It’s nice from time to time and you learn to love it but --- yeah, it has it’s cons. I think that I’m more suited to places like this.” New York was where he was from and it did hold part of his heart but it was loud and crazy and from just his once glance at it so long ago he knew the city was dirty. Small towns were quiet and allowed you to listen and had fresh air in them. “Well that’s good I guess.” He fell a bit silent as she mentioned only her mother and slipped out an “I’m sorry” very quietly to her along with a small smile of sympathy at her. Then he chuckled softly and shook his head. “No, no I really would love to learn some and if you’re willing to be my teacher then I’m willing to take at shot at being yours at the piano. I’ll give you my phone and address and we’ll set up a time to get these lessons started. Do you know anything at all on the piano?” He’d never taught before. It’s not that he never wanted to but no one seemed to want a blind teacher and he couldn’t blame them on that. Now that the chance had arisen though he saw no point to shut it down. “At least you’re able to kick them out. I’d hope you’d get to land a punch on them too, if I’m being honest. Or at least tell them you know a very mean blind pianist and I’ll come rough them up for you because, obviously, I’m one hell of a threat.” He said it as a joke but there was truth in his words. He was absolutely a threat! She simply didn’t know that and didn’t need to know that. “Sounds like you have it pretty well in that, then. Do you use the radio or bring your own music?”
Raphael’s fingers laced over each other on top his cane as he smiled at the girl that his mind went into a trivia about. He supposed he’d find out eventually whether she was a danger to him or not but for now he’d enjoy her company because, truly, she was enjoyable. Her taste in music. Her sense of humor. The subtle hints at her background. It all drew him in just slightly closer. She might be a danger, she even might try to kill him one day, but for now he decided he would indulge himself in getting close to her. “You know, I actually don’t think we’ve exchanged names yet.”
text reads: this doesn’t compare to the feel of your skin
She knew that there were some ‘people’ out there that wouldn’t die for a very long time unless someone killed them. Someone like herself. She just had a terrible time figuring out who was who. Some hunters found that they got a tingling feeling around supernaturals, she felt absolutely nothing. Not knowing who was what made it kind of difficult for her to get close to people, but there was something about this guy that really drew her to him.
She laughed along with him, “How is that? Being in the ‘fancy’ crowd?” She loved playing, but she always got a little shy around big crowds. She could play in small crowds of a handful of people. Just the thought of playing in front of thousands of people would send her into a panic attack, which was why she didn’t pursue anything in music. “I would love that actually. I’ll just need the address and time you want to do this. You write music too? Mmm..you are really talented. I tried my hand at writing music once, but I never finished the song.” Now that she thought about it, maybe she should try to finish it. It was a sad song. One she started after the death of her father. “Where are you from? Or are you originally from here? I found my love of the violin at a funeral.” She chuckled lightly, “Someone was playing at my grandmother’s funeral and I knew right then that I wanted to play it. My parents didn’t make the best of money, but they eventually got me one.” Come to think of it her parents did everything to make sure she was a happy little girl. “Maybe I could help you with the violin one day and in return you can teach me to play piano? I enjoy being a masseuse, but I don’t enjoy the handsy clients I get sometimes. I think it’s still pretty relaxing for myself since it’s pretty quiet most of the time, but it’s nothing like playing the violin.”
Taking a breath, Raphael thought about the girl. There was a chance she could be something else. She wasn’t a demon, he knew that much, but maybe she drank blood or maybe she became a beast on the full moon. Something that wasn’t supposed to be a creature of the day. Or, worst case scenario, she was something that lived to destroy what he was. He knew there were hunters that would let you pass if you didn’t mindlessly kill but those were rare. Most of them were ruthless -- and he had had his run in with ones like those. He could handle himself against them, too. He was blind but he had his way of sight and not to mention the ability to make the playing ground fair. All it took was shadow over the eye of the other.
He shrugged with a chuckle. “It’s alright. They have nice things like small sandwiches and assorted cheeses. Really, I only stay there for the food.” He joked --- though it was part true. He did love the food that got served at venues. Wasn’t the reason he stayed but he might reconsider a lot if they removed the food. He tucked his hands away in his pockets. “No, I was originally from New York. Lived there for about -- “ really, about fifty years. “-- twenty years. Then got out . . . I only moved here about a year ago.” And it was a nice town. Quiet and small but also big enough. “A funeral? That’s --- depressing.” He smiled a huffed bit of a laugh. “But nice, I guess. Finding something beautiful in a place so dark. I can relate to that. Your parents sound nice! Which is good. I’ve heard too many tragic backstories to run into another pair of bad parents.” No parents or bad parents. It was a common story line, especially among demons. “That -- Okay. Can’t say I’m the best teacher since I can’t watch what you’re doing so you’ll be getting a real hands on approach to teaching from me. I’m also a very tactile learner as well. Handsy people? Can you kick those creeps out or is that not allowed? Do you at least have some music you can listen to in there? Some sort of --- soothing sound?”
Is there anyone right now that you would like to "see" what they look like?
“Sure, uh -- Gen, maybe. Paine. Maia. They’re the interesting ones.”
Do you want to know what any of the people look like?
“From time to time, yes. Usually I don’t care but I’ll get really curious about it if I talk to them for a while. Sometimes people let met reach out to sort of --- feel their face. Then they’ll describe themselves. From that I try to build up some sort of image. Still. . . it’s hard.”
