life keeps forcing cruel choices.

𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩. 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩.

[weltschmersz]

weltschmerz – a literary concept describing the feeling experienced by an individual who believes that reality can never satisfy the expectations of the mind, resulting in "a mood of weariness or sadness about life arising from the acute awareness of evil and suffering."

contains a variety of canon characters from sandfall interactive's clair obscur: expedition 33. built off of canon, with headcanons added for flavor. preference towards a life to love; this will be the "default" ending for my verso, with additional options available for a life to paint. THERE WILL BE UNTAGGED SPOILERS PAST ACT II ON THIS BLOG. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

currently featuring:

verso dessendre – complicated ; he/him ; more complicated. ( primary ) monoco – gestral searcher ; he/him ; unknown. ( secondary ) lune – citizen of lumiere ; she/her ; 33. ( primary )

– painted by mayli ; 21+ ; they/them ; cst/gmt-6. currently in ng+1. sideblog to @sxlivxgant – you don't need to follow there unless you'd like to!

blogroll:

@venatcres-mali – ocs based in the cw's supernatural. @hcpewings – canons from the cw's supernatural. ( hiatus ) @enypnicn – canons from dreamworks' rise of the guardians. ( hiatus ) @troublemqkers / @hcllowone / @overthevale – canons from critical role's campaign 4 (thjazi/halandil fang, occtis tachonis, kattigan vale).

credits.

definition from :: wikipedia. all game imagery :: taken in-engine by me, unless otherwise specified. dividers :: asmodeus-psd.

links: rules. – verses. – memes. – promo. – help wtf does any of this mean.

VERSO. real!verso. – painted!verso. – altp!verso. – pinterest. – spotify.

MONOCO. painted!monoco. – altp!monoco. – pinterest. – spotify.

LUNE. painted!lune. – altp!lune. – pinterest. – spotify.

[troublemqkers]

SEMI-HIATUS!

// in case you somehow haven't noticed by now, i've been a little absent! that's because i'm finishing up my final semester of college (woo! i cry in terror). i graduate in early/mid-may, so until then i'm going to be fairly spotty! i miss writing on tumblr so frickin' much, but as we speak i have an entire research paper due in a week that i have not started, and the rest of my work is a bit overwhelming. i'll be back soon!

if you've got my discord, you mutuals are always welcome to hit me up there – and if you'd like to have it, just shoot me a dm! i can't wait to finish up and be back here with you guys. see you soon!

additionally, my shyness has finally worn off, so – if you hadn't guessed it by now – i've been a bit more active elsewhere recently! if you're into iron lung and/or project hail mary, you can catch me @frcmblood @ircnrot and @amaz3 !

[renegon]

Esquie has touched Verso's heart with his words.

[troublemqkers]

// quick discord drop! i can be shy but feel free to message/friend me – just let me know who you are! o7

[weltschmersz]

// no because why is sciel so frickin photogenic. my god girl.

(this pic of her and gustave is quite possibly one of my all-time favorites)

[cleamaesta]

@weltschmersz : ‘ no one can conquer death. ’ from verso

frankenstein 2025 𓇢𓆸 accepting ;;

She takes a deep breath as the feeling of her own body occupying real space in the room returns again; a cold and heavy sensation, and so definitive too — to feel whole and tangible, made whole once more, finally out of that canvas. It invades all her senses. The crisp air smelling of oils, the colors of the canvas on the easel standing before her, her brother's refreshing cologne spreading in the room and commanding her attention to shift towards him. The skin around her eyes hitches and twitches, still — a clear sign of chroma still lingering on her features in a myriad of colors, about to fade in a handful of seconds' time.

His words are the first sound that welcomes her back into the atelier, on her small and uncomfortable wooden stool her body has been sitting on during her "absence". It's just a comment to her latest record, perhaps— she knows him too well to think he wouldn't let the chance to reprimand her slip past him. And for once, he's not the reckless child. For once indeed, the roles seem to have been turned. ❛ Sometimes you sound too much like Papa, you know ? ❜ Clea muses, her heart rate slowing to a calmer beat. The sense of adrenaline is washed away, completely overcome by dry sarcasm.

