this chaos, this calamity — this garden once was perfect. give your immortality to me; i’ll set you up against the stars!
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@strangepurity
this chaos, this calamity — this garden once was perfect. give your immortality to me; i’ll set you up against the stars!
alright well the multi is happening so let me know if there’s anyone else you can see me writing or want to see me (or anyone, but i’m here offering to) write (besides huey, monica, melvi, lucrezia, and renee, who are already being added)
sickle is being added too
alright well the multi is happening so let me know if there’s anyone else you can see me writing or want to see me (or anyone, but i’m here offering to) write (besides huey, monica, melvi, lucrezia, and renee, who are already being added)
Nikos Kazantzakis, tr. by P. A. Bien, from “Report To Greco,” publ. c. 1961
Sensitive Bunny
@sealfortyeight asked:
She affixes the clips into his hair - cat-shapes, the vibrant pink of fruit and candy, standing out starkly against the man's dark, fluffy locks (a wonder, Chiemi thinks, that she got them to stay in there, what with the texture). "There you, Mister Laforet. All done." - her drawl drags his name out a little, impeccably Southern and sounding perhaps as though she's from higher country than a river city, but ah. She tried her best.
Perhaps to anyone who knows of Huey without having met Huey, this would seem strange — someone who has orchestrated so many terrible things allowing a young, barely-teenaged girl to put such colorful clips in his hair, his expression gentle and almost slightly amused? But those who know him, those who work with him, know this is normal; maybe the specifics of the situation aren’t, but humoring those who work for him with all their little whims... that’s the norm for the immortal.
(The gentle expression on his face is also normal, and has nothing to do with any specific thoughts or feelings about this particular subordinate. He thinks of them all exactly the same — which is to say, not at all.)
“I’m not sure if colorful cat hair clips are me, but ignoring that — how do they look?” He’s never clipped his hair back, although back before he cut his hair only half a century ago he’d pull it back. Unlike the casual drawl of her accent, his own sounds slightly formal, but the tone with which he speaks to Chiemi is the opposite.
i have officially decided that huey and renee did sleep together and that chane and leeza were not artificially conceived (although they were, of course, planned) and it's based on these few lines alone, thank you for your time
my brain is a game of pong and my thoughts are the ball and one side is laughing at huey's genes being so much stronger than renee's but getting steamrolled by monica's and the other side is having feelings about elmer's parallels and contrasts between huey and fermet in 1935-d
redid my icons a smidge and gosh, huey’s so beautiful...
Albert Camus, from a notebook entry featured in Notebooks (1951-1959)
Albert Camus, from a notebook entry featured in Notebooks (1951-1959)
RAZIA’S SHADOW SENTENCE STARTERS
“ we simply planted the seed and nursed it through winter. ”
“ the rest is up to you, to do with what you’ll do. ”
“ what a splendid mess [he’s] made of this. ”
“ everything seems to fade when i see [her] face; the sky and trees all blur, every time i look at [her]. ”
“ you’re not the only one who thinks they’re falling in love. ”
“ my mind’s in knots, it’s got me lost; please help me through the maze. ”
“ i am more than some eager blood, not some average bones. ”
“ flood it through my blood; breathe it through my lungs. ”
“ i’m gonna show you this once, and then you’re gonna do it. ”
“ it must hurt so bad, with a knife in your back. ”
“ they say you’re gifted—well, i just see a scared kid. ”
“ but now that’s all gone; maybe the design’s flawed. ”
“ my words will tear through the air—pierce through the despair—to find your arrogant, throbbing ears. ”
“ if it’s too much to bear, or to hear, or take, i’ll be frank; let my inflection be crystal clear. ”
“ this mess that you’ve made—it’s a six-foot grave. ”
“ what a tragic mess you fools have made of this. ”
“ you can’t escape your own skin. ”
“ to erase the wrong we’ve done, the dark and light will become one. ”
“ so why don’t i just go? ”
“ what’s the point of dreaming if it can never materialize? ”
“ it’s not me that you see. it’s just my pedigree. ”
“ you’re a reckless and romantic rogue. ”
“ don’t you ever feel like you’ve been destined for something bigger than your skin? ”
“ you are short-sighted, naive and starry-eyed. ”
“ we curb our speech, because words are not enough. ”
“ take my hand and trust in me. ”
“ i can’t go back—i just won’t go back! ”
“ it’s a story that you may have heard before, told as mythical lore—but this translation is clear, unlike the embellishments that have reached your ears. ”
“ don’t be scared, kid. ”
“ these two have been on quite an odyssey. ”
“ and you’ve been lying through your teeth. ”
“ i mean to tell you sooner; it’s been gnawing at my brain. ”
“ i was shortsighted; i ignored your cries… ”
“ please don’t let your tired heart stop beating. you’re bleeding… just keep breathing… ”
“ place your hand on mine, one last time, and kiss me goodbye. ”
“ the unrelenting constancy of love and hope will rescue and restore you from any scope. “
verse and character tags.
chapter one / 1700s. ✕ ⌜ being thrown off rhythm isn’t the worst that could happen ⌟ first interlude. ✕ ⌜ the weight of eternity is a comfort‚ not a curse ⌟ chapter two / 1930s. ✕ ⌜ don’t sit around waiting for the darkness to appear ⌟ second interlude. ✕ ⌜ withdraw into silence and bide precious time ⌟ chapter three / 2000s. ✕ ⌜ the cards are dealt and the curtain rises ⌟
monica campanella. ✕ ⌜ i’ll make you a new mask ⌟ elmer c. albatross. ✕ ⌜ a smile junkie and a best friend ⌟ mask makers. ✕ ⌜ these kids are not alright ⌟ lebreau fermet viralesque. ✕ ⌜ but i’m not the same as you ⌟
all my fun formatting from my other blogs vanishes on this blog because huey refuses
@sealfortyeight asked:
"I had some downtime, so I baked a batch of cupcakes - I thought it'd be right of me to bring you a few, sir." The sweets in question are - perhaps not the most attractive in appearance (though, they were quite good: chocolate cake, a light scratch-made caramel icing), awkward and lopsided. Yeah, proof she's still learning things, for all her brilliance. "I'm not the best baker out there, but I'll learn."
Chiemi. A bright young girl who has been working for Rhythm for about a year now, beneath Salomé as the director but answering directly to Huey himself. (Like all the brilliant children he’s recruited over the years, he’s taken a personal interest in her development here. The adults, on the other hand, are more or less left to their own devices.) That perpetual, gentle smile is on Huey’s lips, enhanced by a soft creasing of his eyes.
He doesn’t genuinely care, of course — but most of his interactions with his subordinates is acting as though he does care, and that façade doesn’t falter here. “From a recipe, or wholly on your own?” he asks as he takes one of the cupcakes, gold eyes examining it. Gentle, and unreadable, like everything else about him. Like always.
He lowers the cupcake to look at her, giving a slight, curious tilt of his head. “Do you have an interest in baking, Chiemi? Had I known, I would’ve gotten you some proper baking supplies sooner.” He hasn’t taken a bite yet, but he will. The conversation comes first.