#brent arnold

[christian-kiwi]

The way Gelsey says "oh, Rose" in Midnight. That's it that's the post.

[ninebarked]

i think long and i think hard and i think OFTEN about how pearl and every iteration of her is always portrayed as a storyteller in some way or form, something to entertain the other three presences that seem to follow her throughout every stage of the song cycle, even at her own expense as she is so often victimized by them. i think about the way that she is almost always portrayed as being in tune with her other selves and just generally kind of being "above it all" in a sense

the camera shop owner telling the photographer the story of her great grandmother, of those two sisters, and all of rose red's sins across every version of herself.

pearl white's starwatching with the astronomer, presumably feeding him stories and observations about the sky just as rose red had.

the soldier telling rose about her service and everything she has lost and so bluntly laying out her wishes after rose tries to weave this poetic net to trap her in.

lady usher and the bedtime stories she reads for roxie out of arabian nights, and the way that the tables turn after the loss of her daughter in usher iii and she can only be soothed by having those same stories read back to her by edgar.

scheherazade and her nightly tales for the shah and for her sister, her thousand and one stories, her knowledge of things that are both real to them and not, of things that have not yet happened. her knowledge of rose and pearl, of the usher family, of the death in the subway, of countless others. the fact that she KNOWS that they are all interwoven, and knows that she too is part of that web.

the tango dancer, the ancient, run dry of all her tales. she is still aware of it all, but she has nothing left to give. no stories. no stardust. not a single piece to spare for rose, not a single piece for the bastard child she takes for her own. just a haunting recounting of things before.

and then in the subway, as the victim— FINALLY, she's given one last story to tell. not an honest story, really, but a narration of her final moments. not to rose. not to the photographer, the starchild bent to do her bidding— but to the audience. rose doesn't need it anymore. she would have no use for it, so the victim shares it instead with someone who will. us.

she is such an interesting piece of the story to pick apart for me. and at the end of it all, when rose can't even get what she had wanted, when she gives up and just drowns pearl with her own hands, she's made into a fiddle.

an instrument.

a tool of entertainment, yet again.

[dance-of-moonlight]

when I kill you, I will miss you

our cello player's shadow looks a bit different sometimes

[bartandthesimpsons]

"Fathers and Sons" Ghost Quartet Acoustic Set Green-wood Cemetery June 26 2025

[snowrassa]

HAPPY TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY GHOST QUARTET!!!

[elliecjrubrick]

In honor of spooky month and my love for Ghost Quartet, I present you the Rose Red fancam.

this was made as part for LavenderWhale's Ghost Quartet YTP collab (CLOSED), you can watch my full part below:

[ofthewilderwest]

Hello Pearl. I want to play a game. I bet you’re wondering why you’re in this cave. Well, you seem to have little regard for the sentiment of “Sisters before Misters”, so you will now be offered a choice. As you can see, you are now a crow. To your left is the corpse of The Astronomer, horrifically mauled by a Bear. The rules are simple. Either you must peck out the eyes of your lover and eat them, or simply starve to death alone. Live or Die. Make your choice. I’m sure Rose will have to be satisfied either way.

[guinevere-loves-chrysanthemums]

does anyone else think about the pause when Dave sings "come look at the stars, dear............. Pearl" in Bad Men bc it's like my favorite

just me ? Ok