❛ I know my limits. There is no need to be too concerned if I decide to spend a couple of days inside one of my canvases... ❜ she admits, then, her hand smoothing the fabric of her skirt, down at the knees. Death — it does not exist inside their makeshift realities. To play with such a dangerously abstract concept, so foreign to true, real life, has allowed her limits to be tested. Her skills have been honed further than planned, or expected. For being barely shy of seventeen, Clea has already managed more than their parents did accomplish, as Painters, at her age. To be met with apprehension at her experiments humbles her, though there's some trace of happiness at the thought of her brother being that concerned about her safety.

Then, Clea turns on her seat to look at her brother, who leans by the doorframe with crossed arms and the shadow of worry in his expression shifting to one of gentle reproach. ❛ And you're wrong, Verso. You know it as well as I do, death has no true meaning inside a painting made of chroma. How many times have we slipped and fallen off cliffs, or down my Tower — inside your canvas, as children ? ❜ Clea recalls the episodes, wide-eyed and a single note of tenderness at the childhood memories woven together, painted in freedom and harmony, in their world. ❛ Or lost our footing while climbing. Touched one time too many a sakapatate. We felt nothing. Death simply meant coming back home sooner than expected, ❜ ——perhaps a bit abruptly, though.

The pause that follows is heavy, and silent. A sigh of defeat signals surrender only when her point does not appear to be shared in the slightest. ❛ I may try not to attempt any new, peculiar methods of being ejected from a canvas that violently when I'm alone, though. If it helps you being more at ease, little brother— ❜

[weltschmersz]

one shoulder braces against the hard wood of the doorframe, jutting painfully into the bone. arms crossed, lips tugging down into a frown – he seems years older than he looks. the chroma still collected around his sister's eyes shifts, and he has to fight back the shiver trailing cold fingers up his spine. something about that look painters got; the expression on their face while painting, it always spooked him. perhaps it was something to do with the way it looked as blank as an empty canvas. or perhaps it was more to do with how...easy it looked; as if they could stay there for days. scratch if – they did.

he can't help but roll his eyes at limits – "what, those of a human being?" he replies, echoing clea's bone-dry sarcasm. he's well-aware of the hypocrisy in his reprimanding; when he was younger, spending time in his canvas was a regular method of passing time. but that was then, and this is now – and verso has grown enough to worry about the people he loves losing their time to a world that exists beyond the borders of reality.

pushing up off the doorframe and stepping deeper into the room; rarely does he breach clea's atelier without permission, but...desperate measures. "death has no meaning there, perhaps – but best not to get too friendly with the concept, right?" this one is a true echo, mirroring sentiments their father has tried valiantly to impress on them before. this one, he will not budge on – death is finality, no matter the world. "besides, to us, it may simply be an ejection – but the beings inside; what would they think?" the first time he'd ever splatted on the ground in front of monoco, the gestral had cried for an entire day before verso had returned. the concept of a painter's death being different from a gestral's death was still something difficult for the being to wrap his head around – verso made an effort not to die in front of him very frequently.

he sighs in return, one hand combing through his hair. "that will work," he mumbles, shaking his head. clea will do as she wishes – there's a limit to just how far his little-brother-reprimanding powers can go. so, even if seeing that violent ejection still makes his stomach clench in fear (and a far-off worry that one day, it will not be under the brush alone), he can bear it. nodding to the canvas in front of her, "what were you up to for that long, anyhow?"

[paintedxghost]

❛  oh, look. we actually did it.  ❜

[ @weltschmersz | from monoco! ]

"We did." Verso agreed, feeling strangely empty. Maman- Aline was finally out of the Canvas. The real Renoir would be able to break free of the Monolith, and with that... Aline's creations at least would get wiped from the Canvas.

Myself included, he thought to himself, hoped even.

"It feels... almost anti-climactic after all that."

[weltschmersz]

he nods in silence – there is something...eerily quiet about the whole endeavor. lune and maelle are hugging not far off, sciel grinning widely out at the landscape. monoco moves a step closer to verso. "...so what now?" he asks, gesturing to the others. "for them? for you?"

