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— We Were One Man / Nous étions un seul homme (1979) dir. Philippe Vallois — All of Us Strangers (2023) dir. Andrew Haigh

#we were one man #vallois #all of us strangers #haigh #queer cinema #mine:caps #op #usermichi #fyeahmovies #dailyworldcinema

Armand-Albert Rateau, “Armchair,” 1920-1922,

Armand-Albert Rateau designed it as part of his influential decors for the glamorous Paris residence of French fashion designer Jeanne Lanvin and her journalist husband, Xavier Melet.

Carved oak,

68 x 59 cm (26.8 x 20.5 in.)

Courtesy: Vallois

#art #design #furniture #armchair #seat #armand-albert rateau #carved #oak #millwork #woodwork #vallois #collectors #1920 #1900s #jeanne lanvin #lanvin #xavier melet #paris #france

Entry #2: Homunculus

FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge Prompt #2: Synthetic

Unmei had awoken before her lover--that Seeker of the Sun curse again--and seized the opportunity to its full potential, blissfully studying his features as he slept soundly next to her. He was beautiful, unnaturally so. With long, soft, raven hair, and tan, strangely unblemished skin, save for that singular, jagged scar that ran diagonally across his cheek. His handsome face, peaceful as it was in his sleep, was still perpetually grumpy-looking. His eyelids hid a pair of silvery eyes, the blankets covered his perfectly sculpted body, but Mei did not need to see them to know, the image of each committed to her memory. His big, lanky form looked far too funny and pitiable crammed alongside her into her tiny bed for her to forget, after all. However, her rosy lips pursed into a frown as she remembered Melfice's words.

"Not a natural being..."

"Not a real person..."

But how was he not? Pressed up against him, she could feel the warmth of his body, the thudding of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest with each slow breath. She knew his smile, his gentle touch. He was alive. He thought, and he felt. Wasn't that all that mattered? A "homunculus," that was what Melfice had called him. But the circumstances of his birth, or rather, his creation, didn't matter, did they? He was here, he was real enough to her. The aether his body automatically leeched from around him to power itself was of little concern to her. It was a small price to pay to be near him.

And yet, some part of it did trouble her at times. He was largely a blank slate, no memories, no family, no childhood, no past to shape him. So much of his life seemed to center around her, his only friend who he tried so hard to please. She wanted him to live for himself, to find his own life and be his own person, to be happy even when she was not at his side. However, each attempt to push him in that direction made her fear she was just molding him into what she wanted him to be, doing that very thing she was trying so hard to prevent. She felt like she'd ended up with a lost puppy following at her heels... a very large puppy with an axe and a penchant for snooping into her saucy romance novels when she was away to recite corny lines from them to her to provoke some furious blushing from the Miqo'te when she returned home, but a puppy no less!

Her time to mull over the issue in her mind was cut short when his eyelids fluttered open, revealing those silver-colored irises. The troubled crease vanished from her pale brow, mouth curling into a smile instead as she leaned her face forward to gently nuzzle her nose against his.

"G'mornin', Vallois,” she sleepily cooed. ( @of-darkness-and-dreams @its-the-val-pal )