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Je reviens ENCORE une fois à mon projet de présenter la plupart de mes 55800 photos (environ). On est en 2017 et comme ce blog est né en 2017, j’arriverai donc au bout de cette présentation.
Avec Christine, on décide de partir de Pau vers Vichel en Auvergne par les petites routes.
Première étape : la belle ville d’Albi
master of self - care , creature of obsessive observation . the fingernail of his right index is marginally shorter than the rest . he is content in heeding the scrape of keratin against a file . were he human , he would not have heard charlie’s footfall . but he is acutely aware of every sound , the slightest of vibrations around him in any given direction . . . a mile away , even , if he were to focus . franz sees her , too , in his peripheral vision . still , he appears to pay her no mind --- consumed in repetitive abrasion .
❛ mon ciel étoilé , ❜ he drawls . his voice is honey , dripping with love so urgent to give .
time with mortals is brief , the passion he feels too great for such a short lifetime . a colossal burden upon ancient shoulders . she is worth the heartache .
❛ hypothetically , how long would it take you to pack two weeks worth of luggage ? a couple hours , maybe ? ❜
/ @souveniirs
‘ look—- ’ no knock to announce her arrival, no greeting, not even a friendly smile. well okay, the hint of it. ‘ I’ve got a problem and I know that you can help me solve it. ’ a beat, she studies the blonde gauges for her reaction before she adds a ‘ please? ’ manicured nails tap impatiently against the surface of a nearby dresser. ‘ I’ll pay you of course. ’ a promise meant to underline the urgency of her issue. ‘ one of his models fucking tripped or something ’ charlie knows who she is working for, knows with whom she attends the fashion show ‘ caught part of her dress on a loose nail or something and well—- ’ the implication is clear, still emily looks sheepish ‘ if you could fix it, you’d really do me a favour. ’ more than that actually, as the dress was supposed to close the show.
she studies her, watches her quietly for a beat, for two, before she goes in for the kill ‘ I’d owe you one. I still owe you dinner too—- I think? ’ she does, owed her breakfast too, but that could be discussed another time, perhaps over dinner.
↳ plotted ♡ starter for @souveniirs
@souveniirs / sc.
the cold air swirling around her like the thoughts in her head, theo sat alone on a street curb. the dim light of a nearby streetlamp gently glowing over her. she felt so scattered. so cold. though not entirely alone —— as the wind itself seemed to be a sentient being. whispering tales of it’s own loneliness and pain. tugging her coat tightly around her, she sighed, growing impatient and maybe even a little bit scared. she had never been afraid of things like solitude, or the rustling of dead leaves like ghosts of the summers past. but here alone on this empty street, she found herself growing scared, if not conflicted and confused. she called charlie on impulse. she wasn’t sure who else to call. everything was just up in the air and it seemed like it was just floating higher and higher but would never come back down. she needed something, someone, and charlie’s warmth kept calling her back. so she sat and she waited. for warmth.
“may i?” spoken in subtle tones , smooth as the silk sheathing her supple form, as she slides across from the other young woman. her response is not strictly necessary; rose assumes her deference until shown otherwise.
@souveniirs | nonverbal rp starters | 🤨Sit down across from my muse
@souveniirs did the heart thing !
“Oh, darling, are you alright?”
ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ @souveniirs / SC !
‘ tu es l'une des plus belles femmes que j'ai jamais vues. ‘ she starts, a twinkle in her eyes as she tries to recall the french language. ‘ i know a little french but it’s a little rusty. let me know if i’m sayin’ any of that wrong. i just - wow. you are beautiful. ‘
@souveniirs || cont.
she should have called off, should have stayed home in bed. but, it was the weekend and trying to find someone to cover her would have been impossible. makeup covers the dark circles that have formed under slate hues, dulling her appearance. stomach had been a wreck, causing charlie to become averse to any sorts of foods and liquids. everything seemed to make her sick.
it’s not long before head feels light and her eyes struggle to stay focused on a particular thing. spots litter her vision momentarily before they dissipate, returning every now and then. the bell above the door jingling draws attention from her phone to the woman walking in. throat clears and posture straightens. hands TIGHTEN around the edges of the counter, leaning frame into it as she inches to it’s edge. ❛ bonjour mademoiselle. ça va ? ❜ voice croaks out. it’s unsteady and throat feels like it’s going to close at any second. breathe. focus. breathe.
SHE’D INTENDED TO SIMPLY return the blouse and slip back out, head to an early lunch, enjoy the short time she would have in France before she had to head back to Afghanistan, but the moment she walked up to the counter, she knew it would be a bit longer than that. The clerk appeared to feel completely awful, as if she’d forced herself to come in ill...
LAYING THE BLOUSE DOWN, she leaned against the counter, scrutinizing the other woman with as much tact as she could manage. ❝ Bonjour... comme ci, comme ça mais comment allez-vous? ❞ A bit formal at the last, but she wished to make it clear she wasn’t simply asking to be polite. The American felt honestly concerned for the woman and if she could help, then she would gladly do so. ❝ Est-ce que vous allez bien? ❞