[obscurd]

❛ i get that trust doesn't come easily up here. but you can trust me. ❜

[ @weltschmersz | from verso! ]

@weltschmersz

"Normally, trustworthy people don't have to go such lengths to prove they're trustworthy." She's messing with him, of course, despite the initial wariness his appearance sparked. It was weird how fast Maelle had come to trust him, but life-and-death situations brought people closer, didn't they? At least, she thought so... Every year in Lumiere seemed to be its own kind of life-and-death, but she hadn't found it particularly easy to get close to people there. Here, it was different. It was almost like they had room to breathe, despite the circumstances. Whether that was because of the unpredictability or the new environment, who could really tell?

Still. Bonding with their newest party member was easier than she'd realized, like they'd settled around this campfire a hundred times before. She hadn't felt this at ease with someone since... No, no. Too soon, she could almost still taste the blood on her lips.

"You're alright." Maelle winced at how fast she spoke, too anxious to get past those thoughts. Hand clutched idly at her shirt's collar, relieving a little pressure and allowing her to breathe. "But I think you'll have a harder time convincing Lune than me." A little nod in the researcher's direction, she'd spotted her taking suspicious glances their - or rather, Verso's - way. "I think she suspects you're a new breed of Nevron."

[weltschmersz]

"normally, trustworthy people don't have to get people to agree that they're trustworthy," he points out. "so, really, what's at work here – am i untrustworthy, or are you all just paranoid?" a faint grin accompanies the jab; he's joking, and easily so. it's surprising how well he's gotten along with this group so far – maelle isn't the only one shocked. of course they were wary – they had every right to be. but, all things considered, it was going alright; better than some of his...previous attempts. her words interrupt his train of thought and he glances across the campfire, chuckling. lune happens to be throwing one of her (many) suspicious looks at that very moment and they lock eyes briefly, before she looks away with a small huff – which only makes verso grin wider. "...i do believe you're right," he replies, shaking his head. "i mean; ask monoco, and i don't think he sees a difference, so...she's not wrong."

[weltschmersz]

“I can’t tell if I’m shaking from guilt or adrenaline.” lune !!

@obscurd || lune && maelle. “I can’t tell if I’m shaking from guilt or adrenaline.”

instinctively, a hand reaches out, landing feather-gentle on maelle's shoulder. "just breathe," she says softly, mind already a thousand miles away. he said it was my fault. why would any of this be maelle's fault? she was still a child; certainly not old enough to be out here, over half her life still ahead of her. yet despite that, she still chose to travel with them to the continent. responsible for what? the fracture? that makes no logical sense; surely not. their injuries? the nevrons? what? she needs more information to come to a full conclusion, and unless they meet the white-haired man again – which lune isn't very keen on – or maelle has another nightmare – which maelle isn't very keen on – she isn't going to get it. finally tuning back into her surroundings, she brushes a lock of maelle's hair back behind her ear. "you're fine. it's fine; there's no one here. just us."

[paintedxghost]

@weltschmersz (♪)

I actually failed because Maelle decided she couldn't bear to see this Canvas erased. Verso didn't say because that sounded so much worse. Maelle was still a child, after all. Blaming her wasn't fair. There was still a chance that Renoir - the real Renoir - could make her see reason.

Instead, Verso just listened without interrupting. "And would you have believed me? I have tried that in the past, you know." Unconsciously, he rubbed at his wrists. Decades had passed, and Verso had never forgotten the bite of rope bindings.

"For one thing, the full story sounds insane." Verso had tried, and failed, so many times to tell Julie the truth, and could never find the words. It turns out I'm the reason this entire world fell apart; a dead man's parents are fighting over a forgery of his ghost, was hard to introduce cold. It had been his biggest regret.

"My father tried to point the next Expedition at the bottom of the Monolith once we knew the truth, to try and force the real Renoir out. We were accused of being the Paintress's stooges. Traitors." Verso's voice cracked on that word, and a shiver ran down his spine.

[weltschmersz]

she crosses her arms as he chooses to retort, already shaking her head before words have even left his lips. mouth opening to shoot back a reply, the actual argument he provides gets her to pause, hesitating at an answer. would she have believed him? it did sound a bit...conspiracy theorist. then again, it pieced together many disjointed puzzle pieces that had never quite been explained by previous expeditions. "i would've at least made an effort," she eventually settles on, a hair less aggressive than she was previously. legs folding, she falls criss-cross, arms still crossed as she eyes him. the word hits hard, though – traitors. a long moment of silence passes, most of which involves the both of them breathing unsteadily; lune staring angrily at the ground as her ire peters out. "...which expedition was that?" she asks finally, unable to hold back the question.

[paintedxghost]

"Exactly what I said, old man. You telegraphed that in because you're losing your edge in your senility."

[weltschmersz]

"that's–" he pauses, frowning – as much as a wooden mask can frown. "well, you're older than me. so perhaps you're just getting more sensitive in your old age."

[weltschmersz]

❛ we have no scar to show for happiness. we learn so little from peace. ❜ (Ingvar, for Lune)

@giaunt || lune && ingvar. ❛ we have no scar to show for happiness. we learn so little from peace. ❜

"well, there's always more to learn from a failure." she shrugs, shoulder rising and falling as she continues to tinker with the lumina converter. "failure means something went wrong, and if you figure out how to fix it, you won't fail in that way any longer." then she blinks, as if ingvar's words have only just sank in. "scars are...physical reminders," she says slowly. "i'd think...a person that makes you happy would be physical enough, right?" perhaps she's misunderstanding this.

[weltschmersz]

new to e33? start here. [ BEWARE! spoilers abound beyond this point! ]

hiya! this is for people with ocs or fandomless characters (or even other canons) that want to interact, but don't have a ton of information about the game – first off, i'd recommend you play the game yourself!! (or watch a playthrough, i get it wholeheartedly – turn-based rpgs are rough.) this story is a JOY to experience. <3 but of course, if you don't feel like it, i'm going to sum up as much as i can here! this isn't a comprehensive mock-up, and mostly just little character summaries for those that are going 'mayli who the hell are these characters' – with a tiny glossary of 'oh god i'm drowning in dark fantasy' terms.

PLEASE NOTE: there are spoilers ahead!! i've tried to keep things as subtle as possible, but due to the nature of some of the characters i play, there will be spoilers below. you have been warned!!

gommage – (french for erase/scrub) this is an event that takes place every year, where every one of a certain age vanishes into a cloud of flower petals.

lumiere – (french for light) this is the main city of the world, where nearly every character lives!

chroma / pictos / lumina – this is basically this universe's magic system. chroma is the energy that all beings are created out of. pictos are used to harness and utilize chroma, and are generally used through drawing a symbol on the item/limb (tattoos, paint, scratches, etc.). they can be utilized on inanimate and organic objects. lumina are a slightly less powerful but more longlasting version of pictos.

gestral – littlest guys ever. created/styled after paintbrushes! they don't speak the same language as humans, but they can still be understood with a little effort.

the paintress – the being that lives at the monolith. every year, she erases a portion of the population. the expeditions travel in an effort to stop her – over the sixty-seven years they've been active, not one has ever succeeded.

VERSO. - pic currently found here! (haven't taken a good one myself yet)

how to summarize someone who evades description at every angle? immortal and over it, verso's deepest wish is to end the gommage – with perhaps something more personal underneath it – and he'll do anything it takes to get there. a chronic liar, it can take more than a few conversations (and likely a couple confrontations) to get a real truth out of him. he's excellent at shifting the subject (and the blame); somewhere between charismatic and infuriating. life hasn't quite been kind to verso, and he feels the weight of it every day. despite this, he does what he can to keep spirits up for his friends, even through his quiet detachment – sarcastic dark humor is generally his go-to. through everything, what gets him through is the knowledge of what awaits him at the end: finally, rest – (and also, hopefully, helping his family move on). and he'll do whatever he can to get there.

monoco – his (nearly) oldest and closest friend, the two feed into each other's impulsivity and recklessness – but they also watch the other's back. they're the duo of the century.

esquie – the only person he's known for even longer than monoco, esquie is a spot of light in verso's dark existence. he always seems to know the right thing to say to cheer anyone up, and his simple, blunt logic has put more than one perspective into a new light for verso.

alicia – his sister, the one person in his world that he would – and has – die(d) for time and again. his only stumbling block in his quest for rest.

RE: A LIFE TO PAINT.

he understands maelle's decision. understanding has nothing to do with it; he's angry at it. for someone so skilled with lies, you'd think he had more experience living in one – but verso's hit his limit. he still lives in lumiere as a concert pianist, composing and performing, though it lacks the joy he may have had for it previously. instead, he uses the piano to exorcise his feelings, every performance an expulsion of emotion. so why does his day-to-day life still feel so grey?

MONOCO. - pic updated eventually – i need to take a better one!

a gestral searcher; monoco is a somewhat-monkey-like creature that hides a thirst for fighting under a calm and scholarly exterior. sort of. gestrals enjoy fighting, and that never really vanishes for monoco – he's always down for a brawl or two. but he does try to be civil – for example, he can speak the human language! unlike most gestrals! part comedic relief, part dedicated friend, monoco is a simple creature at his core: he just wants the world to go back to the way it was before. before all the fighting, when he could just hang out with his friends. when sides didn't matter, and the stakes weren't quite so high.

noco – monoco's old mentor. he's been reborn a few times, and doesn't have all the same memories he used to. but monoco's memory is rock-solid, and he takes care of the newly-small gestral as if the relationship were flipped. it's only fair.

verso – monoco hasn't seen verso in over a decade, but prior to that, they were the closest of friends. full support, i have your back no matter what vibes.

esquie – old friends. monoco enjoys taking jabs – both physical and humorous – at esquie, who either brushes it off or schools monoco very quickly. neither ever take it personally.

RE: A LIFE TO PAINT.

monoco continues living out his life in lumiere with the rest of the group. he and maelle grow to be close friends, and he hangs out with the children frequently, doubling as a playground and a play-buddy. he's having the time of his life, during the days. the nights, however, are longer – he knows what his existence means for his oldest friend, and he spends a lot of time with verso; talking, listening, sitting in silence, they do it all. it's a tricky life he leads now, torn between two sides.

LUNE. - pic taken in-game by me!

a citizen of lumiere, lune is a master when it comes to the lumina converter. between her and gustave, they built practically the whole thing themselves, and she knows how to wield it – her total mastery of the concept surprising even gustave. she's an excellent wielder of chroma, and can do a lot of things the citizens of lumiere never even thought would be possible. she can be a bit single-minded, focused heavily on her end goal: defeating the paintress. anything – or anyone – that might jeopardize that doesn't deserve her time. some find her cold, others find her angry – lune just wants to finish what her parents started.

gustave – close friends. the two spent many long days and even longer nights working together on the lumina converter – they know each other extremely well, to the point where lune can finish his sentences before he can.

sciel – estranged but close. sure, they haven't hung out in years – but when you share that strong a connection, does it matter? (i am a scielune shipper in my heart of hearts and this will probably come up in my headcanons at some point. but i never want to force anyone into shipping.)

verso – suspicious but curious. he comes out of nowhere and immediately drops a load of horseshit to answer her questions – but there's something else there. what is ever going on with him? she needs to know. and she'll be as annoying as she can until she gets her answers. her true answers.

RE: A LIFE TO PAINT.

lune continues to live in lumiere with the rest of the group. she puts her full focus on learning the extended ins-and-outs of chroma; working with maelle and gustave to figure out all the intricacies, now that they have a painter with them. she spends little time with verso, not due to guilt but quiet anger. she's still angry at him for the choice he nearly made for all of them.

[weltschmersz]

// hello!! this is a MEME CALL!!! if you'd like some memes from me, drop a like! feel free to specify muses in the comments (from or to) or let the wheels of fate decide! o7

[weltschmersz]

// being able to gather photos in the outfits i prefer is an absolute GEM. thank you once again sandfall.

[weltschmersz]

// hello!! this is a MEME CALL!!! if you'd like some memes from me, drop a like! feel free to specify muses in the comments (from or to) or let the wheels of fate decide! o7

[blackcatrph]

send  “  who  did  this  to  you  ?  ”  for  the  sender  to  find  the  receiver  injured  and  demand  to  know  who  did  it